Down to Earth But Heavenly Minded

“But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him and with His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).

“Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold and see if there be any sorrow like to My sorrow” (Lamentation 1:12).

 —
“O day of mightiest sorrow,
   Day of unfathomed grief!
 When THOU didst taste the horror
   Of wrath without relief.

“No eye was found to pity,
   No heart to bear Thy woe:
 But shame, and scorn and spitting.
   None cared Thy Name to know.” (J. N. Darby.)

On Both Sides of the Sea

“And when they had sung an hymn, they went out into the mount of Olives.” — (Matthew 26:30.)

“In the midst of the church will I sing praise to Thee.” — (Hebrews 2:12.)

Christians are called to be a triumphant people. Through the riches of the grace of God they can sing with joyful lips their songs of praise to Him, but in this they are like the Israelites when they saw their enemies dead upon the seashore: then in the gladness of their freedom from the cruel oppressor they could sound the loud timbrel and sing the high praise of Jehovah, for He had manifested the greatness of His excellency in their deliverance (Exodus 15). But they did not sing on the other side, when the waters rolled darkly before them, the fierce foe pressed hard behind and the mountains reared their rugged heads on either side. But Jesus sang on both sides of the sea.

He “divided the sea, whose waves roared,” and “made the depths of it a way for the ransomed to pass over.” He divided it by passing through it, while all its fury was spent upon Him, and now in resurrection He can celebrate His great triumph, surrounded by those whom He has set free: and so is fulfilled the word, “In the midst of the church will I sing praise to Thee.” But He also sang on the other side. When deep called to deep: when the waters were gathered to compass Him about: when the waves and billows of judgment uprose to pass over Him: as the darkness of Gethsemane and the deeper darkness of Calvary, with all its shame and woe and ignominy and unspeakable sorrow confronted Him; then He lifted up His voice and sang to God.

The disciples may have known the words and the tune, but we cannot suppose that they entered into the spirit and meaning of that praise-psalm: He was the singer in deed and in truth.

It is written, “Whoso offers praise glorifies Me,” and herein was that passage fulfilled and God greatly glorified, even though no other heart appreciated or understood what Jesus then did.

When the last “Praise ye the Lord” of that song was reached, He spoke of Himself as the Shepherd — the Shepherd, who, for the sake of the flock, was to bear the smiting of Jehovah’s rod, and in view of this smiting He had to say, “My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even to death.” But in the presence of that unspeakable sorrow He fully approved God’s will concerning Him, and to its last drop He would drink the cup that His Father gave Him. In this holy determination, conscious of God’s approval of His faithfulness, He sang forth His praise as He entered the conflict. Be assured the music of that singing will never pass away: it will sound for ever in the Father’s ear as the melody of a trust that never faltered and a love that was stronger than death.

So He sang then, and so He sings now. But now He has companions who can join in the singing that He leads; His brethren — who owe their every joy to His sorrow: who are placed, through His death, beyond the reach of judgment’s wrathful sea: who are one with Him in nature and life, and to whom He has revealed His Father’s name. These can share His joy, and so can sing in concert with Him, for they stand with Him in the unclouded light of His Father’s love, and this is their place for ever. Yes, this is our place who have believed on Him, the risen Lord; but how our hearts are moved in the midst of our joy, and for ever will be, as we remember that He sang on the other side of the sea.

“About a stone’s cast”

“He went a little farther” (Matthew 26:39).

“He was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast” (Luke 23:41).

A great crisis was now reached in the life of the Lord Jesus. He had not separated Himself from His disciples in this way before, nor had they ever parted company with Him. They would not leave Him, for they could not do without Him. When others turned their backs upon Him, they said: “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe and are sure that Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God,” and so bound to Him had they been, that He had said to them, “Ye are they that have continued with Me in My temptation.” They were His lovers and friends, and though they did not understand the exceeding sorrow that filled His soul, yet there was the sympathy of love in their hearts towards Him, and this was very precious in that hour to Him.

