And a great multitude of the people, and of women who wailed and lamented him, followed him.
A crowd walked the road to the cross with Jesus, and among them were women weeping out loud. Their tears raise two questions. What was that sorrow worth, and why did He turn it away from Himself?
One writer pictures who was in that march, and where the sympathy went.
The procession, as we might call it, consisted of the Lord, bearing His cross, with Simon the Cyrenian, forced to bear the lighter end of it behind Him. Two others, criminals, doubtless each bearing his own cross too, formed part of the group, with the attendant soldiers completing it. But far outnumbering these who figured in the procession was a great multitude of the people, and among them many women. These last mourned and lamented Him, all their sympathy, it seems, being given to Him and none to the others who were about to suffer for their crimes, for everyone knew He was innocent. As they moved along the wailing might have been heard some distance away.
Several commentators treat this weeping as a warning, not a compliment.
It is not that man lacks feeling: but feeling without faith comes to nothing, no less than mind, or authority, or position, were it the highest in the religious world. The affections of nature may be sweet, but can never be trusted to stand firm for Christ, however moved for a season… Jesus knew what was in man, did not despise the feelings of the women, but trusted Himself to none.
Another writer draws the line between the heart and the conscience.
The affections are in the heart, and conscience is my responsibility for right and wrong. You may have natural feelings moved like the women of Jerusalem beating their breasts because someone was going to be put to death; but what detects the work of God is when these two go together… Where the light comes and deals with the conscience, the love attracts the heart, and both are moved.
Commentators differ over these women. One thinks some in that crowd owed their health to Him.
Some who wept there might be those who had felt His healing power. Among them, perhaps, were people once deaf, dumb, blind; the woman healed of the discharge of blood; the woman made straight after Satan had bent her over for eighteen years; the woman who washed His feet with tears and wiped them with the hair of her head, whose sins were forgiven, "for she loved much." These were at least in tears, but powerless to prevent the severe judgment for such a crime — powerless, because it was "their hour, and the power of darkness."
Another writer will not lump these women in with the women of Galilee.
The women of Galilee were clearly "elect according to the foreknowledge of God." But what do you say of the daughters of Jerusalem? They were not among the crucifiers. They represent, I think, the soul of the remnant later on, in the first moment of awakening.
The heart of the scene is not the crowd but the One walking through it. He was minutes from death, yet He stopped to think of others.
He did not resent their sympathy, nor did He undervalue the lamentation of these daughters of Jerusalem; but, knowing the future of that unhappy city and its coming desolation, He could contrast His own sufferings with those which would soon fall on its children… calm and self-possessed, and mindful, as ever and always, of others rather than of Himself, He could pause on that terrible road, turn round, and tell these troubled mourners to weep not for Him, but for themselves. If they lamented for Him, He lamented for them. They could see what was happening to Him; He could foresee what would happen to them.
One writer says where their tears should have gone.
There was much human feeling in this, though not faith or real love. Why not lament for themselves? For in truth days of sorrow were coming… Jesus was the green tree; and if Jesus was treated so, what would their fate be, pictured fully by that dry tree, which was Israel? Israel certainly ought to have been the green tree of promise; but it was only a dry tree waiting for judgment.
- Crowd. A great multitude followed Him to the cross. The women's sympathy went to Him alone, because everyone knew He was innocent.
- Feeling. Emotion stirred by the sight of suffering is real but unreliable — "feeling without faith comes to nothing," and He "trusted Himself to none."
- Test. A work of God shows when heart and conscience move together: the light exposes guilt while the love draws you in.
- Love. Minutes from the cross, He turned round to warn them; they could see His suffering, He could foresee theirs.
- Warning. Their tears pointed the wrong way. If the green tree suffered like this, judgment was certain for the dry.
And Jesus turning round to them said, Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep over me, but weep over yourselves and over your children;
A crowd lined the road as Jesus walked out to die, and women in it wailed aloud for Him. He turns and refuses their tears — not out of scorn, but because He sees what is coming to them.
Not everyone in that crowd was an enemy. One writer separates these mourners from the women of Galilee, and says who they picture.
The daughters of Jerusalem are not the women of Galilee. How do we tell them apart? Scripture keeps them apart. It is another example of the great moral variety in Scripture... They were not among the crucifiers. They represent, I think, the soul of the remnant by-and-by, in the first moment of awakening.
Their grief was real. It was also powerless, because there was no faith in it.
It is not that man lacks feeling. But feeling without faith comes to nothing. So does mind, or authority, or position — even the highest position in the religious world. Natural affection may be sweet, but you can never trust it to stand firm for Christ, however stirred it is for a time... Jesus knew what was in man, did not despise the feelings of the women, but trusted Himself to none. Tenderly He warns them of what man does not believe until it comes.
Even here, He is thinking about others and not Himself. One writer sets the two lines of sight side by side.
