Christ's Absolute Loneliness

IT is not uncommon for religious teachers to appeal to compassion, while dwelling upon the trial and condemnation of Jesus Christ. Whether such appeal does not, in one of its aspects at least, proceed upon a moral misconception, is a legitimate and practical inquiry. Let the circumstances in which Jesus Christ was placed,. be regarded as circumstances which might, by a stretch of possibility, have arisen out of a merely fanatical state of mind on His own part; when this extrusion of the Divine element has been mentally completed, — and by so much the reader has placed himself, not only morally but chronologically, by the side of those who condemned Jesus Christ, — we have to inquire whether it is probable that the high priest, scribes, elders, and common citizens, could one and all have been utterly mistaken in their judgment of an ambitious fanatic? Here is a young man whose social antecedents are well known; he has spent two or three years in a strange sort of public life, uttering startling words about God, society, truth, and futurity; those words have been accompanied by extraordinary deeds, nearly all of which have been re-constructive, and therefore so far indicative of a gentle and gracious spirit; a few very common people have been gathered around Him under the name of His disciples; but so far as

appearances go, there is no probability that He will ever E

secure the confidence of the educated and influential classes; and as He condemns everything like political organisation or physical display on behalf of His claims, the established powers have nothing to fear from His work. That such a man should be brought to trial at all, may excite surprise; the fact, however, that when He is brought to judgment He is unanimously condemned to death by the leaders of the most religious nation in the world, is at least presumptive evidence that He, still viewed simply as a mere enthusiast, was wrong and His judges were right. If His condemnation had been limited to a party, the case would have been quite explicable upon common grounds. If the multitude had condemned Him, He would have been the victim of a vulgar conspiracy; if the priests had condemned Him, He would have been sacrificed to sacerdotal intolerance; if the Roman power had condemned Him, He would have been overborne by a foreign despotism, and patriotic Jews would have seen in His case all the degradation and ignominy of their own vassalage. The evidence shows, however, that even His own “disciples forsook Him and fled,” and that not one person opposed the sentence as a misinterpretation of Mosaic law, or as involving an outrage of Jewish institutions. Upon the assumption that Jesus Christ was a political adventurer or a religious fanatic, it is surely not too much to suppose that the authorised expositors of the law were able to estimate correctly the value of the evidence, and to pronounce with scholarly calmness and judicial impartiality the conclusion to which that evidence pointed. The question really before the judges was not a political one, or if the political side was unduly urged, we may infer how little there was in it to excite apprehension when Pilate himself, as the interpreter and administrator of the civil law, pronounced Jesus Christ a “just person.” Pilate thrice inquired, “What evil hath He done?” and showed by his hesitation that at least so far as the Roman law was concerned he saw no case against Jesus Christ. “And Pilate, when he had called together the chief priests and the rulers and the -people, said unto them, Ye have brought this man unto me, as one that perverteth the people: and, behold, I, having examined Him before you, have found no fault in this man touching those things whereof ye accuse Him; no, nor yet Herod, for I sent you to him, and, lo, nothing worthy of death is done unto Him” (Luke xxiii. 13-15). This evidence from the highest authorities at once annihilates the charge of political treason, and throws the mind back upon Jesus Christ’s attitude in relation to the religious laws and institutions of His country.