But now the parting time had come, if He was to fulfill the will of God. They follow Him to Gethsemane; they had often done so before, for Jesus ofttimes resorted thither with His disciples, and in the past they had watched with Him in the silence of the night beneath those olive trees while He held communion with His Father. But now it was different, and He says to them: “Sit ye here, while I go and pray YONDER.” Who can tell what that “yonder” meant to Him? He was about to enter the great conflict, and He “looked for comforters,” and as Peter and the sons of Zebedee entered more fully into His thoughts than the other disciples, He takes them with Him. Surely these three could give Him what He longed for, and watch with Him through that terrible hour! But He must leave them, also. “He says to them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful even to death; tarry ye here and watch with Me.” AND HE WENT A LITTLE FARTHER, or, as we read in Luke’s record, “He was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast.” In Matthew’s Gospel, Emmanuel is the King, and it was the prerogative of David’s royal Son to act in His own right, so there “He went.” In Luke’s record, He is the obedient and dependent Man, filled and anointed by the Spirit to do His Father’s business; hence there He is “withdrawn from them” by the Father’s will and the Spirit’s power. His own voluntary act was in absolute unison with the Father’s will and the Spirit’s leading.

But though it was only a stone’s cast that He was withdrawn from them, as a man would measure distance, in reality the distance was immeasurable. He had started on a road now upon which His disciples could not travel; He must take it alone. It was a road that never had been or could be travelled by any other human foot than His. And these disciples were never to be associated with Him in the old way again; that was a chapter which was closing; the links that bound Him to them as the Messiah of Israel were breaking now, and keenly He felt it.

Three times in the midst of His own great conflict He went back to them; for though they were unable to tread the road that He was treading, or watch with Him in it, yet His love towards them could not change; and they also were to pass through a stern sifting, and He wanted them for their own sakes to watch and pray. There was no response now to His earnest desire; the comforters He looked for failed Him, “He found them asleep.” Then, when they did awaken from that strange sleep, terror-stricken at the sight of His sorrow, “they all forsook Him and fled.”

Lover and friend were put far from Him; no mere human sympathy could help Him, for no human heart had ever suffered as His was to suffer. The cup from which He shrank was in His hand, and He must drink it until not a drop of its bitter contents remained; His Father’s will and His love to us conspired together to make Him take it without a murmur. But He must do it alone.
“Alone He bare the cross,
  Alone its grief sustained.”

He had told His disciples that this break would be for “a little while.” As a tender mother on leaving her timid child assures it that she will “soon come back,” so He assured them that they should see Him again. “A little while, and ye shall not see Me: and again a little while, and ye shall see Me: because I go to the Father.” The “little while” passed, and the “little farther,” the distance “about a stone’s cast,” with all its accumulated sorrow that had separated Him from them for that little while, was removed out of the way. And in resurrection He went after His broken-hearted, despairing, and scattered sheep, and gathered them together into one flock, and associated them with Himself in new and heavenly relationships, the blessedness of which they could never have conceived. We look back to that little while when He went a little farther, with deepest gratitude of heart, for but for the sorrow that He passed through then, we never could have sung, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?”

Love that suffered all the Sorrow

The more deeply we know the love of Jesus the more unknowable we find it to be: the more we consider the way of it the more amazed we stand at its wisdom and its warmth. It is not a blind love that may awaken to find flaws and faults in its objects that it knew not of, for it knew from the beginning with omniscient certainty all about the loved ones. It knew, also, with the unerring knowledge of God, the whole way of sorrow that must needs be trodden in order to obtain its desire. It is a love that cannot be disappointed or alarmed, and when the great tests came it neither faltered nor fled. We need not fear that it will break down or change now: it has been fully proved.
 “His love to the utmost was tried,
  Yet firmly endured as a rock.”

