Calvary
"And when they were come to the place, which is called Calvary, there they crucified Him."
"That He might sanctify the people with His own blood," Christ "suffered without the gate." Heb. 13:12. For transgression of the Law of God, Adam and Eve were banished from Eden. Christ, our substitute, was to suffer without the boundaries of Jerusalem. He died outside the gate, where felons and murderers were executed. Full of significance are the words, "Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the Law, being made a curse for us." Gal. 3:13.
A vast multitude followed Jesus from the judgment hall to Calvary. The news of His condemnation had spread throughout Jerusalem, and people of all classes and all ranks flocked toward the place of crucifixion. The priests and rulers had been bound by a promise not to molest Christ's followers if He Himself were delivered to them, and the disciples and believers from the city and the surrounding region joined the throng that followed the Saviour.
As Jesus passed the gate of Pilate's court, the cross which had been
prepared for Barabbas was laid upon His bruised and bleeding shoulders.
Two companions of Barabbas were to suffer death at the same time with Jesus,
and upon them also
crosses were placed. The Saviour's burden was too heavy for Him in
His weak and suffering condition. Since the Passover supper with His disciples,
He had taken neither food nor drink. He had agonized in the garden of Gethsemane
in conflict with satanic agencies. He had endured the anguish of the betrayal,
and had seen His disciples forsake Him and flee. He had been taken to Annas,
then to Caiaphas, and then to Pilate. From Pilate He had been sent to Herod,
then sent again to Pilate. From insult to renewed insult, from mockery
to mockery, twice tortured by the scourge,--all that night there had been
scene after scene of a character to try the soul of man to the uttermost.
Christ had not failed. He had spoken no word but that tended to glorify
God. All through the disgraceful farce of a trial He had borne Himself
with firmness and dignity. But when after the second scourging the cross
was laid upon Him, human nature could bear no more. He fell fainting beneath
the burden.
The crowd that followed the Saviour saw His weak and staggering steps,
but they manifested no compassion. They taunted and reviled Him because
He could not carry the heavy cross. Again the burden was laid upon Him,
and again He fell fainting to the
ground. His persecutors saw that it was impossible for Him to carry
His burden farther. They were puzzled to find anyone who would bear the
humiliating load. The Jews themselves could not do this, because the defilement
would prevent them from
keeping the Passover. None even of the mob that followed Him would
stoop to bear the cross.
At this time a stranger, Simon a Cyrenian, coming in from the country, meets the throng. He hears the taunts and ribaldry of the crowd; he hears the words contemptuously repeated, Make way for the King of the Jews! He stops in astonishment at the scene; and as he expresses his compassion, they seize him and place the cross upon his shoulders.
Simon had heard of Jesus. His sons were believers in the Saviour, but
he himself was not a disciple. The bearing of the cross to Calvary was
a blessing to Simon, and he was ever after grateful for this providence.
It led him to take upon himself the cross of
Christ from choice, and ever cheerfully stand beneath its burden.
Not a few women are in the crowd that follow the Uncondemned to His cruel death. Their attention is fixed upon Jesus. Some of them have seen Him before. Some have carried to Him their sick and suffering ones. Some have themselves been healed. The story of the scenes that have taken place is related. They wonder at the hatred of the crowd toward Him for whom their own hearts are melting and ready to break.
And notwithstanding the action of the maddened throng, and the angry words of the priests and rulers, these women give expression to their sympathy. As Jesus falls fainting beneath the cross, they break forth into mournful wailing.
This was the only thing that attracted Christ's attention. Although full of suffering, while bearing the sins of the world, He was not indifferent to the expression of grief. He looked upon these women with tender compassion. They were not believers in Him; He knew that they were not lamenting Him as one sent from God, but were moved by feelings of human pity. He did not despise their sympathy, but it awakened in His heart a deeper sympathy for them. "Daughters of Jerusalem," He said, "weep not for Me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children." From the scene before Him, Christ looked forward to the time of Jerusalem's destruction. In that terrible scene, many of those who were now weeping for Him were to perish with their children.