A great difficulty, on the assumption that Jesus Christ was a mere enthusiast honestly bent upon doing good, is His entire desertion by the persons who had accompanied Him throughout the most of His ministry. Even if they remained secretly attached to Him, it is remarkable that not one of them should have openly defended His cause; and this is the more surprising as He Himself had distinctly told them what was impending, and received from them the clearest assurances of constancy. The conversation is most striking: “Then saith Jesus unto them, 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; but after I am risen again I will go before you into Galilee. Peter answered and said unto Him, Though all men shall be offended because of Thee, yet will I never be offended. Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, that this night, before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice. Peter said unto him, Though I should die with Thee, yet will I not deny Thee. Likewise also said all the disciples.” It should be specially noted that all the disciples were distinctly told what was about to take place, and that without exception, though they were assured that the crisis was imminent, they declared themselves ready to go with their Master even to death. The time of suffering was not remote; it was actually this night; so that there was no time for courage to fail, supposing the case to have been one which appealed to courage merely as such. The disciples cannot, of course, be classed with those who took an active part in condemning Jesus Christ to crucifixion, yet in the face of their own declaration of intense attachment, they abandoned their Master in the crisis of His difficulties. It is true that Jesus Christ, as He was led away to be crucified, was followed by “a great company of people and of women, which also bewailed and lamented Him,” but it is also true that at that time “the bitterness of death” was past, and there remained only the very lowest form of suffering, the suffering of the body. Viewed morally, there can be little doubt that the kiss of betrayal was more painful than the tortures of crucifixion; the former had a direct bearing upon the soul, the latter an effect upon the flesh only, What, therefore, is certain, according to the evidence, is that at the critical point — a point hardly measurable by — tume, yet of the profoundest moral significance — Jesus Christ was left absolutely alone; the people, generally, execrated His name; the highest classes were filled with indignation against Him; His own disciples forsook Him and fled; the first follower whom He had called was cursing and swearing, and denying that he knew the man; even His own mother is standing in the darkness as if a great shock had suddenly separated her from her Son. There was then one point of absolute loneliness, and with that point our inquiry is concerned. On the assumption that Jesus Christ was merely an honest and earnest man, even though highly fanatical in one or two of His notions, is it probable (we do not say possible) that He would be left entirely without disciple or friend, without even His own mother, in the most critical moment of His life? Is it probable that the most intimate knowledge, the most tender regard, and the most fervent declarations of constancy, would, all at once, be disregarded or forgotten as if they had never had an existence? The question appeals to the common instincts of human nature, and if it can be answered in the affirmative we may see how insecure are the most sacred relationships of men. The inquiry is put, on the distinct assumption that Jesus Christ was merely a benevolent enthusiast, who had lived an honest and

useful life in the presence of all classes of His countrymen. It may give more sharpness of application to the question if we put it to ourselves in this practical shape, — I have received the highest advantage from a given man; He has ministered alike to the body and the soul; having seen His life, I know it to have been pure and sound; I have told Him that death itself shall not separate me from Him; is it probable that within a few minutes I can abandon Him as though He had done me an injury, or deny Him with oaths and cursing? The question is not, whether something may not arise in the future to shake trust, but whether, having heard a distinct prediction of all that was impending, and having pledged life itself in proof of constancy, a man can, within a few hours, falsify himself in every particular? Of course he can do so if he is a hypocrite, but there is no evidence that Jesus Christ’s eleven disciples were chargeable with hypocrisy. Jesus Christ did not scruple to denominate Judas Iscariot a devil, but He never questioned the sincerity of the other disciples; on the supposition that all the disciples were hypocrites, their abandonment of their Master is easily accounted for; but the case which on one side doubles the difficulty, may even raise an impossibility on the other, for Jesus Christ would not after His resurrection have

70 Lhe Prtesthood of Christ.

characterised a body of hypocrites as “my disciples.” It is clear, then, that the disciples must be regarded as sincere men, nor must the sincerity of the women be denied; still there was a point of absolute loneliness in the history of Jesus Christ, which is the more remarkable, as immediately before it there was a pledge of love, and immediately after it there were signs of returning constancy, and one or two noted men, even, were not ashamed to beg the body of Jesus. How is it to be explained that strong men and loving women could have faltered even for an instant, or having faltered could recover their steadfastness, and yet more positively than ever avow their discipleship?

It is remarkable, simply as a fact; and yet more so as hinting at a solution of the difficulty, that Jesus Christ Himself never reproached the disciples for their momentary separation from Him. When He predicted the desertion He did not condemn it; when He rejoined the disciples He did not allude to it; even when He conversed with Peter, He spoke as if more intent upon laying down the law of service than upon conducting a personal impeachment. Had the desertion been an intermission of constancy in the ordinary sense of the terms, it would have been an unaccountable oversight on the part of Jesus Christ not to have referred to it, and made it the ground of very urgent admonition; on the other hand, not only is no allusion made to it, but the disciples are addressed as if their attachment had never been impaired, and the most arduous commission is intrusted to them as if they had displayed a strength beyond exhaustion, and a courage superior to danger.