Consider that great crisis in the life of the Lord when Judas came with “a band of men and officers … with lanterns and torches and weapons” (John 18). How hideous, how hellish did the treachery and hatred of the human heart appear in that torchlight glare! Yet that band was but an advance guard, a flying column sent out to reconnoitre: behind them lay the hosts of darkness, waiting to crush and overwhelm Him. They were but as the spray of a stormy ocean cast up upon the strand: behind them surged the seas of sorrow, frightful and unfathomed. But how did He meet the crisis? He met it by saying, “Let these go their way.” He might have escaped what lay before, from one point of view, for two words of His were enough to paralyze His foes. But He would not use His divine might to save Himself, for had He done so He must have lost His loved ones. In their fervid devotion His disciples might well have put that band to flight, but He would not let them fight. Of what use would their feeble arms have been against all that lay behind that band of men who came to take Him with Judas as their leader? He saw what lay behind them — the awful sorrow, the malignity of Satan, the judgment of God, and He said, “Let these go their way.” He saw the wolf preparing to devour the sheep. He saw the righteous sword, also, that had awakened against His people’s sins, and He said, “Let these go their way: that the saying might be fulfilled which He spake, Of them which Thou gavest Me, I have lost none.”

He would bear all the sorrow alone. Not one pang must they feel of all those pangs that He would endure for them: not one stroke of all that judgment that He would bear must fall upon them. Not one drop of that bitter cup must gall their lips: He would drink it to the dregs and drink it alone for them. He would shield them from the suffering: stand between them and the threatening foe: become their Substitute under the judgment, and sacrifice Himself for them. That was the only way, and His love led Him that way, with steadfastness and deliberation, that He might keep for ever for Himself those that the Father had given Him. And we were represented there in those of whom He said, “Let these go their way.” And we can say, each for himself, “He loved me and gave Himself for me.”
“Guilt’s bitter cup,
  He drank it up,
  Left but the love for me.”
  He bore it all for me.

That Terrible Hour

“This is YOUR HOUR, and the power of darkness” (Luke 22:53).

“Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save me from THIS HOUR but for this cause came I to this hour. Father, glorify Thy name” (John 12:27).

Consider these words, my soul, in the presence of Him who spoke them. Note well the fact that there was an hour in the years of the Saviour’s life below that was full of horror for Him, an hour from which He shrank with a perfect shrinking, and from which He would have escaped had any way been found in heaven above or on earth beneath. It was the hour of the unrestrained hatred of men and of the power of darkness.

He had trodden a rough road, but in all His ways God had given His angels charge over Him, and in their hands they had borne Him up, lest at any time He should have dashed His foot against a stone. So that, though His adversaries hated Him with a virulent hatred, they could not hurt Him. They led Him to the edge of the rock upon which their city was built, in order to hurl Him into the abyss beneath it, but He, passing through the midst of them, went His way unharmed. The very stones that they picked up to cast at Him clave to their murderous hands while He “passed by.” No malice of evil, whether of men or devils, had been able to break through the unseen angelic cordon, but for this terrible hour that protection was taken away. An angel brought Him heavenly succour in the garden and withdrew, and He turned to His foes and said to them, “This is your hour and the power of darkness” (Luke 22:43-53).

It was then that every element of evil beset Him round about. The floods rolled upon Him, and no voice was uplifted to cry to them, “Hitherto shall ye come and no further.” The dread array that had sought means to crush Him during the days of His lowly service amongst men combined against Him. The reins that had restrained them were thrown free, there was no check upon them, and their utmost fury broke upon Him. He was reproached, despised, and railed upon. Strong bulls of Bashan encompassed Him, gaping upon Him as a ravening and roaring lion: dogs beset Him: the assembly of the wicked enclosed Him. The sword, the power of the dog, the lion’s mouth, the horns of the unicorn (Psalm 22) — all these in that dread hour sought out His soul to destroy Him: for to destroy Him was to destroy all that was good, and to overthrow Him was to overthrow the very throne of God. Upon Him — that one solitary Man, the Nazarene — who in that darkness had no helper, depended every hope of all the saints: the confidence of the host of great unfallen angelic principalities: the stability of the universe: and the supremacy of God.

We dwell upon the hatred of men, but we have seen nothing and known nothing so terrible as their hatred of Him, for never before, nor since, had proud men been confronted with absolute meekness: never before, nor since, had sin been unrestrained in the presence of perfect goodness, unprotected. But what of the malignity of the devil, and of those awful and entirely evil spiritual powers in rebellion against God, the roll of which is called in Psalm 22? Of these how little we know. Thank God, we know so little: we should have known much more had our Lord Jesus not faced them for us: but He knew, with divine and all-embracing prescience, their full strength before He entered that hour. Do we wonder that He prayed, “Father, save Me from this hour.” But how worthy of everlasting adoration is He because of that supremely blessed and full consecration of soul which made Him say, “FATHER, GLORIFY THY NAME.” This was the grand purpose of His life below, and to secure this He entered and passed through that hour.