He did not resent their sympathy. He did not think little of the grief of these daughters of Jerusalem. But He knew the future of that unhappy city and the ruin coming to it. So He could set His own sufferings beside the sufferings that would soon fall on its children... He stayed calm and self-possessed. As always, He thought of others rather than of Himself. So He could stop on that terrible road, turn round, and tell these troubled mourners to weep not for Him, but for themselves. If they lamented for Him, He lamented for them. They could see what was happening to Him; He could foresee what would happen to them.
If tears are the wrong response to the cross, what is the right one?
Let sinners know that His cross does not seek the compassion of men, but their faith. It does not ask them to feel that hour with human kindness. It asks them to be blessed by that hour, believing in their hearts and coming to full peace of conscience. It asks them not to pity the cross, but to lean on it.
The reason for the redirected tears comes in the verses that follow, in a picture of two trees.
The "green tree" in this scripture is Christ Himself, and the "dry" is the Jewish nation... That is, look at what was done to Him who was like a green tree: wicked malice, hypocrisy, unjust judgment, and a degrading death. If that fell on Him, what would be done to the people? They were like a dry tree, morally dead before God, without fruit or even leaves. And they were now committing their crowning sin in rejecting their Messiah. For such a state, symbolised by a dry tree, there remained nothing but the axe and the fire.
Commentators differ on how far ahead the warning reaches. Some apply it to the Roman siege of the city:
If He, the green tree, suffered like this at the hands of both Jew and Gentile, what would happen to Israel, the dry and sapless stock? What fate awaited it when the Roman power let loose its full fury on it?
Others read the same words as stretching to the end:
The dry tree is the state of Israel in the time of the end. It is desolate and withered after long years of determined refusal of the grace of God in Christ.
A day is coming when the frightened world will pray for shelter. What is that prayer really after, and where can anyone find shelter now?
They are in sore need, but what is it they want? It is a place of refuge, of security, a shelter... The world panics and turns to prayer, but it is too late. You can find shelter from that wrath now in the arms of Jesus. Not in the mountains and the hills, but in Jesus — Jesus who died on Calvary.
- Turning — On the way to His own death He stops and thinks of others. They could see what was happening to Him; He could see what was coming to them.
- Tears — Feeling for Christ can be real and still come to nothing. Affection that never turns into faith cannot stand.
- Trees — He is the green tree, full of life; Israel is the dry tree. What men did to the green tree measures the judgment due on the dry.
- Terror — The cry to the mountains is the world praying for shelter when shelter is gone.
- Trust — The cross does not ask for your pity; it asks you to lean on it, and it offers shelter now.
for behold, days are coming in which they will say, Blessed [are] the barren, and wombs that have not borne, and breasts that have not given suck.
On the road to the cross, a crowd of women wail behind Jesus, and He stops to speak — not about His own agony, but about theirs. He points to days so terrible that women will call childlessness a blessing — but which days, and why turn their tears away from Himself?
Their weeping was real, but it never reached their consciences. One writer names what these mourners still lacked.
They wept, but their consciences were untouched. They did not understand the ruin that was waiting for them. The Lord, in calm and holy concern for them, and at least no stranger to their position as daughters of Jerusalem, says to them: "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for Me, but weep for yourselves and for your children."
Verse 29 is a prediction, and a prediction is the easiest thing to push aside. One writer explains why, and what Israel lost by doing it.
Jesus knew what was in man. He did not look down on the feelings of the women, but He trusted Himself to no one. He warns them gently of what people do not believe until it arrives. Man counts it wisdom to treat the future as uncertain, even when God has spoken it, because the future is uncertain to man. Had they believed the Lord and their own prophets, they would not have refused Him. Had they received Him, days of heaven would have dawned on the earth, and on Israel above all.
Why would a woman with no children be called blessed? One writer explains the horror behind those words, and whose hands would cause it.
He answers the women's weeping with weeping of His own. They have more reason to weep for themselves and their children than for Him. The day of their sorrow was close, and in it the blessing would belong to those who had no children... He is not speaking here of divine wrath, though divine wrath might indeed give them up to it. He is speaking of what they would inflict on one another. The sufferings of those shut up in that besieged city are matters of common history.
How far forward do these days stretch? One writer takes them to cover both the Roman attack on Jerusalem and a trouble still ahead for that nation.
He was showing that after His death the Romans would destroy Jerusalem (21:23), and that more trouble will still fall on that nation and that city (Matt. 24:15-21). Messiah, the Shepherd of Israel, was cut off. So the Jews have felt, and will yet feel, the bitterness of His absence in their hours of trial — and He alone can shield them.
Another writer looks past the siege to a day of reckoning, because God has not let the murder of His Son slip from His mind.
