'^^ 
 
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A 
 
ITiglt fr0m t|e 
 
 SEEMONS 
 
 PASSION OF OUH LORD. 
 
 tettslntfii ftora tj)t (Itrrann 
 
 DS. A. THOLUCK, 
 
 UNIVERSITY-PREACHER AND PROFESSOR OF THEOLOST IN THE UNIVERSITY OF HALLE, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 WILLIAM S. & ALFRED MARTIEN, 
 
 No. 608 Chestnut Street. 
 1858. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE CROSS A REVEALER OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 
 
 Page 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 THE APPEARANCE OF JESUS CHRIST IN THE FLESH IS THE 
 TEST WHICH TRIES AND BRINGS TO LIGHT WHAT IS IN 
 EVERY HUMAN HEART. — LUKE II. 34, 35 9 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUR's PASSION MAKES MANIFEST 
 IN CAIAPHAS TO WHAT A DEGREE THE HUMAN HEART 
 
 MAY HARDEN ITSELF AGAINST THE TRUTH. MATTHEW 
 
 XIII. 14, 15 26 
 
 SERMON. III. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUr's PASSION MAKES MANIFEST 
 IN JUDAS TO WHAT A DEGREE THE HUMAN HEART MAY 
 HARDEN ITSELF AGAINST THE TRUTH, AFTER HAVING ONCE 
 KNOWN THE WAY OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. — 2 PETER II. 20, 21, 45 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 Page 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUR S PASSION REVEALS IN PILATE 
 TO WHAT A DEGREE THE HUMAN HEART IS CAPABLE OF 
 SHALLOWNESS AND VANITY. — JOHN XVIII. 38 61 
 
 SERMON V. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUR's PASSION MAKES MANIFEST 
 IN PETER TO WHAT AN EXTENT THE HUMAN HEART MAY 
 WAVER IN ITS ATTACHMENT TO HIM IN WHOM IT HAS CON- 
 FESSEDLY FOUND THE WORDS OF ETERNAL LIFE. JOHN 
 
 VI. 67-69 ; and luke xxii. 60-62 77 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUR's DEATH AND RESURRECTION 
 REVEALS IN MARY, THE MOTHER OF OUR LORD, WHAT A 
 HUMAN HEART MAY BECOME UNDER THE TRAINING AND 
 DISCIPLINE OF GOD. — LUKE II. 34, 35 93 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUR's DEATH AND RESURRECTION 
 REVEALS IN THOMAS WHAT A HUMAN HEART MAY BE- 
 COME UNDER THE TRAINING AND DISCIPLINE OF GOD. 
 
 JOHN XX. 29 109 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 THE SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 Page 
 JESUS IN GETHSEMANE. — MATTHEW XXVI. 36-40 125 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 JESUS AND HIS BETRAYER. — LUKE XXII. 47, 48 141 
 
 SERMON III. 
 
 THE SILENCE OF JESUS. MATTHEW XXYI. 62 155 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 THE OATH or JESUS. — MATTHEW XXVI. 63, 64. . , 109 
 
 SERMON V. 
 
 THE TESTIMONY OF JESUS: MY KINGDOM IS NOT OF THIS 
 
 WORLD. — JOHN XVIII. 33-36 185 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 THE CONFESSION OF JESUS*. I AM A KING. — JOHN XVIII. 37. 200 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 THE COMMAND OF JESUS'. WEEP NOT FOR ME, BUT WEEP 
 
 FOR YOURSELVES. — LUKE XXIII. 26-31 216 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 
 Page 
 
 THE PRAYER OF JESUS: FATHER, FORGIVE THEM, FOR THEY 
 
 KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO. LUKE XXIII. 33-35 231 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 JESUS AND THE PENITENT THIEF. LUKE XXIII. 39-43.. . . 246 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 THE FILIAL LOVE OF JESUS. — JOHN XIX. 25-27 262 
 
 SERMON XI. 
 
 ELI, ELI, LAMA SABACHTHANI? MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY 
 
 HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? MATTHEW XXVII. 45, 46., 278 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 ELI, ELI, LAMA SABACHTHANI? MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY 
 
 HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? MATTHEW XXVII. 45, 46 292 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 
 JESUS SAITH, I THIRST.— JOHN XIX. 28 307 
 
 SERMON XIV. 
 
 THE DEATH OF JESUS.— JOHN XIX. 30 320 
 
 SERMON XV.* 
 
 THE DEATH OF JESUS. EFFECTS OF THE DEATH OF JESUS. 
 
 LUKE XXIII. 46-48 332 
 
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE, 
 
 The Discourses contained in this volume are selected 
 from the fourth and fifth volumes of Dr. Tholuck's 
 Sermons. They were originally delivered in the 
 University service at Halle, where Dr. Tholuck is 
 preacher to the University. From the character of 
 the congregation on such occasions — which is, of 
 course, composed to a large extent of students — the 
 Sermons will be found to have often a special refer- 
 ence to the case of young men. It is hoped that they 
 will also in this form be found useful to students, and 
 to thoughtful, inquiring young men generally; and 
 that they will thus help to supply a want in our exist- 
 ing Christian literature. May the picture which they 
 present of the suffering Saviour be blessed to draw 
 many such to him ''who bore our sins in his own body 
 on the tree!" 
 
 The Sermons were not, however, addressed exclu- 
 sively to the students. A large, promiscuous congre- 
 gation is always present at those services, to enjoy 
 the privilege of hearing one of the greatest preachers 
 
8 translator's preface. 
 
 of the age. Consequently all classes and all ages 
 may expect to find in these discourses something to 
 quicken and to bless ; — rich thoughts drawn from the 
 mine of Truth — deep, far-reaching glances into the 
 heart of man — and such an insight into the heart of 
 Jesus in the hours of his sufferings, as is vouchsafed 
 not to learning or philosophy, but to humble faith 
 alone. Dr. Tholuck is well known in our country as 
 an erudite theologian and an able expositor of sacred 
 truth. But commentaries do not teach us much of a 
 man's true nature, or open up his hidden life. These 
 Sermons will convey some idea of those pulpit min- 
 istrations of Dr. Tholuck, by which he exercises so 
 mighty and hallowed an influence. We trust that in 
 them, even though it be through the medium of a 
 translation, he may still speak with power to many a 
 heart, R. L. B. 
 
 Halle, Januari/, 1857. 
 
PAET I. 
 
 THE CKOSS A REVEALER OF THE 
 HEARTS OF MEN, 
 
 SERMON I; 
 
 THE APPEARANCE OF JESUS CHRIST IN THE FLESH IS THE TEST 
 WHICH TRIES AND BRINGS TO LIGHT WHAT IS IN EVERY HUMAN 
 HEART. 
 
 Luke ii. 34, 35. — And Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary 
 his mother, Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of 
 many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against; 
 (yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also,) that the 
 thoughts of many hearts may he revealed. 
 
 Those of you, my brethren, who have had opportuni- 
 ties of associating much with true believers, must have 
 observed that it had become a kind of habit with them 
 to say, in reference to any remarkable event in the 
 Christian life, " Thus has this or that saying of Scrip- 
 ture again proved true." This was a common prac- 
 tice with the Apostles, who often refer to sayings of 
 the Old Testament in this way. Now, the truth which 
 this circumstance brings very strongly before one's 
 mind is, that the word of God holds good in every age 
 of the world's history. And, particularly, what we 
 read in the Bible, of the way God deals with men, 
 and men with God — and in a very special way, at the 
 2 
 
10 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 time of the appearance of our Lord — is of such a char- 
 acter as we often see recurring in history. As we 
 contemplate the course of events, and, 
 
 **By the light His words disclose, 
 Watch Time's full river as it flows," 
 
 we often have occasion to exclaim, " Thus has this or 
 that New Testament Scripture again proved true.'* 
 In our service of to-daj, an expression of this nature 
 shall engage our attention. It is a Scripture-saying, 
 whose truth was first estahlished in the history of 
 Christ, and which the experience of every subsequent 
 age has confirmed. I purpose to make our present 
 meditation the introduction to a series of connected 
 discourses, such as I have long entertained the wish 
 to hold. 
 
 You will find our text in the prophetic words of the 
 aged Simeon, spoken when the child Jesus was for the 
 first time brought into the temple by his parents, in 
 the days of the legal purification. We read in Luke 
 ii. 34, 35, ''And Simeon blessed them, and said unto 
 Mary his mother, Behold, this child is set for the fall 
 and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign 
 which shall he spoken against; {yea, a stvord shall 
 fierce through thy own soul also,) that the thoughts 
 of many hearts may he revealed," I scarcely think 
 a more solemn scene, or one bearing more clearly on 
 the face of it a character of perfect truthfulness, can 
 be conceived, than the one into which these words of 
 the Evangelist transport us. The very thought of 
 the little circle gathered round the holy child Jesus, 
 is itself deeply affecting. Those were assembled there 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 11 
 
 -who, as we read, at that time "waited for the conso- 
 lation of Israel." And so it was a little company, 
 gathered together from among the multitudes in Jeru- 
 salem, composed of men whose lives were one ardent 
 longing, one strong never-fading hope, and the object 
 of whose longing and hope was, that "the salvation of 
 Israel would come out of Zion, and that the Lord 
 would bring back the captivity of his people." Their 
 number was, to all appearance, small, and they were 
 all, probably, pretty old and well-stricken in years — 
 at least Simeon and Anna were. Touching is it also 
 to think that they had been wont often to meet 
 together in that very Temple for the purpose of unit- 
 ing in prayer. The knowledge that one of their 
 number had received the promise that he should 
 not die until he had seen the. Lord's Christ, would, 
 moreover, strengthen the faith and nourish the hope 
 of all that little company. And now as they were 
 together in the Temple, behold, the child of God, 
 the object of their longing and prayers, draws near, 
 borne in the arms of his mother. But how are they 
 to recognize the promised child? A Holy One is 
 there, but no nimbus surrounds his brow; a king, but 
 no diadem wreathes his head. The grace of God dis- 
 closed him, and to Simeon's heart he was revealed. 
 Then it was that Simeon, under the power of the Holy 
 Ghost, advanced, and took up the word of prophecy. 
 He significantly addressed his words, not to the father 
 of the child, but to his mother. It was no pleasant 
 flattering speech he made ; it was no light laughing 
 dream of victory he foretold. no! He calls the 
 
12 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 child a rock — a rock on which a part of Israel shall be 
 broken. There was further unveiled before his pro- 
 phetic eye a sword which should pierce the sorrow- 
 laden heart of the mother — 'Hhat the thoughts of 
 many hearts might he revealed!''' These words, 
 which form the conclusion of his prophecy, were thus 
 to have special reference to the time when the mother's 
 heart was to be pierced by a sword; or, in other 
 words, the thoughts of many hearts are revealed in a 
 preeminent degree beneath the cross of Christ. But 
 they were also true of the whole period of the mani- 
 festation of God in the flesh. The thought, which 
 shall form the basis of this and the following discourses, 
 then is : 
 
 The appearance of Jesus Christ is the test which 
 first truly tries and brings to light what is in every 
 human heart. 
 
 Let us consider how this truth is established, first 
 generally^ and then especially in the history of our 
 Saviour's Passion, 
 
 First then, in general, the appearance of Jesus Christ 
 in the flesh is the test of the human heart which alone 
 truly tries and brings to light what is in every man. 
 There are some men who possess the gift of being able 
 to discover at the first glance the character of any man 
 they may happen to meet — of course the art of know- 
 ing one's-self is always much harder to learn. What 
 do we mean by the phrase when we say that " a man 
 has something in him"? By this, we do not mean 
 merely to say that a man has talent and abilities, but 
 we refer rather to the use he makes of those abilities : 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 13 
 
 we do not think so mucli of what a man has, but 
 rather of what he is. It is the disposition, the will of 
 which we speak. And this is what the Scriptures 
 speak of, when we read "that what is in men is 
 revealed" through Christ; for, according to the words 
 of our Lord, it is out of the heart that bad thoughts 
 proceed, and it is of the thoughts and imaginations of 
 the heart that it is said, " they are evil from his youth." 
 Now, what is "in a man," that is, what his heart is, 
 is determined by what he loves. The worth of a man 
 is determined by the nature of the objects which he 
 loves. For people love only that which has some 
 affinity to themselves, that in which they find them- 
 selves as it were reproduced. What you are worth is 
 determined by what you love. Now, the great object 
 of human love is God. He is the ineffable portion of 
 the soul, the blessing above all blessings, the cenfere 
 and source of every good thing, and He, above all 
 and before all, deserves our love. This we all acknow- 
 ledge, and who does not? But is there any one that 
 says. Thou lovest him, and yet thou lovest him not ? 
 Is not the love we feel to Him hidden and invisible 
 like himself? Is it not that sacred thing which the 
 soul cherishes in silence and in solitude, within the 
 secret recesses of her being ? Now, in answer to this, 
 I might say, that although it be true that the flame of 
 love to God burns in secret upon the altar of the soul, 
 still its brightness and its heat must be seen and felt; 
 for love must manifest itself in outward actions. But 
 I will content myself with asking, how can God be 
 the subject of merely a secret, hidden love any more, 
 2* 
 
14 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 now that Christ has come into the world? "Whoso- 
 ever loveth him that begat, loveth him also that is 
 begotten of him," says the Apostle. "No man hath 
 seen God at any time. If we love one another, God 
 dwelleth in us." We may make a thousand profes- 
 sions of our love to the unseen God, and yet so long 
 as we have no fellow-feeling for those whom he has 
 renewed and made reflections of his grace and truth, 
 our speeches are but as the sounding brass and the 
 tinkling cymbal. Brethren, you denounce the con- 
 duct of the man who steels his heart against his 
 brother, against him in whose veins the same blood 
 flows. You call him inhuman, because he dishonours 
 the name and the memory of their common father ; 
 you say that name, that memory, cannot truly be the 
 object of his love. And I ask, can we truly love our 
 Heavenly Father, and at the same time close our 
 heart against that brother in whom the very Spirit of 
 grace and truth by whom we are renewed dwells and 
 rules. Farther, I say, our love, not only to the 
 brethren, but also towards every one in whom we can 
 trace, it may be, nothing more than an earnest religi- 
 ous striving towards God, a moving of the heart towards 
 God, is also a test by which is brought to light what 
 is really in us. It is surely indisputably certain that 
 all the longing of man towards God is fulfilled and 
 satisfied in Christ alone. If this then be true, can we 
 regard any human heart that is thirsting for light and 
 life from God, otherwise than as a heart already stand- 
 ing in a certain relation to Christ? "He that is of 
 God, heareth the voice of God," says Jesus, and in 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 15 
 
 these words lie teaches that no man can find God in 
 whose heart the Spirit of God is not already at work, 
 and that no man can come to the Son but he whom 
 the Father hath drawn. For Christ is the image of 
 the invisible God — God manifest in the flesh; and 
 John, at the age of eighty, can still with the fire of 
 youthful enthusiasm exclaim: "We beheld His glory, 
 the glory of the Only-begotten of the Father, full of 
 grace and truth." And again, in his Epistle : "The 
 Life was manifested, and we have seen it, and bear 
 witness, and show unto you that eternal Life, which 
 was with the Father, and was manifested unto us." 
 Now, if this is the truth with regard to Christ, if Christ 
 is indeed the Life of God made manifest, the visible 
 Son of the unseen Father, then it is unquestionably 
 certain that, according to the love we have towards 
 the Son, is the degree and the sincerity of our love 
 towards the Father. For now that He is come into 
 the world, who could say: "Learn of Me, for I am 
 meek and lowly in heart;" now that He hath appeared 
 in the flesh, who could say what no other human lips 
 had dared to say before : " He that hath seen me, hath 
 seen the Father;" — we must testify to the fact that 
 the Only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and 
 truth, is set up as a criterion whereby is tried and 
 tested what our love to God is worth, what we ourselves 
 are worth. We have heard prophetic words from the 
 mouth of Simeon, which express this thought. Let 
 us now listen to the same thought spoken by the 
 Redeemer himself, by Him who was the humblest and 
 the lowliest among the sons of men. The words to 
 
16 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 ■which I am about to direct your attention are very 
 remarkable words. When for the first time the thought 
 they contain was unfolded before my mental eye, with 
 what a marvellous power did it seize me ! How appalled 
 was I, when I thus learned to understand aright the 
 real cause of all love to Christ, and of all turning from 
 him ! And in saying this, do I not express your own 
 experience? We read in John: "And the Father 
 himself which hath sent me, hath borne witness of me. 
 Ye have neither heard his voice at any time, nor seen 
 his shape. And ye "have not his word abiding in 
 you; for whom he hath sent, him ye believe not. I 
 receive not honour from men, but I know you, that 
 ye have not the love of God in you,'' It may have 
 escaped many of you what the real point of these 
 words is, for the thoughts hang somewhat loosely 
 together; but their meaning is plain. There can be 
 no doubt that what the Lord here reproaches the Jews 
 with is, that they do not love him, because they have 
 not the word of Grod abiding in them, because they 
 have not the love of God in them. And so he whom 
 we reverence as the perfect pattern of humility, gives 
 us here to know that to have the word of God in our 
 heart, and truly to love God, and yet not feel ourselves 
 drawn to him, experience no love to him, is a thing 
 quite impossible. Nor is this the only passage where 
 he announces this. We find other sayings of his 
 expressive of the same truth. "Jesus said unto them, 
 if God were your Father, ye would love me, for I pro- 
 ceeded forth and came from God." And again: 
 "Ye neither know me nor my Father: if ye had 
 
OF THE HEARTS OP MEN. 17 
 
 known me, ye should have known my Father also.'* 
 Then, were it not that in Christ, in this thorough 
 union of the divine with the human, we see the manifes- 
 tation of God himself, how, I ask, were it not for this, 
 could we reconcile with his humility the high degree 
 of love which he demands? "He that loveth father 
 or mother more than me," he says, "is not worthy of 
 me." What mere mortal has ever laid claim to such 
 a love as this ? I may thus rest upon the words of 
 Christ himself, and not merely upon the words of 
 Simeon, this statement, which I utter with the firmest 
 conviction of its truth, that the degree in which a 
 man is attracted, ravished, overpowered, hy the 
 appearance of Christ in the flesh, is the measure of 
 his love to Crod, 
 
 You do not think that it makes any difference that 
 He is no longer visible to our bodily sight ? For is 
 not the word "we have seen His glory" ever fresh, 
 ever new upon the earth? Or did that glory die 
 away, when the last eye-witness of his majesty was 
 laid in the tomb ? This might have been possible had 
 his glory been a thing which the eyes of the body 
 alone ever could have seen; but such it was not. 
 Caiaphas saw with bodily eyes, and yet did he really 
 see? They have eyes, but see not, Jesus himself 
 said. Only with spiritual eyes could men see his 
 glory in those days ; and with spiritual eyes alone can 
 we see his glory now. And that even now we can thus 
 behold it is surely a proof of the inspiration of the 
 sacred Evangelists. If it be true that these things 
 which they tell us of Christ, come home to the 
 
18 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 believers of every century with all their original 
 power ; if men living nineteen centuries after Christ 
 are as deeply impressed by them as they who were 
 eye-witnesses of them were ; if, at this day, any one 
 who reads the words of Christ is forced to exclaim, 
 like those who heard them : " Never man spake like 
 this man;" — can, I ask, any other proof than this be 
 required of the truth that the hand of God guided the 
 pens of those men who wrote of Christ? Thus the 
 sublime form of the Son of Man is still present upon 
 the earth ; there it stands, drawn in living lines upon 
 the page of revelation ! There it stands, as a test by 
 which, to the end of time, the human heart shall be 
 brought to light. But He is also present with us in 
 another way. Did he not say that he would come 
 again and take up his abode with us ? Are not believers 
 his temple, his body his members ? Is he not ever- 
 more present in every one who is born of the Holy 
 Ghost? We are doubtless but weak members of his 
 body, as with humility, we confess ; but certain it is, 
 if we are Christ's at all, then the Spirit of Christ must 
 be our guide, and something of Christ must be mani- 
 fest in us. Hence, I say further, as regards believers 
 also, Christ is a test of the human heart. He who 
 truly loves Christ cannot hate any man who believes 
 on him ; he who has no love towards those who believe 
 on Christ, can have no love for Christ. " If they 
 have persecuted me, they will also persecute you ; if 
 they have kept my word, they will keep yours also." 
 By these words, Jesus bound indissolubly together his 
 own destiny in the world and that of his people. 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 19 
 
 Weaknesses, infirmities, faults and failings, ought not 
 to separate us from one another, for we all have to 
 acknowledge them in ourselves. Should any man 
 hate his own flesh and blood ? and every Christian is 
 my own flesh and blood) nay, he is more, for he is 
 one spirit with me. But v^ go further. All the reli- 
 gious life and religious stri^ng that we see in humanity 
 finds its consummation and perfection only in Christ. 
 Christ is the end of all religion ; Christ is the goal 
 whither the religious spirit tends and strives ; Christ 
 is the home where alone the human soul finds the end 
 of all its longings after God. He has himself pointed 
 out that the heart that would find and appropriate 
 him, must have some affinity with himself. '''He that 
 is of G-od^'' he says, "heareth my voice." And, 
 therefore the man, whoever he may be, who followeth 
 hard after God, though in his search for him it be by 
 circuitous and doubtful ways he journeys, shall be the 
 object of my love. And the measure of my love for a 
 man shall be the degree of sincerity with which he 
 seeketh unto God, or the degree of self-surrender with 
 which he has found him in Christ. To this consider- 
 ation shall every other be subordinate. 
 
 And how do matters stand with us in this respect? 
 How is it with our love to Christ, and to all those who 
 are the members of his body? How is it with our 
 love to those who make only religion the central point 
 of all their labours, and even that in a most imperfect 
 way ? Can it be said of each one of us, that we have 
 been brought into so living and personal a relation 
 with the glorified Son of God, that we can truly say, 
 
20 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 " Christ is the supreme object of my love ; I love him 
 as he demands to be loved; I love him more than 
 father and mother?" Are those who are most closely 
 united to him, even when they are deficient in human 
 gifts and acquirements, are they nevertheless the 
 dearest objects of your love — those with whom you 
 can in all things feel most closely united? We ask 
 nothing about your confession of faith; — as a confes- 
 sion of your faith we are content to take your love. 
 For whoever can give an affirmative answer to the 
 question, Lovest thou Christ more than father and 
 mother, wife or child ? — ! I scarce require to hear 
 such an one lay down a confession of his faith, for 
 sure I am he is a Christian, seeing he holds Christ 
 more dear than any human being. But what a reve- 
 lation of the hearts of the children of God in these 
 days is given by the fact, that there are those among 
 us who value more highly the assent to some little 
 article of their peculiar confession, than the indubita- 
 ble manifestations of a loving heart towards the Lord 
 Jesus ! There are thousands ready to cry out when 
 one goes too far^ as they call it ; who yet have not a 
 word of lamentation for those who do not go far 
 enough! What a test of the human heart is Christ 
 here also ! Yet the present is a time which, above all 
 others, requires that those that love Christ should 
 unite more closely together. If the words, " He that 
 is not for you is against you," have ever been appli- 
 cable to the people of God, surely they are applicable 
 now — now, when the Protestant army is beginning to 
 break up into two hostile camps — when the question 
 
OP THE HEARTS OF MEN. 21 
 
 is no longer one concerning the truth of certain arti- 
 cles of faith — but where the matter at issue is, whether 
 the State is to retain a church at all, Christendom a 
 Redeemer, and mankind a God. Now is Christ the 
 banner around which believers must rally and unite ; 
 and all those who can kneel in faith before his cross 
 must stretch out to each other the hand of love; for 
 now is Christ once more that sign which shall he 
 spoken against, that the thoughts of many hearts may 
 he revealed. 
 
 When Simeon spoke these words he had, however, 
 more especially before his eye the closing period of 
 the conflict of the Redeemer with the world; he 
 thought of the period of his sufferings ; and now we 
 would show that it is true with more special reference 
 to the time of our Saviour's sufferings that He was a 
 test of the human heart, which tried and hrought to 
 light what is in man. Never have the deeds of men 
 disclosed what is in the human heart in such a way as 
 was done by their dealings towards him who could 
 say, that in him men could see what God is — towards 
 the incarnate Son of the Father. The human heart 
 was then revealed by the conduct both of his enemies 
 and of his friends. It was revealed by the conduct 
 of his enemies. And surely the very fact that the 
 Lord could have enemies is itself a striking apocalypse 
 of the heart of man. And then, what enemies were 
 his ! Let us look at them for a moment. Brethren, 
 this world has witnessed many a scene well fitted, one 
 would imagine, to undeceive any believer in the radi- 
 cal goodness and excellence of the human race. Let 
 3 
 
22 THE CKOSS A REVEALER 
 
 me recall to you one of those scenes. Scarcely fifty 
 years are gone since in Europe, amid a cultivated, a 
 Christian people, there was heard a cry, the very 
 recollection of which makes the blood even now run 
 cold in our veins. The cry was this : " Things will 
 never go well with humanity, until the last king is 
 hung with the intestines of the last priest!" Whose 
 blood is not chilled by such a devilish cry ? And yet 
 even their guilt was not so terrible as was that of the 
 murderers of Christ. When men suffer undeservedly, 
 even though they may be the best of men, we cannot 
 altogether forget that they are sinners ; the measure 
 of their own guilt may be very small — it may be 
 nothing greater than a want of wisdom — still there is 
 always some amount of guilt attaching even to those 
 who fall as innocent victims. Add to this the retribu- 
 tive justice which is so often seen in their death : how 
 often does the weight of that curse which had gathered 
 over the heads of the guilty ancestors fall upon the 
 comparatively innocent descendant, and crush him to 
 the dust. Thus, however we may shudder at the 
 atrocities of revolutionized France, still we cannot 
 forget that it is the heavy sins of whole generations 
 of kings and of priests that are there expiated in a sea 
 of blood. And then, were the descendants really, 
 entirely free from those sins of their ancestors for 
 which they suffered ? Now, it is this which constitutes 
 the grand distinction between the place of torture 
 where Jesus died, and all the scaffolds upon which 
 innocent men have shed their blood. He it is, and he 
 alone, of whom it can without falsehood be affirmed, 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 23 
 
 " He had no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth ; 
 he it is, and he alone, who could say that whoever 
 saw him, saw the invisible Father. And it is he 
 whom men have taken, and with wicked hands have 
 crucified and slain ! Here indeed is the human heart 
 first truly revealed — revealed even in the deepest 
 depths of its depravity. If humanity could commit 
 such a crime, what is there it could not do ? And it 
 is the very same human nature that was disclosed in 
 Caiaphas, in Judas, in Pilate, that dwells in my 
 breast ! 
 
 But further. The human heart is revealed also in 
 the circle of the friends of Jesus. What a picture 
 of weakness and infirmity, after the purest and most 
 zealous resolutions, is presented to us in Peter? The 
 man who had borne this testimony of Jesus, " Thou 
 art the Son of the living God; thou hast the words 
 of eternal life; to whom can we go but unto Thee;" 
 can in the hour of danger say of him, "I know him 
 not!" And the nature which this test reveals in 
 Peter, is not the nature of Peter only. No; that 
 human nature which dwelt in the breast of the fallen 
 disciple dwells in my breast too ! Nor is Peter the 
 only type of human weakness that we find beneath 
 the cross. See you not yonder, at some distance, the 
 other disciples crouching timidly together ? Not one 
 among them all has a brave word to speak for the 
 man of their heart who hangs upon the cross. Peter 
 in the decisive and testing hour denied him — the 
 others forsook him and fled. But I am not confined 
 to such melancholy and disheartening examples, in 
 
24 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 speaking of the disclosures of human nature which the 
 sufferings of Christ called forth. The suffering Christ 
 was indeed the test which brought to light how far 
 the human heart is capable of obduracy, shallowness, 
 and fickleness ; but there was also manifested by the 
 sufferings and death of Christ to what an extent the. 
 human heart is susceptible of the influences of the 
 grace of God. There it was seen that, in spite of all 
 the weakness of the disciples, faith had still a firm 
 foundation in their soul. What might follow the 
 tragic close of their Master's life they had no idea; 
 when they bore him to the tomb they carried their 
 hope to the grave along with him ; but not — blessed 
 be God — not their faith ! See how wonderfully this 
 is exemplified in the case of Nicodemus. This man, 
 who only by night had ventured to come to the living 
 Christ, buries the dead Christ by day ! He confesses 
 him before the whole world, at the very time when all 
 his hope in him appeared to be crushed! But the 
 hope which they buried with Jesus revived again 
 when the grave opened its mouth and their Lord 
 came forth victorious; when the cross, like a star 
 shorn of its beams, streamed upon by the bright 
 eastern sun, again shed forth its rays afar, to comfort 
 and restore the nations! The spark of faith in the 
 breasts of those disciples, which the load of the cross 
 had well nigh suppressed, broke out towards heaven 
 as a flame of joy, which nothing could extinguish any 
 more. May we not say that, if it is true that a great 
 revelation of humanity is opened up before us upon 
 the cross, another scarcely less great is unfolded 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 25 
 
 beneath it? Here, side by side, with the greatest 
 human phenomenon, there is made in it and by it a 
 marvellous revelation of the nature of man. 
 
 We have at present been able to point out this 
 truth only in some of its most general features. We 
 propose to place ourselves beneath the cross, and the 
 Revelations of the human heart which we shall wit- 
 ness there, will form the subject of our next medita- 
 tions. 
 
 If, however, we have already said enough to show 
 that the appearance of Christ is a test of the heart of 
 man, ! then, let a new spirit of love to him, and at 
 the same time to those who believe on him, awake 
 within us ; for according to the measure of our love 
 to him shall we be judged ! 
 
 Saviour ! Thou requirest to be loved more than 
 father and mother, and thou hadst not required this 
 if it were not that thy glory, thy grace and truth 
 are really worthy of such a love ! Reveal then thy- 
 self to us, adorable Saviour! — reveal thyself in 
 thy matchless glory and beauty, in order that we 
 may become strong to love thee with that exalted 
 devotedness which thou requirest. With love to thy 
 members also do thou fill us anew. Yea, whoever 
 in these times confesses thy name — whoever in love 
 and in sincere self-surrender submits himself to thee 
 — shall be holy in our eyes because thou art the 
 Only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth. 
 Amen. 
 
 3* 
 
26 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 CAIAPHAS TO WHAT A DEGREE THE HUMAN HEART MAY HARDEN 
 ITSELF AGAINST THE TRUTH. 
 
 Matthew xiii. 14, 15. — In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Esaias, 
 which saith, By hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand; 
 and seeing ye shall see, and shall notperceiye: for this people's 
 heart is waxed gross. 
 
 The appearance of Christ is the test which tries and 
 brings to light what is in the human heart. This is 
 a truth, as we saw in our last service, which holds 
 good of the present, as well as of every time. We 
 have seen, moreover, that this truth is illustrated in a 
 very special way in that portion of our Saviour's life, 
 with especial reference to which it was spoken by 
 Simeon — I mean in the history of his passion. *^ The 
 thoughts of many hearts shall be revealed;" such were 
 the words of Simeon. And truly beneath the cross 
 the thoughts of many hearts were revealed then ; and 
 even there are they now revealed ; for from the way 
 in which a man acts at the cross of Jesus, is best 
 known what manner of man he is. If, generally, 
 Christ is the test by which men are proved, his cross 
 is so in a very special sense, and it is so in more than 
 one respect. Let us therefore take our stand this day 
 by the cross of our Lord. True it is the Advent 
 which we celebrate to-day ; but one Christian festival 
 does not shut out the rest. When those sad thoughts 
 were suggested to Simeon's mind, it was the Child 
 
OF THE HEAKTS OP MEN. 27 
 
 Jesus that lay before him, and to the Child Jesus it 
 was that he addressed the words, "Thou shalt be a 
 sign that shall be spoken against, that the thoughts 
 of many hearts may be revealed." And we may fitly 
 prepare ourselves to keep the day of the birth of this 
 noble Guest of our earth, by meditating upon the way 
 in which "his own" received him, when he came 
 among them. We shall stand by and witness how 
 the human heart unveils and reveals itself beneath the 
 cross of Jesus. ! it is a scene without a parallel 
 that is here presented to us ! As often as we contem- 
 plate anew those events, we are compelled to acknow- 
 ledge that it really is a scene without any parallel in 
 the history of the world! Look here, and behold 
 him — him who said: He that has seen me has seen 
 the invisible God — as he hangs between two malefac- 
 tors ! Behold him wearing the civic crown, with which 
 men requite his services ! And this the reward of all 
 his pains ! Beneath the cross the multitude rage like 
 the surging of an angry sea, cries of passionate fury 
 mingle with hellish laughter. And what men are 
 those gliding to and fro among the crowd, so anxious 
 and busy about something, and talking to the people 
 so earnestly ? Those are his high priests ! — yes, His 
 JiigJi priests, thirsting for blood; and they are per- 
 suading the people to cry — Crucify him ! crucify him ! 
 They are Caiaphas and Annas. We are going to con- 
 sider, in the first instance, how the heart of the ene- 
 mies of Jesus is revealed beneath the cross. Let 
 Caiaphas then come before us, and in him let us see 
 an exemplification of the truth that, beneath the cross 
 
28 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 of Jesus is revealed to what an extent the human 
 heart may harden itself against the truth. If any of 
 you have never seen a hardened human heart, behold 
 one here. Let us choose for our text the words of 
 Christ in which he characterizes this hardness. These 
 were spoken, indeed, with reference to the whole of the 
 people, but we know that all the accusations which could 
 be raised against the people were ten times more de- 
 served by its leaders. The hardness of the heart of 
 man was, alas, no new thing in the time of Jesus : it 
 need not, then, surprise us, if the Lord should make use 
 of an ancient prophetic word, applying it to the people 
 of his time. We read in Matthew xiii. 14, 15: ^' In 
 them is fulfilled the prophecy of Usaias, which saith, 
 By hearing ye shall hear^ and shall not understand; 
 and seeing ye shall see, and shall not perceive, for 
 this people s heartiswaxed gross' — ['^is hardened" 
 — German Translation.] 
 
 We shall, in the first place, endeavour clearly to 
 understand what is meant by the word hardness; we 
 shall then see how this hardness displays itself in 
 Caiaphas; and, finally, we shall lay to heart what we 
 may learn from such a contemplation. 
 
 The very sound of the word gross, which occurs in 
 our text, has something revolting in it ; it sounds so 
 hard, so impervious ; and, indeed, it often is made use 
 of in the Scriptures as of equal import with the word 
 hardness. Do you know what a heart which has 
 waxed gross is ? It is a heart where the life of God 
 stagnates and stops. 
 
 Now the life of God may stagnate in a heart in dif- 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 29 
 
 ferent ways. It may stagnate because the finger of 
 God has been but feebly put forth to open the chan- 
 nels of that heart. Or, it may remain in a state of 
 stagnation, even when the finger of God is mightily 
 put forth upon it. Once more, it may begin to flow 
 under the breath of God, and after that collapse again 
 and grow harder than before. Of this last kind is the 
 hardness of the heart of Judas, which will form the 
 subject of our next discourse. Of the second kind is 
 the hardness of the heart of Caiaphas, which we shall 
 consider to-day. We have then to speak this day of 
 that heart which has waxed so gross that it cannot be 
 aroused any more, even when the breath of God 
 breathes forth upon it ; so insensible, that it will not 
 bestir itself any more, even when the finger of God 
 touches it mightily. 
 
 I have already said enough to make it clear to you 
 that wherever there is this insensibility, this harden- 
 ing of heart in a man, it is a sign that the grace of God 
 is there, or has been there. A heart that does not 
 move, that is not aroused, when God himself touches 
 it — 0, what a dreadful thought ! Before we proceed 
 with our meditation, it would be well for us to bear in 
 mind, that when we call such a heart, a heart that is 
 "waxed gross," we do not speak merely with reference 
 to pe'ople who are not present in this church. Possibly 
 some one may imagine, that in this case the preacher, 
 as so often happens, is preaching to those who are not 
 in the church, and that he exposes their wickedness — 
 why ? In order, forsooth, that we may complacently 
 soothe and cajole ourselves, and say, T thank thee, 
 
30 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 God, that I am not such an one as those men ! Away 
 with such a thought ! Much rather is it true that the 
 preacher addresses himself to those who are in the 
 church, even when he appears to preach only to those 
 that are without. This is the case when we speak of 
 hardness of heart. Will you deny that, in some degree 
 at least, the charge of having shut and sealed your 
 heart against God may be laid at your door ? Is there 
 then among you all, so much as one who, when God 
 would have touched his heart, has never once refused 
 to be impressed ? 0, Christians ! I at least would not 
 venture to answer yes in your name. The words 
 against hardness of heart concern us all ; and this will 
 be more clearly seen in the sequel. The truth that it 
 is only on the assumption that a man has been the 
 subject of the working of divine grace, that he can 
 harden his heart, is also expressed by our Lord in the 
 passage before us. He says of the people, that " with 
 seeing eyes they see not, and with hearing ears they 
 hear not." See, he here assumes that God has mani- 
 fested to them his grace. God has done wondrous 
 things before their eyes; they see them, and yet they 
 see them not : God speaks to them in a voice of invita- 
 tion and of reproof; they hear him, and yet they hear 
 him not. Does this form of expression surprise you? 
 You would expect to find simply — " They see not," 
 and "they hear not;" and it runs. With seeing eyes 
 they see not, with hearing ears they hear not. By 
 this way of putting, it is meant, that the object to be 
 seen and heard is brought within the cognizance of 
 eye and ear, and yet one does not see and hear them, 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 31 
 
 either because he cannot, or because he will not. In 
 the case of the people to whom Christ applies this 
 prophetic word, the former of these is true: they do 
 not see and hear, because they cannot. For of what 
 was he speaking. He was speaking of the mysteries 
 of the kingdom of God, of which he had, under the 
 veil of parables, discoursed to them, and they had not 
 the capacity to understand their meaning. But, you 
 will say, if one cannot understand a thing, why should 
 he on that account be called gross and hard-hearted ? 
 Now you may be very sure, that the Lord means to 
 say that in their inability to see and hear they were 
 not innocent. That they have not been concerned 
 enough about spiritual things, that they have not felt a 
 sufficient interest in the great mysteries of the hidden 
 life : this is what he would censure. For truly, it is 
 ever blameworthy in a man when he cannot understand 
 spiritual things. And hence it is, that even those who 
 belong to the first class of which we spoke, those in 
 whom the life of God has become stagnant, because 
 the finger of God has been but faintly put forth upon 
 them, must likewise be numbered among those whose 
 hearts have waxed insensible and gross. What is 
 meant by "not seeing with seeing eyes,'* is best 
 brought out in the second and third classes we spoke 
 of, in the case of which the objects come within the 
 range of the spiritual ear and spiritual eye, and yet 
 the man will neither hear nor see them. The sin of 
 hardening one's heart is, properly speaking, a sin of 
 wilfulness, not a sin of weakness. But on this very 
 account, I can conceive some of you imagining that 
 
32 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 "when I speak of the hardened, I am preaching to those 
 who are outside the church. For I have no doubt 
 there are many here who believe that their hands are 
 clean of wilful sins. 0, would it were so ! Would 
 we were all free from "presumptuous sins," as David 
 calls them, then it were well for us ! Do not misun- 
 derstand me, mj friends. I will not pronounce against 
 you and myself an exaggerated, unjust accusation. I 
 do not think there is so much as one here present who 
 would deliberately insult his conscience; there are 
 none here who, when conscience looks upon them with 
 the flaming eye of a judge, would dare in madness to 
 wield against her an impious blow. But this were an 
 extreme case indeed ; and if we would exculpate our- 
 selves of wilful sins, we must not compare ourselves 
 with the very worst instances of such sins. What I 
 ask is this : When it is a question of going out of con- 
 science's way, of throwing a cloak over its judging eye, 
 of quickly going to work and committing the intended 
 sin, before conscience can step in between us and the 
 object of our unlawful desire, and let its protesting 
 voice be heard — is there, I ask, so much as one here 
 present who will venture to say, "That I never did"? 
 What ! you never sought to escape the voice and eye 
 of conscience, you never silenced her warning voice, 
 you never threw a veil across her dreadful eye ? Ah ! 
 it were well with us if none of us had to charge him- 
 self with the commission of known and wilful sins! 
 And then think how many gradations there are 
 between sins knowingly committed and sins of igno- 
 rance. Between the extremes of warm and cold there 
 
OF THE HEAKTS OF MEN. 33 
 
 is lukewarmness ; between knowledge and ignorance 
 there is partial knowledge, that the Lord may 
 help us to attain that moral earnestness which pre- 
 sents a strong and unyielding front to evil, even when 
 put partially known ! Then at least would we be in 
 safety from falling under the judgment of hardness of 
 heart. 
 
 "Alas for him who scorns the voice of love, 
 And lends his ear to sin ! 
 The gracious call of Heaven no more shall move 
 His heart — alas for him! 
 
 The still small voice Divine he dares to spurn 
 
 In thunder once will sound; 
 And love contemned will once in judgment burn 
 
 His callous soul around!" 
 
 You see from this view of the power a man has to 
 harden his own heart, in what cases people really are 
 their own judges. Deny the reality of a day of future 
 judgment as you may, blot out the book of God's 
 remembrance which bears the record of your guilt, 
 and overturn the judgment-seat — all will not avail, so 
 long as within the breast of every hardened sinner he 
 himself keeps a dark register of his guilt — so long as 
 a judge sits upon the throne of his heart who pro- 
 nounces him "guilty;" — so long as retributive justice 
 follows close upon his guilt. For every time offered 
 grace is rejected, its second passage to the heart is 
 thereby rendered far more difficult. Does not the 
 man who, yesterday and to-day, has denied his con- 
 science what she ashed, become at length so fearfully 
 emboldened that he refuses to render her obedience, 
 4 
 
34 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 even when she commands and threatens ? Hence you 
 may understand how it is that hardness comes not 
 unfrequently to be represented in the Bible as an act 
 of God, as a judgment of God. "Whom he will he 
 hardeneth," we read. "He hath blinded their eyes, 
 and hardened their hearts." Many honest persons 
 have been scandalized at such expressions as these. 
 Others have sought to blunt their sharp edge by apply- 
 ing to it the file of a superficial exposition, and have 
 regarded them as merely Oriental forms of expression, 
 destitute of all substance and import. But they 
 have an import, an import of deepest significance. 
 For if we know that the judgment of hardness of heart 
 is not a thing that comes by chance, but has its prin- 
 ciple in a divine law, in a moral law of the world, 
 then it may truly be called a divine judgment, and we 
 may discern in it the acting and government of that 
 Divine Justice which rules the world. Still more 
 clearly may we see the truth of all this from the 
 sacred narrative. Christ has appeared as the test 
 whereby men are proved, and as such he has revealed 
 of what an amount of hardness of heart human nature 
 is capable. This has been exhibited in the case of 
 Caiaphas. Let us see how God bears testimony of 
 himself to him, and how he hardens himself against 
 God. When a heart becomes hard, the grace of God 
 must have been at work in that heart, the finger of 
 God must have been put forth to touch it. God had 
 touched the heart of Caiaphas. For Caiaphas was an 
 Israelite, more than this, he was high-priest ; Caiaphas 
 had seen the miracles of Christ,, he had seen the Son 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 35 
 
 of God upon the cross. Thus, and in so many ways, 
 "was the hand of God stretched out towards Caiaphas. 
 He was an Israelite, and thus one of the nation to 
 which a Saviour had been promised. How diligently 
 he must have searched in the writings of the prophets ! 
 How enraptured must he then have been, when, after 
 a lapse of four hundred years, a new prophet arose in 
 John the Baptist, and he heard him say of the pro- 
 mised of Israel, ''He standeth among you !" ! what 
 a feeling must it have been for every true Israelite 
 when it was said of Him for whom, from the beginning 
 of time, men had longed and waited, "He standeth 
 among you,'' And when the last of the prophets held 
 up his finger, and pointing to a certain Man amid the 
 crowd, said, "Behold the Lamb of God that taketh 
 away the sin of the world," what emotions must then 
 have filled the breast of Caiaphas ! True, it was no 
 easy thing for him to recognize in Christ the Messias 
 of whom the prophets had spoken. The prophets 
 speak of him in most places, though not in all, as an 
 earthly king, and dwell upon a kingdom of the Messiah 
 in glory ; and then again speak of his appearing as a 
 teacher or as a sufiering servant, without in general 
 making any interval elapse between these two appear- 
 ances. This makes their prophecy more obscure ; and 
 the darker the prophecy, so much the harder it is to 
 believe. Caiaphas, this may excuse thee, but does it 
 exculpate thee altogether ? No, it cannot altogether 
 clear thee. And why ? Let me put the case thus : 
 What would Caiaphas answer, if he stood before us 
 now and were asked, whether it was easier for the 
 
86 THE CROSS A EEVEALER 
 
 learned or for the unlearned of those days to recognize 
 in Jesus the Messias of prophecy? Caiaphas, what- 
 ever answer thou dost make can but prove that thou 
 wast guilty. Dost thou answer that it was easier for 
 the unlearned ? Well, the first chapter of John shows 
 how they ran one to another exclaiming, "We have 
 found the Messias." Or was it easier for the learned? 
 Well, surely Nicodemus was one of them — he is called 
 "a master in Israel;" and if Nicodemus could recog- 
 nize beneath that humble garb the King of Heaven, 
 why couldst not thou? Therefore on the last day 
 will Nicodemus be thy judge. Thus as an Israelite 
 the hand of God was stretched out towards Caiaphas. 
 But more than this, Caiaphas was the high-priest. 
 Israel is a priestly nation ; the priesthood of Israel is 
 her flower and crown, and the head of that priesthood 
 is the high-priest. Surely then the sparks of longing 
 for the coming Messiah, scattered among the whole 
 people, must have concentrated in his breast, and 
 burned there in an ardent flame ! What hopes, what 
 desires must have been called forth as he daily handled 
 the sacred symbols of the temple ! Caiaphas, when 
 day after day thou didst see the priests approach the 
 altars with their sacrifices; when, once every year, 
 anew thou didst enter the Holy of Holies, with the 
 sacrifice of propitiation for the whole people; is it 
 possible that thou never didst feel within thee a strong 
 longing for a Redeemer who should cause that endless 
 series of ofi"erings to cease — who should make atone- 
 ment for the sins of his people to all eternity? Per- 
 haps he never felt such longings. Well ! in the case 
 
OF THE HEAETS OF MEN. 37 
 
 of some, Christ comes to meet half-way longings which 
 already exist in the breast; in the case of others, he 
 calls them forth for the first time by his appearance 
 itself, and then these longings are satisfied as soon as 
 they arise — but such cases are rare and exceptional. 
 
 And now the Son of God was made manifest, full 
 of grace and truth ! A voice exclaimed in Galilee, 
 "To whom shall we go but unto Thee? Thou hast 
 the words of eternal life." In Jerusalem another 
 voice was heard — it was that of the aged Nicodemus 
 — "Master, thou art a teacher come from God." 
 As he entered into the city, the little children cried, 
 "Hosanna to the Son of David!" Eut neither the 
 voices of the aged, nor the cries of the children, could 
 reach the heart of Caiaphas. " They have ears and 
 hear not'' A man is brought before the High Coun- 
 cil in Jerusalem, where Caiaphas as high-priest pre- 
 sides. This man is known in the whole neighbour- 
 hood as one blind from his youth. He has recovered 
 his sight by a miracle performed by Jesus, and now 
 he is brought before the Council in order to be exa- 
 mined. But it turns out here, as in the case of many 
 another examination of evidence, that the mind of the 
 examiners is made up before they have even begun 
 their questioning; the evidence is therefore of no 
 avail. The blind man gives his testimony to the fact 
 in question, so do his parents; but the answer is: 
 "We know that God spake by Moses, but as for this 
 fellow, we know not from whence he is." " They 
 have eyes and see not,'" 
 
 The final catastrophe is drawing nigh. Lazarus 
 
 4* 
 
38 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 has risen from the dead ; the people in Jerusalem are 
 in a state of great agitation; once more the High 
 Council has met. "This man doth many miracles," 
 is the testimony given by those enemies of Christ. 
 They can now explain away his miracles no longer. 
 There they are, in stern, incontestable reality, and 
 they come with power upon their conscience. Some 
 vacillation is perceptible among the members of that 
 council, and indeed two of them, as we know — Nico- 
 demus, and Joseph of Arimathea — are decided friends 
 of Jesus. Once more the conscience of Caiaphas lifts 
 up its voice within him. But to no purpose. They 
 have ears and hear not. So far from listening to the 
 internal monitor, he appears rather to fear lest the 
 aroused consciences of the others should carry his 
 away too. "Ye know nothing at all," he says, "nor 
 consider that it is expedient for us that one man 
 should die for the people, and that the whole nation 
 perish not" (or, "rather than that disturbances should 
 arise.") counsel of Hell! Judas would be regard- 
 ed as a friend of the poor, when he was all the while 
 stealing from the bag ; and Caiaphas would be looked 
 upon as the father of his country when he condemns 
 to death the Saviour. This is the cunning of the 
 Devil, if a man but once begin to look about for rea- 
 sons when conscience speaks to him, instead of at 
 once obeying its voice ; reasons indeed why he should 
 disobey it ! 
 
 One final probation awaits him. He has hardened 
 himself in the sight of the living Jesus — will his heart 
 not soften when he sees that Jesus in death? He has 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 39 
 
 hardened himself against the living Jesus, even in 
 that last momentous interview, when He was brought 
 before him to be judged. The high-priest had, as 
 judge, addressed to Him the solemn question: "I 
 adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whe- 
 ther thou be the Christ, the Son of God;" and He 
 whom he judged stood there, and, with all the ma- 
 jesty of an offended king, replied: "Thou hast said. 
 From this time forward shall ye see the Son of God 
 sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the 
 clouds of heaven." But Caiaphas saw and heard 
 Jesus then, as he had heard and seen him before, 
 unsoftened, unmoved. Well, he has stood that sight, 
 but will he hold out against the look of that royal 
 head, when, crowned with thorns and streaming with 
 blood, it is turned upon him ? Judas could not stand 
 that sight — even he could not bring himself to that. 
 Pilate himself was overpowered by the wonderful 
 majesty of his appearance ; and the Evangelist records 
 that, when Jesus came forth wearing the crown of 
 thorns and the purple robe, he exclaimed, "Behold 
 the man!" The people, too, are overwhelmed by the 
 sight, and when Pilate gives them the choice between 
 Jesus and Barabbas, a certain vacillation is observed 
 among them (Mark xv. 11.) But Caiaphas was firm. 
 0! he was a strong man, this Caiaphas! He well 
 knew the art — the subtlest that there is out of hell — of 
 mingling a sleeping-draught for his conscience. But 
 it was not only his own conscience that he put to 
 sleep, but also that of the people : do we not read that 
 the chief priests moved the people that he should 
 
40 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 rather release Barabbas unto them? Was I not then 
 right, when I said that beneath the cross is truly- 
 manifested to what a degree the human heart may 
 harden itself against the truth ? 
 
 If jou ever wished to see an instance how what is 
 esteemed of men may be an abomination in the eyes 
 of God, and again, how that may be highly esteemed 
 by God which is abhorred of men, look at the cross, 
 and you will see one there. What a strange contrast 
 is there presented. Beneath, the high-priest stands, 
 exclaiming: "He saved others, himself he cannot 
 save. Let Christ the King of Israel descend now 
 from the cross that we may see and believe;" and 
 upon the cross there hangs a guilty criminal, who yet 
 recognizes in him who is crucified beside him the 
 opener of the gates of Paradise, and cries: "Lord, 
 remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." 
 
 But I have not yet completed my picture. After 
 the history of the Passion follows that of the Resur- 
 rection, and the Acts of the Apostles succeed the 
 Evangelistic narrative. Let us then see if in the sub- 
 sequent history we shall not find something more of 
 Caiaphas. It must indeed have been a great relief 
 for the rulers of the people, when at length Jesus was 
 laid in the quiet grave. They must have felt as one 
 does when some difficult and dangerous enterprise has 
 been conducted to a successful issue. About the 
 grave, too, everything was still. They were not, 
 indeed, exempted from all further concern in the 
 matter: and from one quarter their victory might be 
 endangered. They remembered, as we read, that 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 41 
 
 " this deceiver had said : After three days I will rise 
 again." But an infallible means is at hand of provi- 
 ding against such a catastrophe; the grave is secured 
 by a guard: and now they are perfectly at ease. 
 Who can, therefore, imagine the magnitude of their 
 horror, when on the morning of the third day the 
 watchmen appeared, and with their own mouth ad- 
 dressed to the high-priests the first Easter sermon? 
 If in all the events which had preceded this one, the 
 conscience of Caiaphas had been unmoved, surely now 
 at least he must have felt some emotion. "What!" 
 — we may suppose the internal voice to have whis- 
 pered the suggestion — "what! can it be that that. 
 Jesus is not after all — 0, resist not — stay, desist!" 
 **Be still, thou coward conscience, how thou dost dis- 
 turb me! Shall I fear thee? Be still!"— And thus 
 once more was the Divine monitor within put to 
 silence. The watch, we read, received money, and 
 were told to give out that the disciples had came by 
 night and stolen away the body. 
 
 Even this was not the last occasion on which the 
 hand of God was stretched out towards Caiaphas. If 
 we turn to the fourth chapter of the Acts of the Apos- 
 tles, we shall find another meeting of the Council 
 assembled some ten weeks later at Jerusalem, and 
 again this same high-priest presides. Before them 
 stands one well-known as a lame man to all those who 
 went to the temple, whom the two apostles have cured 
 of his lameness. Peter stands before the court, and 
 thus he speaks : "Be it known unto you all, and to all 
 the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ 
 
42 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 of Nazareth, whom ye crucified, whom God raised 
 from the dead, even by him, doth this man stand 
 before you, whole!" And Caiaphas must hear all 
 this ! And if he was able to deny to his conscience 
 the earthquake and the broken seals, and the grave- 
 stone rolled away, there is one thing at least which he 
 cannot deny; he cannot gainsay the fact that, if the 
 Crucified is not risen indeed, he is certainly risen and 
 lives again in the spirit of these his disciples, those 
 men who, so shortly before, stood trembling and 
 silent by the cross, and who now in the name of this 
 same Jesus call to the lame man to "arise and walk!" 
 No, this he cannot deny. So what does he do ? He 
 condemns the disciples "not to speak at all, nor 
 preach in the name of Jesus." Is not this, in deed 
 and in truth, "having eyes and seeing not?" Where 
 then, I ask, has it ever been discovered to such an 
 extent as in this narrative, that the heart of man can 
 harden itself against self-evident truth ? 
 
 And wherefore have we opened up this history 
 together ? Is it in order that we may go away full of 
 self-satisfaction, saying: "I thank thee, God, that I 
 am not such a man as Caiaphas?" That were a poor 
 lesson indeed ! The first thing which we have to think 
 of in contemplating this narrative is this: Caiaphas 
 was a man, and the humanity that dwelt in his breast 
 was the same that dwells in mine. One of the ancients 
 has said: "I am a man; and nothing human is alien 
 to me." A profound saying, and one capable of being 
 applied in many ways. Thus, I am a man, and in 
 every man I see my own flesh and blood, and that 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 43 
 
 which I would that they should do unto me, I shall do 
 to them. But the saying may be taken in another 
 sense: I am a man, and, therefore, nothing that at 
 any time men have done, is alien to my humanity. 
 First, then, what I would seek to impress upon your 
 heart and upon my own, is, that we should bear in 
 mind what is the only right way in which we may 
 speak of the sins of other men. And that is, without 
 ever forgetting that their sins dwell also in our own 
 nature. Let no man undertake to sit in judgment, 
 or to pronounce upon the sins of the ungodly, without 
 at the same time judging the sins of his own breast. 
 We dare not condemn even the hard-heartedness of a 
 Gaiaphas, unless we also condemn the daily-exhibited 
 tendency of our own hearts to harden themselves 
 against the truth. Further, my brethren, the exam- 
 ple of Caiaphas shows us in a very peculiar way that 
 it is possible for God to seek to gain a heart by a 
 thousand signs and attestations of grace, and yet all 
 in vain. Is not this an important lesson for these 
 times of ours, when so many think, that unless signs 
 and wonders again take place, men will not be held 
 accountable for their unbelief? Should not the case 
 of Caiaphas teach us that the unbelief of our times 
 does nowise arise from God doing too little ? Think 
 you that men would believe now^ any more than they 
 did in his days, even if the signs and wonders which 
 he witnessed were repeated before our eyes ? Let the 
 heavens once more open, let the Son of God once 
 more come down, full of grace and truth ; let the cross 
 of Calvary rise anew, let a second Easter morn dawn 
 
44 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 upon the world ! — But all this occurred eighteen centu- 
 ries ago, all this Caiaphas saw, and yet he believed 
 not: and think you that human nature is different 
 now from what it was then ? 0, it is the very nature 
 of that spiritual insensibility of which we speak that, 
 with eyes to see, it is, notwithstanding, blind. Let 
 us then acknowledge what a fearful state this spiritual 
 insensibility is, and if we acknowledge how fearful a 
 state it is, we will surely not leave this sacred house 
 without renewing our determination to regard the 
 voice of conscience as something holy, and to flee even 
 from that which we do but partially know to be evil. 
 For this insensibility does not come all at once : a man 
 begins by shutting his eyes to truth only half-recof- 
 nized, and he ends by openly insulting truth which he 
 fully knows. 
 
 Beloved in the Lord, it is the time of Advent. 
 This meditation is also well suited for Advent. If we 
 wish Christ to come to us we must fulfil the conditions 
 under which alone he can come. Now, his own words 
 teach us that among those conditions, one of the very 
 first is, sincerity and faithfulness towards the inward 
 voice, and a tender conscience. "If any man," he 
 says, "will do the will of him that sent me, he shall 
 know of the doctrine whether it be of God." When 
 Christ says, "Whosoever learneth of the Father, 
 cometh to me," and again, "No man can come to me, 
 except the Father, which hath sent me, draw him," 
 he means by this nothing else but the voice of con- 
 science, for by it the Heavenly Father teaches us that 
 this is the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 45 
 
 of the world. May the tenderness of conscience 
 which makes us sinners in our own eyes, make us also 
 men such as know no more blessed joy than the joys 
 of Christmas when to us a Saviour is born ! Father, 
 teach thou us, draw thou us, help thou us. Amen, 
 
 SERMON III. 
 
 THE HISTORY OP OUR SAVIOUR's PASSION MAKES MANIFEST IN" 
 JUDAS TO WHAT A DEGREE THE HUMAN HEART MAY HARDEN 
 ITSELF AGAINST THE TRUTH, AFTER HATING KNOWN THE WAY OP 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS. 
 
 2 Peter ii. 20, 21. — For if after they have escaped the pollutions of 
 the world, through the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour Jesus 
 Christ, they are again entangled therein, and overcome, the latter 
 end is worse with them than the beginning. For it had been better 
 for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than, after 
 they have known it, to turn from the holy commandment delivered 
 unto them. 
 
 We have placed ourselves by the cross of Christ, in 
 order that we might there see how the appearance of 
 Christ in the world makes manifest what is in the 
 heart of man. Caiaphas was the first to meet us there. 
 In him we saw an instance of the extent to which the 
 human heart can harden itself against the truth of 
 God. Those of you who followed our meditation must 
 have been deeply struck with the disclosures of the 
 heart which that history makes. You have turned your 
 eye inward upon yourselves too, and have said with 
 5 
 
46 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 alarm: It was a human heart which thus hardened 
 itself, and I participate in a like human nature, the 
 seed of that very sin dwells in me ! And these are, in 
 truth, the feelings which such a contemplation should 
 call forth. I already mentioned, that in the history 
 of the Passion a second instance of hardness of heart 
 comes before us, and to this we shall to-day direct our 
 attention. That second instance is presented to us in 
 Judas Iscariot. Hardness of heart is, then, where the 
 life of God stagnates in the heart. This may be in 
 one of two ways. The finger of God may be put 
 forth to touch the heart of man, and yet that heart 
 may remain unmoved: that was the case with Caia- 
 phas. Again, the finger of God is put forth upon the 
 heart of a man ; that heart moves beneath its touch, 
 begins to beat ; but alas, it is only to collapse more 
 hopelessly, and become more fatally hardened and 
 insensible than before : this was the case with Judas. 
 
 You will find the passage of Scripture which we 
 shall make the basis of this meditation, in 2 Peter ii. 
 20, 21 : " For if after they have escaped the pollutions 
 of the world, through the knowledge of the Lord and 
 Saviour Jesus Christ, they are again entangled 
 therein, and overcome, the latter end is worse with 
 them than the beginning. For it had been better for 
 them not to have known the way of righteousness, 
 than, after they have known it, to turn from the holy 
 commandment delivered unto them.'^ 
 
 I might have chosen a saying of our Lord as the 
 text of this discourse, one to which these apostolic 
 words do also appear to refer. You remember the 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 47 
 
 words of our Lord: "When the unclean spirit is gone 
 out of a man, he walketh through dry places seeking 
 rest, and finding none. Then he saith, I will return 
 unto my house; and when he is come he findeth it 
 swept and garnished; then he goeth and taketh to 
 himself seven other spirits ; and the last state of that 
 man is worse than the first." The thought is the 
 same, only the Apostle expresses it without a figure, 
 and therefore more intelligibly. I might also refer you 
 for expressions of the same truth to the sayings of 
 daily life. Do we not say, " No stronger hate than 
 after strong love," and many similar sayings. Thus 
 does common experience harmonize with the experience 
 of the kingdom of God. "It had been better not to 
 have known the way of righteousness, than, after hav- 
 ing known it, to turn from the holy commandment." 
 