From the fall of Jerusalem the thoughts of Jesus passed to a wider judgment.
In the destruction of the impenitent city He saw a symbol of the final
destruction to come upon the world. He said, "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?" By the green tree, Jesus represented Himself,
the innocent Redeemer. God suffered His wrath against transgression to
fall on His beloved Son. Jesus was to be crucified for the sins of men.
What suffering, then, would the sinner bear who continued in sin? All the
impenitent and unbelieving would know a sorrow and misery that language
would fail to express.
Of the multitude that followed the Saviour to Calvary, many had attended
Him with joyful hosannas and the waving of palm branches as He rode triumphantly
into Jerusalem. But not a few who had then shouted His praise, because
it was popular to
do so, now swelled the cry of "Crucify Him, crucify Him." When Christ
rode into Jerusalem, the hopes of the disciples had been raised to the
highest pitch. They had pressed close about their Master, feeling that
it was a high honor to be connected with Him. Now in His humiliation they
followed Him at a distance. They were filled with grief, and bowed down
with disappointed hopes. How were the words of Jesus verified: "All ye
shall be offended because of Me this night: for it is written, I will smite
the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad." Matt.
26:31.
Arriving at the place of execution, the prisoners were bound to the
instruments of torture. The two thieves wrestled in the hands of those
who placed them on the cross; but Jesus made no resistance. The mother
of Jesus, supported by John the beloved
disciple, had followed the steps of her Son to Calvary. She had seen
Him fainting under the burden of the cross, and had longed to place a supporting
hand beneath His wounded head, and to bathe that brow which had once been
pillowed upon her
bosom. But she was not permitted this mournful privilege. With the
disciples she still cherished the hope that Jesus would manifest His power,
and deliver Himself from His enemies. Again her heart would sink as she
recalled the words in which He had foretold the very scenes that were then
taking place. As the thieves were bound to the cross, she looked on with
agonizing suspense. Would He who had given life to the dead suffer Himself
to be crucified? Would the Son of God suffer Himself to be thus cruelly
slain? Must she give up her faith that Jesus was the Messiah? Must she
witness His shame and sorrow, without even the privilege of ministering
to Him in His distress? She saw His hands stretched upon the cross; the
hammer and the nails were brought, and as the spikes were driven through
the tender flesh, the heart-stricken disciples bore away from the cruel
scene the fainting form of the mother of Jesus.
The Saviour made no murmur of complaint. His face remained calm and
serene, but great drops of sweat stood upon His brow. There was no pitying
hand to wipe the death dew from His face, nor words of sympathy and unchanging
fidelity to stay His human heart. While the soldiers were doing their fearful
work, Jesus prayed for His enemies, "Father, forgive them; for they know
not what they do." His mind passed from His own suffering to the sin of
His persecutors, and the terrible retribution that
would be theirs. No curses were called down upon the soldiers who were
handling Him so roughly. No vengeance was invoked upon the priests and
rulers, who were gloating over the accomplishment of their purpose. Christ
pitied them in their ignorance and guilt. He breathed only a plea for their
forgiveness,--"for they know not what they do."
Had they known that they were putting to torture One who had come to save the sinful race from eternal ruin, they would have been seized with remorse and horror. But their ignorance did not remove their guilt; for it was their privilege to know and accept Jesus as their Saviour. Some of them would yet see their sin, and repent, and be converted. Some by their impenitence would make it an impossibility for the prayer of Christ to be answered for them. Yet, just the same, God's purpose was reaching its fulfillment. Jesus was earning the right to become the advocate of men in the Father's presence.
That prayer of Christ for His enemies embraced the world. It took in every sinner that had lived or should live, from the beginning of the world to the end of time. Upon all rests the guilt of crucifying the Son of God. To all, forgiveness is freely offered. "Whosoever will" may have peace with God, and inherit eternal life.