There is a solemn day of retribution coming. Do not think that God has forgotten the murder of His Son. Do you suppose God forgets that His Son was here in this world, and that the world threw Him out?
Jesus said these words minutes before His own crucifixion. One writer weighs where He was standing when He said them.
He stood within a few yards of the place of execution and of an agonizing death. He knew everything that lay ahead of Him, just as He felt every effect of the mockery, insult, cruelty and flogging He had already been through. Yet He was calm and self-possessed, and mindful, as always, of others and not of Himself. He could stop on that terrible road, turn round, and tell these troubled mourners to weep for themselves and not for Him. If they mourned for Him, He mourned for them. They could see what was happening to Him. He could see ahead to what would happen to them.
There is no threat in His tone. The same writer points to what He said moments later on the cross.
His words were no threat, no empty demand for the punishment men deserved. They were the calm statement of One who knew every event beforehand. He was Man, and at the same time God. In the short space of a few minutes' relief, at the first shock of crucifixion, He could say: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Not a trace of retaliation or revenge!
- Misplaced tears. The women wept for Jesus with hearts moved but consciences untouched. He turned their grief toward the ruin they had not seen coming.
- Foreseen days. He answers their weeping with weeping of His own. The sorrow ahead is so deep that having no child would count as a blessing.
- Human hands. Most of the horror is what people would do to each other inside the besieged city, though God's wrath could give them up to it.
- Long reach. The days reach to the Roman destruction of Jerusalem, to troubles still ahead for that nation, and to a day of reckoning for the murder of God's Son.
- Unforgetting love. He stood steps from His own execution, yet He spent His breath on their future. Minutes later He asked the Father to forgive His killers.
Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall upon us; and to the hills, Cover us
On the road to His crucifixion, Jesus turns to the women weeping behind Him and tells them to save their tears for themselves. Two questions follow: what disaster did He see coming, and why would anyone rather be buried under a hill than face it?
He was about to be crucified, yet the sorrow He speaks about is not His own. One writer contrasts what the mourners saw with what He saw.
He did not resent their sympathy, or think little of the weeping of these daughters of Jerusalem. But He knew the future of that unhappy city and the ruin coming on it. So He could contrast His own sufferings with those that would soon fall on its children. These are His only recorded words on that short journey. He stood within a few yards of the place of execution and of an agonising death. He knew all that lay before Him... Yet He stayed calm and composed, and thought, as always, of others before Himself. So He could pause on that awful road, turn round, and tell these troubled mourners not to weep for Him, but for themselves. If they lamented for Him, He lamented for them. They could see what was happening to Him; He could foresee what would happen to them.
The cry to the mountains is a prayer. One writer sets it beside three other prayers in this same chapter.
There are four prayers spoken of in this chapter. The prayer of hatred, "Crucify him" (v. 21); the prayer of fear, "Mountains, fall on us" (v. 30); the prayer of love, "Father, forgive them" (v. 34); and the prayer of faith, "Lord, remember me" (v. 42). The prayer of hatred has been answered. By and by there will come the prayer of fear, "Mountains, fall on us: hills, cover us" (see Rev. 6:15-17). Anything to keep men out of the sight of God; anything under the sun to keep them out of the reach of God, and from the wrath of the Lamb.
The same writer asks what those praying want, and where they could find it today.
They are in sore need, but what is it they want? It is a place of refuge, of security, a shelter. "The great day of His wrath has come, and who can stand?" (Rev. 6:15-17.) The world is frightened and turns to prayer, but it is too late. Oh, beloved one, you can find a shelter from that wrath now in the bosom of Jesus; not in the mountains and the hills, but in Jesus — Jesus who died on Calvary.
The next verse gives the reason behind the warning. It turns on two trees.
The "green tree" in this scripture is Christ Himself, and the "dry" is the Jewish nation... That is, if men did such things to Him — wicked malice, hypocrisy, unrighteous judgment, and a degrading death — when He was like a green tree (compare Psalm 1:3; Jeremiah 17:7-8), what would be done to the people? They were like a dry tree, morally dead before God, without fruit or even leaves, and they were now committing their crowning sin in rejecting their Messiah. For such a state, pictured by a dry tree, there remained nothing but the axe and the fire. (Compare Matthew 3:10.)
The women felt real sorrow. One writer says feeling is not the same as faith.
It is not that man lacks feeling: but feeling without faith comes to nothing. So do mind, authority, and position, even the highest in the religious world. The feelings of nature may be sweet, but you can never trust them to stand firm for Christ, however moved for a season... Jesus knew what was in man, did not despise the feelings of the women, but entrusted Himself to none. He warns them gently of what man does not believe until it comes. It is part of man's wisdom to treat God's word about the future as uncertain, because the future is uncertain to man.
One writer points to two fulfilments: one in history, one still ahead.