It was the great hour in which darkness wrestled against light for the mastery. How closely He was beset in the palace of the High Priest: before the Sanhedrin: in the house of Pilate: before the throne of Herod: in the place called Gabbatha: on the road to Golgotha; and finally on the malefactor’s gibbet. We are permitted to hear His cry, “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 cleaves to My jaws: and Thou hast brought Me into the dust of death. … Deliver my soul. … Save Me.”

There was not a weapon in the vast armoury of evil, that Satan and his hosts had been preparing throughout the ages for this awful conflict, that was not brought against Him, the sent One of God, to force Him from the path of God’s will and to make Him cry, “I yield” to the authority of darkness. Yet He did not yield. He was wholly light, darkness could gain no foothold in Him. The prince of this world came, but he had nothing in Him. Blessed, holy, adorable Lord! Having exhausted every device of their almost boundless malice, and exhausted themselves in their fury against Him, they sat down to watch Him there (Matthew 27:36) — men and devils, amazed, baffled, defeated, crowding together about Him. Thrones and dominions had fallen before Satan as the great leader of all evil, so that he had become “the prince of this world,” and “the prince of the power of the air.” His conquests were far-reaching and his triumphs great: he had only to drive back the Son of God from doing the will of God and then would his victories be crowned with everlasting success: but in that one poor and lonely Man, despised by the people, abandoned by lover and friend, and forsaken of God, he met his conqueror.

Consider Him, my soul: He had neither reply nor reproach for the men who mocked Him: had He cursed them Satan would have triumphed, but only prayers for their blessing were forced from His suffering soul by their cruelty. He was laughed to scorn because God did not aid Him in His dire necessity: and to make Him cast off His faith was the enemy’s fell purpose; but neither repining nor rebuke was heard in His cries as He poured out His sorrow before God, whose ear seemed deaf to the voice of His supplication. Nevertheless He still cried, “My God, My God … O My God. … Thou art holy. … Thou art He. … I was cast upon Thee. … Thou art My God. … O My strength” (Psalm 22).

So He triumphed in that terrible hour, and trod the foes of God beneath His feet by being trodden down. And because no power of evil could overcome Him He was able to take up the question of sin on behalf of sinful men and settle that question to the everlasting glory of God by bearing His righteous judgment against it. He had suffered for righteousness, and in faithfulness to the will of God, but when the full tale of His suffering in regard to these was told, He entered into deeper depths and into a darker hour, for He was made “to be sin for us, who knew no sin.” It pleased the Lord to bruise Him. He put Him to grief when He made His soul an offering for sin. He died, and through death He has annulled him that had the power of death, that is, the devil. He lives again and has the keys of death and hades. He is crowned with glory and honour. He must be exalted and extolled, and made very high, and He shall see of the travail of His soul and be satisfied when the greatness of God’s triumph through Him is publicly manifested to the wide universe. How glorious is He. The forces of evil have been met and vanquished: the judgment of God against sin has been borne and His justice glorified: the power of death has been destroyed by His dying, and He lives to die no more. No wonder that His saints delight to sing —
“Bless, bless the Conqueror slain,
   Slain in His victory,
Who lived, who died, who lives again,
   For thee, His Church, for thee.”

“He was numbered with the transgressors”

“And when they came 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.” (Luke 23:33.)

 —

They searched the prison cells of Jerusalem that morning for the most debased of all the criminals that that city contained, and they led them out to die along with Jesus. These men had been guilty of appalling crimes, and that was why they were chosen to hang one on His right hand and the other on His left: that was why they put Him upon the centre and highest cross. They meant to proclaim by their well-considered and malicious plan that He was the worst of the three. Thus did they heap shame upon Him, adding deepest insult to deepest injury.