-It is quite common, as we have said, to address an appeal to the natural sensibilities on the ground that Jesus Christ was cruelly treated. It has been stated that it is possible for such an appeal to proceed on a moral misconception; it may be added, that apart from a moral

Christ’s Absolute Loneliness. vp

misconception, the appeal is inadmissible. Of course, the merely incidental barbarity shocks the common feelings of the world; such barbarity, for example, as the soldiers perpetrated when they put a crown of thorns on Jesus Christ’s head, and spat on Him, and smote Him with their hands, and mocked Him as King of the Jews; all this may be set aside as the wanton brutality of excited men; the real suffering of Jesus Christ lay far beyond such outrage, and, much as we may pity it or condemn the men who inflicted it, we must, before our own heart can know the agonies of contrition, feel that we ourselves would, under the same circumstances, have done precisely as the tormentors of Jesus Christ did, and must further feel that our moral constitution revolts as desperately from Jesus Christ’s claims to be our personal Saviour as did the moral constitution of those who, by wicked hands, put Him to the death of the cross. By a skill which is rather adroit than profound, modern criticism reflects upon the Jews who crucified Jesus Christ as if they had incurred a guilt which is entirely their own, as if they had committed the most atrocious of murders, and brought eternal infamy on their name; whereas, it is true, in the deepest sense, that every man crucifies Jesus Christ before accepting Him, that man the genus, not man the idiidual, is responsible for the crucifixion, so that, though the merely bodily suffering was not caused by our hands, the great sorrows which overbore, and finally burst the heart of Jesus Christ, were occasioned by human sin.

This anticipates the solution of the inquiry, — How is the period of Jesus Christ’s absolute loneliness to be accounted for? We have so far purposely excluded the hypothesis of His divinity, and fixed the mind closely upon the line of evidence as affecting a man who has, in connection with many beautiful words and many wonderful deeds, associated a good deal of fanaticism; up to the very night of His condemnation His disciples assured Him of their most devoted veneration and love, yet almost as soon as the assurance was given, they “all forsook Him and fled;” the wise Speaker, the great Worker, the gentle Friend, was not only condemned by the leaders of religion, and by the culture and influence of His time, but forsaken by those who for years had been His followers and beneficiaries. Is this explicable upon the theory of Jesus Christ’s simple humanity? Assuming it to be partially explicable upon that theory, is there any other theory which more satisfactorily meets the difficulty? Allowing it to come very narrowly within the lmits of possibility, was such a desertion necessary in the case of a merely deluded visionary? Instead, however, of regarding the history of Jesus Christ merely as a remarkable variation of common life, let it now be assumed that Jesus Christ was the Saviour of men, — the foretold Redeemer who was to be wounded for the transgressions of the whole world. Instantly the evidence becomes susceptible of a deeper interpretation than if it had related only to a common case in Jewish or Roman jurisprudence. By so much as Jesus Christ had a redemptive work to accomplsh, — a work which included the destinies of all men, — it was a necessity that there should be a point of utter loneliness in His history. If even one man had remained by His side throughout the whole process, the universality of Jesus Christ’s work would have been impaired. It was necessary that human nature as such, apart from nationality or any other accident, should show itself; Jesus Christ must stand alone, not the victim of Jewish spite or a maladministration of the law (both points being, indeed, involved on the principle that the greater includes the less) but as “separate from sinners,” as having something in Him which fallen human nature, even under its best conditions, was morally unable to understand. If His condemnaticn to