As soon as Jesus was nailed to the cross, it was lifted by strong men,
and with great violence thrust into the place prepared for it. This caused
the most intense agony to the Son of God. Pilate then wrote an inscription
in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, and placed it upon the cross, above the head
of Jesus. It read, "Jesus of Nazareth the King of the Jews." This inscription
irritated the Jews. In Pilate's court they had cried, "Crucify Him." "We
have no king but Caesar." John 19:15. They had declared that whoever should
acknowledge any other king was a traitor. Pilate wrote out the sentiment
they had expressed. No offense was mentioned, except that Jesus was the
King of the Jews. The inscription was a virtual acknowledgment of the allegiance
of the Jews to the Roman power. It declared that whoever might claim to
be the King of Israel would be judged by them worthy of death. The priests
had overreached themselves. When they were plotting the death of Christ,
Caiaphas had declared it expedient that one man should die to save the
nation. Now their hypocrisy was revealed. In order to destroy
Christ, they had been ready to sacrifice even their national existence.
The priests saw what they had done, and asked Pilate to change the inscription.
They said, "Write not, The King of the Jews; but that He said, I am King
of the Jews." But Pilate was angry with himself because of his former weakness,
and he thoroughly
despised the jealous and artful priests and rulers. He replied coldly,
"What I have written I have written."
A higher power than Pilate or the Jews had directed the placing of that
inscription above the head of Jesus. In the providence of God it was to
awaken thought, and investigation of the Scriptures. The place where Christ
was crucified was near to the
city. Thousands of people from all lands were then at Jerusalem, and
the inscription declaring Jesus of Nazareth the Messiah would come to their
notice. It was a living truth, transcribed by a hand that God had guided.
In the sufferings of Christ upon the cross prophecy was fulfilled. Centuries
before the crucifixion, the Saviour had foretold the treatment He was to
receive. He said, "Dogs have compassed Me: the assembly of the wicked have
enclosed Me: they pierced My hands and My feet. I may tell all My bones:
they look and stare upon Me. They part My garments among them, and cast
lots upon My vesture." Ps. 22:16-18. The prophecy concerning His garments
was carried out without counsel or interference
from the friends or the enemies of the Crucified One. To the soldiers
who had placed Him upon the cross, His clothing was given. Christ heard
the men's contention as they parted the garments among them. His tunic
was woven throughout without seam, and they said, "Let us not rend it,
but cast lots for it, whose it shall be."
In another prophecy the Saviour declared, "Reproach hath broken My heart;
and I am full of heaviness: and I looked for some to take pity, but there
was none; and for comforters, but I found none. They gave Me also gall
for My meat; and in My thirst
they gave Me fermented wine to drink." Ps. 69:20, 21. To those who
suffered death by the cross, it was permitted to give a stupefying potion,
to deaden the sense of pain. This was offered to Jesus; but when He had
tasted it, He refused it. He would receive nothing that could becloud His
mind. His faith must keep fast hold upon God. This was His only strength.
To becloud His senses would give Satan an advantage.
The enemies of Jesus vented their rage upon Him as He hung upon the
cross. Priests, rulers, and scribes joined with the mob in mocking the
dying Saviour. At the baptism and at the transfiguration the voice of God
had been heard proclaiming Christ as His
Son. Again, just before Christ's betrayal, the Father had spoken, witnessing
to His divinity. But now the voice from heaven was silent. No testimony
in Christ's favor was heard. Alone He suffered abuse and mockery from wicked
men.
"If Thou be the Son of God," they said, "come down from the cross."
"Let Him save Himself, if He be Christ, the chosen of God." In the wilderness
of temptation Satan had declared, "If Thou be the Son of God, command that
these stones be made bread." "If Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down"
from the pinnacle of the temple. Matt. 4:3, 6. And Satan with his angels,
in human form, was present at the cross. The archfiend and his hosts were
co-operating with the priests and rulers. The
teachers of the people had stimulated the ignorant mob to pronounce
judgment against One upon whom many of them had never looked, until urged
to bear testimony against Him. Priests, rulers, Pharisees, and the hardened
rabble were confederated together in a satanic frenzy. Religious rulers
united with Satan and his angels. They were doing his bidding.