 Let us first inquire why this is so, and then show, 
 from the example of Judas, that it is so. We shall be 
 sensible this day to what an extent a heart which has 
 already tasted of the truth, which has already walked 
 in the way of righteousness, is capable of becoming 
 hardened ; and in the contemplation every man must 
 lay it seriously to heart, because we are human, and 
 the human heart is radically the same in all. There 
 is not one of us who has not cause with David to con- 
 fess before God: "Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, 
 and in sin did my mother conceive me." 
 
 Why is it so? Why is it better never to have 
 known the way of righteousness, than, after having 
 known it, to turn from it? First on this account, 
 because it is a baser outrage against a man's con- 
 
48 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 science to fall away from truth which has once "been 
 known, than to refuse to know it; and further, 
 because the baser this outrage against conscience, the 
 heavier will be the judgments of Grod which shall 
 overtake it. What we have seen in the case of Caia- 
 phas was surely a most base outrage against con- 
 science. When God comes so very near a man, when 
 he daily does signs and wonders before his face, and 
 yet with eyes to see he does not see him, with ears to 
 hear he does not hear his voice, surely this is to offer 
 a grievous insult to the grace of God, surely this is 
 most basely to outrage one's conscience. Neverthe- 
 less, a carnal-minded man like that regards the truth 
 as a hostile, unwarranted power, which begins to wage 
 war with him, and against which he must defend him- 
 self. Of such a profane man, one may say that he is 
 in a state of warfare against the truth, but one can 
 scarcely call him a rebel against her authority. Now, 
 whether is the greater transgressor against the king 
 of a country — the open enemy without the frontiers, 
 or the rebellious subject within the gates? And such 
 is the difference between those who have not yet 
 known the truth, and those who, after having known 
 it, have turned their back upon it : such is the differ- 
 ence between a Caiaphas and a Judas. Caiaphas was 
 a foe : Judas was a rebel. Doubtless it is dreadful to 
 think that a man made by God should acknowledge in 
 that God no sovereign rights over him. But there 
 may be something even worse. To have at one time 
 owned those rights ; to have had times when one could 
 say, "Thou, and thou only, art my King and my 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. . 49 
 
 God;" to have had seasons in which one had upon his 
 knees before God sworn to him the oath of homage : 
 and after all this to have turned one's back upon him, 
 and forsaken the way of righteousness, ! this is the 
 most dreadful thing that can happen upon earth. 
 When in the parable the Lord speaks as judge to his 
 servant, and says, " Out of thine own mouth will I judge 
 thee, thou wicked servant," we think how deep a sense 
 of shame must have overwhelmed that servant. And 
 thus in the judgment of God shall all those wicked ser- 
 vants be dealt with who, after having known the way 
 of righteousness, turn their back upon it. 
 
 You will be in a position to see more clearly how it 
 must be so, when you have considered the consequences 
 which follow such a course. I said that the baser the 
 outrage done to the conscience^ so much the more 
 grievous will he the judgments of Grod which overtake 
 it. And, first, I call upon you not to deceive your- 
 selves by imagining that there can be any other alter- 
 native with regard to the sins of men but this : either 
 they are pardoned in time, or they will be punished in 
 eternity. Pardon in time, or punishment in eternity; 
 and the measure of the punishment of unpardoned sins 
 will be according to the degree of their guilt. God 
 is righteous, and his righteousness is manifest here. 
 There is, I am persuaded, no one here present who has 
 dealt with himself with but moral earnestness, who 
 cannot give his own experimental testimony to what 
 a blighting, withering influence a deviation from prin- 
 ciples which one holds sacred exercises upon the whole 
 inner man. A breath of fire seems to go forth from 
 5* 
 
60 . THE CROSS A REVEALBR 
 
 the evil word or deed, which makes all the leaves and 
 blossoms of the soul parched and withered. As soon 
 as the word spoken in violation of better knowledge 
 has crossed the lips, as soon as the unrighteous deed 
 has been committed, a feeling of numbness comes over 
 all the soul : all one's strength is lost, all one's spirit 
 is gone, and the man stands there as if he was struck 
 from head to foot with a sort of spiritual paralysis. 
 It is as if one were precipitated from the top of a 
 mountain into the valley below ; and at first one sees 
 no possibility of ever being able to regain the summit 
 from which he fell. This is the case even when but 
 one deviation from the way of truth is perpetrated. 
 And if such is one's experience, when but once a man 
 has proved traitor to his conscience, has but once 
 swerved from the right path, think what it must be in 
 the case of him who altogether turned his back upon 
 the well-known ways of righteousness. That there are 
 apostates in this church is more than I am warranted 
 to believe. But there may be some among you who 
 were once in earnest about Christianity ; and there are 
 certainly those who, at one time, sought to act towards 
 themselves with conscientious strictness, but who have 
 again lost hold of themselves, and who now, as before, 
 "wander round, caught by earth's shadows as they 
 fleet," or float in giddy thoughtlessness upon the glit- 
 tering waves of worldly pleasures. My friends, the 
 pangs you feel are far from being those of the men 
 who have utterly fallen away, and yet how grievously 
 does your conscience oppress you ! How does all con- 
 fidence in yourselves fail you now, how does all con- 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 51 
 
 fidence fail you in your God ! What a thorn you bear 
 in your heart, which pains you, perhaps not keenly, 
 but continually, like a gnawing worm ! Have you not, 
 in the internal agony of the conflict between your 
 better knowledge and an evil action, sometimes felt as 
 if you could have wished in your despair rather never 
 to have known the way of righteousness ? Ay, and it 
 has sometimes happened — and this belongs to the most 
 fearful passages in the history of the human heart — it 
 has happened, that in order to escape the sting of 
 being half in bondage to sin, men have surrendered 
 themselves wholly to its power. Because their double 
 service of God and the devil left them no rest, they 
 gave themselves up wholly to the devil. 0, would 
 they had rather given themselves wholly to God ! But 
 alas, they could do this no longer, and why ? Because 
 they could not believe any more. I wish to speak 
 more particularly of this judgment of hardening of 
 the heart, because it is the one which comes more pro- 
 minently before us in the case of Judas. The man 
 who turns his back upon the known ways of righteous- 
 ness, loses, according to the degree in which he does 
 so, the power to believe, and therewith the power to 
 return to those ways. He who never has been born 
 again, thinks that to believe on a God of grace is a 
 very easy matter indeed : he does not know what sin 
 is, and hence he cannot understand what grace is. 
 But after a man has come to know what is meant by 
 sin, and what is implied in grace, how hard does it 
 become for him, after some act of great unfaithfulness, 
 to find again strength to believe ! Thus, when it does 
 
52 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 occur that Christians, who have been once enlightened, 
 and have once tasted "the good word of God, and the 
 powers of the world to conie," that even thej fall away 
 into carnal sin, or any other heinous transgression, at 
 no time in such a case is the danger of total apostasy 
 far distant. And why ? Because they thus lose the 
 power to believe. 
 
 What a fearful instance of this does the fall of 
 David present. If we examine carefully the different 
 intimations of Scripture in that history, we shall come 
 to the conclusion that his condition after his fall must 
 have resembled one of profound stupor. He was as a 
 man who has fallen from some high elevation, and who 
 knows not what has happened to him, far less how he 
 shall ever regain the height from which he fell. David 
 then appears to collect himself; he begins to under- 
 stand his position. But, alas ! the way to his God is 
 now shut against him — that way he once knew so well. 
 Conscience, as an insurmountable barrier, opposes 
 itself to him, arising like an inexorable partition-wall 
 between him and his God. He dare not now draw 
 near to him ; and one long, weary year has passed ere 
 the words of Nathan at length bring light across this 
 deep night of darkness. Hear how he describes the 
 sorrow which consumed his soul: "When I kept 
 silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all 
 the day long. For day and night Thy hand was 
 heavy upon me : my moisture is turned into the 
 drought of summer." awake, ye careless Chris- 
 tians ! awake to a consciousness of the reality of the 
 judgment of God ! He who does not persevere in the 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 53 
 
 "way of righteousness so long as he can, can at last no 
 longer when he would ! And thus do the consequences 
 of apostasy show why it is better never to have known 
 the way of righteousness, than when it has once been 
 known, to turn one's back upon it. 
 
 Let us now illustrate the truth of our text by the 
 example of Judas. Here we have to show — first^ that 
 it can be said also of Judas, that he had at one time 
 •walked in the way of righteousness ; secondly, how he 
 turned his back upon that way of righteousness ; and 
 thirdly, what judgments followed his apostasy. 
 
 Judas had once walked in the way of righteous- 
 ness. There are, indeed, many who doubt whether it 
 can truly be said of Judas, that he ever walked in 
 that way. There are many who think that no spark 
 of faith or piety ever burned in his breast; that in 
 joining himself to Christ he was, from the very first, 
 influenced by no other motive than the wish to acquire 
 honour and riches, through a Messiah "who he expect- 
 ed was to come forth as a mighty conqueror. But if 
 this was the case, why then did Christ choose him as 
 one of the twelve? True it is, Christ said on one 
 occasion concerning him: "Have not I chosen you 
 twelve, and one of you is a devil." But if the Lord 
 chose him especially from among the multitude of 
 his followers, it must have been because he saw some- 
 thing in him to justify such a choice. Then again, 
 when Christ spoke those words, a year had already 
 elapsed since the time of his election ; and in a year 
 much may happen — especially in nearness to Jesus. 
 For we must bear in mind that this nearness to Jesus 
 
54 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 must have worked very effectively upon the spirits of 
 his disciples. He was like a moral sun, which matures 
 the growth of good plants, but at the same time 
 scorches those which have no root. And in this sense 
 also it is true, that by him "are the thoughts of many 
 hearts revealed." But what most distinctly shows 
 that Judas must have gone at least a certain length 
 upon the way of righteousness, is the account we read 
 of the effect produced upon him by his oyn dark deed 
 of treachery. So great was his remorse at the re- 
 membrance of his crime, that he could rather commit 
 self-murder than endure the thought of having deli- 
 vered him up to death. If you do but endeavour to 
 realize his circumstances, you will, I think, conclude 
 that Christ must have made on his mind a strong, ay, 
 an overpowering impression. When, casting down 
 the thirty pieces of silver in the temple, he exclaimed, 
 "I have betrayed the innocent blood;" he must have 
 meant by that word innocent, a great deal more than 
 one usually means when one speaks of an innocent 
 man. Because it is certain that a man like him would 
 never have laid violent hands upon himself from 
 remorse at having betrayed a merely innocent man. 
 Where, indeed, should we find a similar case to this 
 in history; although it records instances enough of 
 men who have betrayed innocent blood ? It is there- 
 fore evident that Judas once knew the path of right- 
 eousness, and had even walked some little way there- 
 in. We admit that he may not have been influenced 
 by bad and selfish motives, when he first sought the 
 company of Jesus; yet with all that, he must have 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 55 
 
 been a block of timber out of which something could 
 be made for the kingdom of God — his heart must 
 have been a soil from which the plants of righteous- 
 ness might have been reared. And, at least in the 
 early period of his discipleship, there must have gone 
 forth from Jesus even into his heart, some rays full 
 of warmth and of light. 
 
 Further, let us inquire how it was that Judas eame 
 to turn his back upon the way of righteousness ? A 
 wise man of ancient Greece used the remarkable expres- 
 sion: That as there is no pomegranate in which at 
 least one corrupt seed may not be found, so there is no 
 man altogether without some bad spot in his nature. 
 And it is scarcely less remarkable that that saying 
 has been adopted by that great philosopher of modern 
 times, who has expressed his conviction that every 
 man, even the best, has his price, at which he will be 
 ready to sell his virtue when his hour of trial comes. 
 Yes, my brethren, each one of us has his corrupt spot, 
 each of us has his bosom sin. And our bosom sin is 
 the weak side of our nature. It is that part of us 
 where temptation first assails us ; it is the feeblest and 
 worst defended point in the citadel, where Satan sets 
 his scaling-ladders when he would take possession of a 
 human heart. 0, that every one would endeavour to 
 find out his bosom sin, for if he knows it, he knows the 
 price at which he is venal in the hour of trial ! But 
 the worst of it is, it is precisely our most corrupt spot 
 that we generally know least about — and why? just 
 because we are so sensitive about it. Few come to 
 
56 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 know it through their friends ; more readily may it be 
 learned from one's enemies. 
 
 Now, covetousness was Judas's bosom sin. One 
 feature of his early life has been preserved to us by 
 John, and that is sufficient to let us understand all 
 that follows. He had doubtless a natural talent which 
 was closely allied to his darling sin, and that was a 
 talent for money matters and keeping accounts, and 
 therefore it was that the common purse was confided 
 to his care. But he stole the money of the Lord and 
 of the poor. He stole the money of the poor; and 
 yet, when Mary took the box of precious ointment, 
 and poured it upon the Saviour's feet, because she 
 loved much, he affected a true philanthropy, and was 
 indignant that so much money (for the value of the 
 ointment was about forty-five dollars) should have 
 been withheld from the poor. Do we not feel, when 
 we contemplate this heart, as if we looked down into 
 an open sepulchre, full of all uncleanness? I^ow the 
 whole subsequent narrative becomes intelligible to one. 
 Yes ; a man such as that could betray the Saviour. It 
 is said that when he betrayed the Lord he entertained 
 the hope that Jesus would set himself free again. It 
 may have been so : but we do not require to receive 
 this assumption in order to make his committing such 
 a crime conceivable. The man who thus surrenders 
 himself to sin, falls wholly into its power: over him it 
 acquires irresistible control, so that at length he no 
 longer knows what he does. Men may be so under 
 the power of lust that it drives them — whither, they 
 know not j whither, reason and conscience do not ask. 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 57 
 
 And this is the case with every passion when it is 
 allowed to grow to a great degree : let any passion rule 
 unbridled within you, and it will bring you to such a 
 state that you no longer know what you are doing. 
 How many better thoughts had Judas to crush within 
 him, before it came to this with him. 
 
 Our eye rests in general only on that last point of 
 the fatal way that Jadas went, when the Lord said to 
 him: "What thou doest, do quickly," after which, as 
 John tells us, "he went out, and it was night." We 
 think that this was the moment in which the devil 
 contended for his soul. But the heat of the conflict 
 was not in this moment. It was rather in the hour, 
 when, for the first time, he put forth his hand towards 
 the purse, the purse of the Lord and of the poor: this 
 was the moment when the devil made his chief assault 
 upon his heart. 
 
 Without are foes on every hand, 
 
 And traitors lurk within! 
 Who can Satan's wiles withstand 
 
 That is in league with sin? 
 
 From that fatal hour in which he first put forth his 
 hand to commit the first act of theft, the flame of con- 
 science burns every day more faintly, and sin becomes 
 every day more easy. Brethren, if the flame of con- 
 science is to burn, it must be fed, and prayer is the 
 oil that feeds it. But Judas had ceased to pray; for 
 Judas was a hypocrite, and a hypocrite cannot pray. 
 We may deceive our fellow-men, but God cannot be 
 deceived, and this every one who draws near to him 
 6 
 
58 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 in prayer must feel. And thus, onwards from those 
 first days of his intercourse with the Saviour, the 
 motions of his heart toward? God grew feebler, until 
 they cease altogether; until, at length, no finger of 
 warning and of threatening is held up before his soul 
 any more, at least if there is, he sees it not — if it 
 cries, Desist! he hears it not. And so on until he 
 becomes a traitor. And the name with which he 
 passes into the world's history is — the Traitor! See 
 you not here to what an extent that man may become 
 hardened, who has once known the way of righteous- 
 ness? At the cross of Christ it is revealed. 0! let 
 him that standeth take heed lest he fall ! 
 
 It remains now that I speak of the judgments which 
 follow the sin of thus doing outrage to ones conscience. 
 We have mentioned them in part already. We have 
 already seen that the conscience which to-day is 
 unheard, and scornfully repulsed, will speak to-mor- 
 row with a less audible voice ; and that daily the path 
 of sin becomes smoother and more easy. This is the 
 judgment of hardness which is most immediate and 
 unfailing. Sin punishes itself with sin — momentous 
 and world ancient truth, which the poets and wise 
 men among the heathen proclaimed. And what is 
 most fatal in that truth is the view, that with every 
 step further into sin, return becomes more difficult, 
 and this very especially in the case of those who have 
 once known the way of righteousness and have turned 
 their back upon it. For thus they lose the power to 
 believe and to love, and when that is gone, how shall 
 they return again into the region of peace and of life? 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 59 
 
 Observe to what an extent Judas lost the capacity to 
 love. What human heart can be untouched by the 
 contemplation of the serene and solemn demeanour of 
 Jesus towards him when the first season was past, and 
 sin had begun to do its work. On the one hand, 
 there is that divine earnestness with which, from time 
 to time, he uttered the voice of prophetic warning in 
 his ear. And on the other hand, that considerate 
 love with which, in these warnings, he ever spared 
 him before the disciples, never mentioning his name, 
 just as if he was addressing a secret word to his heart 
 alone, by which he constantly and unweariedly wooed 
 his heart — ever up to that majestic close, when he 
 washed the traitor's feet! And by all that, Judas 
 was untouched ; to all he was insensible. For he that 
 has himself ceased to love, can no longer understand 
 the love of others. In his dead heart all is voiceless 
 and mute. Even when he took the pieces of silver, 
 his heart was unmoved; the price of Him that was 
 valued did not burn in his hand. But he awoke at 
 last. One often sees the motions of conscience, which 
 for years have been repressed, at length, in the mo- 
 ment of decision, when the fatal die is cast, break out 
 within the deadened soul, like a storm gathering from 
 all parts of the heavens. And thus it happens here. 
 At the very moment when the nameless deed of in- 
 famy was going on; when Pilate was saying, '^Take 
 ye him and crucify him;" and when he, in whom even 
 Pilate could find no guilt, was led away between two 
 thieves to execution : then it is that the pent-up storm 
 burst out in fury within the conscience of the traitor. 
 
60 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 And as he heard a voice cry out against him from 
 every fold of that conscience — "Traitor, traitor!" the 
 feeling that awoke within him was — "Yes, I loved him 
 once; once I was loved by him!" But from such 
 thoughts as these he could derive consolation no 
 longer: they were but the beginning of the pains of 
 eternal judgment; for alas! he had then no longer 
 power to believe. He had no pity for himself, how 
 then could he hope that Christ would have pity on 
 him? True, even then it was not too late! 0, it was 
 not too late ! Judas, why didst thou not, even then, 
 hasten to the spot where thy Master was breathing 
 out his life? Surely he who opened the gates of 
 Paradise to the crucified thief would have had com- 
 passion upon thee! And if he could not stretch out 
 towards thee his nail-pierced hands — if his mouth, 
 already closed in the last death-struggle, could no 
 longer speak the word, "Father, forgive!" — yet 
 surely his closing eye would have proclaimed thy 
 pardon, yes, even thine! But alas! in vain had it 
 spoken thy forgiveness: for what does pardon avail 
 where there is not faith to receive it, to make it our 
 own ? And this is the most frightful of all the judg- 
 ments which follow upon hardness of heart, that when 
 God is willing to forgive, the man can no longer be- 
 lieve in forgiveness. 0, overwhelming truth ! Where- 
 fore do we look forward to the end of time and doubt- 
 ingly inquire, if a throne of judgment be erected 
 there? Look here! Behold a judgment-seat in every 
 sinner's breast, and around it all the terrors of a right- 
 eous God! 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 61 
 
 Now we know that it is better to have a cold heart 
 than one which has grown lukewarm, for the cold heart 
 can be more easily warmed. Now we know why it is 
 better not to have known the way of righteousness, 
 than after having known it, to turn one's back upon 
 it; for the way thither is infinitely less difficult than 
 the way back. And why have I proclaimed this truth ? 
 In order that we may be ashamed and confounded at 
 Judas? I tell you, No! but that we may be ashamed 
 and confounded at our own selves; and that every one 
 that standeth may take heed lest he fall! 
 
 Thou eternal Mercy, who condemnest none but 
 those who condemn themselves, help us, we pray, that 
 we may not condemn ourselves ! Thou eternal 
 Justice, who on the earth didst so mightily reveal thy 
 terrors in the breast of the hardened sinner, help us, 
 we pray, that we fall not under thine eternal judg- 
 ments. Amen ! 
 
 SERMON lY. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUR's PASSION MAKES MANIFEST IN 
 PILATE TO WHAT A DEGREE THE HUMAN HEART IS CAPABLE 
 OF SHALLOWNESS AND VANITY. 
 
 John xviii. 38. — "Pilate saith unto Him, What is truth? And 
 when he had said this, he went out again unto the Jews." 
 
 We have been contemplating the revelation of the 
 human heart presented to us in the history of our 
 Saviour's passion. We have seen what is implied in 
 the sin of hardening the heart, both in those who will 
 6* 
 
62 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 know nothing of Christ at all, and of those who, after 
 having once known the way of righteousness, have 
 turned their back upon it. To-day a different character 
 will come under our view — another of the dark sides 
 of human nature will unfold itself before us. The two 
 characters which have hitherto formed the subject of 
 our contemplation, have been such as we felt ourselves 
 separated from by a wide chasm ; and notwithstanding, 
 we felt called upon to take their case seriously to 
 heart, and like the disciples in the Gospel, concernedly 
 inquire, "Lord, is it If' It may be that to-day one 
 and another of us will be forced to exclaim, " God help 
 me, for that case is just my own!" I am going to 
 speak to-day of that class of men who are too bad for 
 heaven, and too good for hell. According to our inten- 
 tion, as you will recollect, we have spoken first of the 
 enemies of Jesus; to-day we shall cast our glance upon 
 one who was too weak to be an enemy of Jesus, but 
 who was also too weak to be his friend : to-day we shall 
 contemplate Pilate. We shall see this day to what a 
 degree the human heart is capable of shalloivncss and 
 vanity, and this will be shown us in the case of Pilate. 
 Listen to that saying of the Gospel, which in a few 
 words completely describes the man, in John xviii. 38, 
 '' Pilate saith unto him, What is truth 9 And when 
 he had said this, he went out again unto the Jews."" 
 
 In order to learn from the example of Pilate to what 
 extent the human heart is capable of shallowness and 
 vanity, let us look into the heart of Pilate and there 
 see how vain a man becomes, who is too weak to believe 
 in truth, and at the same time too weak to deny it 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 63 
 
 altogether. We shall then consider his actions, in 
 order to see how, in the case of him to whom truth has 
 become an empty sound, justice and virtue also become 
 an idle name. 
 
 Pilate tvas too weak to believe in truth in divine 
 things. The time had arrived among the Roman 
 nation, which sooner or later must come upon every 
 people whose religion is not of the truth. All such 
 religions fall a prey to the weakness of old age. When 
 reason awakes and begins to put forth her power, the 
 infantile or savage views of religion are no longer able 
 to hold their ground, the upper classes throw aside 
 their belief, the lower classes become uncertain, while 
 the priests laugh to each other over the blind dupes of 
 their subtlety and craft. " ! what dreary times these 
 must be !" I think I hear you say. But are you aware 
 that there are people who tell us that the present is 
 such a time for our Christian faith ; and that, accord- 
 ing to them, its last hour has already struck ! Now 
 to maintain that the last hour of Christianity has 
 arrived, in times when the battle-cry of her warriors 
 resounds through every land, when numberless journals 
 are engaged in keeping the record of the campaigns, 
 the joys and sorrows of the Church; ay, and when the 
 messengers of the Gospel are sent forth in troops to 
 take possession of the countries of heathendom in the 
 name of the Head of that Church ; to maintain in days 
 such as these, that Christianity exists no more, and 
 Christ is dead, were folly indeed. And yet even were 
 it so, were Christ in his Church now dead — 0, surely 
 he would rise again ! He has already celebrated more 
 
64 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 than one resurrection in tlie course of history; and just 
 when people imagined they had buried him, behold, 
 he has risen in light, and given the world a new Easter- 
 morning to keep! Yes, in the little vessel of the 
 Church, Jesus may sleep, but he cannot die — he 
 abideth ever. 
 
 But of the religions of the two most refined nations 
 of antiquity, it is sure that at the time of the birth of 
 Christ, they had outlived themselves, and were already 
 paralyzed with age. And in this do we not recognize 
 how the finger of the clock of time pointed to the hour 
 when the old was passed away, and the period for 
 the new and perfect religion was at hand ? When the 
 stars in the spiritual firmament begin to fade, it is a 
 sign that morning is about to dawn, and that the Sun 
 of the world is about to rise. Now, at such a period 
 of decay in the religion of a people, we generally find 
 the minds of those who have forsaken the faith of 
 their fathers dividing into two classes. The one class 
 are those who, as they look with a sorrowful eye upon 
 the downfall of their national faith, do nevertheless 
 feel confident that although their religion be not the 
 true one, still there must undoubtedly be a Religion 
 of Truth for man. And so, amid the conflicts of 
 their storm-tossed heart, they strive, and search, and 
 labour, with such awful earnestness, that if Truth 
 were buried deep beneath the earth they would dig 
 her thence. Of such men there were not a few in 
 those days among the Roman people. History tells 
 us that they were beginning then to go over to the 
 Jewish sanctuaries in crowds — strong enough to set 
 
OF THE HEARTS OP MEN. 65 
 
 at defiance the scorn which their haughty fellow- 
 countrymen were wont, even then, to pour upon the 
 circumcised people of Israel. Mention is made in the 
 New Testament of some of those noble, truth-seeking 
 souls, as Cornelius and the centurion of Capernaum : 
 and strong believing spirits those must have been. 
 Was it not of the centurion of Capernaum that Jesus 
 said, ^'Verily I have not found so great faith, no, not 
 in Israel;" and do we not read of Cornelius, that his 
 prayers were carried by the angels before the throne 
 of mercy? Young men, who think you can offer no 
 resistance to unbelief in the faith of your fathers — if 
 such there be among you — consider, I beseech you, 
 Jiow those men of old broke with their religion: 
 namely, so that their heart was at the same time 
 broken too; consider further, that in ceasing to 
 believe they did not cease to inquire after truth; 
 that when they could no longer pray to the God of 
 their fathers, they at least stretched out their hands to 
 the Unknown God ! 
 
 But there was another class, and that undoubtedly 
 the most numerous, of those who had lost that sacred 
 thing, which should be linked with every fibre of the 
 human heart, the faith of their fathers, and who, not- 
 withstanding, lived on in the world careless and uncon- 
 cerned, as men who had parted with a worthless and 
 somewhat troublesome possession. This is the class 
 in which we must reckon Pilate. I do not deny that 
 when one hears him cry, "What is truth?" one's first 
 impression of him is somewhat higher than this. But 
 perhaps we feel thus only because his words recall to 
 
66 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 our mind the hours when we made use of the same 
 words to express the earnest longing of our soul. 
 Our cry, "What is truth?" was the utterance of the 
 deepest, the most awful questionings of our heart. I 
 think I hear those words sounding out into the silence 
 of night from many an oppressed, tempest-tossed, and 
 weary soul. Ah ! these are not empty words scattered 
 on the winds: no, they are burning prayers — and in 
 the vast night to which alone they seem to be 
 breathed, there are angels waiting to bear them, as 
 they bore the prayer of Cornelius, up to the throne of 
 mercy. And thus, when we hear Pilate ask, "What 
 is truth?" we are inclined to think well of him, to 
 think of him as an inquirer after truth. But was it, 
 indeed, in this sense he put the question ? — was it, in 
 fact, a question at all with him ? If so, why did he 
 turn away the very instant after putting it? Why 
 did he turn his back upon the very King of Truth 
 who stood before him, ready to answer it ? Truly, if 
 it had been a real question of a needy heart, we should 
 have to form a very different judgment of his char- 
 acter. But it was not a question, it was an expres- 
 sion of his own view in the matter, or at best such 
 an interrogation as he had already answered for him- 
 self, and answered in the negative. Yes, Pilate made 
 in these words a confession of his faith upon the sub- 
 ject of truth, and a dreary faith it is ! — that all the 
 religions which have ever existed upon earth have 
 been systems of falsehood — that every praying heart 
 has believed a lie — that the fire of devotion in the 
 suppliant eye has been but an ignis fatuus, only lead- 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 67 
 
 ing astray; ay, and that tlie Man who stood before 
 him, when he said, I am a King — the King of Truth 
 — uttered a lie ! 
 
 Pilate, if thou hadst ever before turned thy back 
 upon any one who would testify to thee of the land of 
 Truth, it might be forgiven thee. These knew only 
 by hearsay of that land, they had never sojourned 
 there — at most they had only been a little way over 
 its border. But when the king of that region stood 
 before thee, why didst thou, in the very moment when 
 he would testify to thee of the truth — say, why 
 didst thou then turn thy back upon him ? 
 
 That Pilate was too weak to believe in truth is 
 clearly enough implied in the words of our text. It 
 may, however, somewhat surprise you when I add, 
 that he was also too weak to deny truth altogether. 
 But I ask, is it possible for a man to rid him- 
 self entirely of all belief in the truth ? It is hardly 
 possible: for faith is the breath of life. And even 
 if a man entirely forsakes the truth, the truth does 
 not utterly abandon him, but still casts, ever and 
 anon, a faint glimmer of light across his soul. And 
 Pilate had not courage to deny it altogether ; this we 
 learn from the sacred narrative. Let me recall to you 
 that momentous interval which elapsed after Pilate, 
 himself convinced of the groundlessness of the charge 
 of the Jews against Jesus, had oflfered them a choice 
 between Jesus and Barabbas. Pilate sat there on his 
 throne. No sound was heard save the whisper and 
 murmur of priests, as they hurried to and fro, busy in 
 instilling murderous thoughts into the minds of the 
 
68 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 multitude, too easily seduced. Then it was in the 
 early morning, that a message came to Pilate from 
 his wife, which told of a dream she had had, in which 
 it was announced that the man that stood before that 
 judgment-seat was a righteous man, and one whose 
 fate the Deity held more dear than that of thousands. 
 After receiving that warning, the man who did not 
 believe in the truth was nevertheless more zealous in 
 his attempts to release Jesus. And now he hears 
 from the Jews that he had said that he was " the Son 
 of God:" then we read, "he was the more afraid." 
 For certain memories are beginning to rise up in 
 Pilate's heart, olden memories of his childhood, and the 
 idea awakes within him, with strange foreboding, that 
 this man may be one of the sons of the gods, of whom 
 ancient tradition tells, that they were wont sometimes 
 to descend and wander upon earth, taking up their 
 abode within the breast of some favoured mortals. 
 What ! can those old stories be true after all ? Can 
 it be that here is one of those sons of the gods? He 
 calls Jesus aside and asks, "Whence art thou?" It 
 cannot be his earthly home he here inquires about ; he 
 had already learned where that was ; but he expects 
 to receive some extraordinary, some mysterious reply. 
 But Jesus is silent. Pilate, wherefore didst thou turn 
 thy back upon the King of Truth when he would tes- 
 tify to thee of the land of truth ? Behold here thy 
 punishment ! Now when thou askest, the mouth of 
 truth is dumb before thee ! let no one, especially 
 let none of you young men, turn your back upon 
 divine truth, when she would speak to you ; otherwise, 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 69 
 
 believe me, she will be voiceless in that hour when, 
 upon your bended knees, you will earnestly entreat 
 one little word from her mouth. For Truth is a queen, 
 and no one can treat her with contempt and not suffer 
 for it some day. 
 
 " Speakest thou not unto me?" cries the astounded 
 judge ; "knowest thou not that I have power to crucify 
 thee, and have power to release thee?" Cease thy 
 impotent threatenings, thou vain man ! for before thee 
 stands One far greater than thou, and he points thee 
 to the Judge before whom thou too shalt one day lay 
 down thine account. With the majesty of a king sum- 
 moning a rebellious subject before the bar of judg- 
 ment, Jesus answers, " Thou couldest have no power 
 at all against me, except it were given thee from 
 above : therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath 
 the greater sin." "From thenceforth," we read, 
 "Pilate sought to release him." See you not here a 
 proof that truth does not altogether abandon a man, 
 even when he- has begun to forsake it ? And this man, 
 who is too weak altogether to deny the truth, and at 
 the same time too 'vyeak to believe in it and to love it 
 — what a mirror his character holds up to so many of 
 us! Do you not recognize in him a picture of your- 
 selves ? There are not many, even in our days, who 
 would venture to meet Chrisrianity with a decided 
 and deliberate negative. But how few respond to it 
 with a deep heartfelt affirmative, and endorse their 
 belief in it by a life of new obedience in conformity 
 with its requirements. Most people are content half 
 to affirm it and half deny, half to receive and half 
 7 
 
70 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 reject ; they reply to the invitations of the gospel with 
 a "Yes" and a "No" — and "I dare say it is all 
 true," or a "Well, I suppose I believe it all." But, 
 my friends, is that a faith to which a man would 
 sacrifice his life — would deny the world and conquer 
 the flesh ? no ! Our belief in the truth must be 
 deliberate, certain, decided, in order that it may 
 become a believing life ! If it is not so, if our faith 
 be an empty name, then will our actions be also vain ; 
 for if truth once become to us an idle dream, we shall 
 soon cease to have any faith in justice and in virtue. 
 
 Let us now direct our attention to the actions of 
 Pilate. 0, you need but tell me whether a man's 
 faith is strong or weak, and I will tell you whether his 
 works are strong or weak. He for whom belief in 
 eternal truth is only a vain sound, knows of no mo- 
 mentous import attaching to what he does, and there- 
 fore sees only vanity in his actions. For him right- 
 eousness and truth have become an empty name. 
 When solemn and eternal motives have ceased to regu- 
 late a man's conduct, those of merely temporal and 
 accidental bearing will take their place ; when the fear 
 of God is not the ruling principle of life, the fear of 
 man will become so; and then are all his actions 
 vanity indeed. doubt it not, that which gives 
 reality and worth to the works of a man, is his faith. 
 This I say also to those of you who think that the 
 worth of a man consists not in his faith, but in his 
 principles; you too practically acknowledge that a 
 man's worth is really in proportion to his faith. For 
 what are your principles ? Are they merely the max- 
 
OF THE HEARTS OP MEN. 71 
 
 ims of worldly prudence ? Such principles, I confess, 
 have nothing to do with faith. But if they are some- 
 thing higher than this — principles in the true sense of 
 the word, concerning which you are convinced that 
 they are eternally and unalterably true — then they 
 are based upon nothing else but faith. Look what 
 your principles rest on, is it not on faith? for do you 
 not believe in their eternal validity, do you not believe 
 that they hold good beyond and above all the maxims 
 of a mere worldly prudence ? Take any one of those 
 principles — take, for instance, the popular saying, 
 "Right is right, or "Honesty is the best policy." 
 Now you cannot see with your eyes, or touch with 
 your hands, that final result which will prove that your 
 honesty in this or that particular action will turn out 
 in the long run to have been the best policy ; no, you 
 act honestly, believing that the ultimate issue will 
 prove that your action was as politic as it was upright; 
 that issue you can see only with the eye of faith. 
 Kow, whoever has such principles — principles which 
 are higher far than any mere worldly maxims, of 
 which he knows that they are grounded and based in 
 an eternal order of things, that man has faith. He 
 may be blind enough to disown the source from which 
 it comes, he may keep repeating that it is principle 
 that makes him a man, and not faith, still in his prin- 
 ciple there is faith. Hence I say once more, that 
 which gives a man worth and character is his faith; 
 and he for whom faith in the truth is nothing but a 
 sound, can see no deep import in his conduct; hence 
 his actions will be vain. Do you wish to see an 
 
72 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 instance of this ? Then look here at the -man who 
 could ask, "What is truth?" with a tearless eye and 
 an unagitated heart: look, and observe how in his 
 case justice and virtue in action were also for him an 
 idle sound, when the hour of trial came ! ^ 
 
 Pilate, what a fate is now given into thy hand to 
 decide! He at whose feet mankind one day shall 
 bow, to receive from him the award of their eternal 
 fate — he is now in thy power, before thy judgment- 
 seat, and thou boldest the scales of justice over him ! 
 Pilate, thy hand may at other times have been uncer- 
 tain when it held those scales, but in that moment 
 there could have been no uncertainty in thy judg- 
 ment, if, truth had not long since become an empty 
 name for thee ! 
 
 It remains for me to show you, how the man who 
 had turned his back upon the truth, turned away also 
 from conscience and from justice when the greatest of 
 all human decisions was given into his hand. You 
 shall witness a 'scene, perhaps not altogether unfami- 
 liar to you, for it has probably been exhibited in your 
 own heart; you shall see a poor, hard-pressed human 
 being, struggling between his conscience on the one 
 side, which with might assails him, and summons him 
 to execute justice ; and the fear of man on the other 
 side, along with anxiety for his honour, his office, and 
 his property. You shall see the man who has turned 
 traitor to truth, in the first instance endeavour to set 
 himself free by cowardly conduct, and at last end by 
 betraying his own conscience and the cause of right- 
 eousness. 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 73 
 
 From the very first, Pilate had a strong conviction 
 of the innocence of the man whom the Jews had 
 brought before him that he might pronounce upon 
 him a sentence of condemnation; "he knew," as Mat- 
 thew informs us, "that for envy they had delivered 
 him." First, he had recourse to that expedient to 
 which men resort, who have no decided heart for 
 truth and justice: it is, perhaps, the most innocent 
 way, but at the same time it is cowardly enough. He 
 sought to roll off from his own conscience the burden 
 which was too heavy for it, upon the conscience of 
 others. So he sent Jesus, as a Galilean, to Herod An- 
 tipas, the king of Galilee, who, he learned, was then 
 in Jerusalem. It was in vain, Pilate, the battle is 
 destined for thee — thou must fight it out! So they 
 lead Jesus, arrayed in the purple robe, back from 
 Herod, and bring him a second time before the bar of 
 Pilate. Another resource presents itself. The blood- 
 thirsty mob must have death, but their law also re- 
 quires, that at the feast one be set free. The Procu- 
 rator accordingly proposes to them a choice between 
 Jesus and Barabbas. In that momentous interval, 
 when the people are making their choice, the dream 
 of his wife is told him, and throws a new light into 
 his conscience: — what a struggle may then have been 
 carrying on in his heart. But this new device is also 
 unavailing. The people cry, "Crucify him, crucify 
 him!" And now see how doubly he deals with his 
 conscience. He will at once still its threatening voice 
 and satisfy the blood-thirstiness of the mob. He 
 commands the bloody scourge to descend upon the 
 
74 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 back of the innocent One, of the King of Truth, and 
 then he leads him forth again, and asks the people 
 whether they are satisfied now? "Behold what a 
 Man!" But they see not what a Man. "Crucify 
 him, crucify him," they cry, "for he has made him- 
 self the Son of God." Once more Pilate examines 
 Jesus. His majestic silence, when asked, "Whence 
 art thou?" and the royal answer which follows, throw 
 a weight into the dubious scale which seems almost 
 decisively to weigh it down. But alas! "If thou let 
 this man go, thou art not Caesar's friend" falls on his 
 ear, and again the scale rises. He washes his hands 
 — had he but washed his heart ! — and pronounces the 
 verdict, "Guilty!" — See here what becomes of all 
 human virtue, of all human justice, in the hour of 
 trial, where there is no faith. Thus vain are the 
 actions of the man who has no faith. Hold as fine 
 discourses as you please about justice and nobility 
 and love, but the blessings which are seen will still be 
 stronger than the unseen, and temporal advantages 
 supply the place of virtue. No; it is only he who 
 has faith in unseen blessings, in an eternal inherit- 
 ance, which more than indemnifies for the loss of that 
 which is seen, which remains when it has passed 
 away ; he it is alone who can show true nobility, love, 
 and justice. 
 
 Brethren, to you I address myself, and I ask, are 
 there not some in this assembly who would burn with 
 anger if one were to question their morality, but who, 
 were their piety and faith to be denied, would hear the 
 charge unmoved, just as if it were nothing more than 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 75 
 
 if some one had denied them a talent for music or any 
 other accomplishment? But know you not, that in 
 admitting that your morality is without faith, you admit 
 that it is a plant without a root, which any whirlwind 
 of temptation may destroy, or ever you are aware. 
 You may see from the case of Pilate, how vain a 
 man's actions are when they are unaccompanied by 
 faith. And let me add one further circumstance con- 
 nected with him, which is not indeed recorded in the 
 Bible, but which we learn from history. Do you wish 
 to know how the man who had declared truth to be an 
 empty sound, died? I will tell you. Visited, so his- 
 tory tells us, with great and heavy misfortunes, he at 
 last died hy his own hand — like Judas ! Alas for 
 the man who knows of no blessings beyond those 
 which are seen! He believes that when these are 
 taken from him, all is gone, and life has no longer 
 any joys for him ! And who can tell but that the 
 memory of the hour, in which he had spoken the word 
 "guilty" upon Jesus, the Son of God, remained upon 
 his soul all his days, and, like a discordant note, 
 jarred through all his life? For as thoughtless as he 
 was, we see that some impression had been left upon 
 him. And, doubtless, in these misfortunes which 
 befell him, the solitary moments came, in which he 
 would say to himself, " There is something in truth 
 after all!" Perhaps he never altogether could succeed 
 in removing from before his eye the image of the un- 
 justly condemned King of Truth; perhaps it rose 
 before his soul in that last dark hour ! If it was so, 
 
76 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 there was more than an external resemblance between 
 his death and that of Judas. 
 
 Christians ! What shall the result of this study 
 of the character of Pilate be with regard to us? 
 Shall it be merely this, that we are struck with hor- 
 ror at the thought that he could turn his back upon 
 the King of Truth ? No, at ourselves also we must be 
 ashamed, at ourselves we must be confounded, we who 
 to this very day act as he acted, we who, like him, 
 ask, "What is truth?" and like him also, do not wait, 
 keenly and patiently, for an answer to the question. 
 How many are there who, with a deeply agitated 
 heart, make the inquiry, what is truth? How many 
 are there who, when they have addressed this question 
 to the Scriptures through which it is that the king of 
 truth now speaks, give themselves time to listen, hum- 
 bly and longingly, until they have heard the answer ? 
 Now and then a moment may be given to the thought, 
 but then the heart is away again at something else ; 
 and a thousand other questions come before us which 
 interest us much more. 
 
 Christians ! If hitherto we have turned our back 
 upon others who would testify to us of truth, or have 
 lent to their words an unwilling ear, it may be forgiven 
 us also. For these knew only by hearsay of that 
 land; they had never sojourned there, at best they 
 had been only a little way over its border: — but if 
 you turn your back upon the king of that land, that 
 sin remains ! 
 
 Lord, give us a willing ear and an impressible 
 heart when thou speakest to us, for we have believed 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 77 
 
 and known, that thou art Christ, the Son of the living 
 God, and that thou alone hast the words of eternal 
 life ! Amen. 
 
 SEEMON V. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUR^S PASSION MAKES MANIFEST IN 
 PETER TO WHAT AN EXTENT A HUMAN HEART MAT WAVER IN 
 ITS ATTACHMENT TO HIM IN WHOM IT HAS CONFESSEDLY FOUND 
 THE WORDS OF ETERNAL LIFE. 
 
 John vi. 67 — 69 : Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go 
 away? Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we 
 go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe, and are 
 sure, that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God. 
 
 Luke xxii. 60 — 62: And Peter said, Man, I know not what thou 
 sayest. And immediately, while he yet spake, the cock crew. 
 And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter : and Peter remem- 
 bered the word of the Lord, how he had said unto him, Before the 
 cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice. And Peter went out, and 
 wept bitterly. 
 
 Brethren in Christ: — The enemies of Jesus have 
 passed before us. After them the man who was too 
 weak to be an enemy of Jesus, and at the same time 
 too weak to be his friend, has been held up before our 
 view. This day we turn our glance upon the friends 
 of Jesus. You have witnessed in the case of Pilate, 
 to what a degree the human heart is capable of shal- 
 lowness and vanity, and have seen that he to whom 
 truth has become nothing more than an idle sound, 
 Boon comes also to regard righteousness and virtue as 
 
78 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 nothing but an empty name. To-day we shall see, to 
 what a degree the hearts even of those who can con- 
 fess, that Christ has the words of eternal life, may 
 waver in their attachment to him. As we contem- 
 plated the man who asked, "What is truth?" and, 
 immediately thereafter, turned away, our conscience 
 reproached us, and we were compelled to acknowledge 
 that we were like him, because there are so very few 
 among us who inquire after truth with an earnestness 
 which influences their whole life ; so few, who, with all 
 the intensity of which their nature is capable, search 
 the Scriptures through which the King of Truth 
 addresses us; so very few, who, after reverently ask- 
 ing the question, "What is truth?" reverently awaits 
 its answer. Ye superficial Bible-readers, one and all ! 
 ye who but seldom read, and lightly inquire, ye who 
 think but little and pray but rarely, can it be that ye 
 have heard the solemn lesson which the history of 
 Pilate teaches, and heard unmoved? surely, to- 
 day at least, the truth of God will come home to you, 
 for it is to you more especially I have this day to 
 preach, as I hold up before you the consequence of 
 a superficial Christianity like yours. We shall learn 
 from the case of Peter, to what an extent the human 
 heart may waver in its attachment to Jesus, even after 
 having confessed that He has the words of eternal 
 life. Listen to the two passages of Scripture which 
 show us this. 
 
 We read in John vi. 67 — 69 : " Then said Jesus 
 unto the twelve. Will ye also go away f Then Simon 
 Feter answered him. Lord, to whom shall we go? 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 79 
 
 Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we helieve, 
 and are sure, that thou art that Christ, the Son of 
 the liviny Grod^ And further, Luke xxii. 60 — 62: 
 ^^And Peter said, Man, I know not what thou say- 
 est. And immediately, while he yet spake, the cock 
 crew. And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter: 
 and Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he 
 had said unto him. Before the cock crow, thou shalt 
 deny me thrice. And Peter went out, and wept bit- 
 terly.'' 
 
 We learn from these verses how Peter stood, how he 
 fell, and how he raised himself again. Let us view 
 these in succession, and then we shall turn our eye 
 from Peter, and look at ourselves. For there are 
 doubtless some among us who, up to this time, have 
 been ready enough to "cast a stone" at Peter, not 
 stopping to ask themselves whether they were really 
 altogether without sin in this matter. Let me then 
 show that also in this respect we have, all of us, occa- 
 sion to put the question, "Lord, is it I?" And more 
 than this : it will probably appear the case of many of 
 us is worse even than that of Peter was, inasmuch as 
 we have fallen like Peter, but have not risen again as 
 he did. Thus we shall have to leave this sacred house 
 with the humbling conviction of how great a degree of 
 wavering in its attachment to Jesus may be exhibited 
 by a human heart, even after it has acknowledged 
 that He has the words of eternal life. And each of 
 us will say in the silence of his heart : Ah yes, good 
 cause hath "he that standeth to take heed, lest he 
 fall!" 
 
80 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 How Peter stood. Peter stood in sucli a relation 
 to Christ, that already, before he heard those words 
 of his which immediately precede our text, he had 
 spent many an hour with Jesus in which he had tasted 
 of eternity; and therefore it was he could cry, "Thou 
 hast the words of eternal life." We too experience 
 somewhat of such feelings as we read the Scriptures; 
 but the impression which the words of Jesus make on 
 us is naturally much feebler than with those who heard 
 him themselves. Hence we can with difficulty con- 
 ceive what an amount of ardent feeling might be put 
 into these words of Peter. Let me therefore dwell 
 upon this a little longer. The words of eternal life 
 which Jesus spoke, address us merely in the cold, stiff 
 letter, and we must first analyze them and take them 
 to pieces, ere we can become aware of the spirit and 
 life they contain. But when they flowed frc^ the 
 living lips of the incarnate Redeemer, then Verily 
 there must have been a strange moving in the air ; a 
 breath of life must have breathed about those words, 
 such as must have touched every impressible heart ! 
 We see even common minds affected by that breath 
 thus immediately felt, in a mysterious way, such as 
 reason in vain attempts to comprehend. We read, for 
 instance, of a certain woman in the crowd, who, as she 
 hears Jesus speak, cannot choose but cry with an un- 
 accountable enthusiasm, "Blessed is the womb that 
 bare thee, and the breasts which thou hast sucked!" 
 What do I then mean when I say that those had 
 greater privileges than we enjoy? I mean this: we 
 have the mere words, and not even them, as uttered 
 
OF .THE HEARTS OF MEN. 81 
 
 by the voice, but only, as it were, encoffined in the 
 black letters; while they had, besides the words, the 
 impression of the whole personality of Him who spoke 
 them. And what a Personality was that ! Other wise 
 men had taught, and their disciples had heard their 
 words of wisdom. But what essentially distinguished 
 Jesus from all these other teachers of truth is this, 
 that he not only discoursed of truth, but that he was 
 himself the Truth he spoke. When the wise men of 
 this world preach to us, so little are we in the habit of 
 taking for granted that their life is in unison with 
 their doctrine, that we hardly think it worth our while 
 to ask whether they are indeed the truth which they 
 proclaim. One of those wise men has even used the 
 remarkable expression, that a man might get rid of 
 his knowledge of the words of many of these teachers 
 of wisdom, by becoming acquainted with their persons 
 and their lives. 
 
 Now, it was the perfect harmony which subsisted 
 between the words and the character of Jesus, that 
 caused that unbounded confidence, and deep attach- 
 ment of souls to him, to which he refers so strikingly 
 in the parable of the Good Shepherd, where he says, 
 "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and 
 they follow me." Every word was a revelation of his 
 person, and therefore it was that every word had so 
 profound a significance, and sank so deep into the 
 hearts of those that heard him. And Peter was one 
 of those who knew the voice of Jesus in its deep, soul- 
 penetrating power; and therefore he united a cordial 
 reliance upon the words, with an entire confidence in 
 8 
 
82 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 tlie person, of Jesus. And tlius it was he would 
 exclaim, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living 
 God." He knew that he was the Son of God, because 
 he said he was ; and could the words of him in whose 
 discourse he had so often tasted of eternity, be words 
 of falsehood? In the case of this disciple, his self- 
 surrender to the Lord himself was ever closely united 
 with his reliance on his word. " Though all men 
 should be offended because of thee, yet will not I be 
 offended," cried Peter with an ardour worthy of his 
 love. Who can tell how great was the influence which 
 the character, and works and words together, exer- 
 cised imperceptibly upon the minds of the disciples ! 
 It must have been vastly greater than anything we 
 are in the habit of imagining, greater even than they 
 themselves were aware. Do we not see a proof of the 
 overpowering effect of this personal intercourse with 
 Jesus, in the case even of that disciple, whom we 
 designate the unbelieving Thomas? When, in pros- 
 pect of the last journey to Jerusalem, the disciples 
 were endeavouring to dissuade the Saviour from under-' 
 taking it, reminding him that he would thus expose 
 his life to imminent peril, Thomas exclaimed to his 
 fellow disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die 
 with him!" Yes, even that faint-hearted disciple 
 would rather lose his life than Jesus ? How strong, 
 then, must the band have been which this Jesus 
 entwined around the souls of men ! And when Tho- 
 mas had thrust his hand into his side, and when, 
 cured of his unbelief, he fell upon his knee before 
 him who is the resurrection and the life, he summed 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 83 
 
 up all his experience of the three years, and of these 
 last hours, in that memorable confession — in which, 
 indeed, is contained the substance of the Christian 
 faith — "My Lord and my God!" Now, must not the 
 antecedent impressions have been quite superhuman, 
 in order so to affect a heart that it could find utter- 
 ance only in words like these ? Do but realize the 
 immense gulf which in the eyes of the pious Israelite 
 lay between God in heaven and men upon the earth, 
 and you will feel that this exclamation of Thomas is 
 itself an evidence, that in the appearance of Jesus 
 Christ was beheld the glory of the only-begotten Son 
 of the Father. The saying of Thomas throws also 
 some light upon the feelings with which Peter must 
 have uttered the words of our text. From them we 
 are better able to perceive what an amount of fervour 
 and intensity of feeling that confession of his implies. 
 This, then, was the relation in which Peter stood to 
 the Lord. 
 
 How Peter fell. As they lead away his Master, 
 all the others flee, but Peter follows, drawn by love. 
 John, who is known in the high-priest's house, enters 
 with the rest, and the door is shut. Love still keeps 
 Peter waiting without the door, he cannot turn away 
 from the spot where he has seen the last traces of his 
 Lord. Is it not a touching spectacle that this disci- 
 ple presents, as he stands waiting there without, now 
 that the company has gone in, and the door is closed 
 upon him ? See him standing there in his perplexity, 
 full of melancholy thoughts and sad forebodings. It 
 must have been this consideration that moved John to 
 
84 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 open the door to him and admit him to the palace. 
 And it could be no ordinary impulse of love that 
 urged him to enter there. What danger did he not 
 incur in such a place and at such a time ! The peo- 
 ple were together there, who, but a little before, had 
 seen him in the garden; Malchus was there too, 
 against whom he had drawn his sword : should they 
 take vengeance upon him, what fate will he have to 
 expect ? — that of certain death. Their attention is now 
 directed to the stranger in that unusual place, at that 
 unusual hour. One question after another presses 
 hard upon his alarmed spirit; and the man who, but 
 the evening before, when Jesus said, "If I wash thee 
 not, thou hast no part in me," had shuddered at the 
 thought, now breaks out, with cursing, in the fatal 
 words, ''I hnoiv not the man.''' Alas for the weak- 
 ness of human nature ! Peter, if he had been so 
 dear to thee, that for his sake thou hadst been willing 
 to sacrifice thy honour and thy life ; how couldst thou, 
 then, in that hour have disowned him? how couldst 
 thou have denied what was doubtless even then to thee 
 the highest blessing and most treasured thought in 
 life — how couldst thou have denied that thou didst 
 know thy Saviour? At that moment, we read, the 
 cock crew. The crowing of the cock calls the slum- 
 bering conscience to awake. Yet not the crowing of 
 the cock, but the words of Jesus, that "before the 
 cock crows, thou shalt deny me thrice," resounded 
 through his soul. Who has not made the terrible 
 experience, that when once after a fall conscience 
 awakes again, a thousand forgotten voices of God 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 85 
 
 wake up along with it, and cry out in accusation 
 against the terror-stricken soul? 
 
 How Peter raised himself again, "And the Lord 
 turned and looked upon Peter. And Peter went out 
 and wept bitterly." At that very moment, as the 
 crowing of the cock resounds, the condemned Jesus 
 advances from the interior of the palace towards the 
 outer porch. Not a word falls from the Lord, only a 
 single look, but it is enough ; and in a moment before 
 the disciple's soul flashes his sin in all its horror. 
 Doubtless this quick understanding on the part of 
 Peter, is a testimony to the deep-reaching character 
 of the tie which bound his heart to that of the Saviour. 
 Peter ! say, what didst thou read in that look ? was it 
 the sentence of thy condemnation ? ! it could not 
 have been that alone, for Peter could still weep. 
 Peter could weep — ! had Judas only had such tears 
 to shed ! He wept bitterly, we read in Mark, and he 
 went out. 
 
 He sought retirement. In this how truly his heart 
 guided him ! It is only in solitude that a man can 
 come to himself again after a fall like his. His tears 
 flow, and his heart is wrung with penitence and 
 shame, and yet he feels as if, notwithstanding all, he 
 could still say, "Lord, thou knowest that I love thee!" 
 and feeling this, he is in a position to give the right 
 interpretation to the look of his Master. "Yes, I 
 see its meaning now : ' I know not the man' was what 
 I said of him. Ah ! what would it have been if in 
 return he had said the same to me ! But no, that 
 was not what that look of his expressed. There was 
 8* 
 
86 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 surely too mucli of tenderness mingled wltli its stern 
 rebuke for that. Did it not appear to say, ' Thou dost 
 know me after all, and because thou knowest me, I 
 forgive thee ! ' " And indeed, how could he ever have 
 ventured into his Maker's presence again, if he had 
 not first procured forgiveness of his sin. But he had ; 
 for in that season of retirement the tears of penitence 
 had cleansed his soul, and so he could venture to join 
 again the company of his fellow disciples. Judas fled, 
 but Peter we find beneath the cross, beside the grave 
 of the risen One, and then by his side once more. 
 True, a fall like this cannot pass away without leaving 
 some trace behind in the memory of the true-hearted 
 man. 0, I doubt not that it was with deep humility 
 and shame that Peter showed himself again among 
 his brethren. We are warranted in assuming that he 
 felt himself as good as deposed from his apostolic 
 office — but at the same time surely not from the love 
 of Jesus. We are warranted in believing this from 
 the fact, that Jesus should have found it necessary 
 solemnly to reinstate him in that office, and, in pre- 
 sence of all the others, to restore to him, as it were, a 
 good conscience. Three times he had denied him, 
 and three times must the question pierce his soul, 
 *' Simon, lovest thou me?" And three times the com- 
 mand is given, "Feed my sheep!" And thus can 
 even an inconstant, faithless follower of Jesus, who 
 comes to repentance, and, after his fall rises again, 
 be restored to all the divine offices and rights which 
 he had forfeited by his sin. 
 
 But is it not surprising to what a degree a human 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 87 
 
 heart may prove unfaitliful, yes, even one which has 
 already mightily experienced the power of Jesus* 
 words ! 
 
 Is there any one here who would cast a stone against 
 the fallen disciple, and not against himself? Truly it 
 may be thought marvellous enough that such should 
 be the characters of the men who have come to occupy 
 high places in the kingdom of God? — there we find a 
 David, a crucified thief, a Peter, a Magdalene. But 
 let none dare to blaspheme against the counsel of 
 eternal mercy! I much fear, that if the door by 
 which these entered heaven were shut, we should 
 have to remain outside. I greatly fear that there are 
 many of us who daily fall like Peter, without rising 
 like him. Doubtless if truth had been a holier thing 
 in his eyes, Peter would not have hesitated a single 
 moment to risk his life for its sake. But I ask, how 
 sacred is truth in our eyes ? Jeremiah cried in his 
 time, "My people shooteth lies with their tongue, it 
 is altogether full of deceit;" would not the aged pro- 
 phet have to repeat the cry, were he now to appear 
 upon our streets, or in our courts of justice, or in our 
 social assemblages. I do not now inquire concerning 
 the sincerity with which men act, I speak at present 
 merely of the sincerity of the truthfulness of their 
 resolution, and I ask, how many Christians are there 
 even in this assembly, whose firm and resolute deter- 
 mination it is, nowise and in no case whatever, to 
 make a sacrifice of truth, and rather to risk the loss 
 of fortune, honour, life itself, than utter an untruth ? 
 How many are there who, with resolute hearts and 
 
88 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 firm persuasion, can make this saying their own: 
 "Should the whole universe, with all its millions of 
 creatures, hang by one thread of falsehood, and I 
 knew the word of truth that could cut that thread, I 
 would say it!" Rare, indeed, are such sincere and 
 conscientious lovers of truth. On the other hand, 
 those mean spirits are numbered by thousands and 
 tens of thousands, who, although they might blush to 
 confess it, still, were the truth known, have secretly 
 come to an understanding with themselves, that false- 
 hood is justifiable in every case where truth would 
 bring harm ; aye, even where it is thought that truth 
 would be less advantageous, or less agreeable for peo- 
 ple to hear. Do not our tradesmen make use of a lie 
 to excuse themselves for a neglect of duty, without a 
 blush, just as if it were a matter of course ? Does not 
 the man of the world avail himself of falsehood as one 
 of the many clever and commendable ways of making 
 himself agreeable? And would I had not to bring 
 with bitter grief this very charge against you young 
 men: and yet surely nothing less becomes your age 
 than cowardice, and what is falsehood if it be not most 
 pitiable cowardice? And yet has not falsehood be- 
 come even among you in certain cases the rule ! Ye 
 who know how to appreciate the charge of cowardice, 
 will ye not be ashamed of the cowardice that is implied 
 in telling a falsehood? triple curse of lying, 
 that it should bring dissimulation even among those, 
 the glory and jewel of whose age is to be found in 
 their integrity and veracity ! And let not him who 
 has once begun to withhold from sovereign truth her 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 89 
 
 inalienable rights in some things, let him not imagine 
 that he will be able to preserve those rights inviolate 
 in others. The proverb says, 'he who has once lied 
 is never believed again;' and another, that to one 
 lie there belong seven more. If you have but in a 
 few places broken down the fence that surrounds this 
 sacred temple, you are safe no longer from any temp- 
 tation. And this lying generation would look down 
 with pity and scorn upon Peter ! And you who weakly 
 vacillate between truth and falsehood, as often as the 
 truth would make you a few guineas poorer, or rob 
 you of the favour of a vain mortal, you would cast a 
 stone at Peter, the disciple who at least had courage 
 to follow his Master at the imminent danger of his 
 life! 
 