Christ’s Absolute Loneliness. a

death was a simple miscarriage of justice, which a keener legal acumen might have obviated, then the crucifixion only illustrates the imperfection of human institutions; if His abandonment by His disciples was the natural result of momentary terror, which was followed by almost instant self-recovery, then their failure merely shows the fickleness of the most assured friendship; and this interpretation leaves the work of Jesus Christ among the sensational stories of ill-conceived ambition or misdirected fanaticism, without a hint of its redemptive purpose. As to the interpretation of the letter of the law, it would be idle to doubt the ability of the court. Two thieves had been tried, one of whom pronounced their condemnation just, and, viewing the case as a common malefactor might be supposed to view it, added, “this man hath done nothing amiss;” he could not enter into arguments as to the nature of blasphemy, he looked only at the overt act, and judged the case as one who knew nothing of the possible crime of doctrine. The case is significant. It shows the possibility of being right in detail and wrong in principle; and the consequent possibility of awarding justice to a thief and withholding it from God. As a mere question of legal interpretation, is it probable that judges who, by the witness of the condemned men themselves, had acted justly in two cases would act unjustly in the third? If it be suggested that “at the last came two false witnesses,” and that upon their evidence the authorities took action, it will be found that the latter position is questionable as a matter of fact, and that even if the false witnesses did make out a plea of blasphemy, the high priest grounded his action not upon their words, but upon Christ’s own. “The high priest answered and said unto Him, I adjure Thee by the living God, that Thou tell us whether Thou be the Christ, the Son of God. Jesus said unto him, Thou hast said: nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter shall ye

74 Lhe Priesthook of Christ.

see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. Then the high priest rent his clothes, saying, He hath spoken blasphemy; what further need have we of witnesses? behold now ye have heard His blasphemy.” There is no political element in the alleged offence; in the eye of the civil law “this man hath done nothing amiss;” yet by the interpreters of another law He was pronounced “guilty of death” (Matt. xxvi. 66). Could the most religious nation in the world, God’s own chosen nation, be in error in construing the law of blasphemy, and could God Himself be angry with His ancient people for zealously guarding the holiness of His own name? They were religious; they maintained the literal law; whatever they did was done in the name of God; how, then, judged by commonly acknowledged standards, are they to be considered as in error?

Keeping in view the assumption that Jesus Christ was the Saviour of the world, and consequently that His work related not to any one set of human conditions, but to human nature, apart from all accidents, how are all the facts of His trial and condemnation to be accounted for, except on the theory that these facts represent the extreme point of human apostasy?

The history of that apostasy is at hand, so that its main characteristics can easily be traced. Is it not true that in proportion as any man has represented a divine principle he has been rejected and persecuted by those for whose special advantage that principle was held? Instead of saying divine principle, say truth in any of its bearings, and let the answer be decided by history. Has not Abel always been an offence to Cain? Has not Joseph always been hated by his brethren? Has not Moses always been reproached by the multitude? Has not Elijah always been a troubler in Israel? The history of general civilisation would justify the spirit of the same inquiries.

