The Secret of Christ's Glory

’ As many were astonished at Thee, His visage was so marred... so shall He sprinkle many nations.” — Isaiah Lii. 14, 15.

The idea I take to be, “In proportion to His reverses, so will be His power; in proportion to the marring of His visage will be His dominion over the nations,” That is a very original sentiment. It is not the common experience in the lives of men. The ordinary rule is that we succeed in proportion to our victories. The Egyptian, when he inscribes an epitaph upon the tomb, never tells of the reverses of his hero; he deems the flowers of life the best preservers of immortality. But the Prophet says there will be an exception to the rule — a man whose glory will come from what the world calls shame. He says the marred visage will be the one face in the gallery, the observed of all observers, the admired of all admirers. The observation, the admiration, will be, not in spite of, but by reason of, the marring; it will be inspired by His cross.

Son of Man, the paradox is realised in Thee. It is Thy viarred visage that has made Thee King. That by which Thou livest to-day is the thing by which men sought to kill Thee. It is Thy crown of thorns that has made Thy crown of glory. Not by Thy moments of outward majesty dost Thou survive in our hearts to-day. Not by the glories of Mount Tabor, not by the wonders of Lake Gennesaret, not even by the prophecies at Jerusalem’s gate, dost Thou sway the empire of our souls. It is Thy Cross that draws us. Thy blood that saves us. If we bow before Thy rising from the grave, it is because in Thy risen body we find the prints of the nails. We worship in Thee the thing we once despised. We once recoiled from those who suffered pain. We said in Judea, “They are the enemies of God; “we said in Rome, They are unfit for the work of Man.” But in Thee pain has been glorified. In Thee the weakest has become the survivor. In Thee the last is made first. In Thee the graveclothes have become earth’s royalest robes. In Thee sorrow has been turned into joy, defeat into victory, death into life. In Thee the thing deemed impure has become the purifier; men have washed their robes in Thy blood and made them white. The valley of the shadow becomes in Thee my gate of glory; I am no longer astonished that Thy visage was so marred.