Matthew 26:36–75

Perhaps nowhere in the whole sad record of our Lord's suffering do we find more tender displays of His devotion to His Father than in Gethsemane. It has a character all its own. It is different from the "horror of great darkness" of the cross, which comes after it, and it is clearly marked off from what had gone before. It stands out as the "oil press," which is what its name means. There a love and obedience that nothing could turn aside gives out its sweet ointment, with a fragrance all its own — a sweet perfume and holy anointing oil fit to adorn His head alone.

The name Gethsemane is formed from the Hebrew words meaning "a winepress" and "oil." But it gives no real ground to say that here in a special way those dark words were fulfilled, "I have trodden the winepress alone." For the treading of the winepress is when the Lord comes to judge, not to suffer. These prophecies describe not agony but vengeance.

But He is going forward with full knowledge of everything, on His own part. Note what we are told here: Judas knew the place as one the Lord often went to with His disciples. He is not avoiding but now seeking the "oil-press" of sorrow. Eternal joy is to be the sure result.

He takes all the disciples with Him to Gethsemane. Then He tells them to stay there while He goes on further and prays. He takes Peter, James, and John, who had also been with Him on the mount of transfiguration... There everything that lay ahead of the blessed One came upon His spirit. He began to be sorrowful and very heavy. He felt as man what He had to undergo. It was not mere pain or suffering: the power of death weighed upon His spirit. It weighed upon it as man, yet with a weight no man could fathom.

Gethsemane was at the bottom of the Mount of Olives. Here indeed we are on holy ground! ... He was coming to that time, marked out from all eternity, when God would take up sin and judge it. We see what was before His soul. Only on the cross were sins laid upon Him, and there He was made sin who knew no sin. But in spirit He went through it here with His Father... He said, "Remain here, and watch with me." He never said, "Pray for Me." We must weigh the silences of Scripture. But He values their sympathy.

But now it was different, and He says to them: "Sit here, while I go over there and pray." Who can tell what that "over there" meant to Him? He was about to enter the great conflict, and He "looked for comforters." Peter and the sons of Zebedee entered more fully into His thoughts than the other disciples, so He takes them with Him.

He says to the disciples, "Pray that you may not enter into temptation." And again, "Sit here, while I go over there and pray." When He comes back He finds them sleeping. When they should have been praying, they were sleeping. How much do I pray? How much do you pray? Prayer is the secret of the soul's success... They see His sorrow, and yet they can sleep.

Our only safe place is watching and prayer — yes, prayer before the assault — prayer that may amount to agony; for that is how Jesus prayed!

The word ademonein is a deeply moving word. On one likely derivation it means the homeless feeling of someone away from his own country and friends... In the Gospels this word carries a unique intensity of meaning: "Look and see if there is any sorrow like My sorrow."

He began to be sorrowful and troubled. He felt as a man what He had to go through. It was not mere pain or suffering. The power of death weighed on His spirit — weighed on it as man, yet with a weight no man could fathom. Yet with what calm simplicity He tells it out!

Think what lay before Him. All that God or man could put into the cup of woe, He was about to drink, and He foresaw it... How He felt everything — the betrayal of Judas — the coming denial of Peter — the forsaking of all the disciples... the bearing of sin — the forsaking of God — wrath, judgment, and death as the end of His pathway here.

In Gethsemane, He was anticipating the cross; at Calvary, He was actually enduring it. In Gethsemane, "there appeared an angel to him from heaven strengthening him"; at Calvary, He was forsaken of all. There was no angelic ministry there. In Gethsemane He addresses God as "Father," and so enjoys the full communion of that relationship. But at Calvary He cries, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

From these verses it is clear that something lay ahead which the blessed Lord had never met before. A "cup" was being filled for Him which He had not yet drunk. If He had been a sin-bearer all His life, why this intense agony at the thought of coming into contact with sin and enduring the wrath of God because of sin?

He goes apart to pray, but He takes three of His disciples with Him. In this solemn moment they are to watch with Him. They were the same three who were with Him at the transfiguration. They were to see His glory in the kingdom, and His sufferings... Jesus was not yet drinking the cup, but it was before His eyes.

Beyond all others He underwent the pressure of death on His soul beforehand, as the power of Satan — feeling it perfectly, and all the more deeply because He took it from His Father's hand and not from the enemy's... When the cross came, there was no such call to disciples to watch with Him. He was alone — utterly alone, alone by the very nature of the case — for us, that is, for our sins, with no one, human or angelic, anywhere near Him.

These three He had taken with Him to the mount of transfiguration, and they went to sleep in the presence of His glory. Now He takes them into the garden, and they go to sleep in the presence of His sorrow. Such is man. Such is human nature. Such are you and I. We can be alike indifferent to the glory and the sorrow of Christ.

It speaks of His body, Matthew 26:12; Luke 23:52; John 20:12; Hebrews 10:5. It speaks of His soul, Matthew 26:38; Mark 14:34; John 12:27; Acts 2:27, 31... All these speak of Him as Man — the Son having become Man. Scripture says the same of us: in the make-up of our manhood we have spirit, soul and body (1 Thessalonians 5:23). It uses the same words of Him as it uses of us.

He takes Peter, James and John, who had also been with Him on the mountain where His glory appeared; and there everything that lay before the blessed One came upon His spirit. He began to be sorrowful and deeply distressed. He felt as man what He had to go through. It was not mere pain or suffering: the power of death weighed on His spirit. It weighed on Him as man, yet with a weight no man could measure. Yet He says it with such calm simplicity! We ought to know it, though it may be beyond our knowledge... His need was there, and He told it to hearts that should have felt it and kept earnest watch, taken up with Him.

What was the difference between Christ in Gethsemane and Christ at Calvary, if He were a sin-bearer all His life? There was a real difference! And it is because He was not a sin-bearer all His life... In Gethsemane, He was anticipating the cross! at Calvary, He was actually enduring it. In Gethsemane, "there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him"; at Calvary, everyone forsook Him. No angel came to strengthen Him there. In