To-day, the men who lead the world are able to recall memories of the misinterpretation and harsh usage to which they are exposed as the teachers of once unpopular doctrines; and the men who are now teaching unwelcome principles strengthen themselves by reviewing the triumphant progress of once rejected truth. Clearing the suggestion of all that is in the least degree fanatical, does it not distinctly point out, that, ever since the divine government was challenged in Eden, divine principles have only been re-adopted after angry protest, and often not until after crucifixion? Let any man, even in this enlightened and liberal age, request a hearing for a new interpretation of truth, or a suggestion that is at all opposed to established ideas, and the part of the high priest will be instantly repeated. The high priest did not object to the prophecy of Christ, he objected to the form in which the alleged fulfilment of that prophecy came before him; so the danger of the Church to-day is not that it objects to truth, but that it dogmatises as to the form which truth shall assume. Nor is this dogmatism to be inconsiderately denounced, for the world ought not to be easily dis- ’ possessed of theories and hopes which for ages have guided and stimulated its history. Tenacity is a characteristic of faith as well as of superstition; and to be “driven about with every wind of doctrine” is not the use but the abuse of spiritual liberty. Still, when every modification has been made, the suggestion is morally and historically true that Divine ideas have never been wrought into the life of society without combat and even crucifixion. Every true teacher has called out the same characteristics of human depravity, as may be proved by profane as well as sacred history. What is found, therefore, in the case of Jesus Christ is not new in principle, but inasmuch as Jesus Christ differed .from all the illustrious men of the past in being the Son of God and the Saviour of the world, the development of human wickedness reached, though unconsciously, the final point in charging God Himself (in the person of His Son) with blasphemy. In the fury of the multitude and the obstinate hostility of the leading classes, we see what depraved human nature really is; apart from Jesus Christ’s ministry, this development never could have taken place; the fall of man never could have been understood in all its terribleness; it never could have been made plain to men that they love darkness rather than light. What is this culmination of human depravity? It is a rejection of God because He has revealed Himself under conditions which collide with our own expectations. We have heard His words, but our prejudice rejected them; we have seen His works, and ascribed them to Beelzebub; we have thus convicted ourselves of that spiritual insusceptibility which, knowing the name, knows not the nature of God. True spiritual life would have known God under any concealment; His words would have carried their own witness to the spirit; the whole moral nature would have been stirred with responsive gladness. What is the fact as given in the narrative? It is that Jesus Christ came unto His own, and His own received Him not; He was in the world, and the world was made by Him, and the world knew Him not. There was nothing in the soul that fully answered Him when He spoke; when He displayed the dominion of His word over all natural forces, the soul did not detect the divine tone in His voice; He spoke to dead hearts that could not return so much as an echo. When Adam and Eve heard God’s voice in the garden they knew it and fled away; when the most favoured nation upon earth heard God’s voice through Jesus Christ they pronounced it the voice of a blasphemer! Why should we be startled at their boldly doing so? The inception and the consummation are identical in quality; there is, therefore, no discrepancy between Eden and Golgotha.

Surrounded as we are by what may be called a Christian atmosphere; our entire education being penetrated more or less by Christian elements; it is difficult to carry the mind back so as to follow the chronological development of Jesus Christ’s trial and condemnation, and by so much it is difficult to conceive that we should have done, in moral effect, exactly what the Jews did. Yet, having regard to the scope of Jesus Christ’s work, this is a fact; the work related not to the Jews only but to the whole world, and as it related to the whole world, there must be identity of nature as a condition of realising its advantages. Where there is identity of nature, it is more than presumable that there would have been identity of operation under the same class of circumstances. In the Jews, at the time of our Lord’s ministry, we see human nature in its highest religious condition; with the most wonderful traditions and with the most exciting hopes, they stood apart from all other nations, yet in them is seen how human nature while upholding religious forms can be utterly destitute of religious life. In them is seen the humilation of the whole world; in them was the moral nature of all men faithfully represented; we, as partakers of a common humanity, are, as were the Jews, euilty of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ — ‘ We hid as it were our faces from Him, He was despised, and we esteemed Him not.”

Apart from its bearing upon the mystery of the atonement, this view of the case, viz., that the condemnation of Jesus Christ was due neither to momentary malice nor to a miscarriage of justice caused by temporary excitement, much less to a sudden collapse of mere animal courage on the part of His most devoted friends, but to the natural enmity of the human heart, relieves one or two difficulties eee eee by which some readers have been much perplexed. For example, there is a difficulty connected with the recurring expression, “that the scriptures might be fulfilled.” On this form of words some have grounded the supposition that the Jews were by arbitrary decree, compelled to condemn and crucify Jesus Christ, that their own will was overridden, and that in the excitement of a passion which they did not enkindle, they were driven to imbrue their hands in innocent blood. The whole event has been ascribed to arbitrary predestination. Now, without obtruding upon the secret counsel of heaven, we have no need to accept a theory of foreordination, which instantly excites the resentment of our moral instincts. The scriptures are constructed upon a thorough understanding of human nature, and can be comprehended only so far as they are read in the light of this fact. The Bible is, in reality, a history of human nature as God views it, and as God trains it towards recovery. It is called God’s Book, and so it is; but it is not the less God’s exhibition of human nature in all its hmitations — God’s life of man as affected by sin on the one hand, and redeemed by divine loving-kindness on the other. When, therefore, it is said that such and such an act transpired “that the scriptures might be fulfilled,” it is not to be inferred that the scriptures override human will, but that the scriptures have anticipated the necessary development of sin, and indicated with literal accuracy the culminating-point of human depravity. God knows the end from the beginning, and it is instructive to remark how this fact has given a peculiar character to the inspired writings; books, in general, refer to events which have already happened, but the Bible makes copious and precise references to circumstances which have yet to take place — a feature which perfectly accords with the omniscience of the Spirit under whose dictation it was written, The historian goes after