Jesus, suffering and dying, heard every word as the priests declared, "He saved others; Himself He cannot save. Let Christ the King of Israel descend now from the cross, that we may see and believe." Christ could have come down from the cross. But it is because He would not save Himself that the sinner has hope of pardon and favor with God.
In their mockery of the Saviour, the men who professed to be the expounders
of prophecy were repeating the very words which Inspiration had foretold
they would utter upon this occasion. Yet in their blindness they did not
see that they were fulfilling
the prophecy. Those who in derision uttered the words, "He trusted
in God; let Him deliver Him now, if He will have Him: for He said, I am
the Son of God," little thought that their testimony would sound down the
ages. But although spoken in mockery,
these words led men to search the Scriptures as they had never done
before. Wise men heard, searched, pondered, and prayed. There were those
who never rested until, by comparing scripture with scripture, they saw
the meaning of Christ's mission. Never before was there such a general
knowledge of Jesus as when He hung upon the cross. Into the hearts of many
who beheld the crucifixion scene, and who heard Christ's words, the light
of truth was shining.
To Jesus in His agony on the cross there came one gleam of comfort.
It was the prayer of the penitent thief. Both the men who were crucified
with Jesus had at first railed upon Him; and one under his suffering only
became more desperate and defiant. But
not so with his companion. This man was not a hardened criminal; he
had been led astray by evil associations, but he was less guilty than many
of those who stood beside the cross reviling the Saviour. He had seen and
heard Jesus, and had been convicted by His teaching, but he had been turned
away from Him by the priests and rulers. Seeking to stifle conviction,
he had plunged deeper and deeper into sin, until he was arrested, tried
as a criminal, and condemned to die on the cross. In the judgment hall
and on the way to Calvary he had been in company with Jesus. He had heard
Pilate declare, "I find no fault in Him." John 19:4. He had marked His
godlike bearing, and His pitying forgiveness of His tormentors. On the
cross he sees the many great religionists shoot out the tongue with scorn,
and ridicule the Lord Jesus. He sees the wagging heads. He hears the upbraiding
speeches taken up by his companion in guilt: "If Thou be Christ, save Thyself
and us." Among the passers-by he
hears many defending Jesus. He hears them repeat His words, and tell
of His works. The conviction comes back to him that this is the Christ.
Turning to his fellow criminal he says, "Dost not thou fear God, seeing
thou art in the same condemnation?" The dying thieves have no longer anything
to fear from man. But upon one of them presses the conviction that there
is a God to fear, a future to cause him to tremble. And now, all sin-polluted
as it is, his life history is about to close. "And we indeed justly," he
moans; "for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this Man hath done
nothing amiss."
There is no question now. There are no doubts, no reproaches. When condemned
for his crime, the thief had become hopeless and despairing; but strange,
tender thoughts now spring up. He calls to mind all he has heard of Jesus,
how He has healed the sick and pardoned sin. He has heard the words of
those who believed in Jesus and followed Him weeping. He has seen and read
the title above the Saviour's head. He has heard the passers-by repeat
it, some with grieved, quivering lips, others with
jesting and mockery. The Holy Spirit illuminates his mind, and little
by little the chain of evidence is joined together. In Jesus, bruised,
mocked, and hanging upon the cross, he sees the Lamb of God, that taketh
away the sin of the world. Hope is mingled with anguish in his voice as
the helpless, dying soul casts himself upon a dying Saviour. "Lord, remember
me," he cries, "when Thou comest into Thy kingdom."