Those days did come. I admit that the Lord's prophecy was only partly fulfilled, and that it will have a fuller fulfilment later. But if you want to read a dark and bloody page of history, sit down and read the account of the sack of the city of Jerusalem by the Romans under Titus. You will look on horrors that will strike to the very bottom of your soul. Only one thing will exceed them: that time of terrible tribulation which is still to come.
- Refuge — one need runs through this scene: shelter. The cry to the mountains is a search for cover from God's face.
- Love — steps from the cross, Jesus grieves over their ruin, not His own death. They saw His suffering; He saw theirs.
- Reason — if men treated the green tree like this, the dry tree has nothing left but the axe and the fire.
- Rehearsal — the sack of Jerusalem under Titus fulfilled the words in part. The fuller fulfilment is still ahead.
- Right now — the prayer of fear comes too late. Jesus, who died at Calvary, offers today the shelter men will one day beg the hills to give.
for if these things are done in the green tree, what shall take place in the dry?
On the way to the cross, a crowd of women followed Jesus in tears. He turned and told them their grief was aimed at the wrong person. His closing question about green wood and dry wood is a warning wrapped in a picture. It raises two questions at once: who is the green tree, and who is the dry?
The women's tears were real, but the Lord did not treat them as faith. One writer draws the line sharply between emotion stirred by a scene and trust that holds:
It is not that man lacks feeling. But feeling without faith comes to nothing — and it is the same with mind, or authority, or position, even the highest in the religious world. Natural affection may be sweet, but it can never be trusted to stand firm for Christ, however moved it is for a time… Jesus knew what was in man. He did not despise the feelings of the women, but He trusted Himself to no one. He warns them tenderly of what man does not believe until it comes.
Another writer shows how far pity on its own falls short:
One may be moved by the comparison, as if one were superior to Christ, and still fall under the judgment that follows His rejection and death… Judgment was coming not only on Pilate and Herod, and not only on the chief priests. It was coming on the women who wept for Him too. They did not see their own state, and that state was under condemnation. Natural conscience, natural religion, and natural feelings will not do. Nothing less than the glory of God in Jesus will do.
Green wood is living wood — full of sap and fruit. That is the picture the Lord uses of Himself:
Who was the green tree? Why, Christ, of course. Sap, life, green growth, and fruit — all were seen in Him. God looked down from above and saw that one fruitful green tree. Then He looked everywhere else. What did He see? Dry trees!… A dry tree is lifeless. Christ was the green tree, always showing the freshness and fruit that suit God.
The contrast is with the nation that should have borne fruit and did not. One writer spells out what the dry tree pictures, and what is left for it:
Wicked malice, hypocrisy, unrighteous judgment, a degrading death — all this came on Him who was like a green tree (compare Psalm 1:3; Jeremiah 17:7-8). If such things were done to Him, what would be done to the people? They were like a dry tree: morally dead before God, without fruit or even leaves, and now committing their crowning sin by rejecting their Messiah. For such a state, symbolized by a dry tree, there remained nothing but the axe and the fire. (Compare Matthew 3:10.)
Israel should have been that living tree. One writer sums up the tragedy: Israel "ought to have been the green tree of promise; but it was only a dry tree waiting for judgment" (William Kelly).
One writer weighs the fruitful tree against the fruitless, and asks where the sinner will then stand:
He is the living and true vine, and He truly bore fruit to God. If men treated Him like this, what must be the lot of the fruitless and useless? Such branches were they. Where will the ungodly and the sinner appear? Man rejects the green tree, and God rejects the dry.
Commentators differ on how far to press this. Some keep it on the nation and its judgment; others apply it to everyone outside Christ.
One writer applies the question to each reader personally:
Our sins, if unforgiven, must take us into the very place where Christ's love for us led Him. The holy, spotless Lamb of God became the substitute of sinners. Can the unforgiven sinner himself fare better under the awful judgment of sin than He did? He was in the "far off" place for us, when He uttered that mournful and moving cry, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
The verse ends without an answer. One writer notes the silence: "There was no answer that day; it will have to come" (W. T. P. Wolston). But the cross itself supplies a way out.
Christ was the green tree in all His dependence on God, in all His beauty and perfection. He was a green tree going to judgment. He was to be cut down while still in beauty and freshness… But, thanks be to God, because the green tree suffered, many a dry one will escape.
- Green. The green tree is Christ — sap, life, and fruit, the one growth on earth that satisfied God.
- Dry. The dry tree is what has no life in it: a nation with neither fruit nor leaves, now rejecting its own Messiah.
- Logic. Man rejected the green tree; God rejects the dry. If judgment fell where there was no sin, it will not miss where there is.
- Tears. Feeling for a suffering Christ is not faith. The women wept for Him while judgment was already coming on them.
- Escape. The green tree was cut down so the dry could be spared — that is why He asked the question before the judgment fell, not after.