Christ’s Absolute Loneliness. 79 the event, but the prophet goes before it; the writing of the latter, therefore, is either a bold speculation or an inspired pre-announcement of facts. When, however, it is said that the fact happened that the pre-announcement might be fulfilled, we are no more entitled to argue that men were compelled to do things against their will, in order that the prophets might not be contradicted, than we are entitled to argue that the Romans were compelled to invade Britain, in order that the history of England might be written. Correct history is not more certainly a faithful record of fact than inspired prophecy is a faithful anticipation of human development. When it was predicted that Jesus Christ would be despised and rejected of men, it was not determined that men should be brutalised by an irresistible power; it was simply declared that the natural and necessary result of sin is the rejection of the living God — in other words, that “sin when it is finished bringeth forth death.”

In the light of this suggestion there need not be any difficulty in the interpretation of passages which appear to ascribe the death of Jesus Christ to irresistible power brought to bear upon the human will. For example, there is this passage- — “Him being delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have taken, and by wicked hands have crucified and siain” (Acts 11.23). Here, the two events are put in their right relation; the foreknowledge and determination point to the love of God in giving His Son, and the wickedness is set down to the action of a depraved but free will. Then we read, — “The Son of Man goeth, as it was determined, but woe unto that man by whom He is betrayed” (Luke xxl. 22); and again — ‘*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” (John xix. 11). Here, too, the same relation of events is asserted; there is a divine operation, there is also a human operation; God gives, man rejects; God sets His Son in a redemptive relation to men, and that very act develops the full force of depravity, and thus shows men what, notwithstanding accidental appearances to the contrary, they really are. In His address to Pilate, Jesus Christ distinctly points out the divine share of the marvellous transaction; He shows that He is not to be classed with common criminals; that His presence at the bar is part of a great purpose which God is working out; that human strength would have had no power, and, indeed, no opportunity, to lay wicked hands upon Him had He not been given (delivered) by God expressly for the sins of the world. By grouping such passages, and confining attention to a merely human view of the subject, it has been found easy to set up some such difficulty as this: Jesus Christ came for the express purpose of saving the world; in order to save the world He must die for it; yet the very men who put Him to death are held up to the execration of the universe as murderers, whereas, but for them, the crucifixion could not have taken place, and so the atonement could not have been made. The difficulty is not in the facts, but in their misconstruction. The objection may be accepted even in the broad and repulsive form just given, and yet there is nothing in it to offend either justice or benevolence. Jesus Christ came to give Himself a ransom for the world; that is also admitted, — but why those wicked men should be considered sinners above all others, when they simply carried human (not merely Jewish) depravity to its extreme point, is the ‘difficulty. There is, however, a consideration omitted which alters the moral bearing of the subject. It is forgotten that the men who crucified Jesus Christ did not do so in the belief that they were taking a painful but necessary part in the process of redemption; what they did was done as an act of vengeance, in punishment of what they considered blasphemy; they would not listen to doctrine; they resisted every appeal to their own scriptures; they stopped their ears and closed their eyes, when any evidence of the Messiahship was offered; and they treated the whole case as not at all involving their own relation to God and to sin; and in vehement defiance of possible error on their own part, cried, “His blood be upon us and upon our children.” That was their part in the transaction; their case must be judged upon the eround on which they themselves put it; and it is impossible if we judge them with their own judgment to escape the conclusion that they were guilty of the foulest sin, We cannot give them the advantage of that side of the transaction, which they obstinately ignored. They took their stand upon a law which they would not examine; they professed to