Quickly the answer came. Soft and melodious the tone, full of love,
compassion, and power the words: Verily I say unto thee today, Thou shalt
be with Me in paradise. For long hours of agony, reviling and mockery have
fallen upon the ears of Jesus. As
He hangs upon the cross, there floats up to Him still the sound of
jeers and curses. With longing heart He has listened for some expression
of faith from His disciples. He has heard only the mournful words, "We
trusted that it had been He which should have redeemed Israel." How grateful
then to the Saviour was the utterance of faith and love from the dying
thief! While the leading Jews deny Him, and even the disciples doubt His
divinity, the poor thief, upon the brink of eternity, calls Jesus Lord.
Many were ready to call Him Lord when He wrought miracles, and after He
had risen from the grave; but none acknowledged Him as He hung dying upon
the cross save the penitent thief who was saved at the eleventh hour.
The bystanders caught the words as the thief called Jesus Lord. The
tone of the repentant man arrested their attention. Those who at the foot
of the cross had been quarreling over Christ's garments, and casting lots
upon His vesture, stopped to listen.
Their angry tones were hushed. With bated breath they looked upon Christ,
and waited for the response from those dying lips.
As He spoke the words of promise, the dark cloud that seemed to enshroud
the cross was pierced by a bright and living light. To the penitent thief
came the perfect peace of acceptance with God. Christ in His humiliation
was glorified. He who in all other eyes appeared to be conquered was a
Conqueror. He was acknowledged as the Sin Bearer. Men may exercise power
over His human body. They may pierce the holy temples with the crown of
thorns. They may strip from Him His raiment, and quarrel
over its division. But they cannot rob Him of His power to forgive
sins. In dying He bears testimony to His own divinity and to the glory
of the Father. His ear is not heavy that it cannot hear, neither His arm
shortened that it cannot save. It is His royal right to save unto the uttermost
all who come unto God by Him.
I say unto thee today, Thou shalt be with Me in Paradise. Christ did not promise that the thief should be with Him in Paradise that day. He Himself did not go that day to Paradise. He slept in the tomb, and on the morning of the resurrection He said, "I am not yet ascended to My Father." John 20:17. But on the day of the crucifixion, the day of apparent defeat and darkness, the promise was given. "Today" while dying upon the cross as a malefactor, Christ assures the poor sinner, Thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.
The thieves crucified with Jesus were placed "on either side one, and
Jesus in the midst." This was done by the direction of the priests and
rulers. Christ's position between the thieves was to indicate that He was
the greatest criminal of the three. Thus
was fulfilled the scripture, "He was numbered with the transgressors."
Isa. 53:12. But the full meaning of their act the priests did not see.
As Jesus, crucified with the thieves, was placed "in the midst," so His
cross was placed in the midst of a world lying in sin. And the words of
pardon spoken to the penitent thief kindled a light that will shine to
the earth's remotest bounds.
With amazement the angels beheld the infinite love of Jesus, who, suffering
the most intense agony of mind and body, thought only of others, and encouraged
the penitent soul to believe. In His humiliation He as a prophet had addressed
the daughters of
Jerusalem; as priest and advocate He had pleaded with the Father to
forgive His murderers; as a loving Saviour He had forgiven the sins of
the penitent thief.
As the eyes of Jesus wandered over the multitude about Him, one figure
arrested His attention. At the foot of the cross stood His mother, supported
by the disciple John. She could not endure to remain away from her Son;
and John, knowing that the end was near, had brought her again to the cross.
In His dying hour, Christ remembered His mother. Looking into her grief-stricken
face and then upon John, He said to her, "Woman, behold thy son!" then
to John, "Behold thy mother!" John understood Christ's words, and accepted
the trust. He at once took Mary to his home, and from that hour cared for
her tenderly. O pitiful, loving Saviour; amid all His physical pain and
mental anguish, He had a thoughtful care for His mother! He had no money
with which to provide for her comfort; but He was enshrined in the heart
of John, and He gave His mother to him as a precious legacy. Thus He provided
for her that which she most needed, -- the tender sympathy of one who loved
her because she loved Jesus. And in receiving her as a sacred trust, John
was receiving a great blessing. She was a constant
reminder of his beloved Master.