But I am glad that such men as these, and not James and John, were taken to be His companions on that day: in this the devil showed his lack of foresight, and in this he was outwitted, for if they had crucified the sons of Zebedee, one on His right hand and the other on His left, it would have been said that they were helping Him to finish His work of redemption. The devil would have deceived men, now that Jesus is proclaimed as a Saviour, and would have said: These holy men, His disciples, had their share in His work, so that you must not trust in Him alone, but trust also in St. John and St. James, for they are worthy of as much glory as He.

Such a deception cannot now be practised upon weary, anxious sinners; those murderers who hung with Him could have no hand in the work that He was doing. They were suffering for their own crimes, He, the sinless One, for yours and mine.
“Alone He bore the cross,
    Alone its grief sustained;
 His was the shame and loss,
    And He the victory gained.
 The mighty work was all His own,
 Though we shall share His glorious throne.”

Yes, Jesus is the Saviour, and He alone. Behold Him there upon that cross, the darkness and shame of His surroundings only throwing into brighter relief the glory of His person. See Him “numbered with the transgressors,” bearing the sin of many, and praying for His foes! How worthy is He of that name which is above every name!

Behold Him, the central object of man’s hatred: all the unspeakable enmity of men against God flung upon Him in scorn and shame, and cruelty unrestrained, and that, too, in the very hour when He stood forth as the infinite expression of God’s love to men. Truly, as we look upon Him there, every other actor in that solemn scene fades from the view, and He stands out alone in the incomparable glory of His own divine and unconquerable love.

Yet what an evidence it is of the utter darkness of the heart of unregenerate man, and of his complete alienation from God, that he should have heaped shame and execration upon the One who is the most glorious and everlastingly blessed Person in God’s universe, that he should have condemned Him to die between two malefactors upon a shameful cross, in whom was centred the eternal delight of the heart of the Father.

The Victory of Love

“And they took Jesus, and led Him away. And He bearing His cross went forth into a place called the place of a skull, which is called in the Hebrew Golgotha: where they crucified Him, and two other with him, on either side one, and Jesus in the midst.” — (John 19:16-17, 18.)

 —

“They took Jesus and led Him away” in that the guilt of men reached its flood-tide.

“He bearing His cross went forth”: in this was manifested the great victory of divine love over human hate. He was not dragged forth, nor driven forth; He went forth. No man took His life from Him; He laid it down Himself. The shouts of the rabble smote His ear and, with a holy sensitiveness, He keenly felt it all, and yet no thought of saving Himself was in His heart. In majestic lowliness He went forth, bearing His cross. He knew, to its last bitterness, all that the cross meant. He was not taken by surprise, nor did He go forth on the impulse of a moment. On the night that was passed in Gethsemane’s garden He had looked into the darkness and had fully counted the cost. He had talked of it on the holy mount with Moses and Elias. This hour had been planned in the council chamber of eternity ere ever He came, and now He does not draw back. There was no resistance, no regret, and every step He took towards Golgotha shook the kingdom of the devil.

And there “they crucified Him”; and the crucified Christ is God’s answer to the devil’s lie in Eden. For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). If God had left us to reap the bitter harvest of our rebellion and sin, we could not have complained; but, instead of this, He undertook to dispel the darkness and overthrow the power of the devil by this mighty and convincing proof of His love to us. Satan had made men believe that God was a hard Master, gathering where He had not strawed. God has proved that He is full of love by giving the very best gift that heaven contained, even His own beloved Son, to bear the penalty of our sin: and it is when the glorious light of this love shines into the hearts of men that Satan’s thraldom comes to an end. Jesus was lifted up upon the cross, and that lifting has declared the whole truth, and we who believe it have been drawn to Him. He has become our great attractive centre, and the devil no longer holds us as his prey. The lie is laid bare, the darkness of ignorance past, and God has triumphed: for the prince of this world is cast out of the hearts of those who believe. He no longer holds them as his citadel. They have surrendered themselves to the God whose perfect love has been demonstrated in the cross of Christ.

How great is the splendour of Calvary! By its glorious light we have been awakened from our night of sleep as by the rising sun at morn. We have been compelled to exclaim: “Then God did love us, after all!” The entrance of His Word has given light, and with light has come liberty. The curtains of darkness have been torn asunder, and our souls have stepped forth into the day.