 Undoubtedly it is true that Peter did not sin merely 
 against truth in general; he lied against that truth 
 which was to him the most sacred of all, his relation 
 to Christ; hence his guilt is not one-fold, but a hun- 
 dred-fold. But will this consideration exculpate us? 
 How many of us, then, are so certain of their strength 
 as to be able confidently to say that under no possible 
 circumstances they would prove treacherous to that 
 which they regard as religious truth ? In a time when 
 there are so many Pilates, I much fear the number of 
 martyrs would not be great. Were the days of bloody 
 persecution for religion to return, were the Romish 
 Church again to erect her scaffolds and light her 
 stakes, were the days to come in which the fanaticism 
 of infidelity like that which deluged France with 
 blood, should leap upon our shore and brandish the 
 
90 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 sword over the heads of the faithful, how many of us 
 feel confident that in such times they would not deny 
 their relation to Christ, but that, in the words of 
 Christ, they would hate their life for his sake, in order 
 to find it again in life eternal ? What ! we would do 
 that — we who even now deny our relation to Christ 
 that we may escape the jest of a scofi'er, or the loss of 
 some worldly advantage ! We would be in a condi- 
 tion to give up our lives for his sake — we who, in 
 order to save ourselves from the epithets with which 
 they brand the followers of Christ — in order that peo- 
 ple may not call us Methodists or Pietists, sacrifice so 
 much of boldness in our confession, of practical carry- 
 ing out of it in our daily walk and conversation, so 
 as to make sure first of enjoying undisturbed repose, 
 and an unmolested life ? surely the man who has 
 not acquired sufficient strength to endure in obedience 
 to His command even a little scorn and contumely, 
 for his Saviour's sake, surely he who has not yet 
 learned, in his own experience, what is meant by those 
 words of Peter, " Blessed are ye when ye are reproached 
 for the name of Christ, for the spirit of glory resteth 
 upon you" — may well doubt whether he would in the 
 hour of trial be ready to part with his life for the sake 
 of his God. And it is we who would denounce the 
 apostasy of Peter, and forget ourselves ! 
 
 Brethren, if there is any charge of universal appli- 
 cation, this charge of falsehood is such. There is not 
 so much as one here present who is not guilty in this 
 particular, not one who has not cause to smite upon 
 his breast and say, " God be merciful to me a sinner !" 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MENI 91 
 
 Yes, if we only would utter that cry ! For all our 
 cowardly falsehoods, all the denials of Christ of which 
 we are guilty, shall be forgiven us, as they were for- 
 given to Peter, if only after every falsehood and every 
 fall, we raise ourselves again like him. But do we 
 really feel our sin in this matter? Do we take deeply 
 to heart the untruthfulness of our life, our cowardli- 
 ness, our denial of our faith both by speech and by 
 silence ? Does it bring the blush to our cheek and the 
 tear to our eye to be caught in an untruth ? And when 
 the eye of conscience looks upon us, as the eye of 
 Jesus looked upon the fallen disciple, do we start, 
 does our heart misgive us, and fill our eyes with tears 
 of penitence ? Or do we turn aside our eye, in order 
 that we may not meet its glance, and undisturbed go 
 on our way? After every such unfaithfulness do we 
 seek retirement, that we may settle our account with 
 God as Peter did ? Or, do we return to our com- 
 panions with conscience unreconciled, and talk with 
 them until we have succeeded in dispersing the cloud, 
 and until the angry voice of conscience is silenced or 
 forgotten? Alas, that we should be so ready to note 
 and comment upon the fall of a David and a Peter, 
 and make so little of their penitence? Doubtless 
 there are many among us who daily fall like Peter, 
 but who do not daily raise themselves like Peter. 
 Therefore cast not a stone, say not a reproaching 
 word against him, but rather against yourselves, against 
 yourselves many of whom have cried with Peter, 
 "Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words 
 of eternal life!" Yes, let us see in Peter to what a 
 
92 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 degree the heart even of one who has known Christ 
 may waver in its attachment to him. 
 
 Who shall dare to judge another 
 
 When he falls to sin a prey, 
 Or exulting view a brother 
 
 Falter on life's rugged way? 
 
 Look in sorrow, not in anger — 
 
 Let his fall our pity wake ; 
 Trembling let us feel our danger, 
 
 Let us timely warning take. 
 
 thou God of holiness, seeing that the weakness of 
 our poor human heart is so great, deal thou with us 
 not according to thy justice, but according to thy 
 mercy ! And since amid the constant faltering and 
 falling of men, no sacrifice is more well-pleasing to 
 thee than a broken heart and the tears of penitence, 
 0, may thy Holy Spirit chasten us at every fall, at 
 every denial of thy name — so that, if we fall like 
 Peter, we may also rise like him. Lord! thou 
 knowest that we love thee : then do thou, when we for- 
 sake thee, restore us again to the privileges of thy 
 children, and when we return, do thou receive us, 
 Lord ! Amen. 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 93 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE SAVIOUR's DEATH AND RESURRECTION 
 MAKES MANIFEST IN MARY, THE MOTHER OF OUR LORD, TO WHAT 
 A HUMAN HEART MAY BECOME UNDER THE TRAINING AND DIS- 
 CIPLINE OF GOD. 
 
 Luke ii. 34, 35. — And Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary 
 his mother, Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of 
 many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against; 
 (yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also,) that the 
 thoughts of many hearts may be revealed. 
 
 Beloved in the Lord ! We have seen the truth of that 
 saying of Simeon which we placed at the head of our 
 present series of meditations, proved in repeated 
 instances. We have indeed witnessed a "revelation of 
 the thoughts of many hearts" beneath the cross of 
 Christ — a revelation such as may well make our own 
 heart tremble. But I then promised you, that it 
 would not be dark abysses of the human heart alone, 
 which would open before our view, and from the his- 
 tory of our Saviour's passion we were also to learn 
 what a human heart may become under the training 
 of God. 
 
 The time of our Lord's sufferings and resurrection 
 was peculiarly a time of spiritual discipline. There 
 are certain epochs in human life, in which a man is 
 all at once unexpectedly led by the Spirit of God a 
 great way further on in his journey, so that he is him- 
 self surprised at it, when he afterwards looks back 
 upon the r^d. Such epochs in a life-time are, gene- 
 rally, periods of affliction. It is only those hearts 
 9 
 
94 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 across whicli tlie plouglisliare of God has passed in 
 "which the seed of life deeply falls and quickly grows. 
 Now the week of our Saviour's passion was for the 
 disciples, preeminently a time in which the plough of 
 God went over them. And that period along with the 
 Resurrection, was for them also a time in which they 
 were, all at once, advanced further upon their way 
 than they had been throughout the whole of their pre- 
 vious life. To this our Lord himself refers, when he 
 compares the circumstances of the disciples at that 
 time to those of a woman in travail, "who when her 
 hour is come, has sorrow," but, he adds, " as soon as 
 she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more 
 the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the 
 world." The man to be born was the new man of the 
 apostles and all the followers of the Lord, which was 
 born out of that season of affliction. Doubtless many 
 a precious seed had fallen into their soul during the 
 period of their intercourse with the Saviour, but till 
 then it had not sunk deep enough into the soil of the 
 heart. Now, however, the ploughshare passed over 
 them, the seed sank deep, and when on the day of 
 Pentecost the rain of God came down to water it, lo 1 
 all at once the fair stalk of corn shot forth. This is 
 true of all the followers of Christ who were at that 
 time in Jerusalem. I have already spoken of Nico- 
 demus in this connection: and what I said of him is 
 true also of Peter, Thomas, John, Mary the mother 
 of our Lord, and all the rest. Let me illustrate what 
 holds good of them all by the example of two of them, 
 of Mary the mother of our Lord, and Thomas. You 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 95 
 
 recollect that it was with special reference to Mary 
 that the saying which we have placed at the head of 
 this series of meditations was uttered — the saying of 
 Simeon that spoke of the revelation of the hearts 
 beneath the cross of Christ. Let us then take once 
 more for our text the words of the aged prophet: 
 ''And Swieon blessed them, and said unto Mary Ms 
 mother, Behold, this child is set for the fall and 
 rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which 
 shall he spoken against; {yea, a sword shall pierce 
 through thy own soul also,) that the thoughts of many 
 hearts may he revealed.'" Luke ii. 34, 35. 
 
 The sword, which pierced the heart of the mother 
 of the Lord, severed the earthly from the heavenly in 
 her faith and in her love. 
 
 And thus it is, that we see revealed beneath the 
 cross, in the case of the mother of our Lord, what, 
 under the training of God, a pious human heart may 
 become. In order to recognize this more clearly, we 
 must go back to the very beginning of her spiritual 
 training. Then we shall see that the fatal sword, of 
 which the old man spoke, had begun to pierce her soul 
 already, long before the passion-week. We shall con- 
 template the mother of the Lord as hoping, as wait- 
 ing, as looking, as tried, and as purified. 
 
 The mother of the Lord as hoping. What she 
 hoped for was, that the Word would become flesh, and 
 that He whom the heaven of heavens could not contain 
 would lie upon the bosom of an earthly mother. And 
 as God never exalts any one who does not first humble 
 himself, so it happened in this case also. The virgin 
 
yb THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 who was chosen, was one who, in her humility, could 
 make no other answer to the heavenly message but 
 this: "He hath regarded the low estate of his hand- 
 maiden." But it is not the sublime aspect of this 
 virgin humility, it is not the nobility and purity of her 
 mind that we contemplate this day. We have rather 
 to turn our attention to what constituted her hopes: 
 " Thou shalt bring forth a son, to whom the Lord shall 
 give the throne of his father David, and he shall reign 
 over the house of Jacob for ever." Such was the 
 Divine promise. "That can be none other but the 
 Messias," she would say to herself, and along with the 
 thought all the promises and hopes of the Israel of 
 God would rise in a moment before the soul of that 
 pious handmaiden of the Lord. Doubtless she was a 
 member of that little company who waited for the 
 consolation of Israel, to which Simeon, and Anna, 
 and the shepherds of Bethlehem belonged. She well 
 knew the promises of God to his people. And so her 
 eye would now run along the chain of prophetic utter- 
 ances, up to that first scene in Eden. And all the 
 great names, which prophecy had applied to the De- 
 sired of nations, would come with a new rapture before 
 her soul : the seed of the woman, who should bruise 
 the head of the serpent; the seed of Abraham, in 
 whom all the nations of the earth should be blessed ; 
 the offspring of the tribe of Judah, unto which the 
 Gentiles should seek ; the Son of David, whose throne 
 endureth as long as the sun endures. Who then can 
 wonder if her high and holy exultation breaks forth in 
 the words, "From henceforth all generations shall call 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 9T 
 
 me blessed, for — He tliat is mighty liath done to me 
 great things." But prophecy had spoken of the 
 future in a multiplicity of different figures, which 
 embraced not only what Christ was in his humiliation, 
 but also what Christ should be throughout the whole 
 history of his Church, and what he shall be in his 
 glory at the end of all things. For all this was com- 
 prehended in the vision of futurity which opened up 
 before the prophets, and was expressed in figures, 
 borrowed from that time. Accordingly the expecta- 
 tions of the Messias among the people were very 
 diverse. Whatever peculiar wish and longing filled a 
 heart was linked on to the appearance of Him, whom 
 they had significantly called the consolation of Israel ; 
 but among those various hopes there were some of the 
 meanest and some of the most exalted character. 
 
 And here I would make a remark. We hear many 
 talk with contempt of the impure, carnal hopes which 
 Israel indulged regarding the Messiah. But, I ask, 
 are the hopes with which many Christians cast their 
 eye into eternity so much more elevated? Surely your 
 hope for heaven in eternity is to be found in your hope 
 of a heaven in time. Is there not much of earthly 
 dross, thoughts of mere earthly pleasures mingled with 
 even your highest and best hopes of heaven ; and will 
 it not fare with the carnal expectations which many a 
 Christian entertains concerning the kingdom of God, 
 as at the appearance of Jesus it fared with the false 
 dreams of many a Jew concerning a Messianic king- 
 dom upon earth? 
 
 Say, blessed mother! in what colours didst thou 
 9'*' 
 
98 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 picture to thyself the kingdom of thy Son? Didst 
 thou conjure up before thee a heavenly Jerusalem, 
 with golden streets and pearly gates, through which 
 the might of the Gentiles and their kings should be 
 brought in; and hast thou figured to thyself the 
 throne of thy Son and of thyself as more glorious 
 than that of Bathsheba in the days of king Solomon ? 
 Beloved, I think that, from what is recorded of that 
 noble woman, we may draw the inference, that she did 
 not form to herself a picture of the future at all. No ; 
 that humble spirit felt too deeply that she could not 
 trust herself to attempt to realize the glory of the Son, 
 without incurring the danger of dwelling on the pros- 
 pect of the reflection of that glory which would fall on 
 the mother. No; Mary did not conjure up scenes of 
 future pomp and glory : but Mary prayed. She did 
 not feast her fancy with visions of coming splendour ; 
 no, she only gave thanks to God. She is the servant 
 of the Lord, who, when the message of the angel is 
 announced to her, buries all other thoughts, and ques- 
 tions, and imaginations in that one sublime utterance, 
 ^'Behold the handmaid of the Lord; he it unto me 
 according to thy word.'' In her noble soul all other 
 thoughts were united in this thought : He is Jesus, that 
 is, the Help of G-od. For the Help of God, for that 
 precious name of Jesus, she gave thanks. If we are 
 right in assuming that this was her character — and 
 the intimations of the sacred narrative would seem to 
 warrant us in so doing — then surely the Virgin Mary 
 is a heroine; for it is an easier task to conquer a 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 99 
 
 Goliatli upon the battle-field than it is to curb the 
 vagaries of an idle fancy. 
 
 As waiting. The star of Jacob has appeared. He, 
 to whom the Gentiles shall seek, is born in the inn at 
 Bethlehem. Before every new-born child one stands 
 with reverence, I might almost say, and at the same 
 time with an anxious presentiment. It is as though 
 one were looking at the tiny, softly bubbling spring 
 from which the little brook flows, and one cannot tell 
 whether that brook may not become a mighty stream, 
 which shall overflow the world. With what feelings, 
 then, must those have stood around the child Jesus, 
 who knew that that little rill of Shiloh was destined 
 one day to inundate the whole world, and to bring all 
 the waters of the earth into its mighty bed ! With 
 what feelings must the mother have stood there, who 
 knew all this, and yet could say. It is my child! 
 Parents, you should regard each of your children as a 
 pledge of the grace of God. If we may say this of 
 every morsel of bread we eat, of every ray of sunshine 
 that falls on our path, 0, how much more may we say 
 it of the noble, the god-like gift of a child ! Blessed 
 then, above all human creatures, blessed the mother 
 who received that child as a pledge of grace ! For as 
 such Mary received it, as a pledge and a seal that 
 God was her Saviour. For that she thus received it, 
 her song of thanksgiving proves: "My spirit hath 
 rejoiced in God my Saviour." Yes, Mary, thou hadst 
 a good right thus to sing, for to what mother in Israel 
 did God come so near in grace as he came to thee ! 
 
 And now consider, what a time for the heart of the 
 
100 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 waiting mother, the period of his education up to the 
 day of his public manifestation to Israel must have 
 been! Might she not from the first expect, that 
 Heaven would shower down wondrous and unusual 
 blessings upon this child? What a time of waiting 
 that must have been? Will a Son, who has no other 
 father but his heavenly Father, will such a Son ever 
 be born? this was her first anxiety. Will he grow 
 and expand amid all the dangers of childhood like the 
 other children of Adam? Will not angels come and 
 strew palms in his way as he walks ? Will the kings 
 of the earth not hasten to lay down their sceptres 
 before the child ? Will not the whole earth shout for 
 joy when the divine babe first opens his eye upon the 
 light of the world? happy thou, modest mother, 
 in that thou didst not indulge in such idle fancies ; 
 for thus, at least, wast thou deceived in none of thy 
 dreams. For behold, when the royal child is born, 
 the straw of the manger is his cradle ; and throughout 
 the wide dark night the world is dumb. But no, all 
 is not mute in the regions of the night. If the earth 
 is silent, the heavens will speak : and from the firma- 
 ment a song of praise is heard 
 
 "Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 
 As from blessed voices uttering joy." 
 
 Earth echoed back the gladsome sound, for never had 
 she heard such melody since the morning of creation, 
 when the stars sang together, and the sons of God 
 shouted for joy. And a star of heaven left its azure 
 way to guide the wise men of the East to the place 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 101 
 
 where the infant Saviour lay. But all this was only 
 the passing train of his celestial glory. For the Word 
 has become flesh, and is now lower than the angels, 
 and even in the cradle he is despised and rejected of 
 men. Already round the manger rages the fury of 
 Herod: and scarcely is he born when already the 
 child must flee! And thus from the very first the 
 mother of the Lord had to wait, and to believe what 
 she could not see. And what a trial of her faith, 
 during those thirty years, in which, like a seed in the 
 bosom of the earth, the glory of the only-begotten of 
 the Father was veiled in obscurity. Thirty long years 
 went by, and nothing occurred. Canst thou still 
 wait and still believe, Mary? John the Baptist, 
 when in his prison preparing for death, could, even at 
 a time when the glory of the Son of God was beginning 
 to unfold itself, send with carnal impatience to inquire, 
 *'Art thou He that should come, or shall we look for 
 another?" And Mary, who knew more than John 
 did, could wait all the thirty years, without uncer- 
 tainty, without misgiving. I wonder if a gentle ques- 
 tion would never rise to her lips ? Surely she must 
 have asked, if not by words, at all events with her 
 maternal eye. But possibly what the Saviour after- 
 wards said, "Woman, mine hour is not yet come," he 
 may have had occasion to say before. And doubtless 
 that virgin soul would not need any other answer to 
 make her content to wait, in patience and — in faith ! 
 
 As looking. The time is at length fulfilled. Jesus 
 is baptized in the Jordan, in order that he may be 
 manifested unto Israel. On his return, he meets his 
 
102 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 mother at a mariage festivity in Cana of Galilee. 
 Now that he has been consecrated to the Messiahship, 
 she thinks the time must have come at last, and so 
 with all the modesty of a heart which in her Son sees 
 her King and Lord, she summons him to action with 
 the words, "They have no wine." We thought our- 
 selves warranted in assuming that this mother had a 
 deep and correct understanding of her Son, even 
 though it may have been more a feeling than anything 
 else. But is not this idea of ours contradicted by the 
 request she now makes? What! shall the glory of 
 God be revealed at a marriage ? in a miracle of luxury 
 and convivial superfluity? Thus many a one has 
 doubtless asked. But, my friends, is it likely that 
 the family with which the pious Mary stood on terms 
 of friendship, could have been addicted to excess and 
 dissipation ? Can the family, which even on such an 
 occasion was not in circumstances to furnish sufficient 
 wine for their guests, have indulged in a superfluity 
 of hospitality ? No ; they were poor and pious people, 
 I make no question, just 4ike Mary herself; and the 
 mother well surmises what is in the purpose of her 
 Divine Son when, with a view to rejoice the heart of 
 such a household on the occasion of that family fes- 
 tival, she asks him to perform a work of love. Had 
 it been otherwise, would he have granted what was 
 requested, in such a superabundant measure? And 
 thus was the glory of the only-begotten Son of the 
 Father manifested for the first time in the circle of 
 his disciples. 
 
 And now came the days in which the blind should 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 103 
 
 see and the deaf hear, and the dead be raised up 
 again; when the heavens opened and the angels of 
 God descended and ascended upon the Son of man. 
 And what were the emotions which now filled that 
 mother's heart? Think you they were only feelings 
 of jubilee and triumph? no! Even in this time of 
 looking, there were, I think, for that maternal heart, 
 amid many occasions of calm joy, also times of sorrow 
 for the present, and of still darker presentiment for the 
 future. Must she not have seen with her own eyes 
 the contradiction of sinners against him ? But why 
 do I speak of the opposition of his people ? — do we not 
 read that even his own brothers and kinsmen did not 
 believe in him ? that poor tender mother's heart, 
 which even among her own children and immediate 
 connections can find no heart by which it is under- 
 stood, into which it may pour its sorrow, and with 
 which it may share its calm and holy joy ! And what 
 must she not have feared from the future ! The aged 
 Simeon had turned to her when he said, " This child 
 is set for a sign, which shall be spoken against, and a 
 sword shall pierce through thine own soul also." And 
 we read immediately after, that " Mary kept all these 
 sayings in her heart." Ah yes, a mother's heart does 
 not soon forget sayings like that. When at the word 
 of his mouth, the blind saw, and the dead came out of 
 their graves, when sinners who had found mercy fell 
 upon their knees before him, and the children cried 
 Hosanna ! — doubtless her heart shouted for joy — but 
 all the while the eye of her soul saw the sword hang- 
 ing over his head, and over her own ! Therefore if 
 
104 THE CKOSS A REVEALER 
 
 she rejoiced it could only be with trembling. The 
 time of looking was thus also a time of proving for 
 her, days of constant conflict between hope and fear. 
 The sword had already begun to pierce her soul. 
 Already had the separation in her faith, between what 
 was earthly in it and what was heavenly, begun : and 
 the final sorrow was to perfect that. 
 
 As tried. Mary does not often come before us 
 during the period of our Lord's active life — alas ! he 
 is hers no longer, then; he belongs to the world! 
 "Who is my mother? and who are my brothers? He 
 that doeth the will of my Father in heaven" — that 
 word she must from that time learn to understand, 
 and that word also has its work to do in her soul, 
 piercing into soul and body, joints and marrow. She 
 appears but seldom in his company from the period of 
 the commencement of his ministry ; but when the Son 
 of God went up for the last time to Jerusalem, to that 
 altar of sacrifice where so many prophets of the Most 
 High had shed their blood, there to fulfil the counsel 
 which God had appointed, the mother cannot have 
 been absent then. And so we find her at the last 
 Easter feast in Jerusalem : we had almost lost sight 
 of her in the course of the previous history, but she 
 appears again beneath his cross. Yes, there she stood 
 through those six weary hours, from the third hour to 
 the ninth, there she stood gazing upon that counte- 
 nance "full of wounds and blood, full of scorn and 
 pain," and upon the beloved head with its thorny 
 crown. She saw that head surrounded with the light 
 of Heaven's majesty, when he said to the dying thief, 
 
OP THE HEARTS OF MEN. 105 
 
 " This day slialt tliou be with me in paradise." She 
 saw it in the darkness and gloom of death, when he 
 cried, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
 me!" There she stood when, at the sixth hour, dark- 
 ness enwrapped the cross, and nature put on her robe 
 of mourning because the Lord of nature was dying. 
 There she still was, as even in the midst of the death- 
 struggle he turned his eye upon her and said, " Woman, 
 behold thy son!" There she stood when he bowed 
 his sorrow-laden head and cried, "Father, into thy 
 hands I commend my spirit !" 
 
 Can we contemplate this touching scene without 
 feelings similar to those which moved the ancient 
 singer to exclaim : 
 
 See her standing by the cross 
 
 In her untold grief so lone, 
 Ah! she weeps the double loss 
 
 Of a Saviour and a Son ! 
 Who her weary woe can see 
 And not weep in sympathy? 
 
 Mary ! then was the true fulfilment of that word of 
 prophecy, then indeed a sword pierced thy soul! 
 Surely, then, everything that was earthly about her 
 love decayed and fell away. We do not find her at 
 the sepulchre of Jesus. When they all went with 
 their spices to anoint his body — Magdalene and 
 Salome, Joanna and the other Mary — the mother of 
 the Lord was not with them. No, that day had broken 
 her heart, and now she could only weep and pray. 
 But comfort, Mary ! What did thy Saviour say ? " A 
 woman, when her hour is come, hath sorrow ; but as 
 10 
 
106 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 soon as the child is born, she remembereth no more 
 the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world." 
 Comfort ! in thee too shall the new man be born. 
 Thy Son hast thou lost, but thy Saviour thou shalt find 
 again ! 
 
 Lastly, contemplate the mother of the Lord as puri- 
 fied. Mary, thy son liveth ! We learn from a pas- 
 sage in Luke's gospel, that on the day of the resur- 
 rection, when the apostles were assembled together 
 with closed doors, like a timid flock, the women had 
 also joined their number. And doubtless in that 
 happy hour when the disciples of Emmaus, returning 
 to the little company, exclaimed, "The Lord is 
 risen !" and at once the glad response burst from every 
 tongue, " The Lord is risen indeed !" and when, imme- 
 diately after, the Risen One stood in their midst with 
 the resurrection-glory about his brow and the salva- 
 tion of peace upon his lips — doubtless the mother of 
 the Lord was present in that blessed hour. When 
 Mary Magdalene first recognized him after his resur- 
 rection, she sinks down upon her knee and would hold 
 him — Magdalene, hold him not, for sensibly he is 
 thine no longer. Henceforth thou shalt know him 
 after the flesh no more, but alone by faith. How must 
 those last forty days, which elapsed before the Lord's 
 ascension, have served to accustom the disciples to 
 the thought that he was theirs thenceforward no other- 
 wise than in a spiritual sense. Where then did he 
 dwell during those forty days in which he comes to them 
 only at intervals as an apparition from a higher 
 world? Already he belongs to the earth no more, 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 107 
 
 already, although his real glorification has not yet 
 begun. And Mary too must accustom herself to this, 
 she must learn to bear the gradual loosening of the 
 sensible tie which bound the Son to the earthly 
 mother. The hour of his final departure came at 
 length. The disciples go, in obedience to their Mas- 
 ter, to the Mount of Olives, so recently the scene of 
 sorrow, now to become the scene of parting. We do 
 not read that the women accompanied them : it is pos- 
 sible, however, that here too they were not wanting. 
 The cloud spreads out beneath him, the hands are 
 raised to bless — hands which have blessed all his life 
 long — he is received out of their sight. And of his 
 disciples we read that "they worshipped him, and 
 returned to Jerusalem with great joy." 
 
 And from that day forward, Mary lifts up her 
 hands in prayer, to Him whom those hands had 
 borne. For the season of trial has done its work, 
 and has brought forth the peaceable fruits of right- 
 eousness. And the sword which has so deeply 
 pierced her soul has severed effectually the earthly 
 from the heavenly in her love. Her Son has she lost, 
 but she has found her Saviour ! " Now ye have sor- 
 row," he had said when he was on the earth, "but I 
 will see you again and your heart shall rejoice, and 
 your joy no man taketh from you." . And so to Mary 
 he came again in the Spirit, and gave her a joy which 
 no man could take away from her. And full of that 
 joy she died in the arms of that disciple whom Jesus 
 loved. 
 
 Beloved, the way which Mary went is our way too. 
 
108 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 It is only through the death of the old man, that the 
 new man can be born. The history of the Passion 
 has opened for us a glance into some dark and deep 
 abysses in the human heart; but let the case of the 
 mother of our Lord teach us, that if the sin of man 
 is great, the training grace of God is great too. And 
 especially bear in mind that in our case, as in that of 
 Mary, our love to the Lord must be purified by days 
 of sorrow like hers. Is there not in all of us the germ 
 of that love — of love to him who is so full of grace 
 and truth? But, although Christ is before us, I fear 
 we have not Christ in us. We love him because we 
 see him with the mental eye, but we do not love him 
 "whom we see not." If we would learn thus to love 
 him, if we would have our love ennobled and refined, 
 if we would that Christ should take up his abode in 
 us — then we must take our stand beneath his cross, 
 and beneath his cross have our faith made pure. 
 And should the sword pain you as it pierces your 
 heart, still let not that make you swerve. When Mary 
 breathed out her spirit in the arms of the disciple 
 whom Jesus loved, ! then she had forgotten all the 
 sorrows of her life, and her sighs had all passed away. 
 And thus will it be with those of you who have under- 
 gone the purifying discipline of the ^ross of Christ. 
 When the end draws near, all our sighs and tears 
 shall have passed away, but our rejoicing over the 
 new man which has been born beneath the cross, ! 
 that shall remain with us, and it shall carry us over 
 into eternity! 
 
 eternal Love, thus do thou educate and train us 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 109 
 
 for heaven and for thee ! Beneath the cross of th j 
 Son, do thou purify our love to him of all in it that is 
 sensible, of all that is passing, and even should it be 
 amid a thousand pains, ! let the new man be born 
 within us ! Amen. 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUR's DEATH AND RESURRECTION MAKES 
 MANIFEST IN THOMAS WHAT A HUMAN HEART MAY BECOME 
 UNDER THE TRAINING OF GOD. 
 
 John xx. 29.— Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast 
 seen me, thou hast believed : blessed are they that have not seen, 
 and yet have believed. 
 
 Beloved in the Lord:— The history of the Passion- 
 week has opened to us many a deep and many a pain- 
 ful view of the human heart. But the narrative of 
 the days which immediately follow the resurrection 
 presents us with others which are refreshing and com- 
 forting. We witness changes coming over the hearts 
 of the followers of our Lord, which disclose to us 
 that those days, at once days of tears and days of 
 transport, were for them a blessed time of spiritual 
 training. We learn what can be made out of a 
 human heart by the educating hand and guiding eye 
 of the Lord. This has been already shown to us in 
 the case of Mary. It now only remains for us, fur- 
 ther, to illustrate the same truth as in the case of 
 Thomas : and with him we shall close this series of 
 meditations. 
 10* 
 
110 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 It were extremely desirable, beloved, that we had 
 possessed a full account and biography of each of the 
 Apostles. Would it not have been a special boon for 
 you, ye students of theology, to have had such a 
 record, you who are -one day to go forth, like them, 
 as messengers of the Gospel to men? As it is, how- 
 ever, it is only with regard to a few of the Apostles 
 that we are in circumstances to form an opinion as to 
 their natural character. Still we know enough to be 
 able to say, that they were men of characters widely 
 different: so that we may with confidence lay down 
 this statement, that when Christ chooses his messen- 
 gers, the consideration which influences him is not 
 what a man is by nature, but rather what may be 
 made out of him by grace. "A man must be drawn 
 by the Father:" on that everything depends. And 
 they all were drawn by the Father to the Son: Judas 
 even not excepted. In proof that even Judas was 
 drawn by the Father, we have the words of Christ 
 himself, when he said that none of those whom the 
 Father had given him were lost, save the son of per- 
 dition. (John xvii. 12.) The Lord chose, as you 
 know, the twelve Apostles as representing the twelve 
 tribes of Israel; but it seems to me, if we knew these 
 twelve a little more intimately, we should find that 
 they represent a great deal more than this, we should 
 see in them types of the most widely different charac- 
 ters; nay more, I doubt not, that every one of us 
 should be able to find the image of himself exactly 
 reflected in one of those twelve men. There were 
 men among them of whom one would say, that by na- 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. Ill 
 
 ture thej were quite unsuited for the position assign- 
 ed them in the kingdom of God, ay, even for that 
 kingdom at all. And this we must say of Thomas. 
 Thomas had a peculiarity with regard to which one 
 really must think that it was of such a character as 
 to render him unfit for the kingdom of God, to say 
 nothing of the apostolic office. There are but three 
 incidents recorded of him in the New Testament, and 
 they all lead us to the conclusion that he belonged, 
 indubitably, to that class of men, who, before they 
 can believe, must first see with their bodily eyes. 
 Scofi*ers talk of the Apostles as if they had been the 
 most credulous people in the world. Now, of Thomas 
 at least they cannot say this, for he was evidently by 
 no means easy of belief, but was, on the contrary, one 
 of those cautious and incredulous people who must 
 feel the ground on which they set their foot, and who 
 will make no leap over a ditch whose dimensions they 
 have not first duly measured. Well, is it not strange 
 to find such characters among the Apostles? Surely, 
 of all others, such critical natures are least suited to 
 be disciples of Him who said, "He who does not 
 receive the kingdom of heaven as a little child, shall 
 in no wise enter therein." Nevertheless we see that 
 even such circumspect and sceptical characters are 
 not necessarily on that account shut out from the 
 kingdom of God. Take courage then, ye men with 
 souls like Thomas, for the only thing really indispen- 
 sable is, that the Father draw the heart to the Son. 
 If you have this, then all is well, for whoever feels 
 himself drawn to Christ may be quite certain that 
 
112 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 Christ will educate and train him for himself. Let 
 us, then, contemplate this in the history of Thomas; 
 and let us take for our text those words in which the 
 Saviour has described him, in what he was as well as 
 in what he wanted: they occur in John xx. 29. 
 
 " Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast 
 believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet 
 have believed.'' 
 
 Let us contemplate this saying of our Lord in itself, 
 in its application to Thomas, and finally, in its appli- 
 cation to ourselves. 
 
 Is not this a strange saying ? Have you not heard 
 it often in the mouth of the scoffer? The Proverb 
 says, "Who soon believes is soon deceived." And 
 certainly for the affairs of every-day life, this maxim 
 of believing what is not seen does not hold good, as 
 Scripture itself admits. We find it said in the Bible, 
 and in that very book of the Bible which contains 
 what people call the maxims of worldly prudence — in 
 the Proverbs of Solomon — that "a fool believeth 
 everything;" and in Sirach we read, *' Believe not all 
 that thou hearest, for he that believeth quickly is 
 thoughtless." And, indeed, what would become of 
 our earthly life, if one were to make it a rule every- 
 where to believe without seeing? However, my 
 friends, we know that our Lord Jesus Christ did not 
 come into the world to instruct us how to plant and 
 to sow, how to make bargains and carry on business, 
 and so this saying is not intended to be a maxim to 
 regulate the transactions of civil life, but a rule to 
 guide us to eternal life. Nevertheless, let me pause 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 113 
 
 a moment to glance at the relations of this our earthly 
 life. You ask, what would become of it, if people 
 were everywhere to believe before they saw. But, on 
 the other hand, let me ask, what would become of us, 
 if we never did believe before we saw? if the wife did 
 not believe the husband, the child his parents, the 
 friend his friend? What would become of trade and 
 commerce, of human intercourse of every kind, if faith 
 and mutual confidence were taken away? Or, if the 
 husbandman would not go to the plough until he was 
 certain that Heaven would send no failure of his crops, 
 and the seaman would not spread the sail to the breeze 
 until he was certain that no storm would send him to 
 the bottom of the ocean ? I ask, how have men per- 
 formed their proudest achievements, by circumspec- 
 tion and distrust, by calculation of probabilities, or by 
 the power of faith and confidence? Take the noblest 
 deeds of the greatest warriors, and do they not them- 
 selves acknowledge that it was that internal confidence 
 which lies beyond all calculation and all theories of 
 probabilities; that inspiration of the moment in junc- 
 tures calling for immediate decision, that raised them 
 to be the rulers of destiny. Take away confidence 
 and faith out of human life, put everywhere circum- 
 spection and certainty in their place, and you take 
 away from human life not only one of its most power- 
 ful impulses, but also a source of its purest joys. 
 
 But unquestionably the domain to which this saying 
 of our Lord properly belongs, is the domain of reli- 
 gion; in proof of which, instead of speaking of the 
 religion of a nation, people are accustomed to speak 
 
114 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 at once of their faith. There are, as we liave just 
 seen, some things in common life, to the existence of 
 which no eje-sight can testify, which can be laid hold 
 of by faith alone, as, for instance, the trustworthiness 
 of a friend, or the success of an enterprise. But reli- 
 • gion has to do exclusively with such things. "Eaith," 
 says the Epistle to the Hebrews, " is the certain assur- 
 ance of things hoped for, and" (for thus it runs 
 according to the original text) "the proof of things 
 not seen." Faith, then, is a conviction of divine 
 things, which is grounded on the internal testimony 
 of the Spirit so strongly, that the apostle does not 
 hesitate to call this conviction an evidence or proof. 
 And with what other eyes than the eyes of faith is it 
 possible for a man to see heaven and hell, God and 
 the devil, blessedness and judgment, forgiveness of 
 sins and damnation — with what eye but that of faith 
 can a man see all these things ? But, perhaps, you say 
 it is otherwise with those works of God in history. 
 But tell me, have those deeds no other evidence for 
 us than that of any other historical fact? Have the 
 manger of Bethlehem and the Mount of Transfigura- 
 tion, the cross of Calvary and the ascension from 
 Mount Olivet, the bread that five thousand ate, and 
 Lazarus who was raised from the dead — have all these 
 things for us no other kind of certainty than that with 
 which we receive any other narrative of history? Or 
 is it not rather true that they too are united by a 
 sacred bond to our inmost heart, and are merged in 
 that testimony of the Holy Ghost, which speaks to us 
 of Christ as the Son of the living God, and of the Bible 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 115 
 
 as tlie word of God ? Have not those facts tlieir deep- 
 convincing power for us, tlirongh tlieir connection with 
 that sacred truth, on behalf of which the Spirit of 
 God gives such incontestable testimony in our hearts ? 
 And do you not feel that, in proportion as the record 
 of the Holy Scriptures is left without this connection 
 with our most sacred convictions, they lose for us 
 their certainty and their power ? But what ? Have I 
 forgotten to speak of an eye for divine things which 
 looks far beyond the eye of faith as it looks beyond 
 the eye of sense ? Have I forgotten the noblest eye 
 for divine things, the eye of science ? But why do I 
 ask if I have forgotten it ? Christ forgot it, when he 
 directed Thomas away from the eye-witness of sense 
 to faith instead of science. 
 
 My friends, let us not ignore the true position and 
 dignity of faith. It is science, you say, that furnishes 
 you with evidence in divine things as well as in others ; 
 but what, let me ask, what is it that impels you to go 
 in search of that evidence at all ? Were it not that 
 the eternal truths were entwined by faith around your 
 inmost heart, ay, and had you not a faith in divine 
 things or ever you are aware, would you let these 
 scientific investigations cost you labour and pain even 
 for a single minute ? Do you not hear sounding from 
 a thousand lips, on the right hand and on the left, 
 "i" ne'er the might of such a longing knew." 
 
 That bursting germ from which the impulse towards 
 divine things grows, is — doubt it not ! — is faith. 
 But this knowledge must also prove itself to be a 
 power in life, for much depends on that. And how 
 
116 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 otherwise can this happen than thus, that this know- 
 ledge re-acts upon the heart, and plants faith there. 
 Every one of jou must have felt that it is possible 
 to know a truth intellectually, without its becoming 
 a power in your life. That it never can become 
 until it is deeply experienced, until it beats in your 
 every pulse, until it breathes through all your soul. 
 Dare I call a truth really mine for which I have not 
 found a testimony in that region of my mind which 
 is preeminently myself in my own internal conscious- 
 ness and experience ? Look at history, and what do 
 you see there? What gave the martyr that joy with 
 which, for his God, he could mount the martyr-pile, 
 and look with steady eye into the surrounding flames ? 
 Was it the series of proofs of the being of that God 
 which he had conned in the dust and toil of the 
 schools ? Or, when the icy hand of death is laid upon 
 your forehead, will a chain of subtle reasonings be the 
 refuge to which you resort, in order to find support 
 and strength to look the king of terrors in the face 
 like a man, and with an "I know Him in whom I 
 have believed," go away into eternity? my friends, 
 even if our knowledge really were the clue which 
 could lead us safely through the labyrinth of life, even 
 were it the guide to bring us across life's thorny paths, 
 still, believe me, it is not to be relied upon in the 
 hour of death. In that hour the light of evidence 
 fades away from before the clearest mental eye, and 
 the only support then, is in the strength of faith. And 
 so we may say: that as faith in divine things is the 
 root from which, pressed forward by the impulse to- 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 117 
 
 wards the light, the tree of all knowledge in divine 
 things shoots up : so to this root the tree must ever 
 bend down its branches. Knowledge does indeed 
 impart light to the first obscure impulse of faith ; but 
 the power which bears thee through life, and holds 
 thee up in death, is faith alone. 
 
 Thus we have seen what believing is ; and now let 
 us turn to the disciple who would see before he be- 
 lieved. Thomas has already come before us as a slave 
 of eye-sight, and one poor in the celestial power of 
 faith, in that portion of the sacred narrative to which, 
 on a recent occasion, we directed your attention. I 
 refer to the trait which is recorded of him when the 
 Lord was preparing to go into Galilee, and the disci- 
 ples were endeavouring to dissuade him from it because 
 of the danger of the journey. With that strong inter- 
 nal confidence which guided all his steps, the Lord 
 referred them to that hour in the world's timepiece 
 which the Divine purpose had appointed, which could 
 not strike before he had accomplished his work. 
 "Are there not twelve hours in the day?" he said. 
 If any man walk in the day he stumbleth not." 
 With this calm assurance the Saviour spoke. "Let 
 us also go with him, that we may die with him," cried 
 Thomas! Yes, these words are doubtless a proof of 
 his love ; and in this respect we may well humble our- 
 selves before him, for his love to the Lord is so great 
 that to him the thought of dying is more tolerable than 
 the thought of parting from his Master. But for his 
 faith, it must be confessed, those words do not say 
 much. Had it, indeed, been the utterance of a heroic 
 11 
 
118 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 courage, looking steadily in the face the fortune God 
 had allotted to him, that would have been a very dif- 
 ferent thing. But it is the speech of a feeble pusil- 
 lanimous spirit, which would fain flee from the destiny 
 God appoints to it, if it could. As far as he could 
 calculate, he saw only danger. But, Thomas, why 
 canst thou not look in faith to that finger of the 
 world's clock to which thy Master directs thee, why 
 canst thou not believe as he tells thee, that that finger 
 cannot point to the twelfth hour one moment sooner 
 than in the eternal counsel of God, the time is come? 
 And if that time is already come, and already the 
 twelfth hour is striking, why dost thou look with 
 faint-heartedness, and not with joy, upon that death 
 which comes to thee not by human appointment but 
 by the will of God ? But as he only calculates and 
 does not believe, he can only see what happens upon 
 earth, not what is decreed in heaven. 
 
 We recognize this same reflecting spirit in another 
 passage, where, however, it shows itself in an inoff'en- 
 sive way. When the Lord, who had so long spoken 
 of his going to the Father, said to the disciples, 
 "Whither I go ye know, and the way ye know," 
 Thomas puts the question, *'Lord, we know not whi- 
 ther thou goest, and how can we know the way?'* 
 He wishes clearly to understand the whole, and who 
 would not approve of understanding in its proper 
 place. But understanding has its limits — there are 
 boundaries which it cannot pass — wide regions where 
 it cannot come. A pilgrim's stafi" is a good thing so 
 long as one treads the earth, but whoever wishes to go 
 to heaven requires wings, and the spirit's wing i^ faith. 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 119 
 
 Thus diffident as we have described him, Thomas 
 now went up to Jerusalem to that last feast of pass- 
 over with a fearful and doubting heart. And the 
 fulness of time was now come, and the finger of the 
 great world-clock pointed to the twelfth hour of which 
 the Saviour had spoken; and the twelfth hour struck, 
 and it was night. But the terrors of Gethsemane 
 and Calvary at length passed over the disciples, and 
 the quiet Sabbath dawned, after that eventful week, 
 but ah, not their hope, for the Sun of their life had 
 set, and might never rise again. And now that for 
 the calculating and the unbelieving all was over, I 
 wonder what were the feelings of Thomas? Even the 
 other disciples had, as we know, no certain hope that 
 the Sun of their souls would rise from the darkness of 
 death in brighter and imperishable glory. But one 
 thing they knew, that he ivould certainly rise again in 
 some way, that all was not over. The state of their 
 feelings at that time is very clearly seen from those 
 words of the two disciples of Emmaus: "We trusted," 
 said they, "that it had been He which should have 
 redeemed Israel ; and besides all this, to-day is the 
 third day since those things were done." Now only 
 they could speak thus, who, although without any cer- 
 tainty what should happen, nevertheless were con- 
 vinced that something must happen — and that the 
 history of the Redeemer of Israel could not close in 
 the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea. In this twilight 
 of hope did they go, on the morning of the third day, 
 to his grave; and when at length he for whom they 
 longed was restored to them again, so lively was their 
 
120 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 hope that faith was easy for them, and they at once 
 believed that it was He. But faint-hearted Thomas, 
 how was it then in thy soul? After the sun had set, 
 did a gloaming of hope remain also for thee, or was it 
 altogether night with thee ? It must haVe been night 
 with Thomas, for had he still cherished hope, it would 
 not have been so difficult for him afterwards to have 
 believed. Then again, had he too felt confident that 
 all was not over, and that it was impossible that all 
 the hopes of this mortal life lay for ever buried in the 
 tomb of Joseph, surely the faintest sound of the intel- 
 ligence of that Easter-morning would have sufficed to 
 set his heart on fire. How must then the testimony 
 of his own heart have supplied any want of certainty 
 and force in the testimony of his friends. What! 
 couldst thou stand in that circle where, but a few hours 
 before, fear had sat on every face and a tear on every 
 eye, but where now the words, He is risen! He is 
 risen! ring from every joyous tongue; and couldst 
 thou stand alone doubting then? Did no amen of 
 hope arise within thy heart? Couldst thou deli- 
 berately require three proofs that he was risen, ere 
 thou wouldst believe? "Except I shall see in his 
 hands the print of the nails, and put my jinger into 
 the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his 
 side, I will not believe?" too circumspect and cau- 
 tious soul ! how feeble must thy hope have been, else 
 had faith not been so difficult for thee. And yet, 
 beloved, his doubt is a matter of deep interest to us. 
 All things must work together for good to them that 
 love God. And the effect of Thomas's doubting is 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 121 
 
 designed to be, to prevent us from doubting. Thomas 
 doubted thus, that all who doubt like him might be 
 convinced like him. 
 
 You are astonished at his scepticism ; be astonished 
 then likewise at his faith, after the Lord had, in infi- 
 nite condescension, satisfied even the presumptuous 
 demands of his doubt. 
 
 Eight days had passed away; for the believing fol- 
 lowers of Christ, days of calm contentment, though 
 doubtless not unmingled with anxiety and longing, 
 but for Thomas they had been days of comfortlessness. 
 Once more Jesus stood in the midst of them with the 
 salutation of peace again upon his lips. The superior 
 knowledge by which, as the Lord at once gives the 
 disciples to know, he is aware of his daring speech, 
 must at once have gone home to his heart. Now, 
 Thomas, thou hast what thou wantedst, put him to the 
 proof, behold he ofiers himself to thee. But lo ! all 
 his tests are forgotten in the very moment when he 
 could apply them: and the power of faith which had 
 never been altogether extinguished in his heart, but 
 only suppressed, in a moment makes good its rights. 
 The beloved countenance of the Holy One is there 
 before him again, and upon its features the light of 
 the resurrection-morning rests. The beloved voice, so 
 often heard before, again falls upon his ear. What 
 need that he should stretch forth his hands to touch 
 his Lord, does not his heart feel him nigh ? Yes, it is 
 he, it is he ! who else could it be but he ? and falling 
 on his knees, he cries: "My Lord and my God!" 
 
 This expression, in which is summed up all the 
 11* 
 
122 THE CROSS A REVEALER 
 
 experience of his heart during those three years which 
 he had passed in his Master's company, was the high- 
 est that an Israelite could use. See in it a proof how 
 strong and true the bond was which, in spite of all his 
 disbelief, still knit him to his Saviour. See in this a 
 proof that throughout the whole period of his inter- 
 course with the Lord, the rays of his divinity must 
 have penetrated and warmed his cold, unbelieving 
 heart. All this is now disclosed in a single moment. 
 Doubt has lain upon his heart only as a thin layer of 
 earth. And now that the sun puts forth his might, 
 the hidden germ of faith shoots up with power. He 
 had been drawn by the Father to the Son, and that 
 hour completed his spiritual training. So he now 
 goes forth in the troop of the warriors of the cross ; 
 and he takes with him that word of warning, which 
 he received as a legacy from his Saviour, ^'Blessed 
 are they who have not seen, and yet have believed." 
 And ! with what power will he preach that truth to 
 others after his own deep experience! We find in 
 history, as many of you know, some record of his 
 apostolic labours. He bore the word of the cross to 
 Parthia, perhaps also to the distant Indies. And in 
 modern times there have been discovered among the 
 mountains of Media a Christian people whose fathers 
 were originally Israelites, who were converted by the 
 instrumentality of the apostle Thomas, the founder of 
 their Church. 
 
 If we now turn our eye once more from Thomas 
 to ourselves, we shall find that it is generally among 
 the circle of the disciples of science that spirits like 
 
OF THE HEARTS OF MEN. 123 
 
 his are to be found. These often lack the courage in 
 presence of intellectual difficulties and scruples to make 
 up their minds to perform a heroic act of faith, and 
 cut the knot they cannot untie. Such are, in the 
 language of the apostle, "ever learning, and never 
 coming to the knowledge of the truth." Young men, 
 are there not many of those unfortunates to be found 
 among you, whom this world has already cast off, and 
 whom heaven will not take in ? Whenever you would 
 make a fresh attempt to soar above the world, alas, 
 there is the two-edged sword of an intellectual objec- 
 tion, ready to cut the sinews of your heaven-bound 
 wing, and bring you down again to the clods of earth. 
 But think not, ye disciples of science, that the sad 
 prerogative of such conflicts is assigned alone to you. 
 my friends, if it be true that believing is nothing 
 else than holding to the unseen as if it were seen, and 
 if by nature we are all carnal, and therefore cleave to 
 what is seen, then there can be no Christian who has 
 not this fight of faith to fight, for it is indeed nothing 
 else than the struggle of the spirit against the flesh. 
 Was there ever a true Christian who attained to the 
 experience, that by his own works no flesh can be just 
 before God, without having first a long and weary 
 warfare to wage with the human understanding which 
 pleads within him the cause of the self-righteous heart. 
 Has any one ever been brought from the heart to 
 believe in a Father in heaven, who is reconciled in 
 Christ, without having first had to engage in many a 
 fierce conflict with the thousand-fold "No" raised in 
 opposition to that truth by the natural understanding, 
 
124 
 
 whicli pleads the cause of the accusing conscience? 
 Or, has any one ever been able, when hard pressed in 
 life's extremity, or amid the terrors of death, to hold 
 fast his faith in God, without having to combat against 
 the oft-repeated "No" of the natural understanding 
 which clings to the seen alone? Then why do we 
 subscribe the confession that no man can be saved by 
 his own strength or reason, if it is not that faith which 
 frees us from everything that is of ourselves, is a 
 thing so hard for us, is a thing which God alone can 
 work in us ? And therefore I say those words, " Blessed 
 are they that have not seen, and yet have believed," 
 are addressed not to the learned only, but to all of us, 
 to men and women, young and old, learned and un- 
 learned alike. And for all of us alike is the history of 
 Thomas recorded for our consolation, that we may 
 learn what a strong and mighty thing faith is, which 
 can triumph over all intellectual scruples, which is 
 capable of making a new man in Christ Jesus; and 
 that we may know that in the school of the Lord 
 Jesus even the most unbelieving natures may be trans- 
 formed into children of God. Or, to sum up the whole 
 in one word : Brethren, the man who, drawn by his 
 heart, comes to the Saviour, he will in no wise cast 
 out, be that man who he may, for in election it does 
 not depend upon what one is by nature, but upon that 
 which by grace he may become. 
 
 Lord, look upon us. We believe, help our unbe- 
 lief ! Lord, we come to thee, for we know not to 
 whom else we can go ; 1 do not cast us out I Amen. 
 
PAET 11. 
 THE SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 JESUS IN GETHSEMANE. 
 
 Matthew xxvi. 36-46. — Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place 
 called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here, while 
 I go and pray yonder. And he took with him Peter and the two 
 sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. 
 Then saith he unto them. My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even 
 unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me. And he went a 
 little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, my 
 Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless 
 not as I will, but as thou wilt. And he cometh unto the disciples, 
 and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What! could ye not 
 watch with me one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into 
 temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. 
 He went away again the second time, and prayed, saying, my 
 Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, 
 thy will be done. And he came and found them asleep again; for 
 their eyes were heavy. And he left them, and went away again, 
 and prayed the third time, saying the same words. Then cometh 
 he to his disciples, and saith unto them, Sleep on now, and take 
 your rest: behold the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is 
 betrayed into the hands of sinners. Eise, let us be going: behold, 
 he is at hand that doth betray me. 
 
 Beloved in the Lord! Christmas and New Year's- 
 day are gone, and already I call upon you to "go up 
 with me unto Jerusalem." We shall begin to-day 
 
126 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 our Good-Friday and Easter meditations. There are 
 not many texts suitable for Christmas in the New 
 Testament — but for Easter and for Good-Friday there 
 are many — so many, that it is impossible to exhaust 
 them. We have, on a previous occasion, considered 
 together the revelation of the human heart, as it is 
 exhibited beneath the cross of Christ. And in this 
 respect we have contemplated the heart of a Caiaphas, 
 a Peter, a Thomas, and a Mary. We saw that the 
 heart of man is only rightly revealed, when it is brought 
 beneath the cross of Christ. It is true, the Christian 
 congregation stands in need of moral sermons, and 
 the preacher must descend, with the word of Christ in 
 his hand, into the heart of man ; but it is ever to him 
 most rejoicing and refreshing, when he can look into 
 the heart of Christ himself. The difference is, as 
 when one, standing high in the mountain air, sees the 
 spring rise out of the rocky mountain-side, and when, 
 standing in the valley below, he beholds the copious 
 stream, which, as it flows, spreads blessing and fer- 
 tility all around. And may God grant that you may 
 know in your deep experience, that a power goes forth 
 from the word which testifies of Jesus, which makes 
 men whole. 
 
 We shall view the heart of Jesus in Gethsemane, 
 on the way to Golgotha, on the cross. Arise, and let 
 us go this day in spirit to Gethsemane, and there 
 behold the heart of our Saviour, in order that we may 
 thereby learn how we may drink the cup of sorrow, 
 when it shall be handed to us. Listen to the words 
 of the Holy Scripture, as we find it in Matthew xxvi. 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 127 
 
 36 — 46 : " Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place 
 called Gfethsemane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit 
 ye here, while I go and fray yonder. And he took 
 with him Peter and the two sons of Zehedee, and began 
 to he sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith he unto 
 them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto 
 death: tarry ye here, and watch with me. And he 
 went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, 
 saying, my Father, if it he possible, let this cup 
 pass from me : nevertheless not as I will, hut as thou 
 wilt. And he co77ieth unto the disciples and findeth 
 them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What I could ye 
 not watch with me one hour ? Watch and pray, that 
 ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is 
 willing, hut the flesh is weak. He went away again 
 the second time, and prayed, saying, my Father, 
 if this cup may not pass away from me, except 1 
 drink it, thy will he done. And he came and found 
 them asleep again: for their eyes were heavy. And 
 he left them, and went away again, and prayed the 
 third time, saying the same words. Then cometh he 
 to his disciples, and saith unto them. Sleep on now, 
 and take your rest : hehold the hour is at hand, and 
 the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 
 Rise, let us he going : behold, he is at hand that doth 
 betray me.'* 
 
 It may not have been half an hour before, that the 
 Lord had uttered so solemnly the intercessory prayer. 
 That was not like the prayer of a dying man, but 
 rather as of one already glorified. And behold! 
 around that sacred head, where but a little time before 
 
128 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 the light of glory shone, ah ! what heavy clouds are 
 gathering now. And yet this contrast, this change of 
 light and darkness, is not unintelligible. The man 
 who has not, in an unnatural way, repressed his feel- 
 ings, will always find, in those hours when he has 
 some heavy trial to bear, that, with whatever strength 
 and decision he may have surrendered his own will to 
 the will of God, and however clearly and distinctly his 
 eye may perceive the real tints of approaching morn 
 looking out from behind the night-clouds of sorrow, 
 nevertheless, when he really enters into the cloud, a 
 cold chill passes over his soul, and the convulsions of 
 sorrow overpower him. 
 
 These will be moments, isolated indeed, but just on 
 that very account all the more severe : in every case 
 suffering demands its due. When once this tribute 
 has been rendered, it is enough. Thus how often, 
 even after the sky has cleared up, do we see a single 
 storm-cloud discharge its burden of thunder, light- 
 ning, and rain, and it is not till the last drop has 
 fallen, and the last thunder has pealed, that serenity 
 and calm are restored. This natural feeling of pain 
 resembles the heat of summer and the cold of winter. 
 There are cold summers and there are warm winters, 
 but, at least for some days in the season, winter and 
 summer must assert their right, and when they have 
 once done so, it is enough. 
 
 The Saviour too has in this hour to pay his tribute 
 to suffering. He will do it now when unseen by any 
 but his disciples, that he may stand as a hero when 
 he must front his enemies. So may it be with us also, 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 129 
 
 brethren, when the clouds of sorrow gather round us 
 with all their terrors. Sorrow must have its due, but 
 let it be paid in solitude, where no human eye, or at 
 least none but a friendly one, is by to see. And then 
 let the tears be quietly dried, when we go out again 
 before men, that we cause not any offence to the 
 Saviour's name. 
 
 Like a flower whose root's unseen 
 
 While the bloom appears, 
 A smile beams on the Christian's life 
 
 Which springs from hidden tears. 
 
 If we look into the Saviour's heart we shall see how a 
 yes and a no are in conflict there: the no is human, 
 the yes divine, and divine is the final decision. There 
 is a human no in his heart as he realizes the hour 
 when his own extremest suffering and his people's 
 extremest guilt shall be brought awfully near to each 
 other, nay, shall consume one another. " Christ ! 
 the leaders of thy people, of the people of thy choice, 
 will let their enmity against thee rise to the highest 
 pitch of fury ; ay, they will even lay hands on thee, 
 on thee the centre and seal of all their promises." 
 His heart cries No ! " One of thy chosen will betray 
 thee, another of them will deny, all of them will for- 
 sake thee." His heart cries No! "The guilt of the 
 people and of mankind, which they have committed 
 against thee, will weigh down thy heart and bow thy 
 head, as if it were thy righteous doom." No! cries 
 his heart with abhorrence. And indeed how could he 
 then have answered otherwise? Had any other than 
 this been his answer, could he then have loved man- 
 12 
 
130 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 kind ? Could lie even have felt as a man feels, if, in 
 view of this final catastrophe, lie had not with all his 
 might answered No ! But perhaps you are thinking 
 of him of world-renown, that greatest among the 
 heathen, of Socrates — before whose death-struggle 
 there lay no Gethsemane. Do you ask why that man 
 whom no fainting of spirit, no bloody sweat awaits, 
 why, with such a calm smile of irony, he takes the 
 cup of poison which his accusers, in the bitterness of 
 their hate, present to him ? He was great indeed, 
 that greatest among the heathen that know not God, 
 but in that cold smile on the very verge of that last, 
 that most momentous step which man can take, I find 
 not his greatness. It does indeed appear great that 
 he did not tremble at the step he was taking into a 
 land which to him was really a land unknown, which 
 was disclosed to him only by the faint and feeble light 
 of a presentiment of the heart. But had he not been 
 greater still, if, even in him, who with all his wisdom, 
 was after all but a sinful child of man, the thought 
 that he must soon stand before his Judge, had driven 
 the blood quicker and hotter through his veins ? Had 
 he not been greater if a feeling of pitying sympathy 
 for the guilt which his accusers were incurring, and 
 for the blindness of his fellow-countrymen, had crim- 
 soned his cheek and darkened his brow with sorrow? 
 But the man who, in the days of his life, instead of 
 pitying the sinners, has ironically laughed at the fools, 
 such a one will find something to smile at even in the 
 deepest blindness of his people. ! the guilt of such 
 is indeed not once to be measured with the guilt of 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 131 
 
 the chosen people, that people who outraged him on 
 whom all their promises hung, the holy Lamb of God ; 
 and yet, had there been in the heart of the Grecian 
 sage but a spark of the holy sympathy of Jesus with 
 sinful humanity, surely then a shade of sorrow must 
 have passed over the smiling countenance ! No ! the 
 Saviour could not have been so holy, so loving, and 
 so great, and the guilt of his murderers could not have 
 been so enormous as it was, had he thought on that 
 hour without the sweat of agony, or had he gone to 
 meet it with only that horror of death which all 
 other children of men experience. But was it really 
 sorrow on account of his own suffering only, that so 
 afflicted and prostrated his soul? Were this the case, 
 for whom, I ask you, had the tears which he shed on 
 his last entrance into the city, when he cried, " ! 
 that thou hadst known the things which belong to thy 
 peace!" for whom would those tears have flowed? 
 Can you doubt that he who then wept at the thought 
 of the guilt his own people were so soon to incur, did 
 now in Gethsemane feel the weight of this sorrow also? 
 And when on the way to the cross the women of 
 Jerusalem, in their sympathy, mourned for him, was 
 it his own sorrow that engrossed his thoughts and 
 filled his soul when he cried, " Weep not for me, weep 
 rather for yourselves" ? No, believe me. On every 
 occasion when he is seen to shudder at the thought of 
 his sufferings, it is because he is looking down into the 
 abyss of his people's guilt, which these sufferings dis- 
 close. Thus it was too on that occasion, when, long 
 before the wings of death began to flutter around him, 
 
132 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CimiST. 
 
 he cried, " I am come to kindle a fire on the earth, but 
 I have yet a baptism to be baptized with, and how do 
 I long for it to be accomplished!" If then it cannot 
 be denied that the horror with which the Redeemer 
 contemplates death is at the same time a horror at the 
 thought of the guilt of humanity, then was his answer 
 all the more on that account a real human no^ when 
 he prayed, "If it be possible, let this cup pass!" 
 