The perfect example of Christ's filial love shines forth with undimmed
luster from the mist of ages. For nearly thirty years Jesus by His daily
toil had helped bear the burdens of the home. And now, even in His last
agony, He remembers to provide for His
sorrowing, widowed mother. The same spirit will be seen in every disciple
of our Lord. Those who follow Christ will feel that it is a part of their
religion to respect and provide for their parents. From the heart where
His love is cherished, father and mother will never fail of receiving thoughtful
care and tender sympathy.
And now the Lord of glory was dying, a ransom for the race. In yielding
up His precious life, Christ was not upheld by triumphant joy. All was
oppressive gloom. It was not the dread of death that weighed upon Him.
It was not the pain and ignominy of the cross that caused His inexpressible
agony. Christ was the prince of sufferers; but His suffering was from a
sense of the malignity of sin, a knowledge that through familiarity with
evil, man had become blinded to its enormity. Christ saw how
deep is the hold of sin upon the human heart, how few would be willing
to break from its power. He knew that without help from God, humanity must
perish, and He saw multitudes perishing within reach of abundant help.
Upon Christ as our substitute and surety was laid the iniquity of us all. He was counted a transgressor, that He might redeem us from the condemnation of the Law. The guilt of every descendant of Adam was pressing upon His heart. The wrath of God against sin, the terrible manifestation of His displeasure because of iniquity, filled the soul of His Son with consternation. All His life Christ had been publishing to a fallen world the good news of the Father's mercy and pardoning love. Salvation for the chief of sinners was His theme. But now with the terrible weight of guilt He bears, He cannot see the Father's reconciling face. The withdrawal of the divine countenance from the Saviour in this hour of supreme anguish pierced His heart with a sorrow that can never be fully understood by man. So great was this agony that His physical pain was hardly felt.
Satan with his fierce temptations wrung the heart of Jesus. The Saviour
could not see through the portals of the tomb. Hope did not present to
Him His coming forth from the grave a conqueror, or tell Him of the Father's
acceptance of the sacrifice. He
feared that sin was so offensive to God that Their separation was to
be eternal. Christ felt the anguish which the sinner will feel when mercy
shall no longer plead for the guilty race. It was the sense of sin, bringing
the Father's wrath upon Him as man's substitute, that made the cup He drank
so bitter, and broke the heart of the Son of God.
With amazement angels witnessed the Saviour's despairing agony. The hosts of heaven veiled their faces from the fearful sight. Inanimate nature expressed sympathy with its insulted and dying Author. The sun refused to look upon the awful scene. Its full, bright rays were illuminating the earth at midday, when suddenly it seemed to be blotted out. Complete darkness, like a funeral pall, enveloped the cross. "There was darkness over all the land unto the ninth hour." There was no eclipse or other natural cause for this darkness, which was as deep as midnight without moon or stars. It was a miraculous testimony given by God that the faith of after generations might be confirmed.
In that thick darkness God's presence was hidden. He makes darkness His pavilion, and conceals His glory from human eyes. God and His holy angels were beside the cross. The Father was with His Son. Yet His presence was not revealed. Had His glory flashed forth from the cloud, every human beholder would have been destroyed. And in that dreadful hour Christ was not to be comforted with the Father's presence. He trod the wine press alone, and of the people there was none with Him.
In the thick darkness, God veiled the last human agony of His Son. All
who had seen Christ in His suffering had been convicted of His divinity.
That face, once beheld by humanity, was never forgotten. As the face of
Cain expressed his guilt as a murderer,
so the face of Christ revealed innocence, serenity, benevolence, --
the image of God. But His accusers would not give heed to the signet of
heaven. Through long hours of agony Christ had been gazed upon by the jeering
multitude. Now He was mercifully
hidden by the mantle of God.