uphold scriptures to which they would not refer; and, therefore, through superstition which they mistook for reverence, through ignorance which they paraded as knowledge, and through personal malice which they regarded as religious zeal, they brought themselves into this great condemnation. History is constantly showing how even the worst men may be unconsciously, or even against their will, working out the greatest purposes; yet, if they are to be judged at all, they must be judged by that side of their work which they themselves have avowed. It is universally allowed that motives are the best explanation of actions, and that men should be judged according to their motives, and not according to remote or unexpected advantages which they never contemplated, and in which they never believed. Take the case of Abraham in illustration of the main bearing of this doctrine. Viewed in a merely earthly light, Abraham was guilty of murder; he had bound his son, laid him upon the altar. and lifted his arm to strike the fatal blow: F

Were such a thing to occur to-day, Abraham would be arrested for murder, and universal justice would demand his condemnation. Now view the case in another light: Abraham’s faith in God was being tested; after sore agony of heart, Abraham prepares himself to give effect to the divine will; religious devotion rises above natural affection; and the deed is about to be done in obedience to the heavenly call. What then? The aspect of the case is entirely changed. What would have been murder, has become the highest triumph of faith; and as the deed was about to take place, not by the murderous will of man but through supreme love of God, Abraham receives all the honour which God puts upon His children. Now, as well may the filicide claim to rank with Abraham, as may the Jews who crucified Jesus Christ claim to have done a religious deed. That we, under similar circumstances, would have done virtually as the Jews did, need not be denied; and if we had done so, we should have deserved the same severity of condemnation.

Happily, a most gracious truth remains to be set side by side with this condemnation. Jesus Christ prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke xxiii. 34); and when He gave the disciples their commission, He added, “beginning at Jerusalem” (Luke xxiv. 47). It follows, then, that the condemnation was not an exclusion from the blessings of redemption; the murderers were among the very first to whom those blessings were offered; and He who condemned their wickedness also prayed that they might be forgiven. He said in His prayer- — ‘“they know not what they do;” this is the last stage of human depravity, beyond this there is no other depth in the abyss of sin. Madness is the climax of depravity. It will be remarked, then, that just at the point where human depravity ends in madness, divine love discloses most impressively its method of saving the world. The conjunction of the two revelations is very solemn. On the one hand, depravity reaching the point of murder; on the other, divine love accepting murder, with all its horrible associations, as the means of working out a great salvation. We are not aware that it was necessary to the idea of the atonement (in any theory of it), that Jesus Christ’s death should be attended by all the revolting brutality which was displayed by the multitude; such brutality showed how deeply human nature had been degraded, but so far as the precise idea of atonement is concerned it does not appear that the mocking, buffeting, and smiting, were at all necessary. They had a use, it is true, even in relation to Jesus Christ Himself; they tested the reality of His human love, and the depth of His self-oblivion, and added a deeper pathos to the expression “He became obedient unto death” by enlarging it into “even the death of the cross;” — the idea of atonement is exhausted at the word “death,” but the boundlessness of love encloses the term “cross.” We are not aware that there is anything irreverent in the inquiry, How the offering of Jesus Christ would have been made apart from the brutality of the multitude? Nothing must be assumed which would impair the perfect voluntariness of the offering. The teaching of Jesus Christ is very explicit upon this point: “Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down and I have power to take it again” (John x. 17,18). The multitude crucified Him, yet He Jaid down His own life; the tormentors nailed Him to the cross and pierced His side, yet no man took His life from Him; these appear to be mutually destructive assertions, yet they are in thorough accord with the duality of Jesus Christ’s nature. The point more especially to be considered is, whether Jesus Christ could not have made atonement for the sins of the world without undergoing the shameful process to which Jewish brutality condemned Him? The question is important as discriminating between the incidental and essential; between the crucifixion as showing the penal side of human law, and the “lifting up” which shows the fulfilment of God’s purpose to redeem the world. Crucifixion simply as such has, of course, no redemptive meaning; so far as mere crucifixion 1s concerned, the two thieves suffered in common with Jesus Christ, so that unless we discover something more than crucifixion in the death of the latter, His cross will be but a common fact in penal history.

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