 But along with this human No, there was also, 
 from the very first, as we must believe, a Divine, 
 deep-seated Yes, in his heart. What I mean is, that 
 from the beginning he knew to what end he was in 
 the world, he acknowledged a Divine necessity which 
 determined every step he took. "Must not Christ 
 have suffered those things, that he might enter into 
 his glory;" such is the question which he put to his 
 disciples after the resurrection, as he opened up to 
 them the Scriptures. From this we see that he had 
 read with his enlightened eye his own history in the 
 prophecies of the Old Testament from the first. You 
 know the prophecies of Isaiah, that gospel-book of the 
 Old Testament, and there you have learned to recog- 
 nize the noble form of the true suffering servant of 
 God. "He shall grow up before him as a tender 
 plant, and as a root out of a dry ground : he hath no 
 form nor comeliness ; and when we shall see him, there 
 is no beauty that we should desire him. Surely he 
 hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows; yet 
 we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and 
 afflicted." How often in its musings must the spirit 
 of our Lord have been absorbed in these verses. He 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHEIST. 133 
 
 did not require to ask, like that chamberlain of whom 
 we read, "I pray thee, of whom speaketh the prophet 
 this?" In this crape-covered mirror the Saviour be- 
 held the reflection of himself, and saw, long before 
 they arrived, the days of his sorrow. They had ever, 
 from the very first, been before his eyes. Does he not 
 already, at the first passover in Jerusalem, speak to 
 Nicodemus of the Divine necessity, according to which 
 he is to be raised upon the cross: "As Moses lifted 
 up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the 
 Son of Man be lifted up." And in how many sayings 
 does this must recur? "Except a grain of corn fall 
 into the earth and die, it abideth alone." "And I, 
 if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men 
 unto me." "The Son of Man came to give his life a 
 ransom for many." Yea, he even prays in the pas- 
 sage before us, "If it be possible, let this cup pass;" 
 a saying hard to understand, when we remember that 
 it was but a few hours before that he had actually 
 instituted the memorial of his death, when he appoint- 
 ed the sacrament of the Supper, that he had actually 
 preached of the blood of the New Testament, which is 
 shed for many for the remission of sins. Then the 
 Divine necessity was full before his soul, and now he 
 speaks of a possibility: "My Father! if it he possible, 
 let this cup pass from me!" 
 
 And yet he to whom it has been assigned to expe- 
 rience to the uttermost the fire of trial, to whom his 
 God has seen meet, at one period or other in the 
 course of his life, to allot such tests as Abraham had, 
 and such hours of affliction as Job knew, such a man 
 12* 
 
134 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 will be able to understand this, which to others appears 
 so mysterious. He will remember how, at such sea- 
 sons, all that a man has known and experienced 
 retires into the background, and not a single idea or 
 emotion remains before the soul save that one, all- 
 absorbing thought of pain, which in its insuperable 
 greatness fills the eye of the soul, and shuts out all 
 other thoughts from its memory and regard. One 
 may know ever so certainly and distinctly that the 
 cup, the bitter cup, must be drunk, and yet the soul 
 will cry, "Lord, is it possible; Lord, is it possible?" 
 And, even if the decree of God was graven in stone 
 before the soul: "Soul, thou must!'' still the soul 
 would cry, "Lord, is it possible!" It is indeed only 
 those among you, who are no longer apprentices in 
 the school of affliction, that know this kind of wrestling 
 with God; but you also will be able to bear testimony 
 to its truth. With us, indeed, it is only for a few 
 hours, or perhaps half-hours, that the inner eye of the 
 soul is so covered with tears, that it can indeed see 
 nothing else but those tears. With our Lord, how- 
 ever, this state did not last for hours, with him it is 
 scarcely a minute in duration, for see how he gives 
 expression in almost the same breath to both — both 
 to the wish of his heart, bound with anguish, and to 
 his consciousness of the divine, holy necessity of the 
 case: "If it be possible, let this cup pass;" but in the 
 same sentence he adds, "Nevertheless, not as I will, 
 but as thou wilt." These two points of view come 
 separately before his mind, in his contemplation, only ; 
 in reality, they are ever united ; and they are viewed 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 135 
 
 apart only to be instantly united once more. And 
 also in our Saviour's view you see how clearly the 
 two are brought together, when, the second time, 
 returning from his disciples, he says, " my Father, 
 if this cup may not pass away from me, except I 
 drink it, thy will be done." The cup is bitter, and, 
 in view of its bitterness, purely human feeling can 
 never do otherwise than refuse or be unwilling to 
 drink it. But he lets a little drop fall into the cup, 
 which is sufficient to make its contents sweet, and that 
 drop is the short phrase, " God wills it." When he 
 comes back from his disciples the first time, that little 
 drop is not as yet thoroughly mixed with the other 
 contents of the cup ; and the very point of conflict is 
 to make the divine sweetness transfuse the human 
 bitterness. And so when Christ says, "Rise, let us 
 be going," the bitterness has been swallowed up by 
 the sweetness, and made wholly to disappear ; and, as 
 the sun, which in the morning a stormy cloud had 
 covered, rises in majesty in the heavens, serene and 
 unclouded, the Saviour advances from beneath the 
 darkness of that cloud of woe, and accosts his enemies 
 with the question, "Whom seek ye?" 
 
 The decision cost our Lord a struggle. brethren, 
 it does cost man something to find that the cup which 
 God holds out to him, and which in itself is so bitter, 
 is notwithstanding sweet, just because it is the will of 
 G-od. The decision cost our Lord a -struggle. 
 how bitter must that cup have been to him at the 
 thought of which he could be so faint and disheart- 
 ened! Can you estimate what a weight must have 
 
136 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 lain upon his heart when from his brow the sweat of 
 agon J fell in great drops of blood? But what most 
 strikes the reader of this touching narrative is, the 
 longing of the Saviour for human sympathy. He is 
 in need of loving men to watch with him. "What, 
 could ye not watch with me one hour?" Here may 
 we also, brethren, draw something for our hours of 
 suffering. Yes, it is human to be unwilling to watch 
 through the hot and parching hours of life without 
 the solace of sympathy and love. Human too is it, 
 not to withdraw one's self when the children of afflic- 
 tion invite us to weep through their nights of tears 
 along with them. Our friends, too, will grow weary 
 and sleepy when called on to watch with us through 
 long nights of sorrow — for ! it is easier to rejoice 
 with those that rejoice than it is to weep with those 
 that weep. The friends of the Lord were overcome 
 with sleep, although they were required to watch 
 only one single hour with their Master ! How bitter 
 must the cup have been to him, for he is now so dis- 
 heartened : he had fought this very fight already, long 
 before the bitter reality, in his foreknowledge of the 
 future. The conflict in Gethsemane had been fought 
 through even in the wilderness of Jordan, in the days 
 of his temptation. Was there not, then, already at 
 the outset, the whole of the way of the cross stretch- 
 ing before the eye of his soul, that way which, accord- 
 ing to God's appointment, he had to go ; and already 
 at the outset did he make his decision ; although he 
 might have chosen joy, he chose the cross. And when, 
 at the feast at Jerusalem the first rays of the glory 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 137 
 
 wMch was to follow from his suiferings shone around 
 him, on the occasion when the Greeks desired to see 
 him, as the thought of the inexpressible joy which his 
 sufferings were to bring to the whole human race, 
 came before him, then, along with the vision of his 
 glory, the thought of what he must first endure seized 
 his soul. "Except a corn of wheat fall into the 
 ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it 
 bringeth forth much fruit. Now is my soul troubled ; 
 and what shall I say ? ' Father, save me from this 
 hour?' But for this cause came I unto this hour." 
 You see, it is the same conflict: "Now is my soul 
 troubled, shall I say, 'Save me from this hour?' — but 
 for this cause came I unto this hour !" It is the same 
 human No, the same divine Yes, and the same divine- 
 human decision. Thus more than once did the 
 Saviour fight this fight, more than once did he wring 
 from himself this decision. It is written of him, "My 
 meat is to do the will of my Father." Again, it is 
 written of him that "he learned obedience by the 
 things which he suffered." The will of God was 
 indeed meat to hin| ; but to find that meat so distaste- 
 ful to his humanity, to find it pleasant, was no easy 
 matter. Only by exercise, only by suffering, only in 
 repeated fights, in repeated decisions, was it possible 
 that the Son of God could learn to do this. And 
 none of you, my brethren, who have not learned obe- 
 dience to the will of God, and the joy of that obedi- 
 ence in the school of affliction, have ever learned it. 
 The fact that you wonder at these fierce conflicts, at 
 these repeated decisions of the Lord, may testify to 
 
138 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 you, either that you have not yet an idea, even the 
 faintest, of the load that lay upon the holy soul of 
 Jesus, because you are not yourselves holy enough; 
 or, that you have not yet felt how great the lesson is 
 which has been given you to learn: to be able in 
 everything, even in what to the natural man is dis- 
 tasteful and unpleasant, to say, not in the spirit of a 
 servant, but of a child, "Thy will be done!" "How 
 sweet are thy words unto my taste." 
 
 Ah ! most men do not understand even what sort of 
 a decision is required of them in their hours of suffer- 
 ing. There are some who, without ever imagining 
 that every affliction is sent by God charged with the 
 teaching of a moral lesson, regard their endurance of 
 those afflictions in the light of a meritorious work. 
 But do not err : it was not by the crown of thorns 
 alone that Jesus became the Christ; it is not, it 
 never can be so. Others there are who look upon 
 themselves as heroes, when they can forget their suf- 
 ferings. That is, to say the least, unnatural. Is it 
 not unnatural in an old man to act as if he were 
 young, or when a lame man would leap as if he were 
 whole? Thus, too, it is unnatural to wish to ignore 
 and deny a burden under which we lie, by the decree 
 of God. Nay more, it is ungodly ; for why has thy 
 God been pleased to smite thee with the rod, if thou 
 art not to feel its smart; why has he poured out for 
 thee the bitter draught, if thou art not to taste its 
 bitterness? But thou wouldst escape from the school 
 where God would teach thee, and because thou art 
 ashamed of the bitter draught, thou wouldst drink it 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 139 
 
 with blinded eyes. Thou fool ! is not the cup there, 
 and must it not be drunk whether thou drink it with 
 thine eyes open or closed? But we are not to take 
 blindly, but as seeing men, all that God holds out to 
 us. And to take it with open eyes means, to acknow- 
 ledge the end for which it is given. Now, it is given 
 us in order that we may learn the art of tasting what 
 is sweet in the will of God, even when that will in- 
 volves what is in itself bitter. This is what we are 
 intended to learn. To pour the little drop " God wills 
 it" into the bitter cup, and to mingle that little drop 
 with the bitter contents, until the taste of the whole is 
 sweetened. At present the most of you suffer, only 
 because you must, and therefore as servants ; but^you 
 should suifer as children, who suffer because it is the 
 will of their father that they should, and who, because 
 it is his will, make it also theirs. When one learns to 
 view sorrow in this light, what a multitude of moral 
 lessons open up to him. Then one need not wait for 
 extraordinary seasons of affliction. Each little daily 
 sorrow, every misunderstanding we experience on the 
 part of our fellow-men, every little disappointed hope, 
 every cross, every care, if only viewed in this light, 
 becomes a great lesson to every Christian soul: he 
 must not bear it as a servant, he must bear it as a son ! 
 ye who know not yet the school of affliction, and 
 the lesson that is there taught, go, learn it at Geth- 
 semane ! Learn it in contemplating the conflict which 
 the holy heart of Jesus knew there, and let the thought 
 of him be your consolation and your strength when the 
 cup is passed to you ! There you may once and again 
 
140 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 have to bend the knee, before your breast is unbur- 
 dened, and your brow again unclouded. The struggle 
 may be so severe that in it the physical man may be 
 quite shaken and shattered, and you may have to fight 
 every inch of the way. And if one decision be not 
 sufficient, another and another must be forced from 
 you. 0! in all these experiences your Saviour has 
 gone before you, for he, even he had to learn obedi- 
 ence by the things which he suffered. Eemember that 
 with every new conflict this obedience becomes more 
 and more our own, becomes more and more the law of 
 our new life. Hence it is that the conflict recurs so 
 often. If even with the Saviour the struggle had to 
 be fought, and the decision to be made repeatedly over 
 again, think what a very difficult task it must be to 
 sweeten the bitter cup with the consideration that it is 
 God who sends it. And even when the fight is over, 
 and the victory won, above the shout of triumph may 
 still be heard the groan of suffering nature. Do you 
 not hear, after the decision of Gethsemane, and before 
 the final "It is finished," the words, "My God, my 
 God^ why hast thou forsaken me?" May the soul- 
 conflict of our Saviour in Gethsemane teach us that it 
 is one of the highest works of our Christian life at all 
 times so to permeate and transfuse the human no with 
 the divine yes^ that the final decision shall be divine ! 
 
 The Christian lives, but lives to fight, 
 
 He struggles on his way. 
 Christ's people are his soldiers too, 
 Christ leads them by his Spirit through, 
 
 From strife to victory. 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 141 
 
 'Tis not the skirmish of an hour; 
 
 Sin yields not at a blow: 
 For pride of heart is ill to slay 
 And what seemed overcome to-day, 
 
 Will be to-morrow's foe. 
 
 Lord ! Thou who in all points didst become like 
 unto us, yet without sin. Lord ! Thou who in the 
 days of thy flesh didst oiFer strong crying and tears, 
 in order that thy heavenly Father's will might be 
 found sweet unto thee, grant unto us thy Spirit, that 
 we may understand the lesson that is daily, in every 
 sorrow, given us to learn. Grant us thy Spirit, that 
 we may fight a good fight, and may never by suc- 
 cumbing enfeeble our spirit. Lord ! how beautiful 
 is the crown which awaits us at the goal, do thou hold 
 it ever before our soul ! Amen. 
 
 SERMON IL 
 
 JESUS AND HIS BETRAYER. 
 
 LiJKE xxii. 47, 48. — And while he yet spake, behold a multitude, and 
 he that was called Judas, one of the twelve, went before them, and 
 drew near unto Jesus to kiss him. But Jesvis said unto him, Judas, 
 betray est thou the Son of man with a kiss? 
 
 Beloved ! We have fought with our Saviour the fight 
 in Gethsemane, and we have seen him come forth 
 from the struggle victorious. As the rising sun before 
 which a morning storm lay gloomily piled, comes 
 forth in majesty when the thunder is over, and in 
 13 
 
142 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 cloudless glory "flames in the forehead of the morn- 
 ing sky:" so the incarnate Sun of Righteousness rises 
 in calm majesty from behind the clouds of sorrow 
 which had surrounded him. Jesus comes forward 
 from the interior of the garden, and advances into the 
 presence of his betrayer and his judges. We shall in 
 our meditation of to-day leave the scene where we 
 have lingered, where we have seen him sweat as it 
 were great drops of blood, and heard the words, "Not 
 my will, Father, but thine be done," resound through 
 that lonely night. To-day we shall contemplate 
 those last words that the Saviour addresses to his 
 betrayer. We read in the 22d chapter of Luke, at 
 the 47th and 48th verses, these words: ^' And while 
 he yet spaJce, behold a multitude, and he that was 
 called Judas, one of the twelve, went before them, 
 and drew near unto Jesus to kiss him. But Jesus 
 said unto him, Judas, betray est thou the Son of man 
 with a kiss 9'' 
 
 Let us cast a glance on the deed of the traitor, on 
 the cunning, the terror of conscience, and the turpi- 
 tude of the act ; then we shall look at the words of our 
 Lord, and contemplate the repose, the love, and the 
 sublime majesty of these words. 
 
 When Jesus gave the sop to Judas, and in answer 
 to the disciple that lay on his breast, said, " He it is 
 to whom I shall give a sop, when I have dipped it;" 
 probably it was a struggle of many weeks, ay, of 
 months, that was then finally decided. "And after 
 the sop Satan entered into him" we read. (John xiii. 
 27.) So long as he was in conflict with this thought 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 143 
 
 of blackness he was still in the power of God: now 
 the power of conscience prevailed, and now the temp- 
 tation of Satan. When the decision was matured, he 
 was from that moment in the power of Satan, and 
 every step on the descending path led nearer to the- 
 abyss. He went out into the night — what a^eontrast ! 
 There, in that lighted room, they are celebrating the 
 last feast of love, and he — he goes out into the night 
 and to the children of the night. T^e arrangement 
 had previously been mad^TSQ^lhifig remained but to 
 carry it into action. Mark in the first place the cun- 
 ning of the deed. We know that "the children of 
 the world" are, in general, wiser than "the children 
 of light." The serpent in paradise was wise too. 
 Alas, that the noble gift of reason, which God had 
 given to man, should itself, when once the heart be- 
 comes the servant of sin, be given over to that ser- 
 vice ! When that heart was right with God, wisdom 
 was the noble offspring of reason; now, alas, all that 
 is left is subtilty, and that a subtilty which works in 
 the service of hell! 0, do not deceive yourselves, 
 those among you who imagine that by reason and sci- 
 ence alone you can place yourselves secure above the 
 power of sin: "where your treasure is," says Christ, 
 "there will your heart be also," and where your heart, 
 that is, the deepest bent and striving of your will, is, 
 there will also your reason be. 
 
 Do you know how your reason will serve you in the 
 service of sin ? Before the commission of the deed it 
 will suggest to you the means to be used, during its 
 commission it will teach you to spread a veil over it, 
 
144 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 and after the deed is done, when conscience begins to 
 pour forth upon you the storm of its indignation, it 
 will teach you how you may silence it with cunning 
 excuses and with lying self-justification. Thus, and 
 thus alone will it serve you. Because the heart of 
 Judas was not with God, his reason was blind to the 
 deed which he was about to commit. But it was. not 
 blind to the means by which the deed was to be carried 
 out. It advised that the deed should be done under 
 the cloak of night. It was a prudent suggestion in 
 the interest both of his cause and in that of his con- 
 science. It was prudent in the interest of his cause, 
 because had the deed been committed by day, more 
 swords, I think, than that of Peter would have leapt 
 from their scabbards ! The Lord had servants who 
 would readily have risked their life for his sake. 
 But the traitor would complete his work "in the time 
 when men sleep." Now we know from the parables 
 of our Lord, that it is in the time when men sleep 
 that the evil spirit sows his tares. Then, in the inter- 
 est of his conscience, the time was wisely chosen. He 
 probably said to himself, "Betray him in his sleep, 
 and then thou needst not look into his eye when thou 
 betray est him." Was that nothing gained? Doubt- 
 less it is a base act of treason to deliver up to his 
 enemies a sleeping friend — and in this case, 0, surely 
 much more than a friend ! But thus it must be, since 
 conscience will be so cowardly that it dare not look 
 him in the face! "Betray him while asleep," were a 
 cunning thought — to deceive at once the friends of 
 Jesus and the conscience of the traitor! However, 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 145 
 
 this part of his plot miscarries. In the house through 
 which the way to the garden leads, he receives intelli- 
 gence that the eye he fears so much is awake ; that 
 Jesus is in the garden, with his three disciples. How 
 shall he now secure his prey ? How shall he deceive 
 his conscience ? His cunning must devise new counsel. 
 He knows of what his own cowardly soul is capable, 
 and he suspects the same in the Lord: — he fears his 
 flight. How shall he then secure his prey ! He dare 
 not approach with the loud voice of treachery; he 
 dare not cry. This is he, seize him ! He must come 
 softly and unsuspected, like the serpent creeping along 
 the grass. The armed troop wait at the garden-door, 
 and the traitor advances alone, as if he were a friend 
 come to visit the Saviour by night. Judas ! amid all 
 these different schemings, has no voice whispered in 
 thine inmost heart ? was there no remonstrance on the 
 part of conscience, when the first step miscarried? 
 Sin is ever on uncertain ground. It is wont to become 
 alarmed and uncertain, when the first step falls out 
 amiss. It requires the hardening of long years, before 
 the sinner comes to feel the ground under his feet 
 secure in his proceedings, so that he does not become 
 alarmed when the first step fails. Beginners in crime 
 cannot bear this so easily ; they think at once that it 
 is the ministers of divine justice which they see pursu- 
 ing them. They shrink from every step, as if on the 
 right hand and on the left gins were laid for them, as 
 if the very next step they took might plunge them 
 into an abyss. Do you not see in this a clear proof 
 of the fact, that sin has no right in the world, that 
 
146 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 although it exists, it exists as a thing already judged 
 and condemned, that a moral Governor of the world 
 has set his curse upon it, (as the consequences of sin 
 so manifestly show,) that it is thus never a safe thing, 
 that it is outlawed. Is Judas a beginner in sin, or 
 has he already learned to make light of his conscience ? 
 Judas! couldst thou not even then have entered 
 into thine own heart, and have lent even then an ear 
 to the voice within, as thou didst find waking the eye 
 of Him whom only in sleep thou hadst thought to have 
 betrayed ? Did it not seem as if the finger of thy God 
 was then pointing the glance inward upon thyself? 
 Alas, in vain ! Conscience may have then lifted up 
 its voice ever so loud, he would only have thought 
 how he could most skilfully contrive to deceive it. 
 How apparent is it here that the cunning with 
 which Judas meant by a kiss to deceive Jesus, was 
 also intended as a device for deceiving Ms own con- 
 science? That kiss of treachery discovers with what 
 terror of conscience he had gone about the whole 
 work, discovers also the fact that his sense of being 
 conscience-stricken was most painfully oppressive at 
 that very moment when he was forced to meet the wak- 
 ing eye of his Lord. That kiss was a sign of reverence 
 and love. He thus thought he could administer a 
 quietus to his conscience. But, even more than this, 
 the thought that thus he would not require to look into 
 the eye of Christ as the eye of a judge, he expected 
 once more to be able to look on it as a friend looks 
 into the eye of a friend. And hadst thou then the 
 heart, Judas, to look on him as a loving friend, 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 147 
 
 whom thou didst fear to look on as thy judge? He 
 had the heart— but that too was no easy thing : how 
 much more readily had he altogether dispensed with 
 casting a last look on the eye of Jesus, whether as a 
 judge or a friend. But he had no other choice. Do 
 you imagine that Judas had never understood that 
 look of love?— then indeed had his guilt been infi- 
 nitely less. But he had : for the traitor too had ance 
 belonged to the number of those souls which are 
 drawn by the Father to the Son ; and this it is that 
 makes his guilt of so deep a dye. "Those that thou 
 gavest me I have kept," says the Saviour, "and none 
 of them is lost, but the son of perdition." (John xvii. 
 12.) So even Judas was one of those whom the 
 Father had given to Christ, the Father had drawn 
 him to the Son ; but he would not let himself be drawn ; 
 this it is which makes the deed so black. Even then a 
 gleam of the light of heaven might have shone upon him 
 from the eye of Jesus. But such a light was quenched 
 in the blackness of his soul; or rather, may it not 
 have become a burning firebrand there, which, kindled 
 by that last look from Christ, would afterwards burst 
 out in fury in his soul. He felt the power of that 
 look, when, throwing the price of him that was valued 
 into the treasury, he exclaimed, "I have betrayed 
 innocent blood, I have betrayed innocent blood!" 
 See how the innocent blood has been turned into 
 a sea of fire that burns within his heart.' And 
 that the blood he betrayed was innocent, the last 
 calm, holy look of Jesus testified. Thus it is that con- 
 science does not take its leave of a man, even when 
 
148 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 he has taken leave of his conscience. ! if there 
 be some among you who have ceased to hearken to its 
 voice, if not altogether, at least when it is lifted up 
 against some favourite lust; and if, notwithstanding 
 this, you feel that conscience has not forsaken you, 
 ! recognize in it, I beseech -you, the good angel of 
 God. Judas ! even now thou mayst own thy Lord ; 
 even now thou mayst retrace thy steps. When Peter, 
 after his denial of his Master, felt the rebuking glance 
 of love, then, we read, he went out and wept bitterly. 
 Judas too might have done this; but certainly it had 
 been more difficult for him to have done so then, than 
 it would have been an hour before ; for the armed 
 crowd now guarded the door of the garden, and his 
 own accomplices would have arrested him in his flight. 
 For the path of sin becomes with every onward step 
 more easy ; and the warnings and admonitions of con- 
 science, those angels of God, when despised and un- 
 heeded, are changed into angels of vengeance, who 
 stand in the way to prevent the hapless sinner's 
 return, and urge him down the ever-steepening descent. 
 Thus the armed crowd behind Judas would now have 
 prevented his egress. And thus the steps which a 
 man takes in such a path become an armed crowd 
 which hurry him involuntarily forward, and bar his 
 retreat. And is not the fact that sin becomes at last 
 involuntary, is not this one of the most fearful charac- 
 teristics of sin ? 
 
 That he should have betrayed the Son of Man with 
 the sign of reverence and love, is a testimony to the 
 terror of his conscience while committing the act ; but 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 149 
 
 it is also a proof of the turpitude of that act. For 
 with every step in the downward path of sin, the 
 means by which the sinner would seek to purchase the 
 silence of his conscience, become ever more censura- 
 ble, ever more detestable. To have made use of that 
 very sign of love, which' as such is hallowed by all 
 men, to have made use of that as a sign of treachery, 
 who does not shudder at the very thought? Does not 
 sin, and with reason, appear to us all the more hor- 
 rible, in proportion as it employs as its means what is 
 in itself holy? A theft committed by a depraved 
 child, an assassination in a church, poison adminis- 
 tered by means of the host, such are instances of the 
 class of crimes to which that of treason by a kiss 
 belongs. We are shocked at it because it is so base, 
 so hypocritical, so false ; even although we may feel 
 that in this case the exercise of physical force by one 
 of his disciples would have been perhaps even more 
 revolting. Judas ! what a firebrand must that kiss 
 have become in thy conscience ! Poor son of perdi- 
 tion, when thou touchedst those sacred lips, which 
 were so soon to grow pale in death through that kiss 
 of thine; say, didst thou not then think of those 
 moments when, from that holy mouth, it was thy 
 privilege to hear words such as besides no human 
 mouth had ever spoken to thee ? Didst thou not then 
 call to mind the moments when thou durst look into 
 that mild and holy eye without alarm of conscience, 
 with blessed, rejoicing heart? Ah yes! that kiss did 
 become a firebrand in thy soul ! 
 
 Let us turn our eye from this sad treachery itself, 
 
150 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 in order to direct our attention to the words of tlie 
 Redeemer. We saw him rise a few minutes before, in 
 the deepest perturbation of spirit, from that soul-con- 
 flict. And now observe what a divine repose is dis- 
 closed in the words with which he receives his traitor, 
 "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss?" 
 There is no ebullition of anger here : indeed, the pure 
 mirror of that holy soul was ever unruffled by the 
 storm of human passion. There is not even an ex- 
 pression of grief at the thought of the bitter cup of 
 which that kiss was the immediate precursor. He 
 thinks not of himself at all ; he thinks only of the son 
 of perdition; he has at present no eye for his own 
 sorrow, but only for the crime of his betrayer. Do 
 you not recognize in these words the deep calm of the 
 Saviour's breast that has followed the storm; the 
 undisturbed repose which has succeeded that commo- 
 tion which had stirred the very depths of his soul? 
 We witness here, once more, that repose and self-pos- 
 session of spirit which, in all his words and all his 
 works, we have marked as one of his most rare and 
 wonderful characteristics. 
 
 This is the last word that he exchanges with the 
 son of perdition, and that last word is still a word of 
 love. He had spoken so many words of love to him 
 already, but they had passed away from his soul, as 
 drops of rain which fall upon burning stones. 
 Already Christ had said, "What thou doest, do 
 quickly;" and it seems as if, with these words, he 
 meant to give up the son of perdition to his doom, as 
 if the Saviour were then surrendering him to hell; 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 151 
 
 but he has yet for him a word of questioning love. 
 Of questioning love! he might have had a question- 
 ing word of thunder to hurl at his soul; he might at 
 least have called down a woe upon him — but he does 
 not rebuke, he does not imprecate. He does but put 
 a question to him, and may we not say, as long as a 
 question can be made to find a passage to his heart, 
 so long we may surely hold it possible for that heart 
 to respond to that question. Soiyie sound in reply 
 may even now be heard in the recesses of his breast. 
 Even now the Lord does not appear to have pro- 
 nounced over Judas that most fearful word that a 
 sinner can hear, although one might have expected it 
 after the words, "What thou doest, do quickly." 
 And to every child of perdition does the pitying heart 
 of the Redeemer address the same question; and 
 even should he be standing on the very brink of the 
 abyss, if Jesus puts the question, an answer to it is 
 still possible, a return is still possible. ye who 
 have not yet lent an ear to his questionings, would 
 that, even in the last moments, you might hear them. 
 But truly, after one has once and again heard him in 
 vain, the capacity to hear becomes dull, and the ques- 
 tions of Jesus come upon the soul like the muffled 
 sound of distant thunder. Then, even questions of 
 love lose their power to awake; they can only alarm. 
 Could we but follow the life of a man who had 
 walked in the ways of righteousness, and had subse- 
 quently fallen away from the truth, and could we 
 number the questions of love which God had from the 
 very first addressed to his heart, what a sad impres- 
 
152 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 sion would be the result of such an exercise ! At first, 
 a timid, scarcely decisive, "Yes, Lord!" then one, 
 loud and strong, would be his response. Then, as the 
 sinner grew bold in iniquity, the *'Yes" would be- 
 come feebler and more uncertain, until in the end it 
 died away altogether, or was, perhaps, changed into a 
 "No" of bold defiance. When at the beginning the 
 Lord put the question, "Will ye also go away?" 
 Judas could understand it, and knew how to answer 
 it. That was the question of love: alas, what was 
 the state of his heart when this last was addressed to 
 him! 
 
 It was not a thunder- word of rebuke that the Lord 
 poured forth upon him, it was not a denunciation of 
 woe; there was love, nay, there was even a ray of 
 hope in this warning question. But, along with this, 
 how distinctly here does insulted Majesty utter its 
 voice! This love is no weak, sentimental emotion; he 
 does not say, dear disciple, how canst thou commit 
 so great a crime against me, thy loving Master ? No ; 
 the words are few, and solemn; and they bear the 
 stamp of wounded love, the stamp of the majesty of 
 insulted royalty — "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of 
 Man with a kiss?" What we have characterized as 
 most abhorrent in this kind of treason, that what men 
 regard as the consecrated sign of love should be used 
 as a cloak of iniquity, is precisely what our Lord 
 brings prominently forward. But more than that, 
 he points to the dignity of him who is thus given up 
 to death. All human relationships fall into the back- 
 ground. Not a word to indicate that he whom he 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 153 
 
 was betraying is the traitor's friend and benefactor. 
 "Thou hast betrayed the Son of Man," the man with- 
 out fault, without sin, the man through whom alone it 
 is that humanity rises to its true and proper dignity. 
 See with what majesty the Lord speaks of himself. 
 He does not place the traitor before a human tribunal, 
 he brings him before the throne of God ; for it is not 
 merely against a human heart, against human feelings, 
 that he has transgressed, but against the heart of 
 God, in giving up the only-begotten Son of God. At 
 that very moment, when the Saviour's human feelings 
 might the most readily have spoken, it is the feeling 
 , of insulted Divine Majesty alone that speaks. — Alas! 
 that word could be for Judas an angel of deliverance 
 no longer; for that it was now too late: and since it 
 could not be a delivering angel, it became an aveng- 
 ing angel which allowed the whole weight of his guilt 
 to fall upon his conscience — the guilt of insulted 
 Majesty. When that conscience cried out, "Thou 
 hast betrayed innocent blood," he must add. Ay, and 
 that innocent blood was the blood of the Son of Man, 
 of the Saviour of Israel — and it was with the sign of 
 love that I betrayed it. 
 
 And what does all this teach us f Does it all apply 
 only to the case of a wicked man, and has it no con- 
 cern with such pious people as we are? Is there, 
 then, no one amongst us who is seeking to deceive his 
 conscience? If so, has it not been your experience, 
 that every step you leave behind you in the path of 
 sin, rises up as a barrier to prevent your return, nay, 
 becomes a minister of justice, impelling you on in the 
 14 
 
154 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 downward course ? Then are you ignorant of tlie ques- 
 tions of love with which the gracious Lord follows one 
 even until he stands on the brink of the abyss? Are 
 there none here who have betrayed the love of the 
 Son of Man, and who are still betraying that love, 
 day by day ? We may not have come so far in the 
 descending path down which Judas rushed, we may 
 not be so near the abyss as he was; but every man is 
 in that path who deceives his conscience, and con- 
 sciously turns traitor to the love of the Son of Man. 
 Ye secure souls ! who as often as you hear the Divine 
 call, "To-day, if ye will hear his voice," are content 
 with thinking to-morrow will be time enough — let 
 that word of alarm fall with new power upon your 
 conscience, that a time will come when it will be said, 
 "It is too late!" Learn from the example of Judas, 
 that a time will come, if ye despise the grace of God, 
 when God's angels of deliverance themselves shall 
 become to your hardened hearts ministers of ven- 
 geance. Learn from his example, that he who in 
 carelessness and carnal security is ever plunging 
 forwards, without pausing to reflect, will find, when 
 at length he has reached the fatal abyss, and fain 
 would turn and go back, that he cannot go back; 
 nay, the despair of his own conscience hurries him 
 headlong down into the abyss. He that hath ears to 
 hear, let him hear! He that hath ears to hear, let 
 him hear ! Amen ! 
 
SUFEERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 155 
 
 SERMON III. 
 
 THE SILENCE OF JESUS. 
 
 Matthew xxvi. 62.— And the high-priest arose, and said unto him, 
 Answerest thou nothing? what is it which these witness against 
 thee? 
 
 We have already listened to some of the words of 
 Jesus in the time of his passion. The Lord has still 
 many a great word to address to our heart and con- 
 science from the history of that time. To-day, how- 
 ever, we will listen to the silence of Jesus, and let 
 that speak to us. 
 
 The last word has been uttered which our Lord 
 exchanged with the traitor; Jesus is delivered up to 
 his enemies ; Jesus is bound, and is conducted into the 
 presence of his judges. After a hasty examination 
 before Annas the high-priest, he is brought before his 
 real judge, Caiaphas. It is midnight. The children 
 of night have begun their dark work in the hour which 
 could most truly be called their own, as our Lord 
 himself said, "This is your hour, and the power of 
 darkness." It is midnight, the members of the high 
 council have hastily come together— probably not in 
 full numbers, as a decree of sufficient authority is not 
 passed till early next day— the decree then passed is, 
 "He is worthy of death." There were in that coun- 
 cil some who would never have concurred in that ver- 
 dict of guilty, such as Nicodemus, and Joseph of Ari- 
 mathea; but at this time they were probably not pre- 
 
156 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 sent, and on the morrow they were out-voted. (Luke 
 xxiii. 51.) False witnesses came and said, "He has 
 said, I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to 
 build it in three days." And now we read. Matt, 
 xxvi. 62, ''And the high priest arose, and said unto 
 him, Answerest thou nothing ? what is it which these 
 witness against thee? But Jesus held his peace.'' 
 
 We read also in two other passages of Jesus being 
 silent in the presence of his unrighteous judges. 
 "And when Herod saw Jesus, he was exceeding glad: 
 for he was desirous to see him of a long season, because 
 he had heard many things of him ; and he hoped to 
 have seen some miracle done by him. Then he ques- 
 tioned with him in many words; but he answered 
 him nothing." (Luke xxiii. 8, 9.) And, once more: 
 "When Pilate therefore heard that saying, he was the 
 more afraid; and went again into the judgment-hall, 
 and saith unto Jesus, 'Whence art thou?' But Jesus 
 gave him no answer." (John xix. 9.) In this repeated 
 silence of Jesus in the presence of his accusers and of 
 his unrighteous judges, there is a testimony for him, 
 there is a sermon for us. This silence is a testimony 
 for Jesus, for it testifies to the repose of his soul ; then 
 to his sublimity; and finally to his consciousness of 
 the righteousness of his cause. 
 
 Not to answer cutting and unrighteous accusations 
 in any other way than by silence, requires in the first 
 place a deep repose of soul ; and to this, the silence of 
 Jesus in the presence of the high-priest and of his 
 accusers gives testimony. You know, all of you, how 
 false accusation causes the sickened heart to boil with 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CnRIST. 157 
 
 agitation, and how readily one seeks to give vent to 
 the pent-up torrent of replication that fills his breast, 
 in a flood of counter-accusations and counter-invec- 
 tive. We have, however, already cast a glance on the 
 profound calm of the soul of Jesus, which succeeded 
 to the violent perturbation of the garden. Let us 
 then at once go on to consider the testimony which 
 this silence of Jesus affords to his sublimity. 
 
 Would not any answer which he could have given 
 have testified that the questioned stood on an equal 
 footing with the questioner, the accused with the 
 accuser ? Being silent, is a testimony to the chasm 
 between the two parties, a chasm so great that the 
 very words of the accusation of the one cannot be so 
 much as taken up by the other. So long as Jesus 
 speaks, he is still knocking ; when Jesus is silent, then 
 it is that he gives up. It is only before those that he 
 has given up that he is silent. His silence is a judg- 
 ment. By his silence he judges and by his silence he 
 condemns a high-priest, a king, and a governor. 
 What effect on Herod the silence of Jesus had, when, 
 arraigned before him as one accused, he answered 
 nothing to his questions, we do not read. But of 
 Pilate we read that he exclaimed in amazement, 
 "Answerest thou me nothing?" He who breaks off 
 in such a manner with his judges or accusers must, 
 moreover, be possessed of the full consciousness that 
 his fate rests in other hands than theirs. Speaking 
 with reference to this silence of our Lord, Peter says, 
 ''Who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when 
 he suffered, threatened not, but committed it to him 
 14* 
 
158 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 that judgeth righteously." See here the testimony of 
 his consciousness of the rectitude of his cause. Even 
 Pilate was sensible of this, although he was a man 
 little wont to recognize any other measure of justice 
 than that which is furnished by the scales which 
 earthly power assigns. In surprise he exclaims, 
 " Speakest thou not with me, knowest thou not that I 
 have power to crucify thee, and have power to release 
 thee?" And Jesus points him to the truth that the 
 scales of justice were committed to him by a higher 
 hand: "Thou couldest have no power at all against 
 me, except as it were given thee from above." Thus 
 it is that he places his own judges before the highest 
 of all tribunals. 
 
 This calm, this sublime, this God-given silence, is 
 charged with a lesson for us also, and we shall there- 
 fore dwell upon it a little longer. It opens up to us 
 a question which, in many relations of life, is of the 
 highest importance. If Jesus was silent before his 
 unrighteous judges, and on the occasion of such an 
 accusation, when should a disciple of Jesus, when 
 brought before unrighteous judges, be silent, and when 
 is it then for him a " time to speak?" 
 
 I .am not surely in error when I assume, that many 
 a one among you has proposed to himself this ques- 
 tion in some fierce, hard-pressed hour of life. If this 
 has not already occurred to you, rest assured it will 
 be your experience, according as you learn more of 
 men and of the human heart; and in proportion as 
 you take the pattern of Christ more and more for a 
 light to your feet. Ought not, let us ask, the disci- 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHllIST. 159 
 
 pie of Jesus to be silent when his Lord is silent, and 
 to speak when he speaks ? 
 
 It is certainly possible in the presence of unjust 
 judges to speak out of season, but undoubtedly it is 
 also possible to be silent when we ought to speak. 
 Jesus himself was not always silent in the presence of 
 the unjust judge. When the high-priest said to him, 
 *'I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us 
 whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God?" was 
 Jesus silent then? No; then he spoke and testified, 
 "Thou hast said." When Pilate asked him, "Art 
 thou a king?" was Jesus silent then? No; then he 
 spoke and testified, " Thou sayest, I am a king." 
 And when before the high-priest one of the servants 
 struck him with the palm of his hand, and said, 
 "Answerest thou the high-priest so?" here again 
 Jesus was not silent, but answered, " If I have spoken 
 evil, bear witness of the evil, but if well, why smitest 
 thou me?" When is it then a time for us to be silent, 
 and when is it a time to speak ? It is a time to be 
 silent when complete insensibility, and irretrievable 
 iyifirmity of will, or worldliness of mind has deprived 
 your antagonist of the capacity to understand. Thus 
 was Jesus silent in the presence of Herod — thus was 
 he silent in the presence of Pilate. It is a time to be 
 silent when gross falsehood testifies against itself in 
 the conscience of the accusers, that is, in the case of 
 men whose hearts are so irrecoverably hardened, that 
 with ears to hear still they will not hear. On the 
 other hand, it is a time to speak when even with the 
 grossest blasphemy it is still an erring conscience that 
 
160 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 speaks : thus Jesus spoke in reply to the servant of 
 the high-priest. Again it is a time to speak when the 
 question at issue is not your own private cause but 
 that of universal truth : thus Jesus spoke before the 
 high-priest and before Pilate. 
 
 It is, then, a time to be silent, when complete insen- 
 sibility, and irremediable imbecility have deprived 
 the accuser of the capacity/ to understand. This was 
 the case with Herod Antipas, Tetrarch of Galileee, in 
 whose presence Jesus kept silence. Many may think 
 that to all appearance he was deserving of a word from 
 Jesus. Was he not "exceeding sorry" when he had 
 to give his consent to the execution of John the Bap- 
 tist in the prison? Do we not read in Mark vi. 20, 
 the unexpected intelligence that he visited the prophet 
 in his captivity, nay, that he even heard him gladly, 
 and did many things according to his counsel ? And 
 we know that this Elias, this son of thunder, when he 
 spoke with princes, was not like such court preachers 
 as tremble before princes, because they do not make 
 God their fear and dread. Assuredly he did not aim 
 at pleasing men's ears with soft, soothing words, but 
 rather at reaching and arousing the conscience by the 
 might of simple unvarnished truth. Thus the plea- 
 sure Herod took in this Elijah-like preacher is a cir- 
 cumstance which speaks certainly in his favour. Yes, 
 even this Herod must have had his better moments, 
 he must have had some interest in the things of God ; 
 and have we not a proof of this in the joy he feels at 
 seeing Christ, and the hope he entertains of witnessing 
 some miracle wrought by him. And yet, Jesus was 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 161 
 
 silent. It was the very silence of Jesus before him 
 that condemned the man, for it showed, to the solemn 
 warning of all, of what value the religiousness of a 
 weak voluptuary is. For that he was such, history 
 informs us, as well as the Divine record ; we read of 
 this servant of sin that he seduced the wife of his own 
 brother. It was on account of this very crime that 
 the Baptist gave him the rebuke in return for which 
 that preacher of repentance received the reward of 
 imprisonment. He who has become the servant of 
 lust loses thereby command over his own will. Observe 
 what in the case of this weakling is so hopeless — he 
 permits the Baptist to preach before him, and yet he 
 does not free him from his fetters; he honours him, 
 and yet he allows the artifice of a woman and the 
 intoxication of an evening entertainment to prevail 
 with him, so as to make him deliver up to the hands 
 of the executioner this man, so honoured by the whole 
 people, and by himself also. So much is the religious- 
 ness of those servants of the flesh worth, who have no 
 control over their own will. Their good intentions, 
 fine discourses, fair pictures of imagination, alas, what 
 becomes of them all when they are called to bring 
 them into action ? While their imagination is playing 
 an idle game with religion, their will is all the while 
 earnestly busy with sin. This royal weakling who, 
 for the sake of a woman, had given up into the hands 
 of the executioner a man, whom he himself recognized 
 as a prophet of God, is held by Jesus unworthy of a 
 reply, because, on account of his irremediable weak- 
 
162 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 ness of character, any reply would have been lost upon 
 him. 
 
 In the case of Pilate, too, it might appear at first 
 sight as if his question was deserving of an answer. 
 The whole appearance of Jesus had already impressed 
 him as something strange and unaccountable. When 
 the Jews said. He made himself the Son of God, we 
 read of him that "he was the more afraid." Even in 
 this man's empty and thoroughly earth-bound soul, 
 there arises a question which has relation to heavenly 
 things: What! could it possibly be, that what the 
 ancients tell us in their fables of the sons of their gods, 
 who wandered upon the earth, could it be that these 
 fables had become really true ? This question arises 
 within him. He comes once more before Jesus, and 
 asks, "Whence art thou," art thou a being from 
 another world? He asks, full of amazement and 
 anxiety, but to this question Jesus returns no answer. 
 You are surprised at this, brethren, and it is perhaps 
 natural that you should be. But you must not forget 
 what had preceded. When Jesus had said to Pilate, 
 " Thou sayest it, I am a king. To this end was I born, 
 and for this end came I into the world, that I should 
 bear witness unto the truth" — that God-forsaken 
 worldling had turned his back upon him, with the 
 sneering exclamation, " What is truth ?" Now observe, 
 the man whose mind is so perverted and so debased 
 that he doubts and despairs of truth — such a man 
 receives from Jesus no answer. And then can it be 
 that a man should turn his back upon a king, at the 
 very moment when he is asserting his royal rights, 
 
I 
 
 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 163 
 
 and yet go unpunished? No. And yet that is what 
 Pilate did; yea, he did more than this, he turned his 
 back upon the King of Truth at the very moment 
 when he was asserting before him his kingly dignity ! 
 He who understood him not when he confessed him- 
 self to be the King of Truth, would he have under- 
 stood him if he had revealed himself as the only- 
 begotten from the Father's bosom? Who is there 
 that thinks it likely? Thus Jesus was silent before 
 Pilate on account of his utter insensibility. 
 
 Further, it is a time to be silent when gross false- 
 hood testifies against itself in the conscience of the 
 accusers ; that is, in the case of men whose hearts are 
 so irrecoverably hardened, that, though with ears to 
 hear, they will not hear. Thus it was with the high- 
 priest. *^Answerest thou nothing? what is it which 
 these witness against thee?" asks the dissembler, and 
 he has all the while the answer in his own conscience. 
 Shall we say that Jesus ought to have spoken then. 
 No; for at that moment any word from without had 
 been feebler than the word of conscience from within. 
 Only give the malicious defamer a few moments of 
 silence ; do not you answer him, let him alone to lis- 
 ten to the voice of conscience. While you are silent, 
 his conscience will speak more powerfully in your 
 favour than any answer you could give him. There 
 is preserved to us another instance of the silence of 
 Jesus in similar circumstances, where you may clearly 
 discover this. When Jesus said, with reference to the 
 woman taken in adultery, of whom we read in the Gos- 
 pel, "He that is without sin among you, let him first 
 
164 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 cast a stone at her," lie stooped down and wrote on the 
 ground, and — was silent. How in these silent moments 
 had conscience begun to carry on its work in the breast 
 of those hypocritical accusers! "And they, being 
 convicted of their own conscience, went out one by 
 one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last." See 
 how powerfully conscience speaks when you are silent. 
 Thus Jesus was silent before the high-priest on account 
 of his hopeless hardness of heart. 
 
 And now, consider on what occasions Jesus spoke. 
 He was silent before the high-priest, he spoke before 
 his servant ; he was silent before the insult of words, 
 he spoke before him — how shall we say it? — who 
 insulted him by deed, who struck him with the rod in 
 his hand. Men are astonished at this, they cannot 
 account for it ; then, too, what Jesus does say appears 
 to them far too little, just as if one would ward oif a 
 blow from a club with his little finger. But when, 
 these words are weighed more closely, how great does 
 Jesus appear ! Why did he speak here, and why did 
 he speak so mildly? My answer is. It was because 
 the man had committed the outrage with an erring 
 conscience, and in his zeal for a consecrated office. 
 "Answerest thou the high-priest so?" cried the man. 
 Do you not see that it is not for a private affair of his 
 own that this servant of the high-priest burns with 
 zeal, but for a sacred office ? Now, his speaking at 
 all on this occasion, and his using language of such 
 mildness, reveal in a very wonderful way the unper- 
 turbed repose of the Lord, and at the same time his 
 condescending grace. He is meek in the midst of 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 165 
 
 this, his own deepest degradation; for even in the 
 outburst of a brutal passion, he recognizes the sacred 
 spark of truth, respect for the authority appointed by 
 God. Observe, also, how Jesus in his reply enters 
 into the feelings of the man, lets himself down to his 
 level, as it were. That man, who with erring con- 
 science was so zealous for the cause of right, is the 
 very one whom he tranquillizes by simply and nobly 
 referring to the injustice of the action: "If I have 
 spoken evil, bear witness of the evil : but if well, why 
 smitest thou me ?" And thus, the reason why he, who 
 was silent before king, governor, and high-priest, 
 opened his mouth before the poor blinded servant of 
 earthly justice, was because, even in his coarse mis- 
 treatment, the voice of an erring conscience spoke. 
 
 Again Jesus spoke, and was not silent, when the 
 cause at stake did not concern his own private inter- 
 ests, but that of universal truth. He was not silent 
 when the high-priest asked him, "I adjure thee by 
 the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the 
 Christ, the Son of God?" neither was he silent when 
 Pilate asked him, "Art thou a king then?" And 
 the reason he was not silent on these occasions was, 
 in order that we should know what we ought to 
 answer questions of similar import. If Jesus had 
 been silent then, could this congregation now open 
 its mouth, and with joy confess, Yes, he is the Son of 
 the living God, he is the King of Truth? He was 
 not silent because he could then witness a confession 
 which would be echoed back from a million of hearts, 
 which thousands were to seal with their blood. On 
 15 
 
166 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 account of this confession, Paul holds him up to our 
 imitation, when, writing to Timothy, he says, "I give 
 thee charge before Christ Jesus, who before Pontius 
 Pilate witnessed a good confession." (1 Tim. vi. 13.) 
 By that confession, with which Christ signed his own 
 sentence of death, he has taught us that we too must 
 confess, and that we must confess the truth, even if 
 such a confession implies the sealing our own death- 
 warrant. Jesus spoke on these occasions, because it 
 was not his own interest, but the interest of the whole 
 human race that was involved. 
 
 that the Spirit of the holy God, which guided 
 him when he was silent, which guided him when he 
 spoke, would teach us all, according to his example, 
 to speak and to keep silence as God will ! And truly 
 it is intelligible enough that, of the two tasks, that of 
 being silent in accordance with the holy example of 
 the Lord, will often appear to us the most difficult; 
 for who is there that has not felt the power of passion 
 which would break forth whenever the unrighteous, 
 slanderous accusation has been made, or when we 
 have to defend our cause in the presence of unjust 
 judges? Now, I could refer you to that which, in 
 many such cases, prudence would direct. And is not 
 true piety at the same time the highest wisdom ? Do 
 we not see also here the truth of what the apostle 
 says, that already in this life piety has the promise ? 
 0, in how many cases is silence in the presence of 
 obtuseness and malice a greater act of prudence than 
 the most eloquent discourse could be ! But of that I 
 will not speak; for here we preach higher motives 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 167 
 
 than the mere dictates of earthly prudence ; here we 
 preach the example of him, " who, when he was 
 reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, threat- 
 ened not; but committed his cause to him that judgeth 
 righteously." (1 Peter ii. 23.) 
 
 Such is the holy pattern of the stainless Lamb of 
 God. Whoever among you who loves him, whoever 
 among you glows at the contemplation of that spot- 
 less Lamb, as he stands before his judges in the 
 majesty of silence, ! let him learn to calm the 
 passion of his breast, let him learn to pacify the 
 rising of his anger when unjustly accused. I address 
 myself to you, young men. You are proud that you 
 can be angry in a righteous cause, and you are right ; 
 for he must be a weakling indeed, whose soul cannot 
 be all on fire for the righteous cause. But on the 
 other hand, that young man who, when the flame 
 even of righteous anger is kindled, and would break 
 forth from his breast, cannot then suppress it, in the 
 view of the holy silence of Jesus, such an one will 
 not at least dare to call himself a disciple of Jesus. 
 Your righteous anger is good; and yet — if at any 
 time you lose command over it, or, if you are not 
 strong enough to say at the proper time to the storm 
 of your breast, "Be still! in the name of Jesus, be 
 still!" — it is nothing more than the lurid flame of 
 natural passion after all. It may be dijEcult for you 
 to keep silence when falsely accused, as Jesus did. 
 But, believe me, it is far from easy to speak, when 
 falsely accused, as Jesus spoke. I doubt if there is 
 so much as one here present, who, at the moment 
 
168 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 when the servant of justice dared to lay a violent 
 hand upon the Son of God — who at that very moment, 
 1 say, would have heen capable of thinking of the 
 erring conscience of that man, of recognizing in the 
 fire of the coarsest passion the spark of divine light 
 that still burned there — that is, his respect for the 
 existing authorities — and who could with meekness 
 have corrected his error. See also what a testimony 
 there is in these words of Christ to the regard he 
 paid to the authorities which were appointed by God. 
 Your passion boils if you receive a single wrong, and 
 that, it may be, merely an apparent wrong; while 
 Jesus remains meek and mild even under the grossest 
 misusage, because he respects the reverence for God- 
 appointed order, even when shown in conjunction 
 with the blindest zeal. Could there be a more pow- 
 erful appeal in favour of the reverence which the 
 disciples of Christ owe to that authority, which is 
 appointed as his representative on earth. See, then, 
 how hard it is, in the face of unrighteous accusation, 
 to speah like Jesus ! 
 
 0, all of you who feel this, fold your hands, and let 
 us pray : Father of mercies ! forgive thy children, 
 who cannot, even in an unrighteous cause, suppress 
 the passion of their breast ! Father, thou hast 
 surely promised to give the Holy Spirit to them that 
 ask him of thee — we pray thee for thy Holy Spirit — 
 help thy weak disciples — grant unto them thy Holy 
 Spirit, that they may have command over their pas- 
 sion. thou Saviour, who art meek and lowly in 
 heart, let thine example shine before us and in us, in 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 169 
 
 order that we may learn to be silent and to speak like 
 thee. Amen ! 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 THE OATH OF JESUS. 
 
 Matthew xxvi. 63, 64. — But Jesus held his peace. And the high- 
 priest answered and said ixnto him, I adjure thee by the living 
 God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God. 
 Jesus saith unto him, Thou hast said: nevertheless, I say unto 
 you, Hereafter shall ye see the Son of Man sitting on the right 
 hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. 
 
 Let us take up our subject, beloved, where we left 
 off in our last meditation. Jesus stands before his 
 unrighteous judges. The false accusers have given 
 their testimony. "Answerest thou nothing?" asks 
 the high-priest of him. "What is it which these wit- 
 ness against thee?" Bat Jesus was silent. What 
 this sublime silence was intended to teach the high- 
 priest, what it was intended to teach us, we have 
 already considered and laid to heart. To-day will, I 
 trust, be made clear to you, what is implied in those 
 words of Jesus, when he at length breaks silence, and, 
 in reply to the summons of the high-priest, begins to 
 speak. You will find the words of our text in Mat- 
 thew xxvi. 63, 64: ''And the high-priest answered 
 and said unto him, I adjure thee hy the living Grod, 
 that thou tell us, whether thou be the Christ, the Son 
 of God. Jesus saith unto him. Thou hast said: 
 15* 
 
170 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 nevertheless, I say unto you. Hereafter shall ye see 
 the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of power^ 
 and coming in the clouds of heaven.'^ 
 
 Thus then Jesus breaks the silence he had kept, for 
 he speaks not on his own account, but for mankind ; 
 he does not make a statement merely, no, Jesus makes 
 an oath, Jesus swears by the living God. As in our 
 courts, the judge administers the oath, so does the high- 
 priest here, and by a solemn Amen, the accused makes 
 that oath his own. This Amen, Jesus utters here in 
 the words, "Thou sayest." This lets us see in what 
 sense we are to understand that command of Christ, 
 *'I say unto you. Swear not at all." (Matthew v. 34.) 
 The oaths of which he speaks cannot surely be those 
 which are taken in courts of justice ordained by 
 God, in holy reverence, as before the great, unseen 
 Avenger. Such oaths, brethren, are themselves a 
 service rendered to God. Know you not what is 
 written in the Scriptures, that "when God made pro- 
 mise to Abraham, because he could swear by no 
 greater, he sware by himself." (Hebrews vi. 13.) 
 No ; it is not those oaths which belong to the service 
 of God that Christ forbids, but only those which pro- 
 ceed from forgetfulness of God; the oaths which 
 Christ reproves, are not those which the heart swears, 
 but only such oaths as the tongue utters, and with 
 which the heart has nothing to do. It is your oaths 
 and asseverations of which he speaks, ye God-forget- 
 ing tongues, from which you allow the greatest of all 
 names to pass, without thinking in the most remote 
 degree that you are speaking of him who fashioned 
 
SUEFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 171 
 
 that tongue ■within your mouth, and gave you the 
 breath which is within your breast! When Jesus 
 litters an oath, he utters it in the service of God ; and 
 if it could be said that there were ever moments in 
 his life when his soul was less near to God than at 
 other times — certain it is that at this moment he was 
 very near him. A feeling of peculiar solemnity seizes 
 us, when we see a man preparing to offer an oath, we 
 then experience somewhat of the presence of God. 
 How much more powerfully must we feel this holy 
 frame of mind, when Jesus is himself about to swear 
 by the living God ! 
 
 It was not for himself that the Lord delivered this 
 testimony and confirmed it by an oath. What did he 
 gain by this testimony? For him it was the signing 
 of his own* death-warrant. No. It was for mankind 
 that he testified — for us he testified. His words are 
 intended to prove : a stay for the doubter, a terror to 
 the adversary, a strong consolation for his followers, 
 both then and at all times. ' 
 
 It was a stay for the doubter; and first, for those 
 of that time. You are aware, that at that time poli- 
 tical and religious hopes were mixed up together in 
 the minds of the Jewish people ; that the nation very 
 confidently expected that their Messiah was to be a 
 king, who, endowed with the seven spirits of the 
 Lord, was to prepare for himself a holy people; but 
 who, at the same time, was to smite with armed hand 
 the rod of Romish supremacy to the ground, and to 
 raise the fallen sceptre of Israel. Jesus, however, 
 had declared, "My kingdom is not of this world." 
 
172 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 Observe with what earnestness he seeks to prevent 
 the mingling of the flame of earthly ardour with 
 heavenly zeal — of their political with their religious 
 hopes. And does not this teach us something, in 
 these times in which we live? Does it not call our 
 attention to the danger which threatens the religious 
 communities of our time, and, among others, that 
 Evangelical Union of Germany, in itself so hopeful 
 — our Gustavus-Adolphus Society — which, at its com- 
 mencement, I addressed in this city and from this 
 place. What a fatal danger would threaten that 
 Union, were tendencies to find their way into it, 
 which have for their end something else than the 
 honour of the Lord Jesus Christ alone, and the alle- 
 viation of the need of the brethren in the faith ! See 
 with what care the Saviour guarded against permitting 
 the earthly flame to be kindled side by side with the 
 heavenly. He rejoiced when, in the narrower circle 
 of his disciples, he heard the confession of his divine 
 Sonship sound from the depths of the soul of Peter. 
 He unveiled himself in his divine dignity to such 
 simple natures as the woman at the well, and the man 
 born blind. But in the presence of the whole of the 
 people he was silent on the subject, and, even on the 
 occasion of his entry into Jerusalem, it was only by 
 his actions that he gave expression to the fact, that he 
 was entering Zion as Zion's King. He would ever 
 be found only by those who sought him, would open 
 only to those who knocked. Thus, we may believe, 
 there were many among those people upon whom the 
 ray of his light had fallen only from afar, who were 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 173 
 
 Still inquirers and doubters. They knew tliat he was 
 a Master come from God, as Nicodemus said; what 
 they were in doubt about was, what he may have been 
 more than this. They knew that when he opened the 
 mouth he could not utter falsehood, but to them he 
 had not yet made himself known. Now he reveals 
 himself, confirming with an oath in the name of the 
 living God what he declares— "I am he to whom the 
 whole of the preceding history of Israel has pointed 
 for thousands of years. I am he whom the mouth of 
 the prophets has foretold as the Desire of Israel, as 
 the Consolation of the Heathen; I am Christ, the Son 
 of God." 01 what an anchor was that for doubting 
 souls to make fast to ! Nicodemus, for instance, what 
 must he not have felt at the word, how must his heart 
 have rejoiced! When, afterwards, they lifted up on 
 the cross the King of Israel to whom his soul had 
 rendered its homage— when, surrounded with male- 
 factors on the right and on the left, he breathed out 
 his pure life— the waves of doubt may have at that 
 moment closed over his head; but perchance, even at 
 that moment, his soul may have seized hold of the 
 anchor which the words of our text held out to him ! 
 "Nevertheless," he may have exclaimed, "neverthe- 
 less my Jesus has sworn that it is he that is the 
 anchor of my hope, and it reaches far beyond the 
 cross, and beyond the grave!" 
 
 Thus the doubters found strength and support in 
 this word of Jesus. And tell me, ye doubters of this 
 present time, ye who are still, even in this very hour, 
 inquiring, "Who was Christ?" even after eighteen 
 
174 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 centuries have answered the question — if the history 
 of these centuries, if the simple word of Jesus has not 
 satisfied you — say, do ye not, at least in that oath of 
 Jesus, which he sware by the living God, recognize 
 who he is, and find in that oath an anchor for your 
 doubting souls? Say, do you not feel at least that 
 thus much is certain : Were it even possible that the 
 word of falsehood could have passed from those holy 
 lips, surely in such a moment that was impossible! 
 In whatever stage we may be of our Christian life, 
 whether we are children in the faith, or men — whether 
 we have a soul like Thomas, or like Peter, Nicode- 
 mus, or John — still we all feel alike, and with the 
 greatest certainty, that in the moment when Jesus 
 uttered these words of our text, he spoke the truth. 
 Now if it is incontestably certain that it was the truth 
 which Jesus then spoke, how can you go on asking, 
 Who was Christ? just as if he had then given no 
 answer at all to the question of the high-priest. "An 
 oath of confirmation is an end of all strife," is the lan- 
 guage of Scripture. What ! and when Christ afiirms 
 with an oath who he is, shall the controversy about 
 Jesus not yet be ended ? no, my Jesus ! for me it is 
 enough, if thou dost only speak, my soul bows before 
 thy word — how much more when thou addest the con- 
 firmation of an oath by the living God ! In so far as 
 I am concerned, thy simple word has — God be 
 praised! — made an end of all strife. And even if 
 history had been silent, if thy grave had never opened 
 its voice, I should still with Nicodemus hold by the 
 anchor of thy word — now I know who thou art. Thou 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 175 
 
 hast declared that thou art the promised One. Thus 
 know Ij by thine oath, that thou art the seed of the 
 woman which should bruise the head of the serpent; 
 thou art the seed of Abraham in whom all the nations 
 of the earth should be blessed; thou art the Shiloh 
 unto whom the gathering of the people should be ; thou 
 art the Prince of peace, of the tribe of David, of whose 
 peace there is no end. This I know, for thou hast 
 sworn it by the living God ! 
 
 The answer of our Lord is a stay for the doubter, 
 but it is equally a terror to the adversary in those and 
 in all times. Listen to the first awful words with 
 which the accused summons his judges before the bar 
 of his tribunal: "From henceforth shall ye see the 
 Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and 
 coming in the clouds of heaven." We understand less 
 what these words implied than they, to whom they 
 were addressed, did. At the hearing of those words, 
 ancient, sacred recollections would come into their 
 memory ; they would recognize the reference to the 
 prophetic word. Let us put ourselves in the place of 
 Caiaphas and his fellow-councillors, and see what they 
 must have thought and felt on hearing words like 
 these. "I saw," thus writes the prophet Daniel, "in 
 the night visions, and, behold, one like the Son of 
 man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the 
 Ancient of days, and they brought him near before 
 him. And there was given him dominion, and glory, 
 and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and lan- 
 guages, should serve him : his dominion is an everlast- 
 ing dominion, which shall not pass away, and his king- 
 
176 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 dom that wliich sliall not be destroyed. I Daniel was 
 grieved in my spirit in the midst of my body, and the 
 visions of my head troubled me." (Dan. vii. 13, 14.) 
 This word of prophecy came up before their soul. 
 The '''Son of Man" — do you remember how often 
 the Lord makes use of this mysterious designation, in 
 speaking of himself? He had referred to this word 
 of prophecy in that expression ; — he had directed 
 those who would inquire more deeply than others to 
 the fact, that he who had appeared in the flesh was 
 he who claimed as his due the seat on the right hand 
 of power. And how before Caiaphas he gives this 
 idea clear and decided expression. As if he had 
 said, "The time, during which ye have seen me in 
 my humiliation as the Son of man, is now past, 
 another scene is about to open, in which you shall see 
 me only at the right hand of power, and from which 
 you see me descend only on the clouds of heaven." 
 The firmness and calm sublimity which the Saviour 
 showed in giving this witness of himself, cannot have 
 been altogether without efi'ect on the minds of those 
 present. However hardened we may think the hearts 
 of the members of that council to have been, we cannot 
 doubt that as he uttered these words, a thrill of emo- 
 tion passed through the soul of many there, and that 
 only in a low and trembling voice one and another 
 would speak of them to his neighbour. "The man 
 can have been no fanatic," we may imagine them to 
 have said, " who, with so calm, self-conscious a repose, 
 summons us here before the bar of God." And if 
 they said it not — the time was at hand when they 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 177 
 
 were with their own eyes to see that this Jesus sat on 
 the right hand of power. The judgment upon Israel, 
 that was the proof that he had attained his kinglj 
 dignity: he had referred to this, when he stood on 
 the Mount of Olives, and looked down upon the city 
 with tears; he referred to it when he went for the 
 last time out of the temple with the words, "Your 
 house is left unto you desolate. Ye shall not see me 
 henceforth, till ye shall say, 'Blessed is he that cometh 
 in the name of the Lord;' " he had referred to it even 
 when, fainting beneath the burden of his own crucifix- 
 ion-sorrows, he said, " Behold, the days are coming in 
 the which they shall begin to say to the mountains, 
 Tall on us, and to the hills. Cover us.'" 
 
 When the flames seized the temple of God, when 
 the holy place of Jerusalem fell in smoking ruins, they 
 must have been able to see, and deeply apprehend, 
 the truth, that that very Jesus whom they had con- 
 demned had sat down at the right hand of God, and 
 from that time forward would descend only upon the 
 clouds of heaven. The historian Eusebius relates, 
 that thousands of Israelites became believers, when, 
 in the judgments on Jerusalem, they were compelled 
 to own the avenging hand of their despised Redeemer, 
 and the fulfilment of his prophecies. And thus the 
 answer of Jesus in the presence of his judges became 
 truly then a terror to his adversaries. 
 
 These words of Christ are, moreover, well fitted to 
 
 strike terror into his adversaries in all times. My 
 
 Christian hearers, can it be that Christ who spoke no 
 
 untruth, when he said before the high-priest, that he 
 
 16 
 
178 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 was the Son of God become man, and confirmed the 
 declaration by an oath, uttered falsehood when he 
 added, that, to him who had descended into such a 
 deptji of humiliation, the place on the right hand of 
 power was, from that time forward, assigned, and that 
 into his hands all power in heaven and earth was given ? 
 And if that word was truth, then consider, ye adver- 
 saries! against whom ye are opposing yourselves. It 
 is not against the child of man that has passed away, 
 it is against a present, living Lord, who now shares in 
 his majesty the throne of Omnipotence. with the ever- 
 lasting God, and into whose power, along with the 
 heaven and the earth, ye too are given over, for your 
 salvation or your endless perdition. It was a lamb 
 that ye slew. A lion, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, 
 will come forth in battle against you. Have you not 
 heard the divine salutation with which the father 
 receives his Son, when he came from the cross and 
 the grave to sit down upon his throne: "Sit thou on 
 my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy foot- 
 stool." He must sit on the right hand of the Father, 
 until the Father had himself made his enemies his 
 footstool. With the day of Pentecost his campaign in 
 the world began, and it has been carried on ever 
 since. And what were his troops? They were 
 twelve humble Jews, unfurnished with any other wea- 
 pon, whether of assault or of defence, but the preach- 
 ing of one who had been crucified ; and on the other 
 side, in hostile array against those twelve, the whole 
 world was ranged. How unequal does the conflict 
 appear ! Ye twelve men of Judea, ye would go forth 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 179 
 
 to conquer the world. How irrational the idea, how 
 vain the result must prove ! But you who say so are 
 not looking beyond the men who are combating upon 
 earth. Why, see you not that strong arm from 
 heaven which is fighting with those weaklings upon 
 earth ? 
 
 Listen to that ancient war-song of the militant 
 Church of Christ: "With human might is nothing 
 done; and trusting in ourselves, we soon should fall." 
 Behold how, one after another, the enemies of Christ 
 have been compelled to lie in the dust before the little 
 troop of his warriors! Judgment began with the 
 hardened inhabitants of the land of Judea. It was 
 judged. Since the temple fell, never to rise again, 
 Israel ceased to have its ancient religion, for it had no 
 longer any king, any priest, any sacrifice. Is there 
 not inscribed upon the smoking ruins of Jerusalem the 
 words, "Be not deceived, God is not mocked"? And 
 since that time how many enemies, both without the 
 Church and within it, have been compelled to become 
 the footstool of his throne! Tell me, you who are 
 read in the history of nations, was it in any way to 
 be expected, according to what usually happens among 
 men, that that colossus of the Roman Empire, which 
 then encompassed the world, should be subdued by 
 mere words, by the mere preaching of that small band 
 of Jews ? And what was the theme of the preaching 
 which produced such mighty results ? It was a man 
 that had been crucified in Judea, whose ignominy and 
 shame had been manifest before the whole world, but 
 whose resurrection-glory only a few faithful friends 
 
180 SUFFERINaS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 Lad witnessed. Was it likely, according to what is 
 wont to happen among men, that the emblem of shame, 
 the cross, would one day shine on a monarch's brow, 
 would one day glitter as a mark of honour on a hero's 
 breast; that it would rise, a touching memorial, in 
 woods and in fields; and that, above all the cities of 
 Europe, it would, from its high elevation, signalize to 
 the distant traveller, as a sign, that there too men 
 were wont to bow the knee in the name of the Cruci- 
 fied? "It is the Lord's doing, and is marvellous in our 
 eyes. The stone which the builders rejected, has 
 become the corner-stone." 
 
 That which is a terror to the adversaries, is also a 
 source of consolation to his followers. And, indeed, 
 is it not even so ? Thus, this word of the Lord was a 
 word of consolation then to those who believed on 
 him. No doubt, when the sad reality rose up in over- 
 whelming power before them, the comfort that these 
 words conveyed was shut out from their eyes, along 
 with so many other words of comfort. But, after the 
 reality, so full of pain, had been succeeded by another 
 reality, equally full of joy, when, at the feast of Pen- 
 tecost, they witnessed the first manifestation of their 
 glorified Lord, they again recalled all the words of 
 comfort which they had forgotten — they would then 
 understand the import of this word too, for they could 
 refer for its elucidation to his acts, which proved so 
 wondrously that the Son of Man was indeed sitting on 
 the right hand of power. "Therefore being by the 
 right hand of God exalted, and having received of the 
 Father the promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 181 
 
 forth this, which ye now see and hear." This is the 
 exclamation of Peter, when the tongues of fire began 
 to burn upon their heads, and the tongues of their 
 mouth to speak in the new languages which the Spirit 
 taught. And now they know him henceforth only as 
 he who sitteth at the right hand of power; sustained 
 by his arm, they now go forth courageously into the 
 conflict, courageously to death. Stephen, the first 
 martyr, sees, as the earth closes to him, the heavens 
 open, and, full of the Holy Ghost, exclaims, "I see 
 the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing 
 upon the right hand of God." And thus had the 
 word which the Lord spoke before the high-priest 
 become, to their consolation, revived and renewed in 
 their hearts. 
 
 And that open heaven which Stephen saw, is open, 
 my brethren, now and for evermore, above His fight- 
 ing Church. " Crucified in weakness, Christ liveth in 
 the power of God;" this, as Paul saith, is the conso- 
 lation of his disciples in all times, and also in this. 
 This is their consolation in the conflicts of their 
 Church; it is also their consolation in the combats of 
 their own hearts. Christians of the Evangelical Church ! 
 we too have seen him in very recent years, coming to 
 us from the right hand of power, and on the clouds of 
 heaven. Are not the times of resurrection in his 
 Church — is not the fact that, as often as his enemies 
 have thought that they had succeeded in entombing 
 her, the stone has ever been rolled away from the 
 grave, as by an unseen hand, and the Lord has gone 
 forth glorified — is not this a proof that he who was 
 16* 
 
182 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 crucified in weakness, lives and reigns in power at the 
 right hand of the Father ? It was with this feeling 
 that the Christianity of Germany was penetrated, 
 when, in the days of the Reformation, the garden of 
 God shot forth and bloomed all around in the fair 
 flowers of the Christian graces ; when a fresh young 
 branch grew upon the old tree of Christianity, and 
 flourished and became green, at the very time in which 
 the old trunk appeared to be devoted to destruction. 
 Then one exclaimed with joy, "Behold, he sitteth on 
 the right hand of power, and comes on the clouds of 
 heaven!" And may not we repeat the cry now, in 
 these days ; we who, in spite of all that we must lament 
 and bewail, are nevertheless in truth celebrating now 
 a new spring time in the Evangelical Church, as both 
 within his Church, and without, among the heathen, 
 one victory after another is gained by the Captain of 
 Salvation? Is it not a marvellous thing in our eyes, 
 that the stone which the builders rejected, which the 
 servants of the Church themselves would, in their short- 
 sightedness, have made use of merely to fill up some 
 aperture in the building, is become once more the head 
 of the corner. The members of the Church are, once 
 more, become living stones in the temple of God, and 
 exclaim with new tongues, "He that was crucified in 
 weakness, he it is who liveth and reigneth in power 
 on the right hand of God!" Let the Church evermore 
 carry on her attacks against the two hostile camps, 
 which, still in our days, hold the field in opposition to 
 her; the one foe is the army of the unbelieving, who 
 would raze her fair foundations ; and the other is the 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 183 
 
 Church of Rome, which seeks to build on that precious 
 foundation, wood, straw, stubble. We fear you not! 
 You are, indeed, no other than our ancient enemies ! 
 In how many conflicts has He already defeated you ! 
 Take comfort, thou little flock, the word of the oath 
 stands sure, above all strife, above all doubt: "From 
 this time forth, shall ye see the Son of Man, sitting 
 on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds 
 of heaven." 
 
 Comfort, little flock, amid the conflicts of your own 
 heart! For you, too, the word of the oath stands 
 sure above all doubt, and above all strife. Take con- 
 solation from the thought, that not alone have we to 
 maintain the conflict, not alone have we to fight our 
 battles. Are not our enemies, at the same time, the 
 enemies of our Lord? And did not he, when he 
 ascended from the cross, sit down at the right hand of 
 power, that he might make all his enemies his foot- 
 stool. When we think of ourselves, we are dis- 
 couraged, but we become bold and brave when we 
 think of him ; when we think of ourselves we succumb, 
 but we conquer when we think of him. Therefore, 
 once more, courage, you little flock, courage also amid 
 your own battles. Only look, and, if you have the 
 eye of faith, as Stephen had, you will see him stand- 
 ing, at the right hand of power, ready to fight with us 
 and for us. Have but the eye of faith, as Peter had, 
 when he owned, at the feast of Pentecost, that he who 
 is at the right hand of God is that same Lord who 
 makes ready for his people a Pentecostal feast. He 
 is still standing there, he is standing at the right hand 
 
184 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 of power, and gives his Spirit, gives Pentecostal bless- 
 ings, to all who ask them. believe it only ! and 
 your faith will also this day prove itself the victory 
 that overcometh the world. Know you not the 
 weapons with which, in every age, believers have 
 gained their victories? Faith, prayer, and tears — 
 such are the weapons with which, at all times, the 
 Church has conquered. Let us lay hold of, let us 
 wield these weapons ; and, amid the conflicts of our 
 own spirit, and of the Church, in order that we may 
 thus impart courage to our heart, and nerve to our 
 arm, let us sing that war-song of the Church of 
 • Christ: 
 
 With force of arms we nothing can, 
 
 Full soon were we down-ridden, 
 
 But for us fights the proper Man 
 
 "Whom God himself hath bidden. 
 
 Ask we, Who is this same ? 
 
 Christ Jesus is his name ; 
 
 The Lord Zebaoth's Son: 
 
 He and no other one 
 
 Shall conquer in the battle. Amen. 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 185 
 
 SERMON y. 
 
 THE TESTIMONY OF JESUS: "MY KINGDOM IS NOT OF THIS WORLD." 
 
 John xviii. 33-36. — Then Pilate entered into the judgment-hall 
 again, and called Jesus, and said unto him, Art thou the King of 
 the Jews? Jesus answered him, Say est thou this thing of thyself, 
 or did others tell it thee of me? Pilate answered. Am I a Jew? 
 Thine own nation and the chief priests have delivered thee unto 
 me. What hast thou done? Jesus answered. My kingdom is not 
 of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, then would my 
 servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews : but 
 now is my kingdom not from hence. 
 
 Let us betake ourselves once more in thought to that 
 night which preceded the day of the death of the 
 Redeemer. The stony heart of Caiaphas is unmoved 
 by the solemn asseveration of Jesus; — it continues 
 unimpressed, even when the accused serves him with 
 that solemn citation before the bar of God. Midnight 
 is past, the morning dawns, and we now see Jesus 
 brought before the judgment-seat of Pilate, with the 
 priests for his accusers. In those days the sentence 
 of death, which the spiritual ruler in Israel had 
 passed, in order to be valid, required to receive the 
 seal of the secular authority; hence it is that the 
 priests appear with their victim before the governor. 
 The high-priest, however, knows well the man with 
 whom he has to deal. Evil-doers are the most acute 
 to recognize evil in others. He knows the weak point 
 in the equity of the Roman governor; he knows that 
 he is much more likely to fear the god who has estab- 
 lished his throne in Rome than the God of heaven. 
 
186 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 Hence the accusation they bring before him is not a 
 religious but a political one : " He says that he is a 
 king, he would establish a kingdom." The admission 
 concerning his kingdom which Jesus made before the 
 procurator shall furnish the subject of our present 
 discourse. We read in John xviii. 33-36: '•'Then 
 Pilate entered into the judgment-hall again, and 
 called Jesus, and said unto him, Art thou the King 
 of the Jews f Jesus answered him, Say est thou this 
 thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me? 
 Pilate answered, Am I a Jew f Thine own nation 
 and the chief priests have delivered thee unto me. 
 What hast thou done? Jesus answered, My king- 
 dom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of 
 this world, then would my servants fight, that I 
 should not he delivered to the Jews ; hut now is my 
 kingdom not from hence.'' 
 
 Art thou the King of the Jews ? asks the governor, 
 certainly not without a feeling of contempt for the 
 nation he despised, at the thought that such an one 
 could presume to call himself its king. Jesus replies 
 with the simple earnestness of truth, "Sayest thou 
 this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me?" 
 Hast thou seen in me anything to lead thee to form 
 the conclusion, or hast thou not rather in thine own 
 conscience a witness to the malice of the accusation? 
 Pilate, irritated by the very demand, implying, as it 
 seemed to do, that he paid any attention to the affairs 
 of the Jews, exclaimed, "Am I a Jew;" — that I 
 should trouble myself with such concerns as these? 
 And now follows the declaration which Jesus made 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 187 
 
 before Pilate concerning his kingdom. In it lie makes 
 an affirmation, he affirms that he has a kingdom, and 
 that he has servants ; but he also makes a denial — 
 "My kingdom is not of this world." 
 
 Let us consider more closely what Christ has in 
 these words denied concerning the nature of his king- 
 dom. ''My kingdom is not of this ivorld,'' he says: 
 ''Now is my kingdom not from hence,'' that is to say, 
 it is not a kingdom like those of this world, neither 
 has it arisen from hence. How then has he attained 
 to his sovereignty? Not certainly in the way in 
 which the kingdoms of this world come into the pos- 
 session of the powerful. And how is it that the king- 
 doms of this world are acquired? It must be either 
 by inheritance or by conquest. But Christ, although 
 born a king, did not receive his kingdom by inherit- 
 ance. Upon the throne of his sovereignty he was 
 preceded by none. It is a throne upon which before 
 him none ever sat, neither shall any after him sit 
 thereon. As little did he obtain his kingdom by 
 acquisition. He was called to his throne by no 
 human authority, by no convention of the nation, his 
 crown came immediately from God. No tumult of 
 battle was heard, when His empire was founded; no 
 blood flowed around his throne — saving only his own. 
 This he could substantiate by clear proofs. Worldly 
 kingdoms must be maintained as they are won, and 
 so he says, " If my kingdom were of this world, then 
 would my servants fight, that I should not be deli- 
 vered to the Jews." But he, when he was about to 
 be delivered, bade Peter put his sword into its scab- 
 
188 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 bard, and the last act of those hands before they were 
 bound — hands ever wont to distribute blessings — was 
 a work of mercy and of peace, in healing that slight 
 wound, the only one ever inflicted for his sake. He 
 touched the ear of the servant of the high-priest, and 
 healed him. As the kingdom of Christ had not been 
 established by the power of the flesh, neither was it 
 so to be maintained. This is a truth which flesh and 
 blood are slow indeed to apprehend, as is evident from 
 the fact that it is so readily forgotten. How often do 
 we require that the Lord should repeat the command 
 to us. Put up thy sword into its scabbard! How 
 easily does the opinion find its way into the Church 
 of God, that the great and powerful of the earth 
 must, after all, be a stronger and surer stay than the 
 faith of the congregation ! How hard does each one 
 of us find it to learn that fundamental law of the 
 kingdom of God, that it is only he that humbleth 
 himself that shall be exalted. '''• For the meek shall 
 inherit the earth.'' 
 
 How then, I ask again, has Christ attained to his 
 sovereignty, seeing that he has gained it neither by 
 inheritance nor by conquest. ! it was in a way 
 the most unlike what worldly men would dream of, a 
 way which no man can understand, excepting him to 
 whom it has been taught by the Spirit of God. 
 " Whosoever will be great among you, let him be your 
 minister. And whosoever will be chief among you, 
 let him be your servant. Even as the Son of Man 
 came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and 
 to give his life a ransom for many." What a strange, 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 189 
 
 unheard-of way is this to a throne and a crown! 
 Other men who would hold a sceptre would come in 
 power, he came in weakness; others would substan- 
 tiate their claim to authority, he laid his aside. 
 
 But has not Christ himself founded his kingdom in 
 this very way ? And does not every soul who belongs 
 to him know in his experience, that by nothing has 
 Christ taken so strong a hold upon his heart as by 
 his ministering love ? How has he put our flesh and 
 blood more deeply to shame than by his ministering 
 love? And how are the strong ones fallen a prey 
 into his hands ? How but by his ministering love ? 
 
 Here is One, whose power unknown 
 
 Conquers not with sword or bow ; 
 Million strong ones overthrown, 
 
 Lie in dust before Him low. 
 The banner which aloft he bears, 
 The sign of bloodless victory wears. 
 
 A gentle Lamb such triumphs gains, — * 
 
 A Lamb with sorrow riven; 
 His weapons are his woes and pains. 
 
 To these is conquest given; 
 His foes the might of mercy prove, 
 And melt beneath the warmth of love. 
 
 Now as the king of this kingdom is, so should also 
 his servants be. In the way by which he won his 
 rights as king, must we gain our rights as his subjects. 
 With carnal weapons no man can conquer for himself 
 a right to the privileges of that kingdom; nor can 
 any acquire them by inheritance. No : that kingdom 
 comes not by inheritance. " Not of blood, nor of the 
 will of the flesh, nor of the will of man." Ye pious 
 17 
 
190 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 pafents, well do you know this, for you would rather 
 leave as a legacy to your children that faith which 
 maketh blessed, than any earthly possession. Would 
 you not, were it only possible, rather leave all that 
 you have to others, if you could but bequeath to your 
 children the inestimable boon of a saving faith. But it 
 is impossible ; this blessing must be personally gained, 
 every one must acquire it for himself. Every child 
 of Adam has to fight the battle for himself anew. It 
 is only such tangible things as can be made over by 
 one man to another, that can be obtained by inherit- 
 ance. That which constitutes the most true and real 
 possession of a man, which is peculiarly his own, like 
 the boon of a living faith, must be won by every one 
 for himself by stern, internal conflict. It is true in 
 temporal things, that wealthy parents have wealthy 
 children : but in spiritual things, it is, alas ! too often 
 the reverse. A parent may be rich in grace whose 
 children are poor and portionless ; or there may be 
 children rich towards God, with parents having 
 nothing, standing in need of all things ! Ye must not 
 grieve, ye parents, at the thought that you cannot 
 transfer to your children that best of all possessions, 
 for, only consider, is not the fact that you can bequeath 
 your other possessions, a proof that those things which 
 can pass from one to another are not in themselves a 
 true and abiding portion? All those blessings which 
 you can leave to your heirs are perishable blessings ; 
 but that blessing which every one of your children 
 must "take by force," is an imperishable one. 
 
 Then again, no man can with carnal weapons con- 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OP CHRIST. 191 
 
 quer for himself the kingdom of God. It is true, in 
 all other things, that in proportion as a man has 
 wealth and power, strength of body, and force of cha- 
 racter, does the world and all it contains, lie at his 
 feet. Everything is in his power, everything may 
 become his — saving one, and that is the kingdom of 
 God. In that kingdom, very different laws come into 
 operation. The poor have the gospel preached to 
 them, that they may be satisfied, while the rich must 
 suffer want. He putteth down the mighty from their 
 seats, and exalteth them of low degree. Men are 
 overthrown — and little children receive the kingdom. 
 How many of the first shall be last, and of the last, 
 first ? And will Christ administer his government in 
 the time to come in another way, according to other 
 laws, than he does now ? Here he was not sur- 
 rounded by the powerful and the wise, according to 
 the flesh, but by what men would call the foolish and 
 weak of this world. He will keep the word which he 
 hath spoken : he will confess none before his heavenly 
 Father, but those who have confessed him, with word 
 and heart, before men. Here we may go even further. 
 So far from its being the case, that reputation and 
 riches, beauty and talents, by which everything else 
 may be acquired, make the entrance to the kingdom of 
 God more easy, these things rather make it more diffi- 
 cult. " How hardly shall they that have riches enter 
 into the kingdom of God!" Such is the sad exclama- 
 tion of our Saviour : and in these words it is not those 
 that are rich in worldly riches alone, that he means, 
 but all the rich, whether their wealth consist in gold 
 
192 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 and silver, or in honours, or in talents. For the 
 richer a man is, the more is he disposed to be self- 
 satisfied, and the more difficult is it for him to practice 
 self-denial. " Strait is the gate, and narrow is the 
 way, that leadeth unto life," says our Lord. And it 
 is just because the gate is so strait and the way so 
 narrow, that all the riches a man brings with him 
 must be left outside. Whoever would be great and 
 mighty in the kingdom of God, will find that there 
 power and greatness are measured in a very different 
 standard. The kingdom of God can be conquered by 
 us only in that most spiritual of all ways in which 
 the Saviour took possession of it. Every kingdom is 
 as one body; and in every member of the same body 
 the same spirit must breathe. The head is the centre 
 of its life ; but the life of the head goes through all the 
 members. Now, whoever has been taught by the 
 great Archetype of ministering love, by Him who is 
 our Head, the great lesson, that we are, all of us, here 
 in the world not to let ourselves be ministered unto, 
 but to minister, becomes a member of that kingdom. 
 Let them carry on the vain emulation — those men 
 who know nothing of this kingdom, and who seek only 
 to excel in rank, property, and talents — let them 
 carry on their vain emulation ! but to us, beloved 
 in Christ! is another rivalry appointed — the rivalry 
 of excelling in deeds of ministering love ! If, then, 
 this is the way by which alone the kingdom of the 
 Lord can be gained, ! how many of the first shall be 
 last, ! how many of the last shall be first ! 
 
 Thus it was that our Lord won the kingdom, and 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 193 
 
 thus have his disciples also achieved its conquest. In 
 this sense we read, ^'My kingdom is not from hence." 
 Now a kingdom, which is so unlike all worldly king- 
 doms in its origin, must also be very unlike them in 
 its nature, A sovereignty which takes its rise in a 
 way so gentle and so spiritual, will also be exercised 
 in a spiritual and unseen way. His kingdom is a 
 sway over spirits, which are related to him by the 
 bond of love. Among the members of this kingdom 
 the workings of love — of love towards Him and among 
 one another — are indeed manifest; for love is a power, 
 and every power must manifest itself in action. Such 
 a kingdom presents an appearance very different from 
 that of the kingdoms of the world. We see this in 
 every Christian congregation that is penetrated by 
 the Spirit of the Lord, and we should see it through- 
 out the whole Christian Church, were it not so imbued 
 with the spirit of the world. In the kingdoms of the 
 world, it is law that rules ; in the kingdom of Christ, 
 it is only the impulse and power of love. The king- 
 doms of the world mind the things of the world, the 
 kingdom of Christ minds the things of God. In the 
 kingdoms of the world, there is ever between the 
 ruling power and the subjects he governs a great gulf 
 fixed. But how strangely different is it, in this re- 
 spect, in the kingdom of God! There the king rules 
 only that he may make kings of all his subjects. For 
 Christ will retain nothing for himself of all the bless- 
 edness and might, of all the holiness and wisdom 
 that the Father has given him, but he will share it all 
 with his subjects. "To him that overcometh," thus 
 17* 
 
194 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 he speaks, "will I grant to sit with me on my throne, 
 even as I also overcame, and am set down with my 
 Father on his throne." May we not say in a certain 
 sense, that the incarnation of the Son of God is con- 
 stantly carried forward in the Church, which is his 
 body, until all come, as the apostle Paul says, "to 
 the fulness of the stature of perfect men in Christ?" 
 Is not his body " the fulness of Him that filleth all 
 in all?" 
 
 Let us now see what, in these words, he affirms. 
 He does not contradict the assertion that he has a 
 kingdom ; nay, he speaks of his kingdom and of his 
 servants. If we are to affirm anything with regard 
 to the kingdom of Christ, we must not content our- 
 selves with merely saying, that the kingdom of Christ 
 is not of this world; we must add that, although his 
 kingdom is not of this world, yet it is nevertheless in 
 this world, and will advance more and more in this 
 werld. Yes, God be praised ! we can say with joy, 
 that although the Lord's kingdom is not of this world, 
 still it is in this world, and, so long as the world exists, 
 it will never pass away from it. Even before the 
 highest sacrifice of ministering love had been offered, 
 he had won for himself, by means of that ministering 
 love, a kingdom whose subjects were all united in the 
 common testimony, " To wliom can we go hut unto 
 thee!'* Happy is that king whose happy subjects 
 exclaim, "To whom can we go but unto thee," and 
 who know of no other rule under which their lot could 
 be so blessed ! At first the members of that kingdom 
 were not numerous; after the Ascension, there were a 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 195 
 
 hundred and twenty gathered in; add to these the 
 five hundred believers in Galilee, and even then the 
 number does not make up a thousand. But the day 
 of Pentecost was a harvest-day. On that one day 
 three thousand were added to the Church. All of 
 these, indeed, cannot have been true and real mem- 
 bers of the kingdom; for, indeed, even among the 
 twelve there was a Judas, and among the brethren in 
 Jerusalem, an Ananias. 
 
 The kingdom of heaven was, as the Saviour had 
 said, as a net that was cast into the sea, in which there 
 were caught all manner of fish, good and bad together. 
 That net is the Church. Not until that net is full 
 will it be drawn to the shore, and then the selection 
 between the good and bad fish will be made. Thus is 
 it also with the kingdom of God in the Church. It 
 may well happen, that at one time there are many 
 more bad fish in the net than good ones ; but it can 
 never be that at any time there is not so much as a 
 single good fish there. For the Church of Christ is 
 the body of Christ; but a body, all the members of 
 which are bad, is fallen a prey to corruption and death, 
 and could no more be made alive. If you cast your 
 eyes on the page of history, you will see how, at the 
 very time when matters have looked worst in the 
 Church of Christ, and it almost seemed as if all its 
 members were dead, times of reviving have returned, 
 when, from the members which were still healthy, a 
 new life has broken out which has made the sick ones 
 whole again, and even those which were dead again to 
 live. And thus times may come, in which the king- 
 
196 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 (lorn of God in the church of a city, a country, or per- 
 haps even throughout the universal Church, is a king- 
 dom invisible to the eyes of men ; but all the more in 
 such times will the members there which still live, 
 manifest the life they have, should their only symptom 
 of vitality be their antagonism against those members 
 which are dead. Yes, the kingdom of God is in the 
 world. It is a community of men who have received 
 the forgiveness of their sins, and in whom in all their 
 weakness the love of God is still the ruling principle 
 of their life, heart, and mind. Such a kingdom of 
 God exists, were you only aware of it, exists in our 
 Fatherland, in this city. You must, as many of you 
 as are living members, be aware of this, and you must 
 also be ready to engage in conflict against those mem- 
 bers of the body which are diseased and dead. 
 
 Then again, one cannot own that the kingdom of 
 God is in this world, without at the same time acknow- 
 ledging that his kingdom is advancing in the world. 
 Our Lord came into the world with the full conscious- 
 ness — to which moreover he has given repeated expres- 
 sion — that he planted his kingdom here only as a 
 grain of corn. We have a pledge and assurance of 
 the fact, that this kingdom of God is no mere idea of 
 man, but an eternal thought of God. Witness the 
 sure prophetic glance with which he looked away from 
 the small beginning to the wide course of history, and 
 the future perfecting of his kingdom. He taught his 
 disciples to pray, "Thy kingdom come!'' He gave 
 them to understand that the kingdom of God is as a 
 grain of mustard-seed or as a little leaven. "Verily 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 197 
 
 I say unto you, there be some standing here, which 
 shall not taste of death, till they see the kingdom of 
 God come with power. ' ' The kingdom of God increased 
 and extended itself, spread out its branches all around, 
 and evermore shelterless birds have found refuge amid 
 its branches. The kingdom of God has grown and 
 taken deeper root ; the leaven has more and more per- 
 meated the measure of meal, and has leavened it all. 
 Christ has arisen upon humanity like a sun, of which 
 men have been able to make only this or that sepa- 
 rate ray their own. But Christendom was ever becom- 
 ing more and more capable of receiving all his rays. 
 At first all Christians were missionaries — all strove 
 and laboured in order that the leaven should leaven 
 the whole lump. It was only by degrees that, setting 
 out from the heart, it became diffused over every 
 province of life. By and by some of the leavening 
 influence had extended itself into the domain of 
 science. In how many fair blossoms on the tree of 
 Science can we trace the development of the principle 
 of the Christian life ! And since that period, how has 
 knowledge extended its investigations to the internal, 
 to the moral world of mind ! There are to be found, 
 in the simple sayings of the New Testament, thoughts, 
 such as, when they have once been heard, men can 
 never forget. And even many of those men in our 
 time, who would aim a parricidal blow at the Church, 
 and would seek to rid themselves of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ altogether, think and act under the power of 
 these very utterances. Then again, some of the 
 leaven has penetrated into the department of art. 
 
198 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 When did the inner world of man ever find such an 
 external expression in art, as it has since the time 
 when the sacred history of the Gospel became the 
 inexhaustible subject for the song of the poet, for 
 the pencil of the artist? How much has humanity 
 gained — what advantages also have been reaped by 
 art from the fact, that the figure of Christ the cruci- 
 fied has been placed before it; in that pattern of 
 majesty in the form of a servant, the opposing linea- 
 ments of which combine to form so grand a whole ! 
 Again, somewhat of the leaven has found its way into 
 the State. Since our States have attained the con- 
 sciousness that the work which God has given them 
 to do, is not merely to watch over the external weal 
 and woe of men, but far more than this, to care for 
 their education in Christian morality ; since they have 
 become solicitous for the education and cultivation of 
 their children, for the restoration of the fallen, for the 
 succour of the poor, the blind, the deaf and dumb ; in 
 so far as in the choice of their ofiicers, they do not 
 inquire merely into the ability, but also into the 
 morality of the man : in these and many other things, 
 we must joyfully own that the leaven of Christianity 
 has, to some extent, penetrated into the State also. 
 Thus far, then, is the kingdom of God already come, 
 and thus will it ever advance more and more. The 
 truth hath many degenerate children who seek to make 
 her their slave ; but, on the other hand, she will to all 
 time have obedient children, who hearken to her 
 voice, and allow themselves to be trained by her. 
 The heart of man is made for Christ, and can find no 
 
SUPFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 199 
 
 rest anywhere, but only in him ; and therefore it is 
 absolutely impossible that Jesus our King should at 
 any time have no subjects upon earth. He has had 
 them, he has them in the world now, he will have 
 them to eternity. 
 
 Christians, there is no blessing more worthy of 
 our labours and strong endeavour than the kingdom 
 of God. " Seek jq first the kingdom of God and his 
 righteousness, and all other things shall be added 
 unto you." why do you give yourselves so much 
 care and trouble, ye Martha-souls, and seek not after 
 that which Christ calls the first object of human 
 striving ! JSTo man can serve two masters. You must 
 absolutely come to a decision, as to which of all bless- 
 ings is the highest! Do you know and believe 
 assuredly, all of you who are assembled here, that 
 you are really subjects of Christ and members of his 
 kingdom ? then, tell me, do you, as often as we 
 make together the confession of our faith, " I believe 
 in one holy catholic Church, and in one communion 
 of saints," do you experience then the comfort that 
 lies in being able silently to add, in the fulness of 
 thankful faith, " of which Church I too am, by the 
 grace of God, a member— of which saints and holy 
 men I too am one?" May that spiritual sun, from 
 which light and life stream into the heart of man, 
 come forth, in order that his beams may fall upon 
 you ! He is there, that king who did not come into 
 the world to be ministered unto, but to minister; he 
 is there, and will win your hearts, that you may learn 
 from him how man may obtain that greatness before 
 
200 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 which all other glory, all the glory of reputation, of 
 gifts, and talents, becomes dim — the greatness which 
 lies in ministering love. He who would be great in 
 the kingdom of God, let him be the servant of all ! 
 
 Here is One whose power unknown 
 
 Conquers not with sword or bow, 
 Million strong ones overthrown 
 
 Lie in dust before him low: 
 The banner which aloft he bears 
 The sign of bloodless victory wears. 
 
 A gentle Lamb, these triumphs gain, 
 
 A Lamb with sorrow riven; 
 His weapons are his woes and pains, 
 
 To these is conquest given ; 
 His foes the might of mercy prove, 
 And melt beneath the warmth of love. 
 
 Let us overcome with Jesus, in order that with him 
 we may receive the crown of everlasting glory. Amen. 
 
 SERMON YI. 
 
 THE CONFESSION OF JESUS: "l AM A KING." 
 
 John xviii. 37. — Pilate therefore said unto him, Art thou a king 
 then? Jesus answered, Thou sayest that I am a king. To this 
 end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I 
 should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth 
 heareth my voice. 
 
 We have sought to edify each other by the contem- 
 plation of a number of passages taken from that por- 
 tion of our Lord's history in which, through the night 
 of his sufferings, the light of his glory in the most 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 201 
 
 wondrous way is seen to break. The devout of the 
 Church of Rome celebrate the road to the cross in a 
 way which brings it more sensibly before their eyes. 
 They divide it into twelve stages, to each of which 
 they assign a particular niche, and at every separate 
 place, as for instance when our beloved Saviour was 
 in an agony in the garden, where he was scourged, 
 where he was mocked, and so on through other afflic- 
 tions he endured, they fall down upon their knees 
 and worship him. We, too, have commenced a simi- 
 lar progress through the different stages of his suffer- 
 ings: we have followed him from Gethsemane, and 
 have listened to the words which fell from his gra- 
 cious lips. And now we stand at the entry of Pilate's 
 porch, where, possibly, John may have stood, and 
 heard his Saviour speak. Here we hear the word 
 which was afterwards to draw from Paul an admiring 
 approval, when, in his Epistle to Timothy, he speaks 
 of the good confession which Jesus Christ witnessed 
 before Pontius Pilate. (1 Timothy vi. 13.) Endea- 
 vour to understand this day that noble testimony of 
 our Lord. After the words, ''My kingdom is not of 
 this world," we read, John xviii. 37: ''Pilate there- 
 fore said unto him, Art thou a king then? Jesus 
 answered, Thou sayest I am a king. To this end 
 was 1 horn, and for this cause came I into the ivorldy 
 that I should hear witness unto the truth. Every 
 one that is of the truth heareth my voice.'' 
 
 Certainly it is a noble testimony ! In order rightly 
 to penetrate its significance, let us view, fitst, the 
 18 4 
 
202 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 majesty of this King, then the justice of his claim, 
 and, lastly, his subjects. 
 
 First, then, his majesty. Jesus has uttered many 
 sayings of himself, with regard to which one requires 
 a strong faith not to permit one's self to he led into 
 error concerning him. But Jiere that is not the case. 
 At all events, when a man, who was subjected to such 
 ignominy and shame, called himself the King of 
 truth, even Pilate himself might feel that what he 
 said was true. There was nothing in the circum- 
 stances in which he was placed, to negative or give 
 the lie to such an assertion. A King in the kingdom 
 of truth and the cross : are these contradictory ideas ? 
 Certainly not. Think you that truth, when she makes 
 her appearance in the world, is welcomed only with 
 garlands of flowers? Or, is it not rather true that 
 those righteous men, who confessed themselves the 
 servants of truth and who fearlessly testified for her 
 in their life, have much more frequently received the 
 crown of thorns to wear than a garland of flowers ? 
 There even occurs a passage in the writings of that 
 prince among the wise men of old, Plato, which one 
 may regard as an involuntary prophecy concerning 
 our King of righteousness and truth. He says: "I 
 am of opinion, that the truly righteous man, if he 
 were to appear in the world, would be scourged, 
 would be thrown into fetters, would be hanged." 
 Thus speaks, prophet-like, that voice of antiquity. 
 And thus may Pilate, if he had cared to look at all 
 around him upon the world, to see how it is wont to 
 deal with truth when she makes her appearance there, 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 203 
 
 have found no difficulty in putting faith in this 
 saying, from the fact, that the man who uttered it 
 •was about to die an ignominious death. Besides, the 
 Saviour doubtless expressed himself as he did with the 
 intention that a Roman or a Greek ear should be 
 capable of at once understanding him. For the 
 devout Jew sought after the forgiveness of sins, and 
 the Greek after wisdom and truth; and, before the 
 Jews, Jesus called himself the King of the kingdom 
 of God; before the Roman, on the contrary, he is the 
 King of truth. The name is a high and noble one; 
 let us now ponder what of majesty lies in it. 
 
 Let us begin with the idea which most naturally 
 presents itself. A king is, at all times, the first citi- 
 zen of his kingdom, and herein the Saviour declares 
 that he is a citizen in the kingdom of truth, that, in 
 other words, truth is his home, the region where, 
 and where only, he feels himself at home. There is 
 already in this admission a great step gained. Ye 
 students! you are proud, and glory in the thought 
 that in your present calling you have to do with 
 nothing sensible, but with that which is not seen with 
 the physical eye, or touched by the material hand. 
 0, would that all who call themselves students, were 
 men whose home is in the kingdom of truth, who feel 
 themselves happy and at home only there ; would that 
 all students were only men who evidently strove after 
 no blessings and enjoyments so earnestly as those 
 which cannot be handled with the hand or seen with 
 the eye ! Were this the case, what a boon would a 
 University be for the citizens of a town. At present, 
 
204 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 the citizens accuse the universities of contributing to 
 the demoralization of their towns. Then one might 
 be able to point to the students and say, There you 
 see that a man may find his life in enjoyments such 
 as the hand cannot handle, nor the eye see ! There 
 you see that man liveth not by bread alone ! 
 
 But the Lord does not call himself a citizen of this 
 kingdom merely, he bears the name of its King. If it 
 is the flower and nobility of the human race who find 
 their home in the kingdom of truth, Christ is the king 
 of these noblest children of humanity. Those may be 
 counted by millions who seldom aspire to anything 
 else than that which hands may handle and the eye 
 may see. But hundreds, ay, and hundreds of thou- 
 sands, there have ever been, who, impelled by an irre- 
 sistible impulse which swayed the whole of their life, 
 have striven, perhaps in great obscurity, towards the 
 attainment of that most precious possession, truth, so 
 incomprehensible, so unappreciable, to sense and sight. 
 Yes, through the whole history of the human race 
 there runs a chain of which such men as these form 
 the golden links. Behold Christ in his majesty point- 
 ing to himself as the highest link in that chain. And 
 if Christ is the head, then they are only members, 
 and cannot therefore exist by themselves indepen- 
 dently of him. They are made one only in him. He 
 gives it to be understood that all the truth which had 
 been in the world from the beginning meets and cen- 
 tres in him ; that he is the sun, of which all the rest 
 are only rays. He came, according to his own words,- 
 to fulfil the law and the prophets ; that is, he came to 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 205 
 
 make full : thus also does lie supply to all human long- 
 ing and endeavour after truth, its accomplishment and 
 fulfilment. But he, who possesses truth in such per- 
 fection, possesses it not for himself alone. We who 
 have the light only mingled with darkness, we who 
 walk in the twilight and wait for the perfect day, are 
 come into the world, in the first instance, only to gain 
 truth for ourselves, in order that we may let it shine 
 into our hearts and light up every crevice of our be- 
 ing. But he is come into the world that he might 
 bear witness of the truth. 
 
 You acknowledge the majesty of this testimony of 
 our Lord. Do you now require that we should con- 
 vince you of its justice ? He has called himself King 
 in the land of truth, might he not have contented 
 himself with the title of Prince? For, is it indeed he 
 who gives laws in every part of the wide domains of 
 this kingdom ? He speaks as if he owned the sove- 
 reignty of the whole land, and yet is it not, in point of 
 fact, merely the little province of religion and mor- 
 ality that forms his kingdom? Or, has he indeed 
 attained a position of supremacy in the regions of 
 human wisdom? Was Christ initiated into the arcana 
 of our modern science, our art, our commerce ? And 
 yet he speaks as if it was his right to administer laws 
 within all these wide-stretching boundaries. And 
 yet, he was not merely one of its many princes ; no, 
 Jesus was King in the land of truth. True it is, it 
 is only in divine things that he brought truth into the 
 world ; he has taught us nothing but that knowledge 
 which he learned in the Father's bosom — he has 
 18* 
 
206 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 taught men merely what God is, and what they are, 
 and how, through himself, sinners may be brought to 
 God. In so far as all earthly knowledge is con- 
 cerned, he has left us mortals to our own striving and 
 our own working. With how narrow a circle of 
 truths did his apostles at first set out ! But, I ask 
 you, did not this small body of truths become, as the 
 Lord had said, a leaven which, once admitted in ever 
 so small a degree into the heart of man, was capable 
 of regenerating humanity, and of transforming the 
 whole face of sciences, of arts, and of civil institu- 
 tions? I shall only adduce one circumstance, in 
 order that you may recognize what the value of a 
 strong faith is in the investigation of truth in all 
 departments. All labour and endeavour in the search 
 of truth can prosper only in the soil of moral earnest- 
 ness, strong self-denial, and pure love. 
 
 The storm that tears and rends the ocean plain, 
 Scatters the brightness that was mirror'd there. 
 
 Now, if it is true that faith, which Christ has 
 brought down to us, imparts, in a wondrous degree, 
 peace of heart, sincerity of self-denial, and purity of 
 love, shall we not be justified in saying, that Christ 
 rules as a King throughout the whole kingdom of 
 truth? See ye not, ye inquirers after truth, to 
 whatever class ye belong, see ye not that ye must 
 first draw near to the service of God, if ye would 
 tread the courts of the temple of science in a spirit 
 becoming her ministers ? Brothers, he who gives us a 
 heart that has found rest in God, a heart pure, and 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 207 
 
 free from the things of earth, places us upon an eleva- 
 tion where we are capable, for the first time, of 
 breathing the pure air of truth. How many exalted 
 views and searching reflections has the gospel brought 
 into the world, such as shed a new light in every 
 region of knowledge and of life ! Suffer me to men- 
 tion two examples. Can it be denied, that it has 
 only been since the time when the leaven of Chris- 
 tianity began to come into operation in the world, that 
 the sanctuary of the world within, and the domain of 
 human feeling, have been opened up to man in all 
 their importance? And further, is it not only since 
 then, that the individual man has come to be recog- 
 nized in all his dignity, while, on the other hand, 
 those of antiquity were wont to subordinate the indi- 
 vidual to his family, his generation, and his nation? 
 It is possible that Christ was King only over one 
 province in the domain of truth, but he was King in 
 that province which governs all the rest. Only that 
 the relation between this province and the different 
 spheres of knowledge is not like that of countries 
 which are contiguous to each other, but is rather that 
 of circles which lie within each other. Just as God 
 is that Being who encircles everything finite with 
 his own infinitude, without thereby annihilating that 
 finite; so religious truth is that knowledge which 
 encloses in its widest range all the other circles of 
 knowledge, in order to glorify and perfect them all. 
 Thus it stands incontestably certain, Jesus had a 
 right to call himself the King of truth. 
 
 And you will be all the more convinced of this if 
 
208 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 you endeavour to realize to yourselves how much it 
 requires to be so much as a true citizen in the king- 
 dom of divine truth, not to speak of the qualifications 
 requisite to him who arrogates to himself the title of 
 sovereignty therein. The knowledge of earthly things, 
 of the sun, the firmament, the moon, the stars, does 
 not, however much a man may possess of it, attain 
 within the inner court of the soul, but remains without, 
 and there it is chained to the understanding merely 
 by the power of memory. But of heavenly things, a 
 man can truly know only in so far as he is. You 
 may learn by heart a thousand times out of your 
 books what is meant by faith, and patience, and 
 devotion, love — and yet, no definition can teach you 
 what these things mean. He who, when all earthly 
 stays have given way, has not stood serene and 
 unmoved, being strong in faith; he who, when his 
 proud heart has arisen in rebellion in the storm of 
 passion, has not learned to subdue it, and to say to 
 the troubled waters, "Peace, be still;" he who has 
 never felt that he could weep to see others rejoice, 
 that he could sufier want to see others satisfied; he 
 who has never in fervent prayer to God forgotten the 
 world and himself: such a man knows not what faith, 
 patience, love, devotion, mean. He who could do all 
 that, is a man; but the master is he who is what he 
 knows. Now, what sealed to Jesus his divine pre- 
 rogative as King of truth is, that Jesus is himself 
 that absolute truth which he taught. He is that 
 truth, for he does not say, "I have the truth," but 
 ''I am the Truth;" and here, moreover, it is, that 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 209 
 
 his power as conqueror over the world lies. For, 
 think you that he could have drawn the world to 
 himself and subdued it, and brought it captive to his 
 feet, in the way he did, if he had merely taught the 
 truth, if he had merely held her up to the gaze of the 
 world, even though he had done so all his life up to 
 the moment in which he cried, "It is finished?" Do 
 you not yourselves feel what a difference there is 
 between the preacher who has the truth of which he 
 discourses merely in his books and in his memory, 
 and him who is himself the truth which he preaches ? 
 and yet in how very limited a sense can any of us 
 say, "We are in very deed the truth which we preach 
 to you." But this consideration leads me to another 
 doubt that might be raised as to the justice of his 
 claim. For it may be said, "Does it not belong to 
 the King of truth that he should have that power to 
 conquer which the possession of truth in its deepest 
 nature, in its most absolute being, imparts?" King 
 of truth! why hast thou not long ere now subdued 
 the world ? Why is the flock that owns the guidance 
 of thy rod ever only the "little flock?" And thus, 
 in answer to this objection, we must turn our glance 
 from the claim of this King of truth to the subjects 
 that own his sway. 
 
 We must turn our glance to the subjects of this 
 King. I do not know, my brethren, how it is with 
 you, but my own experience is, that since the glory 
 of God first began to shine upon me in the face of 
 Jesus Christ, I have felt no doubt assail me with 
 greater power, than the doubt regarding his royal 
 
210 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 rights, called forth bj the view of the miserably 
 small number of the subjects who own his supremacy 
 and bow the knee to him. Yet man is born for the 
 truth, yea he is made for Christ himself, and every 
 one that is in Christ can say with the most sober 
 assurance, " Man is truly man only when he is Chris- 
 tian." And now, when one looks on the eight hun- 
 dred millions of men who are without the pale of 
 Christianity, when within the Christian Church one 
 deducts all those confessions which are involved in 
 error; and again, in the true confession, those who 
 do not believe it; and, once more, among those who 
 confess well, those who do not live well — then, 
 thou King of truth, where is thy right to rule, since 
 thou hast been able to subjugate unto thyself only so 
 small a number? Let us, however, meanwhile simply 
 inquire, who is his subject, and how may a man 
 become his subject ? The consideration of this ques- 
 tion will dissipate the objection. 
 
 Who are his subjects? Wherefore should we con- 
 fine our view to one single section of the Christian 
 Church ? Are not all the divisions of the Church of 
 Christ just so many compartments and chambers in 
 the once great palace upon whose portals is written 
 the inscription, " There is no salvation, there is no 
 other name given among men whereby they can be 
 saved, but the name of Jesus Christ?" The same 
 light shines into all the chambers of that palace, 
 although it may fall more dimly into some and more 
 brightly into others. And wherever the confession, 
 "No salvation out of Christ!" is made, it is every- 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 211 
 
 where tlie same sun of grace that sheds down his 
 beams, although these may fall more straight into 
 some places, and more broken into others. It is ima- 
 gined that the different Churches of Christ have now 
 no longer anything in common? Or, is there not 
 still remaining a common confession in which all 
 Christians join ? is there not still the apostolic creed 
 which the humble peasants in the village churches 
 around Halle, equally with the worshippers in St. 
 Peter's at Rome, in which the sectarian chapels in 
 London and the cathedrals of St. Petersburg unite 
 and are as one ; and to which you also every Sunday 
 say Amen, in fellowship with the whole Christian 
 Church that is under heaven ? And are we not to call 
 men who find in this confession of faith in the Father, 
 the Son, and the Holy Ghost, their consolation in life 
 and their support in death — are we not to call these 
 men subjects of Christ? True, many among them 
 have failed to understand aright many of his com- 
 mandments. But he who in so far as he does under- 
 stand the laws of his king, obeys them, is surely a true 
 subject. Those who understand and do not obey, are, 
 indeed, none of his subjects; although here too we 
 must make a distinction between those who will not 
 obey and those who would obey, but cannot obey as 
 they would ; and to this class we all belong. Thus, 
 the number of his subjects is by no means so small; 
 fto emperor or king in Europe has more. The thought, 
 however, that causes sorrow to a Christian heart is, 
 that the number is so small compared with the multi- 
 tude of those who, both without the Christian Church 
 
212 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 and within her, disown the sovereignty of the King 
 of truth. But who is chargeable with this, at whose 
 door does the guilt lie? Let us listen to our text. 
 There the Redeemer concludes the words we have 
 been considering with that statement of infinite mo- 
 ment, "Every one that is of the truth heareth my 
 voice." What the intention of Jesus in using these 
 words is, is apparent; he would roll away from him- 
 self the guilt of a man like Pilate. "If thou see not 
 in me the King of truth, seek not to attribute the 
 guilt of thy blindness to me," he would say. Jesus 
 would thus throw ofi" himself all the guilt of the un- 
 belief of men, and their disobedience against his word. 
 The Lord mentions two conditions as indispensably 
 requisite to a man's recognizing in Christ the King of 
 truth. "He who is of the truth heareth, that is, 
 understandeth my voice." The voice must reach the 
 ear. That is the first thing he presupposes. And if 
 there are now upon the face of the earth eight hun- 
 dred millions of men whose ear the voice of the King 
 of truth has never reached, who is chargeable with 
 this ? Is it the fault of Christ ? Is it not rather your 
 fault, ye who are in the main indifierent to the cause 
 of missions, that noble sign of the vitality of a Church? 
 Alas, to such an extent are ye indifferent that in this 
 city of thirty thousand Christians, scarce five hundred 
 can be found to show so much interest in the cause as 
 to support it with their contributions, or to pray 
 together on its behalf. How many among the four 
 hundred theological students who carry on their stu- 
 dies here, how many might be found who have never, 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 213 
 
 up to this hour, laid seriously to heart what a duty of 
 love Christians owe to those eight hundred millions of 
 men ! How many of you pray with fervency and faith 
 that the kingdom of God may come ? If these mil- 
 lions of souls are to go through life without a Master 
 of truth, if they are to go down into the pit without a 
 Comforter in death, ! it will not be to Ms charge 
 that you can lay it. Charge rather yourselves with 
 it, you whose hearts are so poor in love ! 
 
 The other condition implied in these words of Christ 
 points out to us the way in which a man becomes a 
 subject of this kingdom. "He that is of the truths 
 heareth my voice." Thus, in whatever ear the voice 
 of the King of truth may sound, that voice can be 
 comprehended, can find its way to the heart, only of 
 him who is of the truth. With what a sacred moral 
 earnestness do these words appear to sit in judgment 
 upon man's unbelief and want of faith in Christ. You 
 have accustomed yourselves to look upon faith and 
 unbelief as a thing, regarding which no moral guilt 
 can be incurred, respecting which moral considerations 
 do not come into account at all. But in these words 
 it is brought home to your conscience, you are accused 
 of a want of a moral love of the truth. The fact that 
 you do not believe in Christ, arises from this want, 
 and it is charged upon you as the incurring of moral 
 guilt. You may think that to say this, is to go some- 
 what too far. What ! because a man does not believe 
 in the truth which appeared in Christ, is he on that 
 account to be regarded as having no love of truth at 
 all, and no afiinity with her? Yes, it is so. "To 
 19 
 
214 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 him that hath," saith the Lord in another place, 
 "shall be given." On the other hand, Plato, that 
 king of the wise of old, says, "Like draws to like." 
 
 You wonder, you are confounded ! What ! you ex- 
 claim, those men who were heroes in the empire of 
 universal knowledge, those men, whom, throughout 
 their whole life, the inextinguishable thirst for truth 
 consumed — were they not of the truth ? And yet, we 
 cannot change the word of the King of truth, we can 
 only echo what he says ; therefore we must affirm, that 
 whoever hows not the knee before the King of truth, 
 is not of the truth. You have not accustomed your- 
 selves, however, to contemplate in its right aspect, the 
 thirst for truth which characterized the heroes of 
 science. Was that, let me ask, always a thirst for 
 truth in the things of God ? It is preeminently and 
 principally in the things of God that Christ is the 
 king of truth, but how very far are we from being 
 able to assert, that all those men whom we honour as 
 investigators of science, were men who earnestly ap- 
 plied themselves to the inquiry after an answer to the 
 question. How men are to come to God, how a sinner 
 can become holy and be saved ? Even among you 
 students, how many might be found who are consumed 
 by a thirst after truth in all other things, but who 
 give no manifestation of being wasted by thirst for 
 another truth — for truth concerning what God is, 
 what Christ is, and in what way men may draw near 
 unto God. But how can those who never felt this 
 thirst be themselves that truth which recognizes in 
 Christ the King of truth? Further, let me ask, is it 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 215 
 
 merely an intellectual interest in religious truth that 
 is necessary in order to come up to what Christ here 
 requires ? Does he not say, " He that is of the truth, 
 that is born of the truth." You must be born of the 
 truth. The truth must be your mother. On her 
 breast it is that you are to drink into your being the 
 milk of life and of love. As children bear a resem- 
 blance to their mother, so men must be able to disco- 
 ver upon your features the lineaments of truth, and 
 say, " These are men whose mother is the truth of God, 
 and who draw from her the strength of their new life." 
 Thus constituted are the men who are of the truth. 
 It is only he who has set himself, with this holy ear- 
 nestness, to the task of stamping the image of divine 
 truth upon his life, who comes to understand how hard 
 a thing it is not merely to have the truth, but to he 
 of the truth. He alone it is, moreover, who longs for 
 a Redeemer. He alone it is who can know what that 
 sound from another world means, which is the voice 
 of the King of truth. 
 
 King of truth ! our deepest being thirsts after a 
 truth in divine things, which may not only illumine 
 our spirits, but may also enkindle our hearts, and rule 
 our life. King of truth! no other voice, we joyfully 
 own, has pierced to our inmost heart, like the sound 
 of thy voice. We doubt not of thy claim to rule. 
 Thou hast thyself ah^eady proved it to our souls ; and 
 although we are so unfaithful, yet are we surely still 
 thy subjects. ! do thou draw and allure us unto 
 thee, until we lie down at thy feet, entirely and for 
 ever subdued to heaven and to thee. Amen. 
 
216 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 THE COMMAND OF JESUS'. "WEEP NOT FOR ME, BUT FOR TOUR- 
 SELVES." 
 
 Luke xxiii. 26-31. — And as they led him away, they laid hold upon 
 one Simon, a Oyrenian, coming out of the country, and on him 
 they laid the cross, that he might bear it after Jesus. And there 
 followed him a great company of peojDle, and of women, which 
 also bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus, turning unto them, 
 said. Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for your- 
 selves, and for your children. For, behold, the days are coming, 
 in the which they shall say. Blessed are the barren, and the 
 wombs that never bare, and the paps which never gave suck. 
 Then shall they begin to say to the mountains. Fall on us ; and to 
 the hills. Cover us. For if they do these things in a green tree, 
 what shall be done in the dry ? 
 
 You have stood with your Lord before Pilate ; to-day 
 let us accompany him on his way to the cross. As 
 was the custom with those who had been sentenced to 
 death by crucifixion, the tree of shame, on which he 
 should die, is laid upon his own shoulders, and he 
 bears it to the gate of the city. But, enfeebled by 
 the load of sorrow he had endured, by the night- 
 long agony and soul-struggle in Gethsemane, by the 
 scourging and loss of blood, he is so faint that he 
 sinks to the ground under the burden. Meanwhile, a 
 man, who is returning from the fields, is laid hold of 
 by the soldiers, and compelled to take his place. 
 Possibly the man is of the followers of Jesus. In 
 silence, the Saviour marches on his weary way — his 
 eye fixed earnestly above, or turned thoughtfully 
 within; what is passing in his soul who may tell! 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 217 
 
 One word, however, he lets fall on his way to Cal- 
 vary; probably it was spoken at the moment when 
 his fast-failing strength awoke most strongly the pity 
 of the sympathizing women, by whom he was accom- 
 panied. We read in Luke xxiii. 26-31; "And as 
 they led him away, they laid hold upon one Simon, 
 a Cyrenian, coming out of the country, and on him 
 they laid the cross, that he might hear it after Jesus, 
 And there followed him a great company of people, 
 and of women, which also bewailed and lamented 
 him. But Jesus, turning unto them, said, Daugh- 
 ters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, hut weep for 
 yourselves, and for your children. For, hehold, the 
 days are coming, in the which they shall say, 
 Blessed are the harren, and the wombs that never 
 hare, and the breasts which never gave suck. Then 
 shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us; 
 and to the hills. Cover us. For if they do these 
 things in a green tree, what shall be done in the 
 dry?'' 
 
 Jesus did not pass away unwept. We find such as 
 Mary, Salome, Magdalene, John, standing under his 
 cross; and we may well imagine that those faithful 
 followers formed part of this sad procession, walking 
 along in tears and silent sorrow — yet, doubtless, at a 
 certain distance, for fear of the authorities. Here, 
 however, it is not these sympathizing spirits that come 
 before us ; they were from Galilee, whereas the parties 
 addressed here were daughters of Jerusalem. Among 
 them, possibly, there may have been seen the widow 
 who cast the mites into the treasury at the temple ; 
 19* 
 
118 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 Martha and Mary also, doubtless, and many more 
 who had belonged to him. What lesson is taught us 
 by the command to weep for ourselves at the sight of 
 the suffering Saviour? Let us consider what was 
 implied in those words, as addressed to the daughters 
 of Jerusalem, what is implied in them now, what they 
 will imply to all time. 
 
 "Weep not for me," exclaimed the Lord. It is not 
 that he would entirely forbid the shedding of all tears 
 of sympathy with him in his sorrow ; he rather means 
 to enjoin that no tears shall flow for him but such as 
 flow along with tears for the guilt of men. He does 
 not absolutely forbid their weeping for him ; he speaks 
 rather by comparison, as in a similar instance, where 
 it is said, "I will have mercy and not sacrifice:" that 
 is, I will much rather have mercy than sacrifice. 
 "You weep for me," he would say, "it is well; but I 
 would much rather have you weep for yourselves." 
 Tears might, and ought, to flow for him; but such 
 tears may speedily be dried again : weep. Christians, 
 weep for him, but you may soon dry your tears. For 
 he left the world that knew him not; that returned 
 him hatred for his love, and for his self-renouncing 
 goodness, the scourge and the cup mingled with gall. 
 The cross he bore shone around him, and from amid 
 its darkness a light inefi*able streamed forth. The 
 way to the cross was the way to the throne, where he 
 reigns now, and will reign for evermore. And there- 
 fore the Saviour cries to the children of his people, 
 " Since my crown of thorns is to become a crown of 
 glory — since my cross will be a throne of victory — 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 219 
 
 weep not for me, weep rather for yourselves.'' In the 
 one clause, he expresses the probability of the stripes 
 he looks for from the hand of God ; in the other, the 
 certainty. He expresses the probability of it in these 
 words, "If they do these things in a green tree, what 
 shall be done in the dry?" He is the green tree, the 
 tree of life, so full of sap and so fair in foliage, whose 
 fruit gives life to all who eat thereof; and now, when 
 men are coming to cut off its branches, and tear away 
 its leafy glory, and hew down its noble stem, who 
 does not every moment expect that a voice will 
 descend from heaven — Forbear, stay your hand! 
 But the sky above is voiceless and mute, darkness is 
 allowed to complete its work, and the Holy One of 
 God dies by the hand of murderers. 
 
 When an event like this takes place — when in a 
 way like this, innocence succumbs without Heaven 
 arming itself with lightnings in its defence — it not 
 unfrequently happens, that the workers of iniquity 
 wax bolder in their evil and say, " There is not a God 
 that judges in heaven." When, however, a prophet's 
 voice is heard sounding forth, and saying in the 
 strength of God, " What is bleeding there is suffering 
 Innocence, and every drop of blood it sheds will turn 
 to an accuser against you;'' then it is that, in fre- 
 quent cases, the consciousness of that law which has 
 struck so deep a root in the human heart, the con- 
 sciousness of retribution awakes, and an idea, dim 
 and dreadful, hovers over the soul of the evil-doers, 
 that every blow they give will one day return upon 
 their own head with tenfold fury. Therefore the 
 
220 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 Saviour says, "If^the God of judgment has not put 
 forth his hand to prevent innocence from being ex- 
 posed to such cruel sorrows, the contemplation of my 
 sufferings may teach you most unmistakeably to infer 
 of how much greater severity these sufferings will be, 
 which fall back upon those who have inflicted them." 
 But the Saviour speaks not of a 'probability merely. 
 No ; the veil of the future is raised from before his 
 eyes, and he sees with distinctness and certainty the 
 signs of the coming wrath. "Behold," he proceeds, 
 "the days are coming, in the which they shall say, 
 Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never 
 bare, and the breasts which never gave suck. Then 
 shall they begin to say to the mountains. Fall on us ! 
 and to the hills, Cover us!" Israel, foolish and 
 deceived, thus it will be that the blow wherewith thou 
 hast smitten the sacred head of the Holy One of God, 
 will fall back with tenfold fury upon thine own. Hap- 
 less nation, from that day forward on which that dark 
 deed shall have been committed, thou shalt have no 
 more a king, or a priest, no more a temple, no more a 
 fatherland. Then will come to pass what Moses pro- 
 phesied of old, " The Lord shall scatter thee among 
 all people, from the one end of the earth even unto 
 the other; and the Lord shall give thee there a trem- 
 bling heart, and failing of eyes, and sorrow of mind: 
 and thy life shall hang in doubt before thee : and thou 
 shalt fear day and night, and shalt have none assur- 
 ance of thy life." (Deut. xxviii. 64 — ^^.) This is 
 the fate to which the Saviour turned his eye when he 
 exclaimed, "Weep not for me, but weep for yourselves 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 221 
 
 and for jour children." And what sort of tears are 
 we to weep ? For there are so many kinds of tears in 
 the life of man. Weep — weep tears of anguish — 
 weep tears of sad presage — weep tears oi penitence! 
 
 Weep tears of anguish — that is, at the thought of 
 the greatness of the tribulation which is coming upon 
 you and upon your children! There were at that 
 moment, in the surrounding crowd, some who should 
 survive those days. Christ had said, ''Verily I say 
 unto you, there be some standing here who shall not 
 taste of death, till they see the kingdom of God come 
 with power." The greater number, however, were 
 not to see that day themselves, but their children 
 should. In other cases, at other times, men are wont 
 to call the unfruitful unblessed, and those who never 
 bare ; but in the times of those terrible judgments, 
 they shall say, "Blessed are the barren." For, as 
 Josephus, the national historian, informs us, there 
 never was a race whose distress could at all be com- 
 pared with the distress of Jerusalem, neither will there 
 ever be a people so oppressed as Israel was. And 
 thus Jesus cries, " Mothers, who love your children, 
 weep tears of anguish!" The blinded, God-forsaken 
 people had exclaimed, when Pilate delivered him into 
 their hands, " His tlood be on us, and on our chil- 
 dren." — Then they will receive what they imprecated 
 upon themselves, and his blood will come upon them 
 and upon their children like a torrent of devouring fire. 
 But it was not merely individuals that the calamity 
 was to overtake, it was not families merely; no, 
 destruction and ruin were denounced against the whole 
 
222 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 nation. The curse whicli follows swift upon tlie heels 
 of the fratricide, rendering insecure and treacherous 
 the ground beneath his feet, was let loose upon them. 
 Weep, then, tears of mournful presage, cries Jesus to 
 his people, at the thought of the greatness of the fall 
 of that nation which could once boast, "There is not 
 anj people like unto our nation, or any god like unto 
 our God." We are, all of us, beloved, not merely 
 individuals, not merely members of families; we must 
 feel ourselves to be more than this ; to be parts of one 
 great whole, members of one nation and of one church. 
 If we do not do this, it is because we fail in a want 
 of expansiveness of vision, because we are chained by 
 sense to the dust, and cannot rise above it. Thus the 
 mothers of Israel are to weep not only tears of an- 
 guish for their own children, but every one apart is to 
 weep tears of sad foreboding. For Israel was to be 
 no longer the keeper of the mysteries of God; she 
 was to loose that ornament by means of which she had 
 become a crown among the nations, and had come to 
 occupy that relation to them which the heart holds to 
 the other members of the body. But more than this : 
 Israel should be altogether erased from the roll of 
 independent nations: should henceforward have no 
 king, no priesthood, no temple, *and no fatherland ; 
 should dwell among all other peoples, and be herself 
 no people, scattered throughout all the earth, and yet 
 without a home ; confessing herself bound by the law 
 of Moses, yet without priest or sacrifice to atone for 
 her transgressions. You see all that now fulfilled, 
 and you are moved ; Israel has lived through it all, 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 223 
 
 and now that it has turned out so, she weeps tears of 
 bitter disappointment and sad regret. people of 
 Israel ! thou who once wast queen among the nations, 
 how do thy tears flow, even to this very hour, at the 
 thought that thou art fallen so low ! But wherefore 
 does the veil still remain before thine eyes, so that 
 thou canst not recognize the cause of thy fall? 
 Wherefore didst thou shed those tears of bitter regret 
 over thy fall, and yet canst weep no tears of peni- 
 tence ! 
 
 Weep tears o^ penitence, cried the Redeemer to the 
 men of that time. Perchance God might even then 
 draw back his outstretched arm, ere it struck the 
 fatal blow ; perchance he might even then recall the 
 avenging angel with his sword already unsheathed; 
 perchance he might even then cry, Hold, destroy not ! 
 We may conclude, that by some at least the Saviour's 
 call was obeyed, and penitential tears were shed, from 
 the fact that the vials of wrath were not entirely 
 poured forth. "Except those days should be short- 
 ened," says the Lord, "there should no flesh be 
 saved: but for the elect's sake those days shall be 
 shortened." But because only individuals shed those 
 tears of penitence which ought to have flowed from the 
 whole nation, the vials of wrath must be poured forth 
 upon Jerusalem. And thus she that was as a queen 
 among the nations, became as a servant : " She weep- 
 eth sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks.'* 
 (Lamentations of Jeremiah i. 2.) The people of the 
 Jews have not themselves forgotten the greatness of 
 their fall. On the contrary, they have carried with 
 
224 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 them so strong an impression of it, that they have 
 instituted a memorial of it in all things and for all 
 time. Thus, whenever they build a house, they always 
 have a portion of its walls, a yard in breadth, unplas- 
 tered ; on every festive occasion, room on the table for 
 one dish is left empty ; at every marriage-ceremony a 
 glass is broken ; and by this they signify that sorrow 
 for the fall of Jerusalem shall be felt along with every 
 joy. The anniversary of the day, on which the holy 
 city was precipitated from its elevation, is kept with 
 prayer and fasting; on that day no covered foot dare 
 enter the sanctuary, no refreshing water may moisten 
 their head or their hands; in the dust, on the naked 
 floor, they wail their songs of lamentation. Israel, 
 wherefore is it that ye rend your garments, and not 
 your hearts? The tears ye weep are only tears of 
 sorrow, tears of remorse — wherefore do ye not yet 
 shed those tears of repentance which your fathers 
 should have rained down years ago ? But, do we not 
 all the like? We bewail the consequences of our 
 sins, but not these sins themselves. We mourn over 
 the affliction and sufierings of our life, but we fail to 
 ask what has brought them upon us, and to what end 
 they are sent. The exclamation of our Lord, " Weep 
 not for me, but for yourselves," is applicable to men 
 in all times, because in every age and in every clime, 
 human nature is, on the whole, the same. And so 
 the words of our Lord are applicable also to us. 
 Therefore I repeat in your ears the words of Jesus. 
 As often as the picture of the suffering Redeemer 
 comes before your view, weep for liim^ because if 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 225 
 
 your heart is bound up, in love, witli him, you cannot 
 do otherwise then shed for him a kindred tear of 
 sympathy. But weep also for yourselves, weep at 
 the thought that it was at the hands of men that 
 Jesus suffered and died. Would you weep manly 
 tears by the cross of Christ, then let your tears for 
 his suffering be mingled with tears for the guilt of 
 men which caused these sufferings, and which was 
 discovered in them. Weep, men, tears of fore- 
 boding, tears of penitence, tears of sympathy, in the 
 view of the cross of Christ. 
 
 Congregation of Christians, weep tears of fore- 
 boding, as you contemplate the manifestation of the 
 reality of divine justice, which the authors of Christ's 
 suffering brought upon themselves. See ye not, how 
 the vials of the justice of God are emptied upon the 
 men who are ripe for judgment. See ye not, how 
 the tree, which has become thoroughly withered and 
 dry, is hewn down without mercy, and its branches 
 broken; how wherever the carcase is, there the eagles 
 of divine justice delay not to accomplish their work? 
 There are few things which make so powerful an 
 impression on the careless man, as when a lightning- 
 ilash of divine justice descends, and strikes a deadly 
 blow upon the head of the transgressor. Inasmuch 
 as we are now under a dispensation of forbearance, 
 the thunders of God go softly over the earth; and so 
 gentle is their voice that the ears of most men hear 
 them not. But there are times in which they fall 
 with such a force that even the deaf must hear. And 
 what an awaking then ensues ! From that you may 
 20 
 
226 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 infer what an awaking it will be, when the sea*son 
 of forbearance is gone by, and the day of the revela- 
 tion of divine justice breaks, Sinners ! who are still 
 under forbearance, know ye not that when others are 
 struck down with the flash of divine justice, their fall 
 is intended as a warning for you? Ye careless ones, 
 the downfall of Jerusalem is for you a gracious 
 admonitory sign written on the page of history ? See 
 ye not, then, that there is a righteousness of God, 
 which, although it may long retain its thunder, will 
 in the end let it fall, certainly, irresistibly fall, upon 
 the head of the guilty? Careless men, weep tears 
 of foreboding for yourselves, as ye contemplate the 
 fall of Jerusalem, for herein is disclosed to you what 
 guilt is incurred by the man who persists in despis- 
 ing his Saviour. Others have already uttered the 
 woeful cry, "Mountains, fall on us! hills, cover us!" 
 And he who does not take warning in time, will even 
 in eternity have to cry out, "Mountains, fall on us! 
 hills, cover us!" 
 
 Weep for yourselves tears of penitence ! For us ? 
 and wherefore ? Have we smitten the Saviour's back 
 with scourges, have we loaded him with insult, have 
 we nailed him to the accursed tree? Have not the 
 Jews done all this? Yes, the Jews did it, but in the 
 Jews, mankind did it. Mankind, the whole human 
 race, sinned in the Jews, and in them we incurred the 
 guilt; for we bear in our bodies the same flesh and 
 blood, the same lust and hate, and from Adam we are 
 members of the same body with them. Do not 
 deceive yourselves ! When we contemplate our own 
 
SUFFERINaS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 227 
 
 actions and those of others, with a view to make a dis- 
 tinction between them, we can doubtless point to one 
 action as being ours, and to another as being our 
 neighbour's. It may then appear to us as if there 
 were no connecting bond between them, and as if 
 every one had merely his own burden to bear. But 
 it is not, it cannot be so. Our feelings, and indeed 
 even our reason, tell us another story. Is not the 
 man of our country, who has achieved some deed of 
 renown — is he not the pride of the whole nation and 
 of ourselves? and that member of a family who has 
 covered himself with ignominy, is he not a load upon 
 our own heart? This feeling is surely not a wrong 
 one. On the contrary, it is right and proper, because 
 they are men, and whether united to us by the ties of 
 family or relation, or merely bound to us by a com- 
 mon descent from Adam, they are still, in a greater 
 or less degree, our blood-relations. 
 
 Hast thou a fallen brother? 
 
 Boast not thyself as free. 
 The guilt that stains another, 
 
 Shares he it not with thee ? 
 
 Because it is mankind that has fallen, it is human 
 nature in which all sinners participate. Mankind is 
 to feel in common whatever great or noble thing it 
 has produced, for by men that great and noble thing 
 was achieved. When Christ performed miracles, it is 
 said, as we read, the people praised God *^who had 
 given such power to men," to men, we read, not to 
 one man. At Christmas we celebrate, by a solemn 
 
228 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 festival, the fact that a Christ was born into humanity. 
 And thus, too, the whole of mankind must feel in 
 common the sins which mankind has sinned; and 
 men must weep that it should have been men who 
 nailed this Christ to the cross. Yes, on this account 
 will I be penitent for the iniquities which men have 
 perpetrated upon the Holy One of God; for it was 
 mi/ human nature, mt/ unbelief, m^ hardness of heart, 
 it was the carnality that dwells in niT/ breast that 
 brought him to the cross. And therefore will I sit 
 down beneath his cross, and there shed penitential 
 tears. I will weep to think that that human nature, 
 which dwells also in me, should have become so deeply 
 corrupted, that it could so shamefully outrage the 
 Saviour of men. Ye tender-hearted souls, which on 
 Good-Friday shed tears of compassion over the sor- 
 rows of a righteous man, 0, let it be manly tears that 
 ye shod ! And the tears of Good-Friday are manly 
 tears only when tears over human guilt are mingled 
 with those that flow at the contemplation of His suf- 
 ferings. 
 
 Finally, weep tears of sympathy for that people 
 which was in this case the instrument of the sin of 
 mankind. A barbarous age regarded that unhappy 
 race as the murderers of the Saviour, and acknow- 
 ledging the curse under whose burden to this hour 
 they groan, imagined that it was its part to deal with 
 redoubled force the blows with which the Divine jus- 
 tice had visited them. We have seen, through the 
 public prints, that even in our own times this German 
 people are capable of similar feelings of hatred and 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 229 
 
 revenge. But to seek to take liuman revenge upon 
 the guilty one upon whom God has poured out his 
 vials of wrath, and laid his heavy hand — can such 
 an idea occur to any but one who is entirely neg- 
 ligent of the duty of examining his own heart? 
 Christians ! surely no other feeling but one of sympa- 
 thy for those whom God hath smitten is becoming in 
 us; for we mourn and weep at the cross of Christ, to 
 think that it was men who slew the Holy One of God, 
 and because we feel that the same human nature, with 
 all its sins and lusts, dwells in our own breast. It 
 was indeed God who spoke at the fall of Jerusalem, 
 and he spoke with the voice of a Judge, and the whole 
 world heard his voice, and he said, "Now have I taken 
 my Spirit away from them. Once I had hid them 
 under the shadow of my hand as my dear children, 
 but now I have withdrawn my right hand from them, 
 and the branches of that noble olive tree are hewn 
 down, that others may be grafted in. And who, feel- 
 ing and owning that it is to grace alone that he owes 
 it, if in their place he has been grafted in, can do 
 otherwise than tremble for himself, can do otherwise 
 than pray for them. What! would we take ven- 
 geance on them, instead of praying for them? The 
 words of the Lord which form our text call upon every 
 Christian man to bestow his sympathy upon the Jew, 
 upon whom the hand of Divine justice lies so heavily. 
 For behold Christ himself bestowing it on them. He, 
 whose back, already torn with scourges, they load 
 with the heavy cross, forgetful of his own pain, thinks 
 with sympathizing sorrow of the tribulation coming 
 20* 
 
230 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 upon his tormentors; and are we to avenge, instead 
 of praying? brethren, are the words that Paul 
 spoke in his time not in force till this day, "Because 
 of unbelief, they were broken off; and thou standest 
 by faith. Be not high-minded, but fear!'' No! 
 what becomes us in our treatment of the descendants 
 of those who nailed the Saviour to the cross, is cer- 
 tainly not arrogance and high-mindedness. We should 
 rather look on them with tears of alarm, and then, 
 turning our eye within upon ourselves, remember that 
 a day may come when, in our case also, the forbear- 
 ance of God may be turned to anger. We should 
 contemplate them with tears of penitence, and weep 
 to think that sin has so great a power over man. We 
 should regard them with tears of sympathy, since our 
 Saviour, even in the midst of his own great sorrow, 
 has not withheld from them such tears. 
 
 Christians, let me once more call upon you to 
 weep — shed manly tears in the contemplation of the 
 sufferings of your Redeemer; weep, so that with your 
 tears over his sufferings, tears over your own guilt 
 may mingle ! Amen. 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 231 
 
 SERMON YIII. 
 
 THE PRATER OF JESUS: "FATHER, FORGIVE THEM, FOR THEY 
 KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO." 
 
 Luke xxiii. 33-35. — And when they were come to the place which 
 is called Calvary, there they crucified him, and the malefactors, 
 one on the right hand, and the other on the left. Then said Jesus, 
 Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. And they 
 parted his raiment, and cast lots. And the people stood beholding : 
 and the rulers also with them derided him, saying. He saved 
 others; let him save himself, if he be Christ, the chosen of God." 
 
 Disciples of tlie Lord : — You have been accompany- 
 ing your Master to the cross ; you have heard how, 
 even on that way, words of compassionate love flowed 
 from his gracious lips. Listen to him this day as he 
 speaks to us from the cross itself. The seven sayings 
 of the Redeemer on the cross shall form henceforth 
 the subject of our meditations. And if some of you 
 have remained till now unimpressed by the words of 
 the living, 0, be not indifi'erent to the words of your 
 dying Lord ! You are wont to listen full of reverence / 
 to the words of a dying man : what Christian will not 
 hearken when it is his dying Saviour who speaks to ' 
 him ? thou exalted Lord and Saviour ! thou hast 
 said, " I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all 
 men unto me." Now art thou lifted up, lifted up far 
 above the cross, to the throne of thy heavenly Father. 
 Draw us unto thee ; draw us this very day ! 
 
 The first saying on the cross we read in the words 
 which follow our last meditation, Luke xxiii. 33 — 35 : 
 
232 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 ''And when they were come to the place, which is 
 called Calvary, {the place of a skull,) there they cru- 
 cified him, and the malefactors, one on the right 
 hand, and the other on the left. Then said Jesus, 
 leather, forgive them ; for they know not what they 
 do. And they parted his raiment, and cast lots. 
 And the people stood beholding. And the rulers also 
 with them derided him, saying. He saved others ; let 
 him save himself, if he he Christ, the chosen of GrodS^ 
 When the Redeemer spoke these words, the work of 
 crucifixion had not yet been completed. This we 
 gather from the fact that he does not say, "They 
 know not what they have done,'' but, " They know not 
 what they do.'' His arms have already been stretched 
 upon the beam of torture : his hands have been bound 
 to the wood with ropes; they are now about to be 
 pierced with nails, and the feet likewise. Meanwhile 
 the soldiers who are sitting by, cast lots for his 
 clothes. There the people stand looking on ; here the 
 rulers stand mocking. What a scene is this ! It is 
 as though one saw a lunatic laughing and sporting 
 beside the corpse of his benefactor, whose blood, in 
 unhallowed madness, he had that moment shed! 
 Surely whoever requires a proof that sin is hlind may 
 find one here. It is something very frightful to see 
 a whole nation in the act of commencing to perpetrate 
 a deed, which, so long as it shall have a name upon 
 the earth, will brand it with infamy in the eyes of men, 
 and mark it with a curse before God, and all the while 
 there is not one among them all that knows what they 
 do I This was literally true ; for not even the disci- 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 233 
 
 pies, however much they knew of the Saviour, were 
 in a condition to measure the full significance of what 
 there took place. There was only One, who knew, in 
 all its import, what was then going forward : the man 
 upon the cross himself. We are oppressed by the 
 thought; it descends upon us like a spiritual ban. 
 But there breathes upon us from the cross, like a gen- 
 tle gale to soothe and to soften us, that utterance of 
 the crucified Saviour, "Father, forgive them, for they 
 know not what they do." We shall unfold a little 
 the thoughts of the Kedeemer when he said these 
 words, and the thoughts which they are fitted to call 
 forth in us. 
 
 The thoughts of the Redeemer when he said these 
 words. The first thought is, that humanity never 
 committed a more grievous crime than that which 
 those men are committing. And together with that 
 thought there rises before his eye what mitigates 
 their guilt. Finally, he thinks to what extent their 
 sin can be forgiven, and in how far it is retained. 
 
 The thought is . before his soul, that never has 
 humanity committed a more grievous crime. The 
 pitying sorrow of the Redeemer has shown us already 
 how great he thought the guilt which they were heap- 
 ing upon themselves. Remember the tears he wept 
 on his entrance into Jerusalem. It is but rarely that 
 even a tender-hearted man can bring himself to shed 
 tears over the guilt of others; but Jesus wept over 
 the guilt of Jerusalem. Then, recollect how, when 
 he lay under the burden of the cross, he spoke of a 
 load which would fall upon them like a mountain. 
 
234 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 But the strongest proof that he regarded their guilt 
 as something extraordinary, is seen in the fact, that 
 he could, in such an hour as this, forget his own 
 sorrow, in order to think of their guilt. Consider, 
 too, that he alone could comprehend that guilt in all 
 its proportions, and in all its relations. Who that 
 Man was, whom those wicked hands nailed to the 
 cross — this was known then in its magnitude by no 
 one — is scarcely known now, for "no man knoweth 
 the Son, but the Father." No man knew then 
 whence he came, or whither he went, what he bore 
 in himself, or what he brought mankind. He himself 
 alone knew all this, and therefore he alone knew all 
 that was implied in the fact, that the hands of men 
 had outraged such a Man as this. And he knew this 
 guilt in its relations — in its connection with man's his- 
 tory upon earth, in its connection with the world of 
 spirits. It was only he, who could cast his eye over 
 the long chain of manifestations of Divine grace, of 
 which he was himself the consummation. He alone 
 could look back to the first tints of light, which had 
 appeared on the horizon of prophecy, thousands of 
 years before, and could trace how that light had ever 
 become clearer and clearer, until at length the Sun of 
 Righteousness, which it heralded and foretold, arose 
 upon the world. Again, his eye alone could pierce 
 into the spiritual world, and there perceive the powers 
 of darkness celebrating the triumphs of darkness 
 around his cross. "Now is the hour of darkness," 
 he said; "now the prince of this world cometh, but 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OP CHRIST. 235 
 
 he has nothing in me." He alone knew their guilt in 
 all its breadth, in all its heighth, in all its depth. 
 
 But at the same time, there arises before his soul 
 the thought of what mitigates their guilt. Behold 
 here again the pitying heart of Jesus! In the endu- 
 rance of the most painful sufferings at the hands of 
 his enemies, in circumstances where, as one might 
 think, even a righteous man would have thought it 
 right, to think of nothing but their guilt itself, not of 
 that by which the guilt was extenuated. See how 
 even here his compassionate soul thinks of that! 
 And what is that which extenuates their guilt? Is it 
 that the transgressors were so utterly blind? And 
 can it be said that this obscuration of spiritual sense 
 formed a ground of extenuating their crime, of dimin- 
 ishing their guilt? And shall it be said, that those 
 men who, in cold blood, are nailing to the cross the 
 hands from which only blessings had flowed; these 
 others, who, in their folly and insensibility, are cast- 
 ing dice even at the foot of the cross; that third 
 party, who look on cold and unmoved; and a fourth 
 who blaspheme — what! shall the fact of their igno- 
 rance and indifference form the very ground of their 
 excuse? 
 
 My friends, this very deadness and dullness of 
 heart is itself a sin. Wherever a similar insensibility, 
 to that which the people round the cross of Christ 
 exhibited, is displayed, it goes up to heaven as a loud 
 and clamant accusation. And yet I say not the less, 
 that this kind of blindness is, in a certain aspect, a 
 ground of palliation of the offence, and the Saviour 
 
236 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 may still pray for pardon, even for men wlio are so 
 obtuse and so dark. For surely the case had been 
 very different, their crime had been far more awful, 
 if he had had to say, "They know what they do!" 
 Is the crime equally heinous, when the drunken son, 
 who cannot recognize his father and benefactor, 
 rushes forward, and — 0, horrid thought! — in his 
 drunken frenzy, plunges into his body the murderous 
 knife ; and when a son, in calm, sober deliberateness, 
 deals the parricidal blow? The alleviation is a sad 
 one, I allow; but still an alleviation it is, when the 
 voice of the Judge is able to say, " They know not what 
 they do." Is it then true, that in this instance they 
 know not what they do? In reply to this we say, 
 only in very different degrees can ignorance of what 
 they were doing' be predicated of these different par- 
 ties to this crime. Thus, for example, the Roman 
 soldiers, who had possibly never heard him speak, 
 were merely the blind instruments by which the will 
 of their superiors was executed. We see, moreover, 
 that even among them there must have been hearts 
 with human sympathies and feelings, for did not the 
 centurion exclaim, as the last faint ray of dying light 
 fell from the eye of the Crucified into his heart, 
 "Verily, this was a righteous man!" Then the peo- 
 ple acted, to a certain extent, in ignorance ; the priests 
 had persuaded them that a sacrifice well-pleasing to 
 God was here offered up. Many of them, doubtless, 
 stood there with a similar belief, that they were 
 engaged in a good work — to that which the women 
 had, who brought faggot upon faggot to the pile where 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 237 
 
 the martyr Huss was burnt. Thus, too, the rulers of 
 the people were not fully conscious of what they did; 
 nor was even the high-priest, although he had cer- 
 tainly spoken against the testimony of his own con- 
 science, when he said, "He is guilty of death." In 
 some degree, it could be said of all, even of Caiaphas, 
 that they knew not what they did ; even Caiaphas knew 
 it not, for he was far too common a sinner to be able 
 clearly to understand the import of the crime he com- 
 mitted. He who knew better than any of them what 
 he had done, was Judas, and for Judas the Lord has 
 no prayer for pardon to offer ; of Judas he must say, 
 "Better were it for him that he had never been born." 
 But there was a long gradation of wickedness and 
 guilt from Caiaphas to Judas ; and again there was a 
 long way from Caiaphas down to the blinded multi- 
 tude, and the unquestioning servants of the law. The 
 guilt of the one and of the other, can, as I have already 
 said, be measured by no one but by Him who holds in 
 his hands the line of eternal justice. The all-seeing 
 eye alone can know the thousand unseen threads by 
 which circumstances and human transgression are 
 linked together, which connect error with sin; and, 
 on the other hand, the guilt of one man with that of 
 another : the all-seeing eye alone knows likewise what 
 measure of guilt attached to each individual in the 
 deed of blackness which was done at Golgotha — that 
 there are degrees of wickedness as well as of respon- 
 sibility; and that even the weakest of all judges — a 
 Pilate for instance — is not accounted guiltless. This 
 is a truth which the Saviour himself expresses in the 
 21 
 
238 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 presence of Pilate, "Thou couldst have no power at 
 all against me except it were given thee from above : 
 therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath the 
 greater sin." And yet they had all, more or less, 
 perhaps only with the exception of Judas, the benefit 
 of the prayer, " They know not what they do." This 
 thought might, to a certain extent, serve to calm the 
 troubled heart of the Saviour, as it calms our own. 
 Only imagine, for a moment, that it had been other- 
 wise, and that all of them had set about the work of 
 infamy like Judas, with open eyes and conscience 
 unobscured; and then picture to yourselves the scene 
 as before the cross — the dice, the gazing multitude, 
 the scoffing. No! it could never be tolerated, for 
 then they that stood round the cross were no longer 
 men — but an army of devils. 
 
 "Father, forgive them, for they know not what 
 they do." Yes, there is a touching mildness in this 
 petition, which strikes one at the first glance ; but 
 have you ever duly considered what a deep, sacred 
 earnestness there is in it at the same time? In 
 speaking of a sin which may be forgiven^ is there no 
 reference to another kind of guilt, which cannot be 
 forgiven, which is retained ? To what length does 
 his petition for forgiveness go? It reaches only as 
 far as their ignorance reached, according to the vari- 
 ous degrees of it. By these words, the Lord shows, 
 that there is a condition which renders the forgiveness 
 of sin impossible — that there is a sin for the pardon 
 of which he will not pray. In so far as their sin 
 was committed with knowledge, he cannot pray for 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 239 
 
 its forgiveness. This is the awful side of those 
 gracious words of Christ. Sin committed without 
 better knowledge is still sin ; it is still something that 
 should find no place in man, which is where it ought 
 not to be, and therefore it stands in need of the grace 
 of God, it refuses to be forgiven ; but such sin can be 
 and is pardoned, even before it is repented of, in the 
 sense of the word which Paul spoke to the Athenians, 
 " The times of your ignorance God overlooked." The 
 hour in which God requires men to repent has arrived, 
 only when a knowledge of the sins imparted, as in 
 the same passage Paul says, "But now he command- 
 eth all men everywhere to repent." But the commis- 
 sion of wilful sin is itself a declaration that the sin- 
 ner will not repent, at all events will not in that 
 moment when he sins, for if he would repent he would 
 do so ere even the deed was done. And therefore, 
 for wilful and deliberate sins, there is no prayer for 
 pardon, until repentance has first awoke within the 
 breast, and ah ! how hard is it to awake the heart to 
 repentance, when her voice has already been, once 
 and again, rudely put to silence. The clearer the 
 knowledge with which the sin is committed, the more 
 difiicult will it be to repent, and the more impossible 
 to obtain forgiveness. Every deliberate transgression 
 is only an inferior degree of that sin concerning which 
 it is written, that it will never be forgiven, either in 
 this life or in the life to come — the sin against the Holy 
 Ghost. And wherefore can that sin not be forgiven? 
 Because it renders the heart so hard, that no beam of 
 the light of God can ever soften it again, no flash of 
 
240 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 the love of God ever make it tremble. For, as we 
 read in the epistle to the Hebrews, "it is impossible 
 for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted 
 of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the- 
 Holy Ghost, and have tasted the powers of the world 
 to come, if they shall fall away, to renew them again 
 unto repentance, seeing they crucify to themselves 
 the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame." 
 (Heb. vi. 4 — 6.) The more distinctly thou knowest 
 it, the more difficult will repentance be, and the harder 
 it is to repent, the more impossible it is to be forgiven. 
 The Lord has no prayer for forgiveness to present on 
 behalf of Judas, because Judas knew what he did, 
 and all we read of him is, "It had been good for that 
 man if he had not been born." Now, in so far as the 
 sins committed at Golgotha were wilfully and know- 
 ingly committed, the judgment of God has, even in 
 time, overtaken them. Judas, who better than any of 
 them knew what he had done, fell the victim of his 
 own remorse. The many sins of knowledge which 
 brought Jesus to the cross were visited with judgment 
 in time, in those days when the temple of Jerusalem 
 was burnt up with fire. And yet even in those days 
 of horror, the prayer, "Father, forgive them," for 
 their sins of ignorance sake, was heard. For, as Paul 
 exclaims, " God hath not wholly cast away his peo- 
 ple" — and thus a day of salvation is yet in store for 
 Israel. my brothers! you dare not make light of 
 sin, for there are sins for which the Saviour asks no 
 forgiveness. 
 
 You see, then, what were the thoughts which filled 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 241 
 
 the Saviour's mind when he spoke the words of our 
 text, and those words call forth the same thoughts in 
 us. Arise then, ye sinners that are at ease, arise 
 and acknowledge, 
 
 1. That beneath the cross of Christ men act in the 
 same loay now as they did then ; and, 
 
 2. That now as then it is true of these sinners 
 beneath the cross, that they partly know not what 
 they do, and partly know what they do ; so that 
 their sins are in part forgiven, and in part retained. 
 
 Beneath the cross of Christ men act in the same 
 way now as they did then. We stand and cry out 
 against the wickedness and obtuseness of the Jews 
 beneath the cross, and we do not recollect that, unto 
 this very day, everything they did is repeated and 
 acted over again by those who call themselves 
 Christ's disciples. For to this day. Christians nail 
 their Saviour to the cross, and if they pierce not his 
 hands and his feet, still they pierce his heart. Do 
 you inquire, who does this ? Ye do it, you who have 
 not even strength enough in his name, and by looking 
 up to him, to combat and to shun the commission of 
 known sins. let us not deceive ourselves in this 
 matter — think, how wide in our lives, is that sphere 
 over which known sins have sway. Probably no one 
 will be found, who, with clear knowledge and deli- 
 berate will, consents to do what his conscience con- 
 demns; but, I ask you, are there many here who can 
 render to themselves this testimony, that they never 
 give the lie to their conscience, never apply to it a 
 sleeping-draught, never seek to put off their con- 
 21* 
 
242 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 science with excuses and self-justifications, to which 
 they themselves do not seriously give credit ? And if 
 you have done this, you are guilty of wilful sins, and 
 your wilful sins are the nails which pierce the heart 
 of your Redeemer. But to go further : what a multi- 
 tude of Christians are there up to this very day, who 
 stand and stare beneath the cross, without being sen- 
 sible of an emotion or a thought. Surely they 
 think and feel nothing there; for if they did, would 
 not the first thought and feeling be one that would 
 arise with a power in their souls, mighty enough to 
 change and transform their whole life? Would not 
 their first thought be this: "What am I doing for 
 Him who has done so much for me?" Further: I see 
 that now, as in those days, men can sport and jest, 
 can throw dice and play cards at the foot of the 
 cross, without ever thinking on that cross and on Him 
 who, for man's sin, hung bleeding there. Ye old 
 men, ye young men, say, is your Christianity one 
 which carries with it into all the occupations, into all 
 the pleasures and recreations of life, the thought of 
 the cross of Christ? Or, are you of those whose 
 gaity would become mute, whose joy would grow pale, 
 if the thought or the name of the cross of Christ were 
 once intruded upon it? Christians, do not forget that 
 no sport or jest or pleasure can stand in the sight of 
 God, where one must first cast out of one's mind the 
 thought of the cross of Christ before one can be 
 happy. — Finally: To this very day men are capable 
 of mocking beneath the cross. The scofi'er still 
 re-echoes the taunt, "He saved others, himself he 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 243 
 
 cannot save." Ah, has he no idea of a Love which 
 came into the world, not to be ministered unto, but to 
 minister; has he no idea that this is just the spiritual 
 crown and glory of Christ, that he who had saved 
 others, would not save himself. that this medita- 
 tion on the sufferings of Christ may not be fruitless 
 to any of us ! Christians, it is not at the Jews that 
 we should be confounded, when we beheld them 
 gaming and mocking by the cross of Christ; it is 
 rather our own Christian people that should put us to 
 shame, and our own selves in so far as we are par- 
 takers in their sin ! 
 
 Yes, let us be amazed and confounded at ourselves, 
 because it is true of us now, as it was of the Jews 
 then : in part we know not what we do ; in part, again, 
 we do know what we do; hence it is true of us, that 
 our sins are partly forgiven us ; partly, however, are 
 they retained before God. Partly the benefit of these 
 words is put down to our account; we know not 
 what we do. You have not belonged to that happy 
 number who learn in infancy to lisp their Saviour's 
 name ; perhaps you never once in your life saw your 
 fathers bend their knees in prayer; your pastors were 
 wont to preach the imaginations of their own heart, 
 instead of the thoughts of the heart of God; in the 
 whole wide circle of your acquaintance you did not 
 possess a single friend who bore you on his heart in 
 intercession before God. And if, in these circum- 
 stances, you can look upon your dying Lord without 
 feeling your heart burn within you, if you can even 
 pursue your own pleasure at the foot of that very 
 
244 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 cross on which the Son of God is giving up his life 
 for you, then it may be said of you, " Ye know not 
 what ye do." Remember, however, this very igno- 
 rance on your part is guilty in the sight of God ! 
 Were not our sins of ignorance still sins — even 
 although they may be pardonable sins — would the 
 Lord have occasion to pray for their forgiveness? 
 That ye know not what ye do, is possible ; but, I ask 
 you, might you not have known it? No one has 
 pointed out to you where you might find the pearl of 
 great price — no one has presented that pearl to you, 
 and held it up before you in the sun, and shown you 
 its brightness and its purity; but have you never 
 heard of a certain merchant, who went forth himself 
 in search of pearls, and who, when he had found one 
 of rare and costly beauty, went and sold all that he 
 had, and bought that pearl of great price? They 
 have not brought the pearl to you, but why have you 
 not gone out to seek it on the market-place of life? 
 See, it is this want of longing after salvation, this 
 being content to feed your immortal soul on husks, 
 this it is that condemns you. You belong to those 
 sinners who sin in ignorance ; but you belong also to 
 those who might have known, had they chosen. Still, 
 for you the Saviour prayed. And if ye will only 
 now, if ye will in this moment, when the pearl of 
 great price is held before you, stretch forth your hand 
 and take it, if ye will sell all that ye have to buy this 
 pearl, then doubtless will the benefit of these words 
 of Paul be given to you, " The times of this ignorance 
 God hath overlooked." And for you the Saviour on 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 245 
 
 tlie cross hath prayed. But according to the measure 
 of your knowledge of what you did ; in so far as the 
 pearl was held up before you, and its beauty pointed 
 out to you, and you refused it; if the tears of your 
 parents, the sighs of your teachers, the uplifted hands 
 of your pastors, rise up as witnesses against you ; and 
 if all these cry out against you, " We are innocent 
 of their blood — their blood come not on us, but on 
 their own heads ; if such be 7/our case, alas for you ! 
 For the Lord asks no forgiveness for those who sin 
 wilfully — who sin against their better knowledge. 
 How much harder it has become for you to repent 
 and be converted now than it was before ! The more 
 reckless and persistent the course of sin is, the harder 
 does the heart become; the greater the hardness of 
 heart, the more difficult is repentance ; the more diffi- 
 cult repentance, the more impossible is forgiveness. 
 that this prayer of the Lord, which prays with 
 such graciousness for those who sin through ignor- 
 ance, may recall, with solemn earnestness, to the 
 minds of all here present, the fact, that there are sins 
 for which, even in this life, the Saviour does not 
 pray, and which are retained even until the sinner 
 comes to repentance ; and yet every step he takes 
 makes his repentance all the more arduous, and all 
 the more hopeless. How do these words on the cross 
 call to us, in God's name, not to make light of sin ! 
 0, what a serious thing sin must be, if all sins of 
 knowledge are retained before God, and if even our 
 sins of ignorance stand in need of pardon ! 
 
 cross of Christ! thou rock for the falling and 
 
246 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 the rising of many, thou tree of life, and thou tree of 
 damnation ! — tree of life for sinners through ignor- 
 ance, tree of damnation for all those who sin against 
 Thee and know what they do — ! may the day never 
 come when it shall be said of so much as one of us, 
 " it had been better for that man if he had not been 
 born, for in sinning he knew what he did!" 
 Saviour of love, grant that when our dying hour shall 
 come, the prayer of thy dying hour may be heard for 
 us ! Amen. 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 CHRIST AND THE PENITENT THIEF. 
 
 Luke xxiii. 39-43. — And one of the malefactors which were hanged 
 railed on him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us. But 
 the other, answering, rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, 
 seeing thou art in the same condemnation ? And we indeed justly; 
 for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done 
 nothing amiss. And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember mo 
 when thou comest into thy kingdom. And Jesus said unto him* 
 Verily I say unto thee, to-day shalt thou be with me in paradise. 
 
 Beloved in the Lord : — We are engaged in the con- 
 templation of the seven sayings of the Redeemer on 
 the cross. It is as if, in these seven sayings, seven 
 doors of his soul were opened before us, through 
 every one of which a different brightness pours, to 
 call up each a different emotion in our heart. From 
 the first of them the graciousness of pardon beamed 
 forth upon us, to calm and pacify our perturbed and 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 247 
 
 distracted spirit. To-day througli another open door 
 stream forth the serenity and majesty of the Saviour, 
 even in his deep humiliation. Soon will the ^'Eloi, 
 Eloi, lama sabachthani," sound in our ear, and we 
 shall experience how deep the abyss of sorrow was, 
 into which, from love to us, the Lord descended. We 
 read to-day, in Luke xxiii. 39 — 43, the words: ''And 
 one of the malefactors which were hanged, railed on 
 Mm, saving, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us. 
 But the other, answering, rebuked him, saying, 
 Dost not thou fear Grod, seeing thou art in the 
 same condemnation 9 And we indeed Justly ; for we 
 receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man 
 hath done nothing amiss. And he said unto Jesus, 
 Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy king- 
 dom. And Jesus said unto him. Verily I say unto 
 thee, to-day shalt thou be with me in paradise!'' 
 
 What an occurrence is this ! Who would have ex- 
 pected such a scene on such a stage, on that very 
 stage where blindness is showing itself in its deepest 
 obscuration, and obtuseness in its most revolting ob- 
 duracy? One might have expected to have seen the 
 light of majesty break forth from amid the Saviour's 
 humiliation beneath the cross, and this takes place 
 upon the cross itself. Is there, then, beneath the 
 cross, among those four or five thousand souls, not 
 one that wakes, is there not so much as one among 
 those hard hearts that becomes soft ? No ; beneath 
 the cross there was not one, but upon the cross itself 
 there was one. Here too is human expectation de- 
 ceived. Behold the two-fold scene which our text 
 
248 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 displays : it represents the repose and majesty of pie 
 Redeemer in his deei^est humiliation^ and at the same 
 time the penitence and faith of a simmer in his last 
 moments. This calm tranquillity of the Lord, and 
 this penitence of the malefactor, are equally well 
 fitted to make us tremble. God, our heavenly 
 Father ! help us to humble our proud hearts under 
 thy word! 
 
 Let us contemplate the repose and majesty of the 
 Redeemer even in his deepest abasement. They had 
 placed the crown of thorns on his head, they had 
 scourged his back, had spat upon his face, had bound 
 his hands, they had nailed him to the cross between 
 two malefactors. That he must breathe his last be- 
 tween malefactors, he himself characterizes as the 
 lowest stage of his appearing in the form of a servant. 
 This too, as he says at another place, must be ful- 
 filled: he is numbered with the transgressors. But it 
 seems as if even here a deeper degradation awaits 
 him: even among those transgressors, he becomes the 
 object of scorn and insult. You have read it many a 
 time, but perhaps you have never thought what this 
 implies. A malefactor, a common criminal, saying in 
 the face of the Christ, " Brother, thou too art as I am ! 
 I have played a dangerous game, and so hast thou; 
 thou wouldst play the king of Israel — thou seest now 
 what comes of it, when one aims too high!" holy 
 Majesty, where are then thy lightnings, and if thou 
 hide them, where is then the thunder of thy speech ! 
 King of Heaven, deeper in thy humiliation couldst 
 thou not have gone down ! But even then Jesus suf- 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 249 
 
 fers and is silent. How does this silent tranquillity 
 act with the power of a heavenly charm upon the 
 spirit. Let us once more humble ourselves before 
 him, once more here, as he stands on the lowest plat- 
 form of ignominy. my brother, I too have a heart 
 of flesh and blood, and I know what it is to permit 
 one's honour to be trodden under foot by brute force 
 or blind malevolence, and yet, even in such circum- 
 stances I call upon you, in view of the calmness of 
 Jesus : Avenge not yourselves, but commit yourselves 
 to him that judgeth rightly ! all ye hearts to whom 
 honour is a thing of value, you may look down on 
 those who do not feel that honour is a possession, a 
 possession too for which a man must be willing to 
 stake something — but at the same time you must look 
 up when you contemplate him, who, although his is 
 an honour before which angels stand and worship, 
 even in this moment does not avenge himself, but en- 
 dures and is silent, even when a servant smites him 
 in the face, even when a malefactor says to him, 
 "Thou art like us!" I know how the heart, espe- 
 cially of you young men, boils at the very thought of 
 being called on to submit to such injustice, I know 
 how your pulse fevers and your eye flashes. " Rather 
 life than honour!" I hear you cry. And yet, I ask, 
 can you in your heart of hearts do otherwise than 
 worship before the celestial repose which, in the full 
 consciousness of its honour and majesty, was at the 
 same time able to forego retaliation, and in silent 
 magnanimity to sufl*er and to bear ? Brothers, if your 
 zeal for wounded honour is manly, believe me, the 
 22 
 
250 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 calmness with whicli Jesus suiFers is divine. But what 
 if the darkness of approaching death has already cast 
 its shadow across his mental eye? Has he in the 
 weakness of dissolving nature ceased to acknowledge 
 either his own innocence or his own majesty? Was 
 he silent, because he was no longer conscious, no 
 longer felt that the head which was there insulted 
 was one which God had anointed that it should be the 
 head of all heads, of all princes, thrones, and powers, 
 in heaven and on earth? No, not such was the cause 
 of his silence. Behold, now Jesus suffers and is silent. 
 But when, in the absence of all other testimony, the 
 testimony of a malefactor is heard, then does Jesus 
 show that he has endured all, in the full conscious- 
 ness both of his holiness and of his majesty, as he 
 utters those wondrous words, " This day shalt thou be 
 with me in paradise." Consider first how these words 
 reveal the consciousness of his holy innocence. In the 
 eye of man he is condemned, and the cross is for him 
 the tree of ignominy ; but in the eye of God he is holy, 
 and the cross is but the lowest footstep of his throne 
 — "This day even, he is to be" — where? Who does 
 not listen with strained attention for the answer; 
 where, where are the souls of the holy among men, 
 after the last sigh has died in their breast, and the last 
 fight has been fought? This very day, he says of 
 himself, he is to be — "in paradise!'' That one might 
 wish to have cast a deeper and fuller glance than these 
 words allow into the world that lies beyond the grave, 
 we will not deny. But the Redeemer speaks to the 
 penitent soul, and speaks as such a soul alone can 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 251 
 
 understand ; and we must own that for our religious 
 feeling, at least, these words — "in paradise" — are 
 sufficient. And so the dying Saviour is to be to-day 
 in that place, where for man no more thorns and 
 thistles grow, where there will consequently be no 
 more sweat of his face and no tears from his eyes ; he 
 will be there, where God will once more, as in the days 
 of innocence, say to man, My child! and man, full of 
 confidence, will reply. My Father ! He will be there, 
 th^re to-day. And Jesus knew this, and therefore he 
 was silent when his holy innocence was insulted, and 
 when even a criminal dared to say to him, "Art not 
 thou even like unto us?" He was silent, although he 
 was well aware, not only that that day he would be in 
 paradise, but that he held in his pierced hand the keys 
 of that paradise. Behold here his majesty! He, 
 whom they have condemned, appears as himself the 
 arbiter of life and death, and awards eternal blessed- 
 ness or pronounces the sentence of damnation. He, 
 whom they are crucifying as a blasphemer of God, 
 " bestows as the Son of God the privileges of adoption 
 in the kingdom of his Father. The cross has become 
 a judgment-seat; the cross has become a throne! 
 And thus, even in the depths of his humiliation, he 
 was ever conscious of his majesty. With this con- 
 sciousness he sufi'ered in silence, when they nailed him 
 to the cross ; with this consciousness he endured with- 
 out a murmur, even when they erected beside him the 
 crosses of criminals, and allowed it to pass in silence 
 when one of the malefactors said to him — to him, the 
 Judge of all— "Thou art as we are !" dying Saviour, 
 
252 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 how dost thou, even in thine hour of death, breathe 
 on men a breath of life ! The breath of a new spirit 
 comes upon me from my dying Lord. Now, I learn 
 that there is a very different kind of honour, from 
 that which is called honour among men. Yes, to be 
 silent as thou wert silent, is nobler than to speak ; to 
 suffer as thou didst suffer, is greater than to avenge 
 one's honour ! We renounce and set aside all ideals, 
 all exemplars of our own creation, in order that we 
 may this day lose ourselves entirely in the contempla- 
 tion of thy serene repose ! 
 
 Christians, we have been led into sin a thousand times 
 by hearkening to flesh and blood. Let this be a day 
 of humiliation for every act of self-revenge, for every 
 passionate word, every ebullition of our proud, undis- 
 ciplined heart. Let us this day kneel down by the 
 cross, and, in the presence of him who was serene and 
 composed even when enduring the deepest dishonour, 
 let us take the vow upon us to be dispassionate and 
 calm like him — ** Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, 
 I will repay." Ye who, for your Saviour and his 
 cause, seek not yourselves to avenge your honour, but 
 rather commit it into the hands of him who holds the 
 reins of universal government, believe it, he will con- 
 duct your cause and bring it to a happy issue. The 
 hour will come when your honour will be made to 
 shine forth like the light, and even here, if you are 
 silent, God will raise up others to speak for you. 
 "If these are silent, the stones will cry out." Even 
 among the malefactors, he found one to vindicate the 
 honour of the Saviour when he was silent, and the 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 253 
 
 malefactor on the right rebuked the blasphemous in- 
 solence of him who hung upon the left. Thus will he 
 in his own time bring your honour also to the light. 
 But in order to be able thus to surrender the work of 
 vindicating one's honour into the hands of God, faithj 
 strong faith is necessary, a faith well ordered and 
 sure — a faith so heroic and so strong, that it will not 
 grow faint or feeble, even should innocence and ma- 
 jesty ignored have to wear for a time the meanest and 
 most menial raiment; in a word, a faith like that 
 which the thief upon the right hand of the cross pos- 
 sessed. You have humbled yourselves in contem- 
 plation of the Saviour's repose: that no flesh may 
 glory in his presence, learn now, ye proud spirits, to 
 humble yourselves before the penitence and before 
 the faith of a malefactor. 
 
 Let us now cast our eye upon him. Look with con- 
 fusion of face at the penitence and the faith of this 
 sinner in his last moments. What ! you exclaim, be 
 ashamed and humbled before this criminal? I know 
 how your proud flesh and blood shrink back from the 
 thought. Perhaps your pride has already more than 
 once risen up against this sinner, because he was saved 
 in the last moments of his life by grace alone. For 
 you belong to the class of people who bring to tlie 
 Judge of the world their many virtues and good 
 works; and to think that you should humble your- 
 selves before a criminal who is converted in the very 
 last hour of a life of sin ! But however unpalatable 
 it may be, you must be content to do so, so long as, 
 with all your virtues and good works, you omit to 
 22* 
 
254 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 bring to God those sacrifices with which alone he is 
 well pleased ; for those were just the sacrifices which 
 this malefactor in his last moments brought, and with- 
 out which no mortal can find access to God. Those 
 sacrifices are penitence and faith. Look, are the 
 offerings he presents not exactly those which, accord- 
 ing to the doctrine of our Church, are necessary to 
 the regeneration of a man? He brings faith and 
 repentance, a heart that owns its sin, that confesses it 
 before God and men, that even willingly submits itself 
 to the punishment of that sin; at the same time, he 
 brings a heart which, even in the very moment between 
 life and death, believes in free, unmerited grace, 
 through Jesus Christ. 
 
 This malefactor was penitent, and in his penitence 
 he is held out before us for our humiliation. In the 
 first place, he acknowledged his sin. He began by 
 fearing God. "Dost thou not fear God, seeing thou 
 art in the same condemnation," he says, and in these 
 words he gives us to know that he has acknowledged 
 his sin. For there is no man, who feels and owns his 
 guilt without at the same time being sure of pardon, 
 who can do otherwise than stand in awe of God. In 
 these days the fear of God appears to have van- 
 ished from among men; they possess no longer what 
 the Bible calls "the beginning of wisdom." Nor is 
 it strange that it should be so. Instead of dealing 
 with God on account of their sin, they are content to 
 make up matters with themselves. If ye judge your- 
 selves, and forgive yourselves, arranging everything 
 after your own pleasure, is it to be wondered at, that 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 255 
 
 ye do not fear God? But in this, mortals, ye are 
 seeking to encroach upon the rights of God, for "no 
 one can forgive sins, but God alone." What, shall 
 the guilty man himself be his own judge? Ye mea- 
 sure yourselves by yourselves, and instead of looking 
 into the mirror of the word of God, ye merely look 
 into your own conscience. Yes, if your conscience 
 had been a bright, clear mirror, polished by the hand 
 of God, then it might have been otherwise. But your 
 mirror is dim, ye have breathed on it the breath of 
 your vanity and self-love, and it is not your true 
 selves ye see reflected there; and then how seldom 
 and superficially do you look at yourselves even there ! 
 Or do you imagine that it is only the criminal in his 
 prison, and the condemned upon the scafi'old, who 
 have occasion to stand in awe of God. I ask rather, 
 who is there but should stand in awe of him, who has 
 nothing between him and his guilty soul save the tes- 
 timony of an awakened conscience? "Dost not thou 
 fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?" 
 — the question from the dying thief is addressed to 
 the whole world of sinners, who are lying in carnal 
 security. And because this malefactor, when he came 
 to the knowledge of his sin, feared God and humbled 
 himself before him, all those secure sinners, who do 
 not fear God, are to humble themselves even before 
 this penitent thief. 
 
 But after we have felt our sins, what a hard step it 
 is to bring ourselves to confess them. Honestly and 
 sincerely to confess one's guilt, how hard is that for 
 flesh and blood. The sinner allows his consciousness 
 
256 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 of guilt to devour his spirit internally, he is ready to 
 submit to all the acuteness and misery of that feeling, 
 before he will consent to fall down before God, and 
 confess to him his sin. Nor is this strange, for before 
 a man can so miich as come into the presence of his 
 God with the confession of sin upon his lips, he must 
 first have faith. For to come into the presence of 
 God is to pray, and how many are there who feel the 
 thorn of conscience keenly, and who yet cannot pray ! 
 And even when all this is done, what a hard step 
 remains to be taken before we can confess before men, 
 what our actions really have deserved. You have sat 
 in judgment upon your sins, and have pronounced a 
 sentence of condemnation over them before God, in 
 the secret of your closet; you feel that this is much, 
 and you would rather go no further ; you would prefer 
 to retain some importance in the eyes of your fellow- 
 men, in the world without. Humble yourselves before 
 this malefactor, for behold, here, before the open hea- 
 ven above and the listening earth beneath, he cries, 
 "We receive the due reward of our deeds!" Or, is 
 it that you regard this confession as of small value, 
 because it proceeded from the scaffold and was made 
 by a man over whose head earthly justice was even 
 then wielding her arm, preparing to strike the fatal 
 blow? But do you not know to what a depth of 
 degradation a man may fall, and yet all the while 
 appear, in his own estimation, guiltless and good? 
 And has not even the unconverted criminal on the 
 scaffold something plausible about him, if not before 
 the eye that seeth in secret, still in the eyes of his 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 257 
 
 fellow-men? To pronounce in any case, with full 
 certainty, that the criminal, whose head falls beneath 
 the axe of the executioner, is a greater sinner than I, 
 is indeed a most responsible task, and one which no 
 man who knows his own heart will ever undertake. 
 Do you know with certainty, that among all the 
 wicked deeds and the evil thoughts of your life, which 
 lie unveiled only before that eye which seeth in 
 secret, there is not one which, weighed in the balance 
 of eternal justice, would not be found more heavy 
 than that sin for which that criminal sheds his blood ? 
 Now look further, at a fact, which most infallibly 
 demonstrates that this confession of the penitent thief 
 was a confession wrung from his inmost heart. It is 
 only, as I before remarked, when we are ready in our 
 inmost heart to bear the penalty of our sins, that we 
 can be said truly to be sensible of our guilt. When 
 the heart truly repents, it must also with sincerity 
 acknowledge the right God has to use the rod. And 
 this is the test by which it may be known, whether 
 your confession is a matter of mere words or not. 
 "TFe receive the due reward of our deeds,'' cried the 
 thief on the cross. His back had been torn with 
 scourges, his body hung stretched upon the cross, and 
 blood fell from his hands and feet ; still he could say, 
 "We receive the due reward of our deeds." This is 
 to repent, not merely with the lips, but in the very 
 depths of a man's being; this is to repent when the 
 penitent feels that punishment itself is sweet, because 
 he is so deeply sensible of what sin deserves. Ay, 
 and if even the very flames of eternal fire had con- 
 
258 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 sumed him, I think a sinner like this, who, when sub- 
 jected to the fierce pain and agonj of the cross, could 
 utter such words as these, would even in these flames 
 have exclaimed, "Judge, I have received mj due." 
 And therefore I say to all of you, who confess 
 yourselves to be debtors before God, and who, not- 
 withstanding, at every stroke of the rod, exclaim, 
 ''Lord, wherefore this to meV — humble yourself, I 
 say, in the presence of the crucified thief, for your 
 repentance has not yet like his penetrated into the 
 remotest depths of your soul. 
 
 Thus his 'penitence humbles us. Further, we have 
 ground deeply to humble ourselves, in the contempla- 
 tion of his /a^^7i. ''But this man hath done nothing 
 amiss,'' In these words he acknowledges, in the first 
 instance, the holy innocence of Christ, and he does 
 so before the world. And whence did he know that 
 Christ was innocent? He had neither heard him 
 speak, nor seen him work; he had seen nothing of 
 him but his sufferings. How then did he know that 
 of which the thousands who were raging round the 
 cross knew nothing ? Was he, then, able to recognize 
 in the features of that countenance crowned with 
 thorns, which was bleeding by him, the holy soul that 
 was still reflected there? And did he not let himself 
 be deceived, when those thousands, with the priests at 
 their head, cried, ''This man hath blasphemed God, 
 and is worthy of death"? Truly we must humble 
 ourselves in this man's presence, although he was a 
 malefactor; for how many of you, I ask, would have 
 thus recognized the. Holy One of God in the form of 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 259 
 
 a servant and in the deepest abasement. May we 
 not say, there is a certain nobility of soul manifested 
 in the fact, that in the innocence of these sufferings 
 he discerns the innocence of the whole life which pre- 
 ceded them ? Already in this his faith is great ; but 
 there is more than this. He believes not merely in 
 the holy innocence of Christ; no, in that brow 
 crowned with thorns, and covered with blood — in that 
 head laden with insult and with shame, with the eye 
 of faith he sees a royal majesty — the majesty of a 
 King, who in his pierced hand yet holds the keys of 
 paradise: "Lord, remember me when thou comest 
 into thy kingdom." See here what a true faith 
 means. Faith is the wing of the soul, by which she 
 wings her way far above and beyond what is seen, 
 into the regions of the invisible. Faith is the eye of 
 the soul, which sees majesty where the eye of the 
 flesh sees only shame — which sees light where the 
 other sees only darkness — which recognizes life where 
 the other perceives only death — and which in him, 
 who, to the eye of flesh is nothing more than a con- 
 demned malefactor, owns and worships the King of 
 heaven. 
 
 Such is the eye of faith, and that eye of faith the 
 dying thief possessed. Brethren, would not penitence 
 and faith like these make that man precious in the 
 sight of God? Thus to repent, and thus to believe, 
 is no vain idea; it is a power of God, such as is capa- 
 ble of creating a new man, of which it may with truth 
 be said, "Old things are passed away, behold, all 
 things are become new." For the new birth is 
 
260 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 nothing else than thus to repent and thus to believe. 
 Yes, a child was born there into the kingdom of God 
 — the gloomy cross was his cradle — and the great, 
 wide eternity became the scene of his expansion and 
 his growth. The spring of the new life which was 
 then poured into his soul, shall be throughout eternity 
 a well of living water springing up into everlasting 
 life. 
 
 A dying thief to life is born, 
 
 His cross a cradle proves: 
 So mighty ev'n in death His grace 
 
 Who dearly sinners loves. 
 
 For He now hanging by his side 
 
 Is sovereign of the skies ; 
 For him the Crucified unlocks 
 
 The gates of paradise. 
 
 See, all around the tree of shame, 
 
 Attendant angels wait. 
 To bear to heaven that ransomed soul, 
 
 Returned to God so late. 
 
 That through eternal years of bliss, 
 
 In the light of God on high, 
 His new-born spirit may expand 
 
 Beneath his Saviour's eye. 
 
 In this instance of the deliverance of a sinner in the 
 eleventh hour, is it intended to lull to sleep the care- 
 less and the secure ? Is it recorded in order to admin- 
 ister the balm of consolation to those who indulge in 
 the idle dream that, after they have tasted all the joys 
 that life can give, they will be reconciled to their God 
 with the last sigh of their vicious breast? It might 
 be so if, in the case before us, there was nothing more 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 261 
 
 than the last sigh of a vicious breast. But here there 
 is something more ; there is a new heart here, a new 
 birth. And if you would first take your pleasure in 
 the world, and afterwards make your peace with God 
 — if you can with certainty know that, in the last 
 evening twilight of your days, that lies between the 
 noon-day glare and glitter of your worldly life and 
 the stern night of judgment that is to ensue, you will 
 even then, by a similar penitence and faith, become 
 new men — then you may go on in sin, and live your 
 fleeting life between heaven and earth with as much 
 unconcern as if there were no death at its close ! But 
 I testify to you that he who, when the words, " To- 
 day, to-day if ye will hear my voice!" sound in his 
 ear, will not hear^ will never more be able to repent 
 and believe, even if he would. That insolent levity 
 which purposely puts off the day of repentance, think 
 you that it can repent when it chooses ? It cannot ; 
 for every conscious and intentional delay is a barrier 
 in the way of repentance ; and the more barriers there 
 are in the way, the more certainly is an hour approach- 
 ing when it shall be said. It is too late ! 
 
 This day, this very day, God has called you. Ye 
 proud spirits, ye hearts in carnal security, this day 
 God hath called you. Let whoever hears his voice 
 humble himself before him now ; for every delay is a 
 barrier in the way of repentance; and the more bar- 
 riers in the way, the more certainly is an hour ap- 
 proaching when it shall be said. It is too late ! 
 
 Lord, we would fain be where thou art, where 
 thou art now with the penitent thief; and as we know 
 23 
 
262 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 not liow soon our last hour may come, and whetlier 
 then, in the death-struggles of the parting spirit, 
 there will be a gate of mercy thrown open to us, 
 help us to repent, help us to believe, before that last 
 hour draws near ! Amen. 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 THE FILIAL LOVE OF JESUS: " JESUS SAITH UNTO HIS MOTHER, 
 WOMAN, BEHOLD THY SON I THEN SAITH HE TO THE DISCIPLE, 
 BEHOLD THY MOEHEr!" 
 
 John xix. 25-27. — Now there stood by the cross of Jesus, his mother, 
 and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary 
 Magdalene. "When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the 
 disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother. 
 Woman, behold thy son! Then saith he to the disciple. Behold 
 thy mother ! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his 
 own home. 
 
 Beloved in Christ: — You have listened to a word of 
 forgiveness fc«m the mouth of your Saviour, and have 
 heard him speak as a priest; you have listened to a 
 word of majesty, when he opened from the cross the 
 gate of paradise, and there heard him speak as a 
 king; listen to-day to a word of love which he spoke 
 as a human son to a human mother. Some time 
 might have elapsed since he had uttered these royal 
 words about his kingdom of paradise, when, looking 
 down, his eye fell upon the women and the disciple 
 whom he loved, standing by. They had — the former 
 doubtless, protected by their sex, and the latter as a 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 263 
 
 friend of the high-priest — succeeded in gaining access 
 to the cross, near enough to hear the words of their 
 dying Lord. It was for those loving spirits, but espe- 
 cially for the mother's, a proximity most dear and 
 valued; but, at the same time, most painful. Then 
 it was, truly, that that mother's heart was to experi- 
 ence the fulfilment of the word of prophecy, which 
 had been spoken to her some three and thirty years 
 before, in the days when she could yet press to her 
 bosom the smiling countenance of the infant Redeemer. 
 The aged Simeon had foretold to her, " A sword shall 
 pierce through thine own soul also." Ah! now, 
 indeed, a sword pierced her soul, as she saw the Son 
 of so many joys and so many sorrows hang drooping 
 and dying on the cross. His arms were stretched 
 out, and none could relieve their pain ; his lips were 
 parched, and none could refresh them; his wounds 
 were bleeding, but none of those he loved could draw 
 near to bind them up. Then it was that the filial 
 love of Jesus was displayed, and it is this that will 
 this day form the subject of our discourse. Listen to 
 the words of our text in John xix. 25-27: '^Now 
 there stood hy the cross of Jesus, his mother and his 
 mother's sister, Mary the ivife of Cleophas, and 
 Mary 3Iagdalene. When Jesus therefore saw his 
 mother, and the disciple standing hy, whom he loved, 
 he saith unto his mother. Woman, behold thy son! 
 Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! 
 And from that hour that disciple took her unto his 
 own home,'" 
 
 Is it possible to read these words without exclaim- 
 
264 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 ing, What a touching incident is here recorded of our 
 Lord ! and what a powerful lesson it teaches us ! Let 
 us lay to heart both these considerations. 
 
 What a touching incident of our Lord! How sur- 
 prising is the strength of filial love in our Lord which 
 it displays, how great the tenderness of that love. 
 How surprising is its strength! One cannot easily 
 realize to one's self, that the heart of this Son of God 
 beat so truly to his earthly mother, as the hearts of 
 the other children of men are wont to beat. Thou 
 only-begotten Son of God, who didst lie in the bosom 
 of thy Heavenly Father, can it be that the breast of 
 thy earthly mother had for thee the significance it has 
 for other poor children of earth? In all other re- 
 spects, at least, he was ever so free from the influence 
 of earthly ties. No conjugal bonds were there to fet- 
 ter him ; no heart that could claim him as exclusively 
 its own, and could say to him. Thou art mine. No 
 children, except those born of his Spirit, could stretch 
 out their hands to him. And all his natural relation- 
 ships were in him made so entirely subordinate to the 
 spiritual. The man who would first bury his father 
 before following him, received the command, "Let 
 the dead bury their dead, but go thou and preach the 
 kingdom of God." Once, when a certain mother, 
 overcome by the power of his discourse, burst into the 
 exclamation, "Blessed is the womb that bare thee, 
 and the breasts that gave thee suck," he answered, 
 " Rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God, 
 and keep it." "Who is my father and my mother? 
 Whosoever doeth the will of my Father in heaven." 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 265 
 
 After all this, one is surprised at the exhibition of his 
 filial love which meets us here, showing how sacredly 
 he regarded those fleshly ties which he had. That in 
 such moments as these he should have thought of his 
 earthly mother! Think what sufierings body and 
 spirit were in these moments undergoing. The wounds 
 on his lacerated back were still smarting with pain, 
 and blood flowed from the marks of the nails and the 
 thorny crown; from his extended limbs, the blood 
 was driven back upon the oppressed heart, and his 
 parched tongue was cleaving to the roof of his mouth. 
 And yet, under similar physical sufi'erings, other men 
 have thought of the ties of nature. Therefore, what 
 surprises us is, not that amid the burning of his 
 wounds and the anguish of his broken heart, he should 
 not have thought exclusively on himself, but also on 
 her that bore him. And then, from first to last, his 
 love was a self-forgetting love, even upon the cross ; 
 his love was to the very last a Saviour's love. Instead 
 of thinking of his own sufferings, he thought of the 
 guilt of others. But what is surprising to us, what 
 reveals to us the depth of his filial love, is this, that 
 after he had been filled with thoughts suitable to his 
 character as a Saviour, after he had prayed for his 
 people as a merciful high-priest, and, as a king, had 
 opened paradise to a penitent sinner, he now — all 
 priestly and kingly thoughts apart — feels as a son, 
 and provides for his weeping mother, and opens to her 
 his heart. Yes, that does surprise us, and discloses 
 to us how strong his love to his mother was ; it brings 
 him, as man, so near to us. Mark, at the same time, 
 23* 
 
266 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 the tenderness of that love. The dying Son makes 
 his will for his mother. What possession will he leave 
 her ? What of earthly goods he could call his own was 
 at any time but little, and even that little was his now 
 no longer ; at his death it became the property of the 
 men who carried into execution the sentence of death, 
 and they had even then been casting lots over it be- 
 neath his cross. Yet, had he wished to bequeath to 
 her money or property, he might easily have done so, 
 for all that his followers, such as Mary and Martha, 
 Salome, or Peter, had, he might truly have called his 
 own ; they who had given themselves to him, had they 
 not also willingly placed at his disposal all that they 
 possessed ? But he will not leave her goods or wealth ; 
 he has no silver and gold, but such as he has he will 
 leave her, and he has something more precious than 
 gold or silver. He will bequeath to her a heart, the 
 human heart which is next his own ; and wherefore is 
 that heart next his own ? because it best understands 
 what love is. See here another proof that John well 
 knew the nature of love. How short is the "Saviour's 
 testament!" "Woman, behold thy son — behold thy 
 mother." John requires no more than this, Mary 
 requires no more, " Woman, behold thy son — behold 
 thy mother," and with this a glance of mutual under- 
 standing passes between the two, and they are satis- 
 fied. The son understands the mother, the mother 
 understands the son. May we not conclude from this, 
 that those two hearts were well suited to each other ; 
 and does not the idea make us feel that the love of 
 the dying Son was as tender as it was strong ? Doubt- 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 267 
 
 less, in this the Saviour was making provision for 
 Mary's earthly wants. The father of John cannot 
 have been a poor man ; we read of his having hired 
 servants in his pay ; he possessed a house of his own at 
 Bethsaida ; possibly also one in Jerusalem, for we read, 
 "from that hour he took her unto his own home," 
 which we know was from this time forward in Jerusa- 
 lem, And thus the disciple maintained her, provided 
 for her ; and thus he watched over her when she came 
 to lie upon her last bed of sicknes. A tradition re- 
 lates, that John would never forsake the dear trust 
 which his dying Saviour had committed to his care, 
 that accordingly he never went beyond the bounda- 
 ries of Palestine, until the mother of the Lord, had, 
 in his arms, breathed her last. But it was not 
 surely for the sake of this earthly support and care 
 alone, that Jesus confided his mother to the disci- 
 ple whom he loved. Had his intention been only 
 to make provision for those, he could equally well 
 have left her to the care of her natural protectors, 
 to his four brothers and his sisters. True, the brothers 
 were not at that time believers, but they were soon 
 to become so, and on the morning of the very next 
 Sabbath-day, the bud of their faith would come to the 
 blossom. We read in Paul, that the risen Lord once 
 appeared alone to his brother James. (1 Cor. xv. 7.) 
 What passed between these two, on that occasion, we 
 are not informed; but certain it is, that must have 
 been a turning-point in the life of the brother, for we 
 subsequently find him, along with his brethren, in 
 company with the apostles. Why then, if it was only 
 
268 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 her physical comfort that he thought of, did the Lord 
 not commit his mother to the care of James? Be- 
 cause he wished to leave her a heart that could per- 
 fectly understand her ; and you need not be informed 
 that relations, even believing relations, are not always 
 those who can best -do this. I have formerly shown 
 you, from the Bible, of what a tender virgin spirit the 
 mother of our Lord was. And on this account she 
 needed a tender spirit to understand her. Now, 
 could the Lord have pointed to one among them all 
 of a nature more tender than was his, who was called 
 in the ancient church, by preeminence, the man of 
 virgin-soul? Beneath the cross, one single glance 
 sufficed to show that they understood each t)ther, and 
 doubtless from that time they went on knowing each 
 other ever better. Moreover, this disciple was best 
 qualified to tend and nourish the spiritual life of the 
 mother of the Lord. In a word, could the dying 
 Redeemer have provided for his mother with greater 
 tenderness, with more thoughtful love, than when he 
 wished that she should rest her grey hairs on that 
 breast which had often leant on his own ! 
 
 Yes, it is a touching incident here recorded of our 
 Lord ; and at the same time it reads a most Jmmhling 
 lesson to us. Do you understand, beloved, what in 
 these words the dying Son of God and of Man pro- 
 claims to us from the cross? Little children, so he 
 addresses us, be strong in your love to your relations, 
 and in your love be forgetful of yourselves ! Little 
 children, be strong in your love to your relations, and 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 269 
 
 in your love be wise to ponder what is most for their 
 good ! 
 
 Little children^ he strong in your love to your rela- 
 tions^ and in your love forget yourselves. Such is 
 the first command that the Lord addresses to us from 
 th'fe cross in the words of our text. Now, what is 
 it that makes love strong? I answer, it is self-for- 
 getfulness. What makes it weak? I answer, it is 
 balancing and weighing everything, it is measuring 
 everything by rule and square, it is for ever separating 
 and distinguishing between the mine and the thine, it 
 is this that makes love weak. For it is with love just 
 as it is with faith. Whenever faith begins to be sus- 
 picious and to inquire, is it so, or is it not ? then the 
 power of faith is broken. And whenever love begins 
 to put such questions as, ought I? may I? must I? 
 then the power of love is broken. At any rate a true 
 love, if it take such questions as these into considera- 
 tion at all, after it has gone through them, and has by 
 them become purified as well as strengthened, has 
 done with them, and is once more an immediate, spon- 
 taneous feeling in the breast. The waves of love must 
 flow from the heart clear and strong, as the waves of 
 the stream flow out of the rocky mountain side. Thus 
 spontaneous, unimpeded, self -for getting was the Sa- 
 viour's love, thus it was even to his last hour of sufi'er- 
 ing. My brethren, love is at any time strong only 
 then when one can forget himself, in order to think 
 only on the object of his love. The love of that man 
 is feeble who, in loving others, still thinks a great 
 deal about himself, who is always calculating and 
 
270- SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 making minute distinctions between mine and thine. 
 When at the last supper Christ sat down with his 
 disciples, one might have expected that in the view of 
 the approaching hours of sorrow he would be entirely 
 occupied with his own thoughts. But how different 
 was the case. In that moment all his thought and care 
 were for his own, how he should comfort them, how 
 he should strengthen them, so that even John, who 
 knew his Master so well, is struck with it, and writes 
 with wonder, " Having loved his own which were in 
 the world, he loved them unto the end,'' This self- 
 forgetful love he retained in the darkness of death, 
 ay, even until he bowed his head and gave up the 
 ghost. He knew the rare art well of forgetting his 
 own suffering in the thought of the distress of others. 
 Which of us has learned that art ? We calculate and 
 distinguish between what is ours and what our neigh- 
 bour's. We do so even when God has given us a 
 light and happy heart, while to others he has allotted 
 sorrow, when we could well afford to take upon our- 
 selves part of our neighbour's burden. But when our 
 own heart is oppressed with sorrow, how few of us 
 would then preserve a heart so large and wide that he 
 could forget himself, and find a place in his sympathy 
 for his neighbour's affliction? Sorrow-laden Chris- 
 tians, are you sufficiently mindful of the fact, that 
 affliction has a tendency to make people egotistical 
 and self-absorbed ? Ye who have a cross of care to 
 bear, do you not perceive, that to be exclusively 
 engrossed with one's own peculiar grief, narrows the 
 heart so that it becomes incapable of taking up into 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 271 
 
 its sympathy the woes of others. be strong in the 
 love of Jesus, and learn to forget your own distress in 
 that of others. At all events, the affliction of your 
 relations, of those who are your own flesh and blood, 
 ought not surely to be foreign to your deepest sympa- 
 thies ; you ought to think of it as your own. Children, 
 how often have your father and mother forgotten their 
 own joy and sorrow in their sympathy with your 
 sorrow; and have you not strength enough to forget 
 yourselves in the sorrow of your parents? Yea, all 
 of you, learn to bury and forget your own griefs and 
 Bufferings in the griefs and sufferings of others. You 
 will do so to your own advantage. For he who seeks 
 to bind up the wounds of others, lays in the very act 
 a balm upon his own, and soft and gentle flow the. 
 tears of him who himself dries the tears from a bro- 
 ther's eye! Well do those widows know this, and 
 those childless parents who, because they must stand 
 alone in the world, having no one to dry their own 
 eyes, and sooth their own sorrow, have made it the 
 work of their life to minister the balm of consolation 
 to their fellow-men, and wipe away their tears. Chris- 
 tians, there is no nobler way of ridding yourselves of 
 the burden of your sorrow, than by burying and for- 
 getting it in the griefs of others! thou noble, 
 blessed model of self-forgetting love, thou who art 
 come into the world, not to be ministered unto, but to 
 minister ; thee will we gaze on, thee will we love, until 
 we learn to love our relations with a love which, in its 
 solicitude for them, forgets its own affliction ! 
 
 But I go even farther. It was not only his own 
 
272 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 sufferings that the Saviour forgot ; no, he forgot, if I 
 may so express myself, his own most peculiar work, that 
 work of a Saviour, which concerned the whole world; 
 even in that work he paused a moment, that he might 
 dry the tears of his afflicted mother. It is admitted 
 by all, that it is a selfish and egotistical thing for a 
 man to bury and entomb himself in his own sorrow. 
 But there is one point on which it is very easy for 
 people to deceive themselves. Our business and our 
 calling are God's, and when engaged in it, we are doing 
 God's work. How then can we leave off doing God's 
 work to go and minister relief to the afflicted ? But 
 people may give themselves too much concern about 
 this very work of God. Have there not been many 
 who have come forward as helpers of others in distress, 
 whose own wives and children were at the very time 
 eating their bread of tears at home? — many who 
 required so much time and strength to discharge their 
 duties as officers, as men of science, as students, that 
 they had none left to fulfil those of their calling as 
 fathers, children, husbands, friends? 0, let us never 
 forget it, our very first duty and calling upon earth is 
 this — to become men well pleasing to God. That of 
 which we speak may be done with a good conscience, 
 and, for all that, we must say the good conscience is 
 an erring one. Do we not read, " He that is unright- 
 eous in the least, is unrighteous also in the greatest. 
 If any man provide not for his own house, he hath, 
 denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel"? If 
 he, who had the greatest of all works to do upon the 
 earth, if the Saviour in the hour of death, when he 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 273 
 
 bore upon his heart the sins of a world, if even he, 
 while he discharged the one awful duty, did not leave 
 undone the other; and if in a heart which the con- 
 cern of a Saviour for a ruined world oppressed, room 
 was yet found for the concern of a Son for his weep- 
 ing mother, how much more should this be true 
 of us! 
 
 And the other command which the Lord addresses 
 to us from the cross is this, Little children, let your 
 love for your relations he strong in devisiiig what is 
 most for their good. 
 
 Every one, my brethren, has his own particular side 
 from which the road to the heart lies, and by this way 
 he must be approached by any one who wishes to show 
 him some kindness. And therefore it is, that true 
 love is impossible without going out of one's self; for 
 if thou livest and hast thy being only in thyself, and 
 not in others, how canst thou discover the particular 
 side from which the way into the heart of others lies. 
 This quality of love by which it enables us to place 
 ourselves in the position of others ; which seeks to do 
 good to one in his own way, and not in our own way ; 
 which makes us realize his feelings, and anticipate his 
 wishes, this we call, in social life, delicate attention; 
 and in no way can one so speedily eifect the conquest 
 of the hearts of others, as just by studying them thus, 
 and meeting their desires. Unfortunately, consider- 
 ation for the feelings of others and attentiveness to 
 their wishes is often factitious and put-on. Often it 
 has no foundation in truth of nature, and is of no 
 longer duration than the social circle of an evening 
 24 
 
274 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 party; witli the extinction of its lights the fair stars 
 of all these beautiful words and kindnesses are extin- 
 guishedHoo. Alas for the many falsehoods which go 
 to make up our social life ! But this falsehood is a 
 reflection, shining back indeed from a burnished and 
 mere earthly metal, of a real virtue ; it is the shadow, 
 dark with mere earthly darkness, of that delicate con- 
 sideration for others which is the root and essence of 
 true politeness. Now, in the words of our Lord which 
 we have before us, do we not find this delicate con- 
 siderateness of love in its true form, set forth in a 
 manner most attractive, and at the same time to us 
 most reproving? Did we but know how the Saviour 
 was wont to deal with those with whom he held inter- 
 course, with each of his disciples severally, with his 
 mother and the members of his family, we should then 
 see how, by ways adapted to the several cases of each, 
 he went to seek them with his ministering love, how 
 he educated them for himself, how he drew them to 
 himself. And thus it is he deals with men still, as, 
 bending down from heaven, he leads his own and pre- 
 pares them for himself. "I am the good Shepherd," 
 says Jesus, "and know my sheep." He calleth his 
 own sheep by name and leadeth them out. Has not 
 the divine power of his doctrine laid hold on each of 
 us from his own peculiar side, and has not the divine 
 beauty of his form disclosed to each a peculiar attrac- 
 tion? Yes, he knows us by name, and he leads us 
 according as the peculiar necessities of each require. 
 Tell me, ye who know him, is it. not thus that he has 
 dealt with you ? 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 275 
 
 Beloved in Christ, ye men — ye women — ye youths, 
 he has left us all an example that we should follow 
 his footsteps, an example which, in all our dealings 
 with those we love, we should keep. before our eye. 
 Let us love those who belong to us with that consider- 
 ate and thoughtful love which discovers and provides 
 for every one what is best suited for his peculiar case. 
 We must go more out of ourselves than we do, we 
 must go deeper into the feelings of those with whom 
 God has bound us in the ties of nature, in order that 
 we may learn more fully to understand what each 
 wants, what would give them joy. The apostle says, 
 *' Let not every one mind his own things, but each 
 one also the things of others." We all look too much 
 to our own things, are too much lost in our own sor- 
 rows, interests, and wants, and live too little in that 
 which concerns others; hence we understand far too 
 little the men with whom we associate, and it is be- 
 cause we do not properly understand them, that there 
 is so little delicacy and consideration in our love. 
 
 Hence it is, moreover, that we do not keep before 
 us as we ought, that benefit which, of all others, is the 
 best and most profitable for them — hence it is, that 
 we leave so much out of account, the wants of their 
 immortal natures. As certain as that word is true, 
 "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world 
 if he lose his own soul," so certain is it that no greater 
 blessing can be conferred by any man upon a relation, 
 than when he takes into consideration, and seeks to 
 provide for, his spiritual necessities. And did not on 
 this account the Saviour think, even in death, of the 
 
276 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 spiritual necessities of his mother, and in his tender 
 solicitude provide for them? 
 
 It is a sign of the tenderness of your love that you • 
 should seek at all to supply the spiritual wants of 
 those that helong to you, but further, in doing so, you 
 must act with tenderness. Mere violent declamation, 
 mere sermonizing will not gain your object. At the 
 same time, to sit down with folded arms and idly wait 
 till God converts the heart, will as little avail. In 
 the first place, you must gain over hearts by deeds, 
 before you attempt to win them by words. That is 
 done by tender, ministering love. Beloved, such a 
 tender, ministering, self-forgetful love, a love which 
 goes entirely out of itself, and out towards others, 
 such a love has in it something so unearthly, so 
 heavenly, that the heart must be of stone indeed 
 which it fails to touch. Would you that men would 
 lend a willing and attentive ear to your exhortations, 
 0, then, see to it, in the first place, that you succeed 
 in taking possession of their hearts, and making them 
 your own : and a love like this conquers hearts. This 
 is a sermon such as the least eloquent among you may 
 preach, even though he can urge no other testimony 
 in favour of the truth of his cause; by this means 
 many a Christian woman has exercised a greater and 
 a deeper influence in the world on behalf of the king- 
 dom of God, than many settled clergymen. Even 
 that trumpet of God, the apostle Paul, who knew 
 better than any other the power of the preaching of 
 the word, even he made use of this tender ministering 
 love, and by it preached to his churches, for did he 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 277 
 
 not refuse all their gifts, preferring to carry on a 
 humble trade by night, that during the day he might, 
 without hinderance, make known to them the gospel of 
 Christ? Now, after you have found for yourself a 
 way to the heart, by such works — which are indeed 
 infinitely more difiicult than words — you will then find 
 an entrance there for your words also. Tenderness 
 of love is necessary in order to become in one's words 
 all things to all men. Every human heart is a little 
 world, and each is approached by a way of its own. 
 Learn to know those who belong to you, to know them 
 in their deepest and truest nature, in order that you 
 may speak to each of them of the truth in the very 
 way that is best fitted for each. Observe, for exam- 
 ple, how Paul writes in an entirely different way to 
 Philemon and to Timotheus, to the Galatians and the 
 Philippians. "I desire to be present with you now, 
 and to change my voice as ye stand in need," he 
 writes to the Galatians. Just because every human 
 heart is a little world of its own, and has its own door 
 of entrance, it is not enough for us to preach from the 
 pulpit, where if one word strikes a heart, a hundred 
 others fall unheeded ; we must follow the example of 
 Paul, who, when he parted from the Church at Ephe- 
 sus, declared, "I have kept back nothing that was 
 profitable unto you, but have showed you, and have 
 taught you publicly, and from house to house." 0, 
 if the example of a Paul has any weight with you, if 
 the pattern of love which your Saviour, even in the 
 hour of his death, presents, has any influence over 
 you, make it your work, I beseech you, fathers, chil- 
 24* 
 
278 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 dren, mothers, brothers and sisters, friends, make it 
 your earnest work, to understand those you love in 
 their deepest and truest nature, in order that you may 
 love them with a true love, in order that you may be 
 able to bring to them in tender love, that gift which 
 is of more value than any other — the gift of their 
 eternal salvation. 
 
 SERMON XL 
 
 ELI, ELI, LAMA SABACHTHANI? MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAST 
 THOU FORSAKEN ME? 
 
 Matthew xxvii. 45, 46. — Now, from the sixth hour there was dark- 
 ness over all the land unto the ninth hour. And about the ninth 
 hour, Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabach- 
 thani ? that is to say. My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
 me? 
 
 Christians, you have heard how the Son of God 
 made intercession upon the cross as High-priest; you 
 have seen him, as King of the kingdom of God, open 
 the gate of paradise to the penitent sinner ; and you 
 have heard how, even in the hour of death, the Son 
 of man was not unmindful of his earthly mother. 
 These four sayings, all of them expressive of the Sa- 
 viour's concern for others, have been uttered. No 
 voice is now heard from the cross. All is still, save 
 the raging of the billows of hate and scorn beneath. 
 Thus three hours, from the ninth hour to the twelfth, 
 have passed in silence, and now another voice is 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 279 
 
 heard. And this time it is the Lord of nature, not 
 the patient sufferer on the cross, that opens his 
 mouth, and it is in actions that he speaks. Darkness 
 spreads out its gloomy wing over the scene where 
 that work of deepest darkness is going on. The 
 darkness went on increasing, till the third hour; and 
 then it was that the crucified spoke once more. Ah ! 
 what intense darkness must at that moment have 
 wrapt his soul, for never had these sacred lips uttered 
 words so gloomy! We read in Matthew xxvii. 45, 
 46: '''Now, from the sixth hour there was darkness 
 over all the land unto the ninth hour. And about 
 the ninth hour, Jesus cried with a loud voice, 
 saying, Eli, Eli, lama sahachthanif that is to say, 
 My Grod, my Cfod, why hast thou forsaken meV 
 
 How heavily must the darkness of death have rested 
 upon that holy soul, to have extorted from it such 
 words as these in an hour like that ! You will not be 
 able to understand them, unless you bear in mind the 
 truth which our former meditations have taught us, 
 namely, that Jesus felt the sin of man far more 
 intensely than any of us can feel it. Our loving fel- 
 low-feeling for the sinner is too weak, our sympathy 
 with the holiness of God is too cold. I have already 
 invited you to contemplate the Saviour as he stood 
 upon the heights before the city, and tears fell from 
 his eyes, as he thought of the guilt his people were so 
 shortly to incur. We have been with him in Geth- 
 semane when, in anticipation of the final conflict, he 
 wrestled with God, until "his sweat was as it were 
 great drops of blood." You have heard how, as 
 
280 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 groaning beneath the burden of the cross, he went to 
 the place of execution, he could even then exclaim, 
 "Weep not for me, but weep for yourselves." And 
 now, when Grod was himself as it were intimating to 
 the workers of iniquity the judgments which were to 
 come upon them, as, over those thousands of men, 
 rejoicing in iniquity and in malice, nature spread her 
 sombre morning-garb, the darkness ever becoming 
 more mighty and more awful — 0, during those three 
 last hours, when all without was silent, how acute 
 must the mental sufferings of Jesus have been ! Think, 
 too, of his physical sufferings : — the mid-day sultriness 
 would make his wounds smart more fiercely, and rack 
 the out-stretched limbs more cruelly, and drive the 
 blood more furiously back upon the broken heart! 
 But fiercely as his wounds may burn, the thought of 
 his people's sins is harder still to bear, and anxiously 
 as his heart may beat at the nearness of the death- 
 struggle, his soul shrinks yet more convulsively from 
 the thought of the judgments which these sins are 
 bringing in their train. — But he turns his eye back to 
 the times of old: what the Boyal Son of David is 
 enduring, was suffered typically by his royal ances- 
 tor. Had not David prefigured the sufferings of the 
 Messias when he cried, " I am poured out like water, 
 and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like 
 wax, it is melted in the midst of my bowels. My 
 strength is dried up like a potsherd ; and my tongue 
 cleaveth to my jaws ; and thou hast brought me into 
 the dust of death"? And did he not also anticipate 
 the glorification of his great Descendant, when, in the 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 281 
 
 close of that same twenty-second Psalm, he joyfully 
 exclaimed, " I will declare thy name unto my brethren, 
 in the midst of the congregation will I praise thee. 
 All the ends of the world shall remember and turn 
 unto the Lord; and all the kindreds of the nations 
 shall worship before thee." Hence it is the opening 
 words of this psalm, of which the Lord makes choice 
 in giving expression to the conflict of his heart: "Eli, 
 Eli, lama sabachthani? My God, my God, why hast 
 thou forsaken me?" 
 
 Consider these words — first, what they are in the 
 mouth of Jesus. They are an acknowledgment full 
 of confidence ; a question full of awfulness ; and a 
 lamentation full of horror. Then consider what they 
 are to us: an accusation well fitted to humble us; a 
 consolation full of immeasurable grace. 
 
 My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me! 
 What do we understand by these words ? First, in 
 the words "My God, my God," there is an acknow- 
 ledgment full of confidence. To be able to say 
 to that great Spirit from whom, and by whom, and 
 to whom are all things — not with mere words but in 
 true faith — thou art my God, to be able to say that 
 at any time, was much, but to say it upon the tree 
 of shame and at the close of such a life, was unspeak- 
 ably more. Eor surely everything appeared to say 
 that that God, the God of his youth, to whom, as a 
 boy of twelve years of age, he had looked up as to his 
 Father, to whom as a man he had trustingly prayed 
 during the battle of his life, surely now everything 
 appeared to say that that God was his God no 
 
282 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 longer. If jou will but look for a moment with an 
 unbelieving eye from the cross, back upon the course 
 of that short life that now lay behind him : — a pro- 
 phetic dawn of millenniums in duration had preceded 
 him; John the Baptist had been, as it were, the 
 morning red announcing the nearness of his advent; 
 and when at length the fulness of time was come, did 
 he not go forth in the days of his manly vigour as a 
 bridegroom to woo his bride? How he went out in 
 search of that bride — how he followed her among the 
 rocky mountains, and in the lonely wilderness — how 
 he sought her with so many beauteous works, and 
 gracious words, at the cost of so many toils and 
 labours, to win her heart to himself! And what is 
 now the result of it all ? Instead of their heart, they 
 have given him a cross; instead of their hand, a 
 thorny crown; instead of their love, a cup of gall; 
 and beneath the cross there is not so much as one 
 voice to lay down the testimony : the man who hangs 
 there is He whom my soul loveth — no, there is not so 
 much as one! Can it then be, Jesus, that that 
 God who allows thy sun to set so gloomily when it 
 has scarcely risen, that God who at the end of such a 
 life nails thee to a cross of shame, can it be that he 
 is thy God? But, despite the tempter's insinuation, 
 Jesus exclaims. My God, my God ! 
 
 But undoubtedly there is a question here, and it is 
 an awful question ! Jesus asks why ? This is at any 
 time a fearful word, when it is the creature that uses 
 it to his Creator. Jesus asks why? Once in the 
 stormy passages of my life, when the weight of my 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHllIST. 283 
 
 burden of grief was too great for my shoulders to 
 bear, I raised tbis why. When my own being and 
 the being of all men appeared to me nothing more 
 than a sad, insoluble problem, I cried out, Why, 
 Lord ! And then it was thou, Jesus, who gavest me 
 an answer to my question — an answer so gracious and 
 so sweet, that all my doubtings were set at rest; it 
 was thou who saidst to the stormy questionings of my 
 heart regarding the providence of God, Peace be 
 still ! And can it be that now thou thyself turnest 
 with a doubtful "Why" to that black sky above 
 thee? Jesus, in that "Why" of thine I feel all 
 my questionings, all my doubtings, rising once more 
 loud and clamorous within my heart; I feel all my 
 old wounds opening and bleeding afresh. If Jesus 
 doubts, who shall believe? most fearful "Why" 
 beneath that darkened heaven, that dost ascend like 
 a pillar of smoke, with which all the peace and all the 
 happiness of my heart ascend! — But no, no; it is not 
 so. For how could he have called God twice His 
 God — and he surely knew well what was involved in 
 that — if such was the meaning of that "Why?" It 
 is not to be conceived tfiat this "Why" expressed the 
 dark questioning of a heart which had separated itself 
 from God. Did he not thereafter, with the words, 
 "It is finished" — in which there is implied the con- 
 sciousness that the problem of his life was solved — 
 terminate, with clear consciousness, all his grief and 
 all his pain? how then can this "Wherefore" be the 
 question of one who knows not the reason of his suf- 
 ferings? And did not the midnight sky above him 
 
284 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 announce that his God had not forsaken him? For 
 those dark clouds were not merely the voice of God 
 to the hardened people. To them, indeed, they 
 spoke. And what they said was, "Do not deceive 
 yourselves; I suffer not my beloved Son to die the 
 death of a malefactor unavenged." But to Jesus too 
 they spoke, and their voice to him was a second time, 
 "I have glorified my name, and will glorify it again." 
 No ; that "why" is manifestly not one which requires 
 or expects its answer from heaven; it has its answer 
 already in the depths of his own heart. Not as a 
 question addressed to God is it to be regarded, but as 
 a question addressed to his own heart, which even in 
 the oppression of death was conscious of the great end 
 of his life and sufferings. As in Gethsemane, " Father, 
 is it possible?" is followed immediately by, "Not my 
 will but thine be done;" so doubtless the answer to 
 this question too was given in his heart along with it, 
 to his own consolation. And on the whole, we are 
 not so much to view these words as a question on the 
 part of our Lord, but rather as a eri/ of lamentation, 
 similar to those expressions which occur in that psalm 
 of lamentation, as for instance, "Why is my heart 
 disquieted within me?" "Why art thou so far from 
 me?" "Wherefore hidest thou thy face?" 
 
 It is a cry of lamentation, a lamentation full of 
 horror, as is shown by the words which follow, "Why 
 hast thou forsaken me ?" Forsaken — is there a sadder 
 word in human speech than this? Forsaken — even 
 when it is only said of being forsaken by men, or, 
 when it is said of one that he is forsaken by his father 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 285 
 
 and his mother, how sad, how desolate is the sound ! 
 But here we read of being forsaken by God ! Jesus 
 is forsaken of God! dreary lamentation of my 
 Lord, what dost thou disclose to me? But, ye who 
 love him, be not discouraged at the sound. He is not 
 forsaken of his God, of whom even in death he calls 
 his God ; but he feels himself forsaken of his God, 
 inasmuch as everything which otherwise the nearness 
 of God to his people implies — assistance and relief, 
 peace, joy — is at this moment far from the soul of 
 Jesus. It was because at that moment the anguish 
 of his spirit was stronger than the sense of the near- 
 ness of his God that he cried, '^Why hast thou for- 
 saken me?" The man who in lively faith can say to 
 God, "My God," has heaven in his heart. But now, 
 although Jesus can still call God his God, yet behold, 
 the midnight blackness of the sky above him, has 
 brought with it night around the heaven of his heart ! 
 Let me now speak of the causes of this sense of God- 
 forsakenness. First, these words of Jesus are expres- 
 sive of the anguish of a human heart under the ago- 
 nies of the cross ; the sufferings of a man in close and 
 in solitary conflict with death. Those of you who 
 have seen a human being struggling in the arms of 
 death, know how severe that conflict is. He who has 
 never stood by the death-bed of a beloved friend, 
 and there seen life in stern fight with death, and has 
 never witnessed the pains and agonies of dissolving 
 nature; he who has never stood there and watched 
 the slow but irresistible progress of the enemy of 
 man, his advance marked by increasing weakness 
 25 
 
286 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 and distress; he who has never seen one dear to 
 him wrestling with death — 0, he can form no idea of 
 the Saviour's conflict in that weary hour ! What a 
 bitter thing is death ! And yet how much easier is it 
 for us sinners to die, than it was for that Holy One. 
 We breathe our last upon an easy couch; beside us 
 stands the minister of God with the holy sacrament, 
 the sign and seal of grace ; around us are those we 
 love, hearts to contend along with us, to pray for us, 
 hands to wipe from the brow the dews of death, and 
 gently close the eye. Thus we sinners die, and there 
 the holy Jesus struggles alone with death — alone, sus- 
 pended in mid-air between earth and heaven. His 
 couch is the tree of torture ; instead of tears, and the 
 sweet sympathy of friends, he hears nothing but the 
 scoffing of the crowd beneath his cross; instead of 
 hands to close his dying eye, there is a spear to pierce 
 his side! Yes, behold him! It is he into whose 
 hands the Father has committed all things in heaven 
 and on earth. He who, as he hung there upon the 
 accursed tree, the rejected of his people, and the 
 object of their mockery, knew all along that he was 
 come from God and went to God ! Consider all this, 
 and then you will have some idea of the anguish that 
 those words express, "Why hast thou forsaken me?" 
 When we die, we do but pay the penalty of our sin, 
 and this debt we mu^t discharge ; but he who died as 
 a malefactor upon Calvary, fought that fight of death, 
 drank that cup of gall freely, out of sovereign love ! 
 
 Bound upon the accursed tree, 
 Faint and bleeding, who is He?" 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 287 
 
 By the eyes so pale and dim, 
 
 Streaming blood and writhing limb ; 
 
 By the flesh with scourges torn; 
 
 By the crown of twisted thorn; 
 
 By the bafiied, burning thirst; 
 
 By the drooping, death-dewed brow — 
 
 Son of Man? 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou! 
 
 And yet it cannot have been the pain of death 
 alone that uttered its voice in that dreary cry. If, 
 when he was well nigh fainting beneath .the weight of 
 the cross, he could still say to those who were lament- 
 ing for him, "Weep not for me, but weep for your- 
 selves;" if even then he was less moved by his own 
 sufferings than by the thought of what was the occa- 
 sion of these sufferings, we may be certain that this 
 was also the case when he uttered that cry. And, 
 indeed, I may ask, Did it ever happen that a bene- 
 factor perished amid the derision of those whom, even 
 in dying, he blessed ; or that a king expired amid the 
 insults of his subjects ; or a father amid the mockery 
 of his children — were such acts of atrocity ever com- 
 mitted, without its being the case, that such scorn 
 pierced more deeply, and stung more keenly, than all 
 the pains with which death assailed the dying? Can 
 we then come to any other conclusion, than that a 
 wound more severe than any that death could inflict 
 upon Jesus was that which was caused by the mockery 
 and scorn of the men beneath his cross ? This is the 
 keenest sting in all his sorrows, this is the chief cause 
 of the cry of lamentation, "My God, my God, why 
 hast thou forsaken me?" Men and brethren, feel it 
 to be such! You may stand by the cross of Jesus 
 
288 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 and be deeply moved by the intensity of the grief 
 which weighed upon the divine sufferer. In this you 
 do well, for he loves your tears of sympathy. But 
 there are other tears which he loves still more, and 
 those are the tears of penitence. And thus those 
 awful words, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani," have also 
 a momentous lesson for us. Lay, then, to heart what 
 they contain more nearly concerning us. They con- 
 tain, in the first place, an accusation well fitted to 
 humble us. 
 
 True it is, we did not bring him to the place of 
 execution where he breathed out his holy soul, we did 
 not bind the scourges that smote his bleeding back, 
 we did not erect the cross upon which he groaned 
 Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani ; personally tve did nothing 
 of all this, but mankind did it, and therefore every 
 human being is called upon to weep. what a hu- 
 miliation is it for man, who prides himself upon his 
 divine origin, to think that, when He, who bore upon 
 every feature of his countenance, who disclosed in 
 every word of his mouth, his heavenly birth, came into 
 this world of ours, he should have been so deeply ig- 
 nored! Yes, we are the children of a divine Father 
 — but ah, to what an extent must man have forgotten 
 his celestial origin, before he could cause him who 
 was the express image of that Father's person, God 
 manifest in the flesh, to die the death of a malefactor ! 
 Consider this, ye well-meaning friends of humanity, ye 
 impassioned poets, ye eloquent orators ! Ye are wont 
 to declaim about the divine origin of the species, but, 
 above all the tumult of your eloquence and your exul- 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 289 
 
 tation, rises in silent and stern reality the black cross 
 of Golgotha, and humility is the lesson which its 
 voiceless awfulness proclaims! youth, full of 
 dreams, and frenzied with enthusiasm, which revellest 
 in thy high ideals of science and of art — the cross of 
 Golgotha stands out above thy dreams, and tells thee 
 of an alienation of man from God, which in thee and 
 in all men must be destroyed, if thy high ideals are 
 ever to become anything but dreams. Not for him, 
 0, not for him, was the tree on which he bled, a tree 
 of shame and infamy, but for us. In these days in 
 which we live, mankind, intoxicated with the progress 
 of modern times in the arts and sciences, is wont to 
 pride itself more than ever on its noble origin, its 
 royal descent, and therefore, especially in these days, 
 the preachers of the gospel of the cross must every- 
 where let their voice be heard, must everywhere 
 ask, if at the same time men really are progress- 
 ing in love to God — in humility — in penitence — in 
 faith — in self-denial? And if you cannot give this 
 question a joyous affirmative response, then the 
 preacher of the truth incurs no blame, when he desig- 
 nates all this rejoicing over the progress of man by 
 the name of one of the splendid lies of the age, by 
 which men are cheating themselves of the highest of 
 all blessings, ay, of the one thing needful. .Mortals, 
 lay aside those high ideas with which you do but 
 flatter your own foolish vanity. Here stands the 
 cross of Golgotha, it brings against you an accusa- 
 tion which well may humble your pride ; and at the 
 same time it points out, sternly and solemnly, that 
 25* 
 
290 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 path of progress which, better than all other ways, 
 men would do well to tread. Yes, we are a royal, a 
 heavenly race, and the Holy Scriptures hold up to us 
 our family tree; it is inscribed, moreover, on the 
 tables of our heart. But now in their fallen state the 
 King's children will nevermore attain to the sceptre 
 they have lost, until they stand as beggars before the 
 throne of God, and humbly confess from what a 
 height they fell. 
 
 To those, on the other hand, who have brought 
 themselves to sit down with bowed head and stream- 
 ing eye at the cross of Golgotha; who would advance 
 — so readily — upon the way which leads to God, 
 but feel that they still lag behind, to them I preach 
 the cross of Jesus and his cry, "My God, my God, 
 why hast thou forsaken me?" as a ground of consola- 
 tion full of immeasurable grace. For the blood 
 which was shed there was the blood of the new cove- 
 nant shed for many for the remission of sins. A new 
 covenant has been established, and this time it is not 
 by works of righteousness that we have done, but 
 according to his mercy that he saves us. The way to 
 heaven lies no longer upwards from beneath, but 
 downwards from above. Believers, the cross is no 
 longer a cross to you, to you it is no more a tree of 
 of shamq. The apostle has called it a throne of 
 grace, a throne which God himself has set up in order 
 to dispense to all who believe, the righteousness 
 which is well pleasing in his sight. The chastise- 
 ment of our peace was laid upon him. Beloved, does 
 the majesty of God appear anywhere in a more over- 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 291 
 
 whelming and wonderful way in the eyes of men, 
 than in that scheme of salvation in which he trans- 
 forms the very evil of man into a means and an 
 instrument of bringing to light his purposes of grace. 
 You remember on that last evening, how the soul 
 of the holy Jesus shuddered with horror, as long 
 as Judas, the son of perdition was present; and 
 that horror was caused by the thought of what 
 the deed he was going to perpetrate would involve 
 for him. But scarce had the traitor received the 
 sop, and gone out into the night, than his spirit, 
 rejoicing in the thought of what the divine counsel 
 was to bring out of this work of darkness for the 
 eternal blessedness of man, broke out in the exulting 
 words, "Now is the Son of Man glorified." There 
 is nothing fitted to move men more deeply, nothing 
 that can more strongly impress them with a sense 
 of the majesty of God, than the miracle of grace 
 by which the cross — for man the memorial of the 
 basest ignominy — is converted into a throne of 
 mercy, and every cry of anguish that the Saviour 
 uttered, changed into a source of consolation full of 
 immeasurable grace. The chastisement was upon him 
 in order that we might be healed. 
 
 Wherefore, then, dost thou faint, why art thou dis- 
 couraged ? If thy sins oppress thee, know that Jesus 
 hath borne them all. And now there is no more suf- 
 fering, no more penance to undergo on account of sin, 
 nothing but the fellowship of our souls with his sufi'er- 
 ings. His strong crying and tears, his grief and his 
 pain, his "My God, my God," his "Why," his for- 
 
292 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 saken heart — by faith they have all become ours, ours 
 to make us righteous before him. And thus my 
 Saviour and my God! — 
 
 Thus when my sins my weary bosom smart, 
 
 I'll plunge them in thy sorrow's ample tide, 
 And 'mid the anguish of my bruised heart, 
 
 I'll refuge seek within thy bleeding side. 
 My troubled soul is pacified when I 
 
 Myself forget in Jesus' dying woe ; 
 And sweetly weeps the penitential eye 
 
 Whose tears with thine, my Saviour, mingled flow. 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 ELI, ELI, LAMA SABACHTHANI? MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAST 
 THOU FORSAKEN ME? 
 
 Matthew xxvii. 45, 46. — Now, from the sixth hour there was dark- 
 ness over all the land unto the ninth hour. And about the ninth 
 hour, Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabach- 
 thani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
 me? 
 
 We are engaged in meditating upon an exclamation of 
 our Lord, which fills the human breast with a strange, 
 unwonted sense of awe. Christ, the helper of man in 
 all Ms need, he to whom all men cry when they are 
 forsaken — he it is who cries, "My God, my God, why 
 hast thou forsaken me?" Surely nature must have 
 been out of joint, and the pillars of the earth must have 
 been dissolved, when such a cry was heard ! Surely, 
 even if it had not been recorded, we must have believed 
 that at the sound nature hid her face as ashamed ; and 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 293 
 
 if, when Jesus felt himself forsaken, men did not 
 mourn, nature at least would put on her garb of woe. 
 And so indeed it was. The sun above the cross had 
 laid aside his brightness, when Jesus uttered that cry, 
 and the earth was enveloped in a gloomy pall. If we 
 have already felt strongly that the spectacle presented 
 to us in the cross of Christ is one such as the world 
 never saw before, and will never see again, this feeling 
 comes upon us here with an overwhelming power. You 
 will find the words of our text, as on the last occasion, 
 in Matthew xxvii. 45, 46: ^'JVow, from the sixth hour 
 there was darkness over all the land unto the ninth 
 hour. And about the ninth hour, Jesus cried with a 
 loud voice, saying, JEli, Eli, lama sahachthani? that 
 is to say. My God, my Grod, why hast thou forsaken 
 mer 
 
 Let us endeavour to lay to heart how, in these 
 words, Jesus identified himself with us in our great 
 guilt ; and how we should seek to identify ourselves 
 with him in his great sufferings. 
 
 Observe, how Jesus identified himself with us in 
 our great guilt. The words of which our Lord makes 
 use to express his affliction are taken from one of the 
 psalms. In other cases sorrow is wont to speak in its 
 own words. And we must conclude that, if, in this 
 moment of extremest need, the Saviour used not his 
 own words, but a text of the Holy Scriptures, in giv- 
 ing expression to his grief, the text he used must have 
 a very special significance for him, and a very deep 
 import for us. Let us, then, in the first place, direct 
 our attention to a consideration of the reasons why 
 
294 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 our Lord connected this psalm so very closely with 
 his own personal experience. Now, in general, of all 
 the books in the Bible, that of the Psalms is the one 
 which furnishes the most fitting utterances of the 
 deepest and most convulsive struggles of the human 
 heart. Luther says of this book, "Nowhere else 
 canst thou find deeper, or more touching words of 
 sadness, than are to be found in the lamentation 
 psalms ; there thou mayest look into the heart of the 
 saints, as into death, ay, as hell itself, so darkly is it 
 represented there, from the gloomy view of the wrath 
 of God." Now, perhaps the deepest notes of lamen- 
 tation that this book contains, which are as sad as 
 perhaps any human lips ever uttered, are to be heard 
 in the twenty-second Psalm. Who does not feel a 
 cold chill pass over his soul, when he reads these 
 mournful words, "I am poured out like water, all my 
 bones are out of joint, my heart is like wax, it is 
 melted in the midst of my bowels. My strength is 
 dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaveth to 
 my jaws ; and thou hast brought me into the dust of 
 death." Who does not, in reading these words, 
 think he is listening to a soul, from whose eyes light 
 and consolation have passed away for ever! Who 
 anticipates that upon such a depth of darkness the 
 sun will ever rise again? And yet all at once the 
 brightness of morning breaks upon its night. Would 
 that the experience — to which some of us can bear tes- 
 timony — were known to all here present, the blessed 
 experience of how the Spirit of God often breaks in 
 upon our most ardent petitions at a throne of grace 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 295 
 
 with an affirmative answer to our request. Then the 
 words are heard, Dry thine eyes, for thou art answered, 
 and thy prayers have come up with acceptance before 
 God. Thus does the morning-red look forth upon us, 
 from behind the blackest cloud of sorrow. ! what 
 an experience is that of God coming very near to 
 man. The Psalms, which indeed may be said to teach 
 us what praying means, furnish us with many similar 
 examples. And what an impressive instance we have 
 of this in the psalm before us. The soul which, but a 
 moments ago lay, with broken wing, panting upon the 
 ground, now suddenly is seen to rise and soar and 
 sing in the golden light of the sun. Thus from out 
 the darkness of the greatest gloom, the shout of joy 
 breaks forth, in grateful acknowledgment that the 
 prayer has been heard : " Ye that fear the Lord, praise 
 him ; all ye seed of Jacob, glorify him ; and fear him, 
 all ye the seed of Israel — for he hath not despised 
 nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted: neither 
 hath he hid his face from, but when he cried unto 
 him, he heard." And who is not amazed when, in 
 words of winged speech it is announced, that this grief 
 and this joy are to become as it were a banquet at 
 which all kingdoms of the earth and all the poor shall 
 rejoice, the knowledge of which shall extend far be- 
 yond the limits of time and space to the most distant 
 generation of the future, and to the utmost bounds of 
 the surface of the earth. " The meek shall eat, and 
 be satisfied. A^l the ends of the world shall remem- 
 ber and turn unto the Lord, and all the kindreds of 
 the nations shall worship before him. A seed shall 
 
296 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 serve him ; they shall make known the Lord to chil- 
 dren's children. They shall come and shall declare 
 his righteousness unto a people that shall be born." 
 Beloved in Christ, this scripture is fulfilled in your 
 ears. We have heard of that glory into which Christ 
 passed from out his great sufierings, we sit at the table 
 which has been prepared beneath his cross for men, 
 we are the seed that serve him, we declare his name 
 to children's children and to the people that is to be 
 born. Do you understand now why the Lord should 
 have selected just these words when he poured out the 
 grief of his soul ? Is not all prophecy given in order 
 that we may learn that, whatever may occur in God's 
 world, nothing can take place that is not foreseen by 
 him; and it is so, in order that mortals may be well 
 assured that, even when what happens is most in oppo- 
 sition to all human expectation, it is nevertheless 
 nothing else but what has been decreed long before 
 our calculations, even from eternity, by a wisdom that 
 cannot err. ''As it is written' — these words the 
 Lord seems always to brandish like a shield, clear and 
 polished, from which all the arrows of doubt glance 
 off. And these words, "As it is written," are our 
 shield, too, my brethren ! When in the hour of dan- 
 ger, the disciples fled from their Lord and left him 
 alone with his enemies, Jesus calmly said, "As it is 
 written." "As it is written" — this word he kept be- 
 fore his mental eye, when a Judas became his betrayer, 
 and when, in company with malefactors, he journeyed 
 to Golgotha. And now as the waves of woe are closing 
 over his head, it is from these words that he draws 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 297 
 
 consolation. If any one of us, my brethren, could 
 see his conflicts and his pains, his trials and his sor- 
 rows, as they are registered in that book which God 
 keeps concerning us all ; and could read there, or ever 
 they were realized, " So many days of weeping are 
 decreed to this my child, and so many days of joy, 
 thus often will he be defeated and fall, thus often will 
 he arise and conquer;" 0, if any one could but dis- 
 cern the balance in which our powers in one scale are 
 measured against our burdens in the other, how would 
 he thus be armed with new strength ! Christians see 
 this indeed to some extent, and hence their resolution, 
 hence their courage in the fight ; but it is only with 
 the eye of faith that they see it. The Saviour, on the 
 other hand, could read it with his bodily eye on the 
 page of prophecy that had foretold his sufferings and 
 his glory. You see then how, in this the hour of his 
 bitter suffering, the Saviour went back in spirit to the 
 voices of ancient prophecy, and in its language breathed 
 out the lament of his soul. 
 
 "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" 
 Such was the cry that sounded up the midnight 
 heaven. Even in that hour God was still his God, as 
 is testified by the repeated invocation. Even then 
 was it true, "My Father does not leave me alone;" 
 but the inexhaustible spring of blessedness and joy, 
 which used to well up from that fellowship with the 
 Father, flowed now no more. my brothers, what is 
 it which wrings from this forsaken heart these deepest 
 tones of sorrow? What crushing burden lies upon 
 his soul, that it should utter so heavy a groan ? We 
 26 
 
298 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 behold the back all furrowed with stripes, the brow 
 pierced with thorns, the parched lips, the bleeding 
 prints of the nails. We see all this, but it does not 
 sufficiently explain the mystery; for we know that 
 many others have suffered all this, who have not 
 poured so sad a plaint as he did. thou noble Head 
 of that Church which thy blood has redeemed, if thy 
 poor children and members, if a Huss and a Polycarp 
 have stood firm in the agonies of death, strong in fel- 
 lowship with thee — how is it that thou didst become 
 so faint? 
 
 My brethren, we must here bear in mind that we 
 Christians have a very different example of endurance 
 and fortitude in affliction, from that with which the 
 wise men of ancient times present us. They regarded 
 it as the highest triumph over suffering, to be able to 
 say to pain, Thou art not pain — despising it, instead 
 of conquering it. Yain, presumptuous self-deception ! 
 such as, notwithstanding, may also be discovered in 
 many of us, although we know in the secret of our 
 hearts that the thought is vain. No; the pain of our 
 miserable body, our sicknesses and our wounds, form 
 part of those thorns and thistles, which, since the fall, 
 the earth has brought forth in such plenty to man; 
 and has, moreover, brought forth, in accordance with 
 a divine purpose — so that to despise and forget pain, 
 instead of combatting against it, and triumphing over 
 it, is to fight against the fatherly purposes of God con- 
 cerning us. Therefore, Christians ought to be sensi- 
 ble to pain, and acknowledge it as that which it is ; 
 but you must, at the same time summon up strong 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OP CHRIST. 299 
 
 thoufilits ao;ainst it, so that when the waves of afflic- 
 tion rise around you, they may be beaten back, and 
 again rolled into the bed in which they flow. That is 
 what suffering as Christians means. Afflicted Chris- 
 tians ! let it not be your ambition to emulate your un- 
 believing fellow-sufferers in the art of holding back 
 your feelings and restraining them within your breast. 
 No, rather give free expression to the pent-up feelings 
 of your heart ; but, at the same time, along with the 
 voice of lamentation, let the prayer of your confidence, 
 and your resignation, be heard. It should therefore 
 no longer surprise us, that our Lord and Saviour 
 should have found the gall so bitter, and that his soul 
 shrank back from it so sensitively; and there is 
 nothing strange in the idea, that in that cry of la- 
 mentation, this sense of bodily suffering had also a 
 part. 
 
 But supposing this to have been the case, we feel 
 that the sense of physical pain alone does not suffice 
 to account for the greatness of his grief. That ex- 
 ternal agony which the eye can see, is not enough to 
 explain it, there must have been some invisible burden 
 weighing down his soul, when he cried, " My God, my 
 God, why hast thou forsaken me?" In his lifetime he 
 had never been an object of solicitude to himself; he 
 had never sought his own, but always the things of 
 others. And surely, if, in this his last moment, the 
 only thought that filled his breast, that drew from him 
 this cry, was his own distress, he could no longer have 
 been the same. Could it indeed be, that he who, when 
 he was sinking beneath the cross, exclaimed, "<.Weep 
 
800 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 not for we, but for yourselves," wept and lamented 
 now, alone, or chiefly, on account of his own sufferings ? 
 He who, upon the cross, as they were piercing his hands 
 and his feet, could forget his own sorrow, and pray for 
 the forgiveness of their sins, can he now have, in his 
 own sorrow, forgotten their guilt ? No, if even to the 
 highest of his sufferings, Jesus remained true to himself, 
 then we may, without hesitation, affirm, that in this 
 soul-cry of anguish he thought more on others than on 
 himself, and that his soul was so dark and troubled, 
 more from the consideration of their guilt, than of what 
 he was himself enduring. Consider : He, into whose 
 hands all power is given in heaven and earth, hangs 
 there, between earth and heaven, naked and bleeding, 
 and by the hands of wicked men he has been brought 
 so low. He has waited from hour to hour in the hope 
 that at least one heart in that vast crowd beneath 
 may soften, but he has heard only the voice of mock- 
 ery, and never a voice of love. And while men pour 
 forth scorn and insult, nature arrays herself in mourn- 
 ing — thus delivering a testimony to the Lord of nature 
 of the enormity of the guilt which men are there 
 incurring, and the blackness of the crime they are 
 there committing. Then does there arise before his 
 soul, as it had never arisen before, the thought of the 
 fearful apostacy of that race, which had been once 
 created to be the children of God! It is a sea of 
 gloom whose waves surround his soul, upon whose sur- 
 face the denial of a Peter, the treachery of a Judas, 
 the insolence of a Caiaphas, the blasphemy of a male- 
 factor> rise like so many swelling billows. The thought 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 301 
 
 of his own sorrow falls completely into the background, 
 while that of their guilt stands out prominently before 
 his mental eye ; and in the grievous oppression of his 
 spirit he looks for consolation to that word of prophe- 
 cy, in which, along with the description of his tem- 
 poral grief, is foretold the eternal glory which should 
 follow, and cries, with the opening words of that pro- 
 phecy, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
 me?" Yes, verily, God is his God still, as the twice- 
 spoken cry of appropriation proclaims, but that joy of 
 heart, in which at other seasons the nearness of God 
 was made manifest, had for the moment vanished 
 away, in the contemplation of the great guilt of his 
 human brethren. 
 
 Jesus! with thy sorrow ne'er 
 Other sorrow can compare. 
 Who thy dying pangs can see, 
 And not melt in sympathy? 
 For our lost and guilty race 
 Thou hast bled — wondrous grace ? 
 Love it is has brought thee low, 
 And thy soul with sorrow torn, 
 Made thee taste such bitter woe. 
 How can I such love return? 
 
 Such is the question which he puts, who experiences 
 this love even to his last expiring breath. And this 
 question we put also. And to it I answer. Yes, Chris- 
 tian soul, thou canst, thou must return it, for one love 
 deserves another. As Jesus identified himself with us 
 in our great guilt, so shouldst thou seek to identify 
 thyself with him in his great sufferings, 
 26* 
 
302 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 One love deserves another. As he has made thy 
 guilt his guilt, so shalt thou make his sorrow thy sor- 
 row. Soul, the cross of Christ is to become thine 
 altar of penitence. Then for the first time shalt thou 
 learn what true repentance is, when thou dost make 
 the cross of Christ the altar of thy penitence. It is 
 an altar so solemn and so stern, but yet so full of con- 
 solation ; — dark clouds hang above it, but through the 
 darkness a rainbow shines, the rainbow of a new cove- 
 nant which God has made with sinners. It is a stern, 
 solemn altar, for the Saviour's cry of lamentation 
 rings above it, as a cry of horror at man's depravity ; 
 but it is at the same time full of consolation, for that 
 cry of lamentation is also a proof how strong the love 
 of Christ must have been, to go down after them into 
 so deep an abyss of guilt. Here indeed, at this altar, 
 you will learn true repentance, if you will only iden- 
 tify yourselves with your Saviour in his great suffer- 
 ings. You may have already experienced sorrow and 
 penitence on account of sin, but they have not sprung 
 from the proper source. Your sin has made you 
 sorry, merely because of the consequences and the 
 judgments which followed in its train; you feared the 
 anger of God, but not your sin. 0, is it not all too 
 true — many of you would willingly spend an eternity 
 in the enjoyment of sin, were it not for the bitterness 
 of the feeling it leaves behind it! Yes, there are 
 undoubtedly many here present, who, were they to 
 examine themselves somewhat closely, would have to 
 confess, that they could — ! how readily — retain all 
 their vanity and sensuality, if they could only take 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 303 
 
 them with them into blessedness, and remain the ser- 
 vants of sin in the realms of glory ! But, I ask, is it 
 to love God, when a man only fears his judgments ? 
 Woe unto those, who, even in the flames of hell, long 
 to flee the burning pangs of the place of torment, but 
 care not to flee from their sin ! God's word cannot 
 lie : the damnation of man does not cease one moment 
 sooner than his love of sin ; for by that sin, the worm 
 that gnaws and dies not is ever brought forth anew. 
 
 Others among you are sorry for your sin, because 
 you feel that you might be something better than the 
 mere slaves of every passion. You repent of your 
 sin, indeed, but wherefore? Merely because it hum- 
 bles you in your own eyes. Friends, it is well when 
 a man does not require to be ashamed of himself; but 
 if your only reason for repentance be because you 
 cannot think so highly of yourselves as you would, if 
 you arrange the matter of your sin so entirely with 
 yourself alone, and not with your God; why, then, 
 that only proves that pride, and nothing else, is the 
 source of your repentance. ! with how many tears 
 of penitence does a repentance like this — a repent- 
 ance carried out so utterly without reference to God 
 — require itself to be repented of? But, when, on 
 the other hand, a heart becomes soft beneath the 
 cross of Christ, 0, how earnest, burning, pure, are 
 the tears it weeps ! And how bitter, too ! For the 
 suff*erings, which the Holy One of God endured on 
 account of our sins, teach us in what light they are 
 regarded by God, and open up the deepest fountains 
 of our sorrow. If, when he, who knew no sin, looked 
 
304 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST.' 
 
 into the abyss of human depravity, all joy passed 
 away, so that he must cry out, "My God, my God, 
 why hast thou forsaken me?" what shall the guilty 
 do? Here, here at the cross of the Lord, and as 
 that cry of his falls upon your ear, learn rightly to 
 understand, what the apostle means when he says, 
 " Know ye not that as many of you as are baptized 
 into Christ, are baptized into his death?" Know ye 
 not that ye are baptized to the end that, in the con- 
 templation of his sufferings and death, your old man 
 may die, and that in his resurrection you may rise 
 again ? You would kill the old man within you, but, 
 do with him what you will, he will not die; no, not 
 though you torture and torment him, though you 
 sting and consume him. In one form — in that of 
 idleness, for instance, or of covetousness, or of lust — 
 you have buried him ; but see, in the form of pride 
 he stands before you again. No; if he is to die at 
 all, he must die in the death of Christ — in the pain 
 and suffering of dying love must he die. You know 
 of that contest which the gentle sunbeam once waged 
 with the blustering storm, as to which should first 
 succeed in making the traveller put off his cloak, and 
 how the gentle sunbeam proved in the end victorious. 
 You may storm away at your old man, with resolu- 
 tions and commands, but only the soft ray of the love 
 of Christ can make him die. Yes, Lord, thy death 
 will be the death of the old man in us! "Now if we 
 be dead with Christ," says the apostle, "we believe 
 that we shall also live with him." Yes; we not only 
 believe that, we have experienced it ourselves. Ye 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 305 
 
 who are dead with Christ, ye have felt how in that 
 death the power of your resurrection lies. In sorrow 
 of itself there is no life; sorrow is infirmity; it is a 
 paralyzing of strength and activity; therefore says 
 the apostle, "The sorrow of the world worketh 
 death." Ye who, till now, have sought to mourn 
 for sin, apart from Christ, have you never experi- 
 enced what a paralyzing, enfeebling thing such a 
 sorrow is, and how it nowise makes a man stronger to 
 advance on his way. On the contrary, your cour- 
 age becomes feebler and feebler, while at the same 
 time the sting of conscience becomes more and more 
 awake. How sad does the call to forsake and deny 
 one's self sound, when one loves what one is required 
 to renounce! How hard and disappointing do the 
 words "fight," "combat," "conquer," sound to one 
 who has already encountered many a defeat ! How 
 can one make good that which lies behind, when one 
 has not even the assurance of being able to make that 
 which lies before any better ? Sorrow without Christ, 
 repentance without Christ, is death. But to repent 
 at the altar of the cross of Christ, that is resurrection, 
 that is life. There is pleasure in every pang into 
 which the thought of love enters, and therefore in 
 every such pang there is strength. One love deserves 
 another ! cries the soul, when she has dried her weep- 
 ing eyes, and goes forth and works. And the work 
 which she then has done, it was for her Lord, and 
 from love to him that she did it. We walk as dying, 
 and behold we live ! Daily we die, and daily we cele- 
 brate our resurrection from the dead! Our old man 
 
306 SUFFERINGS AND. DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 perislieth, but our new man is renewed day by day. 
 Like the other children of men, "we are troubled on 
 every side; but we are not distressed; we are per- 
 plexed, but not in despair; always bearing about in 
 the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life 
 also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body." 
 Thus spake Paul, and there are in the Church of the 
 Redeemed many thousands who can re-echo his words. 
 And thus, with us too, the cry of lamentation will end 
 in joy and praise. Lamentation marks the beginning 
 of our way, as it opens the 22d Psalm; but as that 
 psalm concludes with songs of rejoicing, so shall hal- 
 lelujahs mark the triumphant close of our heavenward 
 journey. To thee, thou faithful Redeemer, be 
 eternal honour and praise, for thou hast descended so 
 far down into the depths of our misery, in order that 
 thou mightest raise us up again with thee. 
 
 Alas! in this poor life 
 
 But little I can do, 
 To show my love to Him who died 
 
 That I might live anew. 
 
 But one thing I will strive 
 
 With patience to attain — 
 That Jesus' death and sufferings may 
 
 Still in my heart remain. 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 307 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 
 JESUS SAITH, I THIRST. 
 
 John xix. 28. — After this, Jesus knowing that all things were now 
 accomplished, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, saith, I thirst. 
 
 • 
 
 Beneath the cross of our Lord we have stood listen- 
 ing to the heart-rending cry of lamentation, in which, 
 under that darkened heaven, the deep sorrow of his 
 heart found utterance. We shuddered as we heard 
 the Son of God exclaim, "Eli, Eli, lama sabach- 
 thani?" but beneath the cross that cry only called 
 forth renewed mockery and derision. "This man 
 calleth for Elias," cried the scoffers. By this time 
 the natural life of our Lord was entirely exhausted 
 by the long period of uninterrupted suffering he had 
 undergone. Nearly twenty hours had passed since 
 his body had been refreshed by food ; and what hours 
 those had been ! Who shall tell the amount of woe 
 which had passed over his soul, from the time when 
 he drank the cup, commemorative of dying love, on 
 to this moment! Gethsemane — the betrayal — the 
 examination before Annas, before Caiaphas, Pilate, 
 and Herod, and before Pilate a second time — the way 
 to the cross — the six hours in which he hung between 
 earth and heaven, his bleeding wounds exposed to the 
 heat of the mid-day sun — the death-struggle now 
 beginning, and the agony of his holy soul, so much 
 more hard to bear, as it groaned beneath the load 
 of the guilt of humanity! "My strength is dried up 
 
308 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaveth to mj jaws." 
 These words were now literally fulfilled. You know 
 how much the dying often suffer from thirst. Jesus 
 accordingly allows himself a slight physical refresh- 
 ment. The words in which this is stated are con- 
 tained in John xix. 28: ''After this, Jesus knowing 
 that all things were now accomplished, that the Scrip- 
 ture might he fulfilled, saith, I thirst,'' 
 
 Let us consider what this cry, uttered by Jesus in 
 such a moment, teaches us of him, and what exhorta- 
 tion it addresses to us. What it teaches us of him : 
 the helplessness, the voluntariness, and the divine 
 necessity of his bitter sorrow. What exhortation it 
 addresses to us: it exhorts us to resignation even in 
 our greatest need; to resoluteness even in the severest 
 trial; to humiliation on occasion of even the smallest 
 sins. 
 
 Christ, who, from love to me didst cry upon the 
 cross, "I thirst," let refreshing waters flow into my 
 soul from that thirst of thine ! If you would experi- 
 ence this, look here and behold, first, the helplessness 
 of the Son of God in his bitter agony. This we see 
 more clearly from this slight incident, than from all 
 that precedes. One might witness a man tortured by 
 cruel tormentors, and subjected to the intensest suf- 
 ferings of which human nature is susceptible, and yet 
 not think of him as altogether helpless, if only he did 
 not give utterance to a longing for relief. It is not 
 always a sign of true magnanimity, it does not always 
 challenge unbounded admiration, when a martyr suf- 
 fers in silence; for silence is often nothing more than 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 309 
 
 tlie sign of defiance and of pride. It is only when 
 that silence springs from repose in God — when the 
 suffering martyr is peaceful and at rest in him — that 
 it becomes true magnanimity. Now it was this Divine 
 self-possession that reigned in the Saviour's breast. 
 This he preserved all along, from the time when, 
 in the garden of Gethsemane, and amidst his chosen 
 disciples, he allowed the pent-up torrent of his grief, 
 for a brief space, to take its course. This he retained 
 as he stood before Annas, and Caiaphas, and Pilate, 
 and Herod ; as he bore his cross ; as he fought through 
 the six weary hours. Not once all the while did he 
 call upon man for help; not once, up to that last cry, 
 "Eli! Eli!" did he utter a single complaint in the 
 ears of men: of his sufferings he spoke only to God. 
 And when, at the beginning of his sufferings, they 
 would give him refreshment, and handed to him wine 
 mingled with myrrh, in order thus to deaden the sense 
 of pain, he refused it. But now Jesus asks relief. He, 
 to whom men stretch forth their hands in their time of 
 need, asks relief. And from whom does he seek it? 
 From those who, at that moment, alone could grant 
 him anything — his own executioners — Jesus suppli- 
 cates his executioners for a draught to mitigate his 
 thirst! Where, I ask, in all the previous history, 
 have we seen a sadder picture of his helplessness than 
 is here presented? 0! our hearts can scarce endure 
 to see him brought so low. He whom the heavens 
 obey is at the lowest verge of human want. He whom 
 angels had served in the wilderness, who with five 
 loaves had satisfied five thousand men, cries, "I 
 27 
 
310 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 thirst!" And yet, what a ray of divine light falls 
 upon this extreme destitution of the Saviour, when we 
 consider, at the same time, with what voluntariness 
 he gave himself up to it. 
 
 You recollect how, at the very commencement of 
 that night of suffering, when the hand of the fiery dis- 
 ciple seized his sword, and, thrusting at the servant of 
 the high-priest, smote off his ear, Jesus said to him, 
 (Matt. xxvi. 52,) "Put up again thy sword into its 
 place ; thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my 
 Father, and he shall presently give me more than 
 twelve legions of angels." Never lose sight, I beseech 
 you, of the fact that he, who there was scourged and 
 spat upon, who here hangs upon the cross, knew then, 
 and knows every moment now, that troops of celestial 
 spirits stand and wait his nod. Yes, in those hands 
 pierced by nails, the unseen sceptre of universal empire 
 rests; in that breast, wrung by mortal agony, there 
 still dwells the consciousness that he is a king, a king 
 who voluntarily submits himself to all the outrage and 
 all the suffering that his rebellious subjects inflict upon 
 him. It was of his own free will, that he, whose word 
 of omnipotence had fed the five thousand in the desert, 
 descended so low as to cry to men, ay, and these men 
 his own executioners too, "I thirst !" And what does 
 this voluntariness indicate ? Why does he freely submit 
 to all, not seeking to deliver himself from those waves 
 of tribulation which are closing together over his head ? 
 Now if he who endures all this, so spontaneously, holds 
 in his pierced hand the invisible sceptre, if he freely 
 allows himself to be reduced to such extremity, surely 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 311 
 
 this appears to point us to some sacred, some myste- 
 rious necessity, according to which men could not have 
 been redeemed otherwise than by a suffering Saviour, 
 by a Saviour who, in the form of a servant, should 
 descend into the very lowest depths of humiliation. 
 
 And thus, this saying of Scripture points us to the 
 necessity of his sufferings. He had previously refused 
 to receive the stupifying drug which was given out of 
 mercy to the crucified, in order to render them insensi- 
 ble to the intense agony of the cross. In this he showed 
 that he would drink to the very dregs the bitter cup 
 which his Father had given him. He thereby declared 
 that there was a divine necessity, in accordance with 
 which he must descend into the blackest night of sorrow. 
 He would drink, you see, the whole cup of affliction, 
 and would drink it in the fullest consciousness. Those 
 words, "It is finished," with which he bowed his head 
 and gave up the ghost, were doubtless spoken with 
 reference to the whole work which, whether by doing 
 or by suffering, he had completed on the earth. It 
 was, however, chiefly of that great crowning act of 
 suffering that he said, "It is finished." It seems as 
 if in uttering that cry he removes from his lips the 
 bitter cup, after having drained it to the very dregs. 
 Now, this is also expressly said in the words of our 
 text. We read that it was when Jesus knew that all 
 things were accomplished, and not before, that he 
 allowed himself that refreshment, and cried, "I thirst!" 
 Herein is expressed, moreover, as we said, the stern 
 necessity of his sufferings. Here, again, that "must" 
 i5omes in — that stern and inflexible necessity — of 
 
312 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 which he had spoken previously, when he said, " So 
 must the Son of Man be lifted up;" and again, after 
 his resurrection, when cross and sufferings were over, 
 when he said, ''Must not Christ have suffered these 
 things?" And why must Christ have suffered all 
 these things? The answer is twofold: as the Propi- 
 tiation for our sins, and as the Pattern of our right- 
 eousness. 
 
 As the Propitiation for our sms, Christ must suffer 
 these things. Sin demands punishment. This truth 
 is written in the word of God, it is inscribed in our 
 own conscience. In exact proportion to the sin we 
 have committed in our lives, is the punishment which 
 we deserve. There is no making amends for the evil 
 we have done, for every day has its own claims upon 
 us, and allows us no time, even if we had the power, 
 to wash away the guilt of yesterday. Sinners, do not 
 imagine that your weak obedience of to-day can atone 
 for the sins of yesterday. What is done, is done; 
 your committed sins stand out before your conscience, 
 and cannot be destroyed by anything you can do ; and 
 thus they stand out also before your God. Yes, they 
 are indestructible, for conscience has a memory in 
 which many things may grow dim, but from which 
 nothing can entirely pass away. In another world, 
 where self-deception is no longer possible, the dim 
 picture of your conscience will be retouched with fresh 
 colouring, and all that has been traced there will come 
 out with fearful distinctness. There will then rise up 
 before the mfemory of your conscience, your sins of 
 thoughtlessness, your broken vows, the powers you 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 313 
 
 have thrown away, the seasons of grace you have 
 neglected to improve. There you will recognize all 
 the transgressions and all the omissions of the divine 
 law, which have marked your earthly day, now gone 
 by for ever ; and you will feel, with awful power, that 
 these sins were not sins against yourself merely, not 
 merely sins against other men, no, you will then 
 acknowledge that they were sins against God. And 
 what if in that day your only cry is. The past is past ; 
 there is no help for it now ! Sinners, as your sins 
 stand out before your conscience, so they stand out 
 also before God, and no to-day can wash away the 
 guilt of yesterday ! Now it is just because no man 
 can by his weak virtues in the present make atone- 
 ment for the faults of the past, it is because conscience 
 cannot allow the sin of any man to be forgiven with- 
 out first being punished, that it was not enough in 
 God merely to proclaim forgiveness of sins, and to 
 announce to men by a decree of Omnipotence, that 
 their iniquities were blotted out for ever. No: some- 
 thing more was necessary. It was necessary that he, 
 who knew no sin, should die the death of the trans- 
 gressor, in order that in his sufferings guilty men 
 might feel what their sins deserved, and that believing 
 men might find peace of conscience in the fellowship 
 of his sufferings. Thoughtless humanity, sin is no 
 trifling matter ; it is the violation of a Divine, an eter- 
 nal law, it is the disturbance of a Divine and sacred 
 order. Therefore no sin can be forgiven thee with 
 regard to which thou dost not feel, that what gives it 
 its sting is this, that it lifts itself up in opposition to 
 27* 
 
314 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 the law of thy God. And therefore can there be no 
 forgiveness for thee, even in Christ, unless thou, as 
 often as thou hast recourse to his grace, dost feel 
 in the fellowship of his sufferings, what thy sin de- 
 serves. 
 
 Further, I say, Christ must suffer these things as 
 the Pattern of our righteousness. We need a spot- 
 less exemplar in all our doing and working, one which 
 shall draw us heavenwards, so often as we are in dan- 
 ger of sinking in the dust and turmoil of life ; and we 
 need a spotless, holy exemplar for our hours of suffer- 
 ing. Actions done in a way truly well-pleasing to 
 God are indeed rare, but how much rarer is it to see 
 sufferings endured in a way well-pleasing to him. 
 Indeed, I know not if I may not say, that it is for all 
 of us a much harder thing to suffer according to the 
 will of God, than to act. Might we not all with truth 
 affirm, that it was in our hours of suffering that we 
 first experienced what a want of confidence in God, 
 and what a perverseness against him, dwells in the 
 human heart. And therefore I will cry to the cross 
 of Christ, "Hail, hail, thou cross of my Lord, for it 
 was thou that first didst teach me how men may suffer 
 in a way well-pleasing to God ! thou dear, sacred 
 symbol of Christendom, how hast thou during these 
 well-nigh two thousand years, which have passed since 
 thou wast planted on the earth, how hast thou brought 
 down the powers of heaven to the help of mortals in 
 their hours of affliction. How many a rising storm 
 and whirlwind of the agitated heart has the sight of 
 thee laid to rest ? In the chamber of sickness, in the 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 315 
 
 prison, in the hospital, on the field of battle, how have 
 oil and wine flowed from thee into the wounds of men !" 
 do not despise the crucifix ! It is the sign of suf- 
 fering and of dying love, and reminds man of that 
 great example who showed him how he should sufi'er 
 and how he should die. Rather let the sacred symbol 
 be hung up in every sick-room, in every hospital, in 
 every prison, that it may there in silence teach men 
 to suffer in a way well-pleasing to God ! Thus Christ 
 must have suifered these things to this end also, that 
 in those hours when the heart is most desponding, in 
 the hours of darkness and afiliction, we may confide 
 in the fellowship of his sufi*erings, and that our diso- 
 bedient heart may find a pattern in his holy obe- 
 dience. 
 
 And therefore shall this word uttered by the Sa- 
 viour on the cross become to us a word of exhortation. 
 It shall exhort us to resignation even in our greatest 
 need, to resoluteness even in our severest trial, to hu- 
 miliation on occasion of even the smallest sins. 
 
 That word of the Saviour upon the cross, which 
 discloses to us how extreme his helplessness was, should 
 make our hearts resigned and obedient in our time of 
 greatest helplessness and need. my friends, we 
 should all be contented and happy, if we did not enter 
 upon life, making upon it so many unwarrantable 
 claims. We demand of life enjoyment as our right, 
 hence we are not grateful for it when it is given 
 us out of grace; hence, moreover, when God de- 
 nies it us, our froward heart thinks it is entitled 
 to murmur. Christians, forget not, I beseech you, 
 
316 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 that you have come into this life, to the end not that 
 ye might enjoy it, but that in it ye might be trained 
 for another and a better life. Now, you think it a 
 strange thing that days of darkness should ever cross 
 your path ; but if you held fast this truth, and bore 
 constantly in mind that you are upon the earth in 
 order to be educated here for heaven, ye would rather 
 expect your present lot to be one of tribulation and 
 suffering, according to those words of Peter, when he 
 says, " Beloved, count it not strange concerning the 
 fiery trial, which is to try you, as though some strange 
 thing happened unto you; but rejoice, inasmuch as 
 ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings." And, in- 
 deed, they alone are true Christians, who are in so 
 close a fellowship with their Saviour, that they do not 
 look for any other treatment in the world than that 
 which he received; even as John writes in his Epistle, 
 "As he was in the world, so are we in the world:" 
 and thus they make up their minds not to expect the 
 favour and approbation of a world, which bestowed 
 only its hatred upon him, or that for them there will 
 be only laughter, where he often wept, or that they 
 will be garlanded with roses, where their Saviour 
 was crowned with thorns. And, indeed, the resigna- 
 tion which they are called to practise is not so diffi- 
 cult for them, for love makes it easy. For love 
 implies also fellowship with the sufferings of the 
 object loved, and thus believers are happy even in 
 tribulation, because they experience in all their suf- 
 ferings fellowship with their Lord. Jesus willingly 
 descended even into that state of extreme wantj of 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 317 
 
 which we read in the text ; Jesus suffered nakedness, 
 hunger, and thirst to pass over him, in order that 
 men, even in circumstances of extreme destitution, 
 might be able to draw consolation amid their trials 
 from the thought of the fellowship of his sufferings. 
 He became poor, in order that the poor might take 
 comfort in the thought that he shared their poverty. 
 He let himself be bound, that the captive might be 
 comforted in fellowship with him. He endured the 
 burning fever, he underwent the agony of death, in 
 order that the sick and the dying might draw their 
 consolation from the thought of fellowship with him. 
 0, how painless do all the thorns of affliction become, 
 when one views them as forming a portion of his 
 crown of thorns; how much more easily is every 
 burden borne, which one regards as part of the cross 
 of Christ; and the fainting soul cries ''I thirst" with 
 a less heavy heart, when it knows that it is only echo- 
 ing back the voice of its dying Saviour! But remem- 
 ber, if we would understand the mystery of the fel- 
 lowship of his sufferings, it is above all things neces- 
 sary that we love him, for it is only love that knows 
 how to rejoice in the blessed sympathy of suffering. 
 
 Observe, further, how this cry of our Lord exhorts 
 us to resoluteness in the severest trial. Until he 
 knew that all things were accomplished, he restrained 
 every expression of his distress. Children of afflic- 
 tion, ye are too feeble! Doubtless, it is human for a 
 man to seek to share his sorrow with one he loves. 
 And, therefore, our Lord himself had an hour when 
 he could say to his faithful disciples, "My soul is sor- 
 
318 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 rowful, even unto death," and could ask them to 
 watch and pray with him. But those men were the 
 men of the Saviour's heart, and even their sympathy 
 he sought only for one hour. The rest of the time he 
 spoke of his sorrow alone with his God. beloved, 
 ye make too much of your afflictions in saying so 
 much about them to men, and so little to God. It is 
 because people will not learn to suffer in silence 
 before the Lord, that one trial after another comes to 
 many a soul, without affecting it any more than the 
 stones of the street are affected by the sun and the 
 rain. This is the real cause of our afflictions bearing 
 so little fruit. You must learn to understand the 
 meaning of these words, "Possessing the soul in 
 quietness before the Lord.'* Do you know what 
 Luther says, "Suffer and be still, tell no man thy 
 sorrow, trust in God, his help will not fail thee.'* 
 This is what Scripture calls "keeping silence before 
 God." To talk much of one's afflictions to men 
 makes one weak and unmanly; but to tell one's sor- 
 rows to him who seeth in secret, makes one strong 
 and calm. Your fire of tribulation is like a flickering 
 flame, which the wind drives to and fro ; but do but 
 carry it in secret before the Lord, and it will become 
 a fire of sacrifice which will peacefully ascend to 
 heaven. that from him, who for six long weary 
 hours upon the cross, was silent before his God, we 
 might learn what it is to keep silence before God in 
 our affliction. We would then be much more able 
 to bear it. 
 Finally, this saying of Jesus on the cross exhorts 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 319 
 
 US to humiliation on occasion of even the smallest 
 sins. Fellow-Christians, if Christ must have suffered 
 all these things, in order to show us how deeply sin is 
 opposed to the law of God, and what, as^ sinners, we 
 have deserved, can we any more make light of sin? 
 Formerly, when I knew little about the nature of sin, 
 and thought of it merely as the transgression of a law 
 which I had imposed upon myself, how unmolested 
 did I allow the evil thought to riot in my breast, how 
 lightly did I permit the idle words to flow from my 
 •lips, how little did I concern myself about those sins 
 of omission which marked every day of my life ! But 
 now, when I behold the cross of Calvary, and hear it 
 proclaim to me, and to all the world, what sin is in the 
 sight of God ; when, in the bitter experience of my 
 own corrupt heart, I begin to see what sin is, ah ! now 
 it is that conscience awakes from its slumbers; now it 
 is that even my smallest sins burn in my breast. 
 Against thee, Lord, against thee only have I sinned, 
 do I cry; and the sin which required such an expia- 
 tion by thee, I shall never more make light of. 
 Lord Jesus, thy cross shall teach me every day to 
 know the true import of my sin. Yes, I will praise 
 thee, that thou hast purchased an eternal forgiveness 
 for my sins; I will, since I dare, daily supplicate thee 
 for grace upon grace; but never, never, will I draw 
 consolation from grace, without feeling and acknow- 
 ledging anew, in memory of thy sufferings, what my 
 sins have deserved from thee. Lord Jesus, let thy 
 strength be made perfect in my weakness ! Amen. 
 
320 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 SERMON XIV. 
 
 THE DEATH OF JESUS. 
 
 John xix. 30. — When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he 
 said, It is finished: and he bowed his head, and gave up the 
 ghost. 
 
 Beloved in the Lord: — We shall consider to-day 
 that portion of the sacred narrative which immedi- 
 ately follows the text of our last meditation. The 
 Lord, knowing that all that the Father had given him 
 to suffer was accomplished, had allowed himself the 
 slight refreshment of a little vinegar to cool his 
 parched lips. And now we read, John xix. 30: 
 " WTien Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he 
 saidy It is finished: and he bowed his head, and 
 gave up the ghost.'' 
 
 "It is finished." Such were the last words of the 
 dying Saviour. And what do these words teach us 
 of him? They teach us that he had accomplished a 
 great, a divine mission; that he had performed a 
 difficult task, and that the end of his work was 
 blessed. As Jesus dies, all is so peaceful and serene 
 in him; and the holy calm which reigns around the 
 parting spirit is transfused to our own soul. So that 
 when, in reading the evangelical narrative, one comes 
 to this passage, a feeling of tranquillity and calm is 
 diffused over one's heart. But the feeling which 
 these words call forth, is not merely a feeling of the 
 repose of Jesus in death ; it is also one of the blessed- 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 321 
 
 ness of his death. It is a blessed thing to die with 
 such an ''It is finished" upon the lips. And the 
 question which arises in our minds, as we contem- 
 plate such a scene is, In what way can / hope to 
 attain a death so blessed? And to this question I 
 will answer: By ever living in the strong conviction 
 that we too have in life a great, a divine mission to 
 accomplish, and work to perform; hy heing ever 
 ready to perform that worh, to accomplish that mis- 
 sion, even at the expense of the most painful sacri- 
 fices, and hy deriving strength and consolation from 
 these words of our dying Saviour, ''It is finished,'' 
 
 That Jesus had a great and divine mission, to accom- 
 plish, we learn especially from these words, "It is 
 finished." On what occasion do we utter these words ? 
 Not when the task we have finished is of small import- 
 ance, for then we scarcely ourselves mark its comple- 
 tion ; but only when we have brought to a termination 
 some great, important work — a work on behalf of 
 which, so long as we were engaged with it, the sym- 
 pathy and attention of the whole soul were enlisted. 
 Now, all the occupations we engage in ought in one 
 sense to be divine, to be of God, for one is our Mas- 
 ter, and all we do should be done in his service. But 
 alas ! we have often two masters ; and, indeed, there 
 are some of whom it may be said, that they have as 
 many masters as they have strong inclinations. In 
 the case of many, what pleasure or fancy dictates, the 
 act obeys. Now Christ never, in any one action of 
 his life, performed his own will. "I came down from 
 heaven not to do mine own will, but the will of him 
 28 
 
322 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 that sent me." "My meat is to do the will of him 
 that sent me." Thus the work which he was sensi- 
 hle of having accomplished, when he cried, "It is 
 finished," was also a work of God. And what was 
 that work? In order to answer the question aright, 
 we must bear in mind, that he who in his last moments, 
 as he stands on the boundary which separates this 
 world from the world beyond, exclaims, "It is fin- 
 ished," could not then be thinking of any particular 
 actions of his life. On the contrary, his thoughts 
 would be turned upon that one work to which all 
 others were subordinate, and which formed in a special 
 way the work of his life. And Jesus had a life-work 
 to perform. Listen to his words in that passage of 
 the intercessory prayer, where, speaking as one already 
 glorified, he seems to cast a glance over his whole 
 earthly work: "Father, I have glorified thee upon 
 the earth, I have finished the work which thou gavest 
 me to do. I have manifested thy name unto the men 
 which thou gavest me out of the world." The busi- 
 ness of his life was, thus, to manifest the name of 
 God. A name is that by means of which we desig- 
 nate and characterize ourselves for the sake of others ; 
 hence that name is the best selected which gives 
 expression to the most marked and striking feature in 
 the nature of the person named. The name of God 
 had long been inquired after by the nations of the 
 earth. They had applied to the Infinite a thousand 
 names, without ever finding one by which rightly to 
 characterize him. Now Christ has revealed the name 
 of God : he has revealed it by his words and by his 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 323 
 
 works, in Ms life and in his sufferings. This was the 
 work which was concluded when he cried, "It is 
 finished." Let us, however, direct our attention to 
 what the Evangelist says a little further back; he 
 tells us that Jesus had cried, "I thirst," "knowing 
 that all things were now accomplished." In this 
 place, the "all things" which had been accomplished 
 before Jesus spoke, refer especially to the work of 
 suffering, as the closing work of his life. Are we 
 then in error when we affirm, that this work of suffer- 
 ering was likewise in the Saviour's view when he said, 
 "It is finished;" nay, that these words chiefly refer to 
 that work of suff"ering ? For, were not his sufferings 
 a revelation of the name of God ? Were they not so 
 in a preeminent degree ? And may we not, in the 
 dark cloud that hung over the cross, read the bright 
 inscription, " Giod was in Christ, reconciling the 
 world unto himself f This, then, was the great, the 
 divine work which Christ had completed when he cried, 
 "It is finished." 
 
 And that was a task which could not be accom- 
 plished otherwise than at the cost of an incalculable 
 sacrifice. Call to mind the hours of your life when 
 you have exclaimed, "It is finished," and you will 
 find that, for the most part, they were occasions in 
 which you had completed at heavy cost some severe 
 task. How often have you cried, "It is finished," in 
 the spirit of the pilgrim who, after a long and ardu- 
 ous journey, at length crosses the threshold of his 
 father's house ! The Lord had completed an arduous 
 work. For we must not confine our thoughts to the 
 
324 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 last hours of his life, Trhen we speak of the sufTerings 
 which his love underwent. The path of affliction 
 w^hich he trod was as long as the course of his mortal 
 life. Think of him in his daily intercourse with the 
 outcast of his people, with publicans and sinners, with 
 hypocrites and adulterers, with lepers and epileptics, 
 with blind and lame. And think at the same time of 
 the loving heart which made the sorrow of all, as well 
 as the guilt of all, its own ! That depth of sorrow 
 which ever dwelt in his spirit was but rarely told to 
 human ear — in general he carried it before his Father 
 in heaven; but on one occasion it does break out, 
 when he cries, " faithless generation, how long shall 
 I be with you !" That cry was wrung from him by the 
 thought of how little living faith in God there is among 
 men. See here what a difference there is between you 
 and the holy Jesus ! How many are there among you, 
 let me inquire, who feel that, among the many pain- 
 ful circumstances of life, there is nothing so sad as 
 the thought of how little living faith in God there is to 
 be found among one's brothers and friends, in father, 
 mother, child, or spouse? If, even in the ministry, 
 there are so many who can live contented and at ease, 
 never allowing themselves to be disturbed by an 
 anxious thought, as to whether there is much or little 
 faith in God in their congregation, how can it be other- 
 wise with the people ! If even many pastors do not 
 understand that expression which is used of the Sa- 
 viour, that "he was grieved for the people," and have 
 no idea of this grief for men that are living without 
 God, how can others be expected to understand and 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 325 
 
 sympatliize in this holy sorrow ? Alas ! I fear that 
 loving sorrow, which, throughout all his earthly life, 
 the Man of sorrows felt for the woes and wickedness 
 of men, is to many of us a thing quite incomprehensi- 
 ble. Hence we cannot understand how severe the task 
 which he had to perform was. In his lifetime, it 
 could be seen but rarely how severe he felt it ; but we 
 see it now in his death; and as he cries, "It is fin- 
 ished," the soul breathes free, for while feeling how 
 hard it must have been for him, we are at the same 
 time sensible, to some extent, how easy it now is. 
 
 For the "It is finished," which marks the close of 
 a great work, and one which has demanded many 
 sacrifices, is always at the same time a Messed "It is 
 finished." The moments in which we have exclaimed 
 "It is finished," have always had something sooth- 
 ing and satisfactory for us, even when the work which 
 we had brought to completion was one performed 
 in our own service, on our own account. But if one 
 of us have at any time in our life had occasion to ex- 
 claim "It is finished," after some hard, self-denying 
 task undertaken and achieved, not on our own ac- 
 count, but in the loving service of others — surely in 
 such an "It is finished" there is something very 
 blessed. This is the charm of self-sacrificing charity ; 
 this the power to bless of ministering love. And he 
 who became poor to make us rich, who came into the 
 world, not to be ministered unto, but to minister, what 
 did he in his whole life seek or do for himself? Hence, 
 when at the end of his life he cried, "It is finished," 
 it was a blessed finishing, blessed beyond all measure, 
 28* 
 
326 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 for he then saw in spirit the fruit of his long and 
 arduous work of love, as the prophet had foretold: 
 "Because he has made his soul an offering for sin, he 
 shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satis- 
 fied — therefore will I divide him a portion with the 
 great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong." 
 (Isaiah liii. 10.) He sees of the travail of his soul, 
 and is satisfied ; and where did he ever find his pre- 
 sence and satisfaction hut in giving relief to the 
 wretched, and rest to the weary? And now he sees 
 how the cross, the memorial of his sufferings, becomes 
 the symbol of grace, at the sight of which the weary 
 find rest, and the heavy-laden throw away their burden. 
 He feels that he has given to men that bread of life 
 which satisfies, not merely during the brief span of 
 time, but which to eternity will fill them with the very 
 fulness of God, which is in Him. And the fruits of 
 his travail are as immeasurable in space as their efii- 
 cacy is unlimited in duration ; and before his view he 
 beholds the multitude become a prey, and he numbers 
 his subjects by nations and by races. And among his 
 captives there are strong ones, who, after a long and 
 desperate resistance, are at last compelled to bow the 
 knee before him. An impetuous Saul is changed into 
 a Paul, when his hour has come; the strong spirit of 
 an Augustine, after he has escaped from many a net 
 of love, is in the end forced to exclaim, "Thou art too 
 strong for me, thou hast conquered;" and a Luther, 
 after he has been brought to feel that his own right- 
 eousness is no better than filthy rags, at last joyfully 
 exclaims, "Christ is my righteousness!" 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 327 
 
 Was it not blessed thus to die ? that one might 
 pass away, when his last hour is come, with an "It is 
 finished" like that upon his lips! Beloyed, most of 
 you are still in the bloom of years, and cannot realize 
 so vividly that final goal which will terminate the 
 mortal life of all of us. But if you do earnestly desire 
 to die with such words as these upon your lips, if you 
 seriously wish that your latter end may be like His, 
 there is one thing which you must constantly keep 
 before your view; and it is this, tliat ive have, every 
 one of us, a great, a Ciod-given work to do in life. 
 And the work which we have to do, is just that which 
 Christ has accomplished before us ; for our mission in 
 the world is no other than his was, namely, to declare 
 the name of God, according to his word, and in his 
 spirit. All the separate tasks we have to perform in 
 our calling, are only so many difierent opportunities 
 afi'orded us of manifesting the name of the Father of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ. If the love of God be the 
 ruling motive in our daily life, if his will be our law, 
 his honour our end, there will rest even upon the 
 dullest and most trivial work we perform, a light from 
 heaven to ennoble and to glorify it; for God, who 
 rules in us, will by our actions make himself known to 
 men. You have not imposed upon yourselves the work 
 of your life ; it is God who has imposed it upon you. 
 0, let this thought never slip from your mind ! Seen 
 in its light, every work in which you engage must 
 appear great, however little in itself it may be. Every 
 task which God has given you to perform, must be a 
 matter of moment to you, for every such task is a 
 
328 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 token of grace: it is something that the King of 
 heaven and of earth has chosen us to do for him. 
 When a man comes to do his daily task in the spirit 
 of a faith like this, the curse which rests upon our 
 lahour is taken away, and transmuted into a blessing. 
 We think an honour is conferred on us, when we 
 receive a commission, however small, to discharge for 
 some great one of the earth, just because he who gave 
 it is so great, and we apply ourselves with alacrity 
 and pleasure to the task he assigns us. And shall we 
 not feel it a blessed privilege that it is permitted us to 
 perform the work of God? Therefore I say to those 
 of you who wish one day to be able to utter a blessed 
 "It is finished," never for a moment let out of your 
 thoughts the great fact, that you have a work of God 
 to do upon the earth. 
 
 Then, even should that work call upon you for 
 many heavy sacrifices, so long as you have before you 
 that thought, you will be ready to make them all. 
 Certainly, to fulfil the mission which Christ has ap- 
 pointed us, is no easy task. If any one of you fancy 
 he is engaged in performing it, and has hitherto found 
 it easy, if he imagines it to be a process that can go 
 on altogether independently of any care on his part, 
 that man has, I fear, never known what his mission 
 really is. He who has never spent sleepless nights 
 and wept bitter tears over the problem of his destiny, 
 over the mission given him to accomplish, has never 
 yet rightly understood that problem, and is still in 
 ignorance concerning even the true nature of that mis- 
 sion. In some passages of the Bible, our Lord speaks 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 329 
 
 with awful earnestness of tlie difficulty of this work ; 
 and, certain I am, there are many who now go uncon- 
 cerned, imagining themselves to be very good Chris- 
 tians, who, were their eye suddenly to light upon one 
 of those passages, would be struck with terror and ex- 
 plaim, "If that be required in order for a man to 
 be a Christian, we cannot all be Christians." We 
 read that Jesus on one occasion, when much people- 
 accompanied him, knowing that, in that large multi- 
 tude, there was but a small number of his true spi- 
 ritual followers, exclaimed, " If any man come to me, 
 and hate not his father and mother, and wife, and 
 children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own 
 life also, he cannot be my disciple." He has himself 
 laid down this condition. The privilege of being his 
 disciple must be so prized by us, that we are ready to 
 deny all, yea, even that which we hold dearest, if it 
 form an obstacle in the way of our fellowship with 
 him, and thus prevent our attaining the object, and 
 accomplishing the work of life. And so earnestly 
 would he impress us with this truth, that he seeks to 
 bring it home to us by a parable: "Which of you," 
 he says, "intending to build a tower, sitteth not down 
 first, and pounteth the cost, whether he have sufficient 
 to finish it ? Lest haply, after he hath laid the foun- 
 dation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it 
 begin to mock him, saying, This man began to build, 
 and was not able to finish." (Luke xiv. 28-30.) The 
 Christian's work is something great and arduous, it is 
 compared to the building of a tower. Its completion 
 demands great sacrifices j but he must be prepared to 
 
830 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 make them all. He must show himself ready to give 
 up all that he has, all that he can, in order to secure 
 its completion. All that remains in us of the old man 
 must be given over to death, that the new man may 
 rise again in life. Is not our daily task to surrender 
 unto death our own will, our own wishes, in order that 
 we may receive them back again from God, sanctified 
 and holy ? The sacrifices are hard indeed, self-renun- 
 ciation is a grievous thing for flesh and blood ; but the 
 work is great, and when completed, it will form a tem- 
 ple for God himself; and it will be sweet to be able at 
 the end to say, "It is finished." Therefore, courage 
 in the fight ! 
 
 Courage in the fight ! — Let us draw our strength 
 and our consolation from the Saviour's words, " It is 
 finished." It is easy to fight when the general him- 
 self leads on to the battle. And we have a Saviour 
 who is called the Captain of our salvation, because he 
 marches in the van. Like us, it was through many 
 sufierings that he was made perfect, that he might 
 bring many sons into glory. Cast your eye on him 
 when ye are weary: see, he goes before not only as 
 your leader, but also conquering for you. He who 
 keeps ever before his soul the cross of his Lord, his 
 hours of sufiering, his "It is finished," feels a new 
 power stream into his being. And when his knees 
 grow weak, Jesus holds him up : when his head droops, 
 Jesus raises it. Let me then venture upon the con- 
 flict, with all its sacrifices ; when I shall have fought 
 it out, how blessedly I shall rest ! And in the strug- 
 gle, let his "It is finished" be my consolation as well 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 331 
 
 as my strengtli. When my last hour draws near, I 
 shall find my consolation in him. Conscience will 
 indeed have just ground to accuse me. I ought, more 
 readily, more regardless of consequences, to have 
 borne the cost of building a temple for my Lord, I 
 ought more freely and more fully to have given up for 
 his sake all that I possessed; alas, in myself I shall 
 not be able to cry with joy, "It is finished." But, 
 blessed be God, what belongs to the Head belongs 
 also to the members. His life is mine, his sufierings 
 are mine, and mine too will be his victory. Not with 
 my feeble, tremulous, and broken voice, no, but with 
 His, strong, full-toned, and firm, will I raise my joyful 
 cry, "It is finished!" 
 
332 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 SERMON XV. 
 
 THE DEATH OF JESUS, AND ITS EFFECTS. 
 
 Luke xxiii. 46-48. — And when Jesus had cried with a loud voice, 
 he said, Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit: and having 
 said thus, he gave up the ghost. Now, when the centurion saw 
 what was done, he glorified God, saying. Certainly this was a 
 righteous man. And all the people that came together to that 
 sight, beholding the things which were done, smote their breasts, 
 and returned. 
 
 Beloved in Christ : — This day we are to see Jesus die. 
 The death of a human being is a deeply-moving scene. 
 What a solemn aspect life presents when we view it 
 standing by the death-bed of a departing spirit ! Seen 
 thus, how important, how momentous does it appear, 
 and with what a strange foreboding does one cast a 
 glance into the mysterious new life which is about to 
 open! Let us then approach the scene of our Sa- 
 viour's death with deep reverence, and in a spirit of 
 serious thoughtfulness. We have found the moment 
 in which he cried "It is .finished" to have been a mo- 
 ment of great consolation and blessedness for us: to 
 him it was a moment of deep internal conflict. But 
 no sooner had Jesus said it than his soul became once 
 more perfectly serene ; and as we listen to those last 
 words, in which he so calmly gives up his spirit into 
 the hands of his Father, and then behold him bow his 
 head and die, we feel as if we had witnessed a glorious 
 sunset, and stood gazing in solemn awe into the clear, 
 calm heaven, still bright with a celestial radiance. 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 333 
 
 ^^And when Jesus had cried ivith a loud voice, he 
 said, Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit: 
 and having said thus, he gave up the ghost. Now, 
 when the centurion saw what was done, he glorified 
 God, saying. Certainly this was a righteous man. 
 And all the people that came together to that sight, 
 beholding the things which were done, smote their 
 breasts, and returned.'' (Luke xxiii. 46-48.) 
 
 In meditating upon these words, I would direct 
 your attention, first, to the manner of Jesus' death, 
 and then to its effects. He dies with a sense of 
 inward freedom, with clearest consciousness, with 
 fullest assurance. And the effect of his death upon 
 the spectators is, that it quickens the pious, and, at 
 the same time, terrifies the ungodly, 
 
 Jesus dies with a sense of inward freedom. The 
 Bible speaks of the bondage of death. It represents 
 death as an unrelenting tyrant, who is ever goading 
 men on, and urging them whither they would not. 
 Does not a dying man present the aspect of one van- 
 quished and subdued by some despot, does not the 
 sad spectacle at once suggest to us the idea of a bon- 
 dage and servitude under which humanity lies? 
 There we see the powers of life which, especially 
 when it is youth that is falling a prey to the 
 destroyer, arise, as against a strong oppressor, and 
 give him battle. The spirit feels itself bound by so 
 many ties, and friendship and love hold fast in their 
 embrace the precious treasure of which death seeks to 
 rob them. What a sad impression does a death-bed 
 give of the bondage of man, how painfully does it 
 29 
 
334 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 bring home to us the fact that man is not free, that 
 he is in servitude to death! Hence men have given 
 death a sceptre and a sword, have put a scythe into 
 his hand and a crown upon his head. But in the 
 death of our Lord we see nothing of all this. Yery 
 different is his death from ours. When death comes 
 upon us, it generally takes us by surprise, and herein 
 too does it prove its might in that it makes men its 
 captives and its prey, before ever they are aware of 
 its approach. In most cases, death administers a 
 sleeping-draught before he deals the final blow; and 
 it is in a state of sleep and of dreaminess that by far 
 the greater proportion of the dying go their way into 
 that long slumber. But when death came to Jesus, 
 it found him waking. By this he would show us, 
 that he does not give way to death, as to a superior 
 might. As, previously, he had encountered his 
 betrayer in the garden with the words, "I am he 
 whom ye seek;" so does he now confront the last 
 enemy. And in the conflict he proves victorious. 
 "No man taketh his life from him; he layeth it 
 down." With a solemn declaration he himself sur- 
 renders his spirit into the hands of his Father. Do 
 we not feel, in contemplating this scene, as if we saw 
 a victorious general, at the close of a hard-fought but 
 glorious campaign, lay down, of his own free will, his 
 marshal's baton? How regal is the impression it 
 conveys ! — And let me here remind you, to what an 
 apparent chance it is we owe it, that we see Jesus die 
 in such a kingly way. Only imagine for a moment 
 that the death your Saviour died had been by stoning ; 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 335 
 
 that he had succumbed beneath the stones which an 
 infuriated and blood-thirsty mob hurled against him ! 
 What an insufferable impression of constraint, of a 
 necessity of yielding to a superiority of mere brute 
 force, would such a scene leave upon the mind ! And 
 yet such was the death that awaited him, if the high- 
 priest had succeeded with the governor, in carrying 
 through his charge of blasphemy. It was only be- 
 cause they did not succeed in this, and because they 
 were obliged, in consequence, to alter the charge 
 from one of blasphemy to one of civil rebellion, that 
 the Roman death of crucifixion was the sentence pro- 
 nounced upon the Saviour. And thus did it happen, 
 according to the eternal counsel of Him, whom all 
 events obey, that we now behold Him who lived as a 
 king, like a king encounter death, even upon the tree 
 of shame. 
 
 Christ dies with the clearest consciousness. He is 
 perfectly conscious of what lies before him. There 
 are times in the life of every man, even of him who 
 has forgotten God, when he thinks almost involuntarily 
 of the Sovereign Disposer of all events. Now the 
 death of a man is such a season, in which scarcely any 
 one can escape the influence of this thought. A death- 
 bed without the thought of God! — we can scarcely 
 endure the idea. And yet there do occur such death- 
 beds even among ourselves; and it is a frightful 
 thought, that even those who witness such death-beds 
 remain unimpressed, unsolemnized ! I may surely 
 take it for granted, that there is not one here pre- 
 sent who would think without shuddering of a godless 
 
336 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 death-bed. And I maj also take for granted, that in 
 the case of no one of jou the thought of God will be 
 wanting amid all the thoughts and anxieties of the 
 last moments of your life. Would I could feel like- 
 wise confident that this thought will then engage your 
 whole soul — that it will be your last thought — that 
 with which you close your earthly life ! Would that 
 the experience of each of you in that hour may be 
 this, that when all earthly lights have faded from your 
 view, God, as a great sun, will fill the eye of your 
 soul 1 What a genial warmth would then be shed upon 
 the cold last hour ! — how would the thought of God 
 bridge the gulf which separates time from eternity! 
 Even Christ had thoughts of his own in the closing 
 hours of his life : he thought on his people ; he thought 
 on all the past of his earthly history. But when the 
 last moment came, the thought with which he bowed 
 his head was the thought of God. He died with a 
 clear consciousness of what lay before him. The idea 
 that the spirit of man descends into the dust along 
 with his body, is one which is only too natural to the 
 human mind. How many nations have imagined that 
 the last home and final resting-place of the spirit is to 
 be found nowhere else but down in the deep, dark 
 bosom of the earth; that thither all human ways do 
 ultimately lead — thither, where all is so gloomy and so 
 sad ! We, to whom the light of Christ has appeared, 
 know better ; but can we always believe as we know ? 
 Or do we not sometimes, as it were, against our will, 
 look upon that cold, dark, and narrow grave into 
 which they let down the mantle of our spirit, as an 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 337 
 
 emblem of that place to which the spirit itself must 
 go ? Do not some who call themselves Christians even 
 re-echo the melancholy words — 
 
 The grave is deep and silent, 
 
 Its border dark with gloom ; 
 An unknown country lies beyond 
 
 The blackness of the tomb. 
 
 But Christ does not look downwards when his last 
 moment arrives. His eye is turned upwards to the 
 Father's bosom from whence he came — with clear con- 
 sciousness he looks into that which lies before him. 
 
 He dies with the fullest assurance. This is testified 
 by his dying cry. He knows that it is into the hands 
 of the Father that he is giving up his spirit. We are 
 not, God be praised! without instances of blessed 
 death-beds among ourselves. Cases do occur among 
 us in which, while death opens wide his jaws, the 
 dying soul is able, with a cleansed conscience and a 
 heart full of faith, to throw itself into the Father's 
 arms, and to shout for joy when all around are weep- 
 ing : such grace has Jesus won for his faithful follow- 
 ers. Yet it is but rarely that a death-bed is the 
 scene of such glorious triumph. And not the least 
 dreadful of the terrors of death is the thought, that 
 often the internal accuser, which slumbered in the 
 time of sunshine, now in the hour of darkness awakes 
 again. This -occurs not only in the case of those who 
 know not the Saviour — it is sometimes the experience 
 even of true believers. Perhaps the increasing dark- 
 ening of consciousness, the oppression of the heart, 
 29* 
 
338 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 the struggle of nature ere it will consent to give up 
 the mortal coil, may have something to do in causing 
 this ; but much more is it to be ascribed to the anti- 
 cipation of presently beholding face to face that great 
 Being whom the spirit knows to be the Judge of the 
 heart and of the life. The soul is standing before the 
 curtain which conceals that judgment-seat which has 
 ever exercised a mighty influence upon his life — well 
 then may it feel anxious and alarmed ! Rich indeed 
 must be the measure of a man's faith, before, in view 
 of that judgment-seat, he can exclaim, "I know that 
 my Redeemer liveth!" and thus calm the anxious 
 tumult of his breast. But consider, ye Christians — 
 even should also your last hours be darkened with 
 such clouds of sorrow — still, I beseech you, consider 
 at least to what you have a right in your dying hour. 
 Your Lord has won for you the right with him to 
 say, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." 
 Behold, here, with what confident assurance even the 
 prodigal son may die, if he have again returned to 
 his father's house, and there been graciously received. 
 It is a child that has been disobedient in many ways, 
 who dies — and he dies in the knowledge that he is 
 going to his Father. The way lies through regions 
 beset with hostile powers, and the land to which he 
 journeys is a land unknown; yet, full of confidence, 
 he ventures to commit his spirit to a strong hand. 
 Truly there are many who care not to live the Chris- 
 tian's life, but few indeed are they who would not die 
 the Christian's death. 
 
 Such a death cannot be without effect upon those 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 339 
 
 who witness it. It will quicken the pious and sus- 
 ceptible : it will awe the hard-hearted and ungodly » 
 When the centurion of the Roman guard saw what 
 had happened, he glorified God, saying, " Truly this 
 was a righteous man," or, as Matthew tells us, " Truly 
 this was the Son of God." And so even that Roman 
 soldier cannot remain an unmoved spectator of such a 
 death, and the peace of a nature reconciled to God, 
 which breathes in the words, "Into thy hands I com- 
 mend my spirit," touches even him. The man who, 
 condemned by an earthly tribunal, fears not the tri- 
 bunal of God ; who, sentenced by an earthly judge, 
 can still undauntedly commit himself and his cause 
 into the hands of God; that man dies as a righteous 
 man, either as one who has been unrighteously con- 
 demned, or as one who is justified by grace. We 
 may believe that the thief on the cross died ,,thus. 
 Doubtless after the King of the heavenly kingdom 
 had pointed out to him the place in that kingdom 
 which was reserved for him, when his hour was come, 
 he departed in peace, saying perhaps also, after the 
 example of his Saviour, "Father, into thy hands I 
 commend my spirit." But if the exclamation of the 
 centurion was, "Truly this was the Son of God," 
 then the impression produced upon him was not one 
 occasioned only by the fear of God which he saw in 
 Christ. No ; he was impressed by the calm resigna- 
 tion, by the royal dignity of Jesus ; he learned to give 
 its right interpretation to the darkness which had 
 drawn round the cross; he recognized in him the 
 righteous man whom not only his own conscience had 
 
340 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 vindicated, but whom the Lord of nature himself had 
 pronounced righteous. And thus did the cross of 
 Christ proclaim, that where earthly justice had ceased 
 to discharge its office, there was still an avenger of 
 innocence in heaven, there was still a righteous God 
 who acquits when men condemn. 
 
 And that very scene, the effect of which was to 
 quicken the susceptible and God-fearing, likewise 
 served to terrify and alarm the indifferent and God- 
 forgetting. The people had gone to the place of exe- 
 cution only to gape and to stare. They had, with 
 guilty thoughtlessness, cried, "Crucify him, crucify 
 him!" And as he whom they had crucified, in dying, 
 commended his soul to God, as God himself from 
 heaven pronounced his acquittal, they had something 
 more to do than merely look on— they must think — 
 they must feel strange presentiments. The light of 
 Jesus' life went out with so bright a flame, that some 
 reflection of it fell upon their benighted hearts, and 
 imparted to them some suspicion of the real nature of 
 the deed they had in thoughtlessness committed; 
 while, on the other hand, the darkness around the 
 cross taught them what deeds like these deserve. 
 
 It is a sublime death. It gives us a foretaste of 
 the coming triumph and glory of Christ, as the faint 
 trembling light upon the horizon which heralds the 
 rising sun. And now let us turn our glance from the 
 death of Jesus to that of his children, which often 
 bears some traces of the glory of his. It is true, death 
 comes most frequently to men as a yoke of servitude to 
 which they must submit. With anxiety they listen to 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 341 
 
 the approaching steps of the grim tyrant, with horror 
 they see him brandish his awful scythe, and in uncon- 
 sciousness do they receive his final stroke. Few 
 indeed are the men who die because they would, and 
 not because they must ! Now what is a necessity of 
 nature, faith has the power of transforming into a 
 free, spontaneous act. "What my God wills, I will!" 
 thus speaks the child of God, and so goes of his own 
 free will into the terrors of death. There is some- 
 times upon the death-bed of the philosopher such a 
 death accompanied with a sense of inward freedom. 
 Possessed of the power of transforming by thought 
 what is a necessity of nature into a reasonable neces- 
 sity, he submits himself to that with free self-determi- 
 nation — so they teach in their schools. How often 
 they put this philosophy in practice upon their death- 
 beds, we do not here inquire. But even if they do, 
 still they cannot thus die a happy death. Ye who, 
 in your closing hour, can commend your spirit into 
 no other hands but the power of nature, ye cannot die 
 a happy death ; and yet it is only he who dies happy 
 that can be said to die with inward freedom. Calmly 
 and peacefully a philosopher may die, for 0, that 
 iron necessity which alone in his last hours he views, 
 has a fearful power to make the heart rigid, cold, in- 
 sensible, so that it holds out unperturbed to the very 
 last. But happy death-beds, I say, are to be seen 
 only among the children of God. Only among those 
 men are they to be seen, who in the full assurance of 
 faith can say, "Father, into thy hands I commend 
 my spirit." Ye philosophers, into whose hands, I 
 
342 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 ask, do ye commend your spirits? To that cold 
 necessity, which upon its eternally-revolving wheel 
 of destiny, takes up your spirits, and, after it has 
 wheeled them round a little time, lets them drop 
 again, knowing and caring nothing about them or 
 you — -say, can you commend your spirits into its icy 
 arms, and die happy? It is impossible. He alone 
 can die happy, because he alone can die with free- 
 dom, who, as the child of God, can commend his 
 spirit into his Father's hands. 
 
 To die with perfect consciousness, like Jesus, is, 
 indeed, a privilege which is not granted to every 
 child of God; and it is this that makes death so sad, 
 if not to him who suffers, at least to the relatives and 
 friends who stand by. To witness a Christian die, 
 fully conscious and self-possessed, is such a sublime 
 and elevating scene ! You see the soul, as it were 
 visibly pass away from the chamber of sickness, 
 shuffling off its mortal coil, and putting on its robes 
 of light. Whereas when there is no such clear con- 
 sciousness in the moment of death, you can but follow 
 with the eye of faith the parting spirit, which, as it 
 vanishes away, a cloud conceals from your sight. 
 And yet, even in such a case, the power of a be- 
 lieving heart is great. Sometimes the soul of the 
 dying Christian is seen, by the strength of a faith 
 whose power and depth were till then unknown, to 
 rend the thickest cloud of mortal darkness with the 
 loud clear cry, "I know that my Redeemer liveth;" 
 and thus has it proved, that although the cloud could 
 dim the vision of the soul, it could not extinguish it. 
 
SUFFERINaS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 343 
 
 And when, if this, also, is in the last hour to be 
 denied, the Christian has still the consolation, that 
 before he enters upon the final conflict he may renew 
 his covenant with God, and, in the holy sacrament of 
 the Supper, draw strength and refreshing from com- 
 munion with the Father and the Son; and then, pos- 
 sessed of a sacred pledge of which the power of death 
 cannot rob him, descend into the darksome hour. 
 And surely there are many here who could tell how 
 great a consolation, yea, a triumph, that last Lord's 
 Supper has proved to their departing friends, and 
 also to them who partook with them of the sacred 
 symbols of dying love. And did not the blessed 
 calm and the strong confidence of victory which that 
 solemn hour brought with it, remain even in the 
 gloomy unconscious hours which succeeded, when the 
 eye of the loved one grew dim ? 
 
 And the full assurance on a bed of death with 
 which Christ commended his spirit to his Father, he 
 grants in mercy to his children also. This is the 
 glory of the Christian's death : for this has many a 
 one wished to die the death of the righteous, who 
 never wished to live his life. Those who have no 
 Redeemer, still feel a dim expectation of an eternity 
 beyond this earth. For mankind is of a divine origin, 
 and this feeling is a memory of his primal state. But 
 the certainty of an eternity, the certainty of an eter- 
 nity of blessedness, founded upon the rights of adop- 
 tion into the family of God, is the privilege of those 
 who are the children of God by faith in his Son Jesus 
 Christ, and of them only. We do not indeed, as I 
 
344 SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 
 
 already remarked, see this confidence always come 
 prominently into view in its full glory, even in the 
 children of God, but some participation in it every 
 true Christian must have. Clouds of earth may often 
 intervene and break its rays, and the light of hea- 
 venly joy may often fade away from the features, but 
 that peace which passeth understanding shall still 
 preserve the heart. 
 
 Therefore it is that the death-beds of believers have 
 ever proved an alluring voice to the unbelieving, a 
 consolation to the weak, an arousing call to the 
 indifferent. Every one among you who has stood by 
 such a death-bed, will testify to the fact that it leaves 
 a blessing behind for the whole of man's future life; 
 and in witnessing such a scene, if you have not felt 
 that it is worth while to be a Christian in order to 
 live happily, you have at least felt it worth while 
 being a Christian in order to die happily. Hence 
 what blessings does he who has the cure of souls reap 
 from this part of his labours. Truly at such death- 
 beds the conscientous clergyman learns more than he 
 teaches, receives more than he can give. Like the 
 cross of his Lord, the death-bed of the Christian 
 speaks consolation to the weak, awakening to the 
 indifferent, but, at the same time, it lifts up its warn- 
 ing voice against the hardened and the God-for- 
 getters. When they see even the righteous man 
 engaged in such sore conflict with the terrors of 
 death, they are forced to exclaim, "If these things be 
 done in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry ?" 
 And as they see how, in this hardest of all struggles, 
 
SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF CHRIST. 345 
 
 victory is given to faith aloney^hey must cry, "Who 
 shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" Yes ; 
 many a hardened sinner, like the people at the cross 
 of the dying Jesus, has turned from the death-bed of 
 the departing Christian, and has smitten upon his 
 breast, as, filled with many dark forebodings, he 
 thought upon his own last hour. 
 
 Father of eternal love ! 
 
 Look from thy throne in heaven above, 
 And 0! my Rock and Refuge prove, 
 When the dark waters roun'd me be. 
 
 0, strengthen then my feeble faith. 
 And make me conqueror in death, 
 To sing, even with my parting breath: 
 Death has no sting for me ! 
 
 1 fear thee not, thou cruel foe, 
 Though fierce thy rage ; for well I know 
 "Whither my ransomed soul shall go 
 
 When falls my earthly day. 
 
 The quiet grave my woes shall end ; 
 My soul I'll calm to God commend, 
 And to the land of light shall wend 
 My angel-guided way ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
WM. S. & ALFRED MARTIEN, 
 
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