The silence of the grave seemed to have fallen upon Calvary. A nameless
terror held the throng that was gathered about the cross. The cursing and
reviling ceased in the midst of half-uttered sentences. Men, women, and
children fell prostrate upon the
earth. Vivid lightnings occasionally flashed forth from the cloud,
and revealed the cross and the crucified Redeemer. Priests, rulers, scribes,
executioners, and the mob, all thought that their time of retribution had
come. After a while some whispered that
Jesus would now come down from the cross. Some attempted to grope their
way back to the city, beating their breasts and wailing in fear.
At the ninth hour the darkness lifted from the people, but still enveloped
the Saviour. It was a symbol of the agony and horror that weighed upon
His heart. No eye could pierce the gloom that surrounded the cross, and
none could penetrate the deeper
gloom that enshrouded the suffering soul of Christ. The angry lightnings
seemed to be hurled at Him as He hung upon the cross. Then "Jesus cried
with a loud voice, saying, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" "My God, My God,
why hast Thou forsaken Me?" As the outer gloom settled about the Saviour,
many voices exclaimed: "The vengeance of heaven is upon Him. The bolts
of God's wrath are hurled at Him, because He claimed to be the Son of God."
Many who believed on Him heard His despairing cry. Hope left them. If God
had forsaken Jesus, in what could His followers trust?
When the darkness lifted from the oppressed spirit of Christ, He revived to a sense of physical suffering, and said, "I thirst." One of the Roman soldiers, touched with pity as he looked at the parched lips, took a sponge on a stalk of hyssop, and dipping it in a vessel of fermented wine, offered it to Jesus. But the priests mocked at His agony. When darkness covered the earth, they had been filled with fear; as their terror abated, the dread returned that Jesus would yet escape them. His words, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" they had misinterpreted. With bitter contempt and scorn they said, "This man calleth for Elias." The last opportunity to relieve His sufferings they refused. "Let be," they said, "let us see whether Elias will come to save Him."
The spotless Son of God hung upon the cross, His flesh lacerated with
stripes; those hands so often reached out in blessing, nailed to the wooden
bars; those feet so tireless on ministries of love, spiked to the tree;
that royal head pierced by the crown of thorns; those quivering lips shaped
to the cry of woe. And all that He endured -- the blood drops that flowed
from His head, His hands, His feet, the agony that racked His frame, and
the unutterable anguish that filled His soul at the hiding of His Father's
face -- speaks to each child of humanity, declaring, It is for thee
that the Son of God consents to bear this burden of guilt; for thee He
spoils the domain of death, and opens the gates of Paradise. He, who stilled
the angry waves and walked the foam-capped billows, who made devils tremble
and disease flee, who opened blind eyes and called forth the dead to life,
-- offers Himself upon the cross as a sacrifice, and this from love to
thee.
He, the Sin Bearer, endures the wrath of divine justice, and for thy sake becomes sin itself.
In silence the beholders watched for the end of the fearful scene. The
sun shone forth; but the cross was still enveloped in darkness. Priests
and rulers looked toward Jerusalem; and lo, the dense cloud had settled
over the city and the plains of Judea.
The Sun of Righteousness, the Light of the world, was withdrawing His
beams from the once favored city of Jerusalem. The fierce lightnings of
God's wrath were directed against the fated city.
Suddenly the gloom lifted from the cross, and in clear, trumpetlike tones, that seemed to resound throughout creation, Jesus cried, "It is finished." "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit." A light encircled the cross, and the face of the Saviour shone with a glory like the sun. He then bowed His head upon His breast, and died.
Amid the awful darkness, apparently forsaken of God, Christ had drained
the last dregs in the cup of human woe. In those dreadful hours He had
relied upon the evidence of His Father's acceptance heretofore given Him.
He was acquainted with the
character of His Father; He understood His justice, His mercy, and
His great love. By faith He rested in Him whom it had ever been His joy
to obey. And as in submission He committed Himself to God, the sense of
the loss of His Father's favor was
withdrawn. By faith, Christ was victor.
~ excerpt from ' The Desire of Ages ', pages 741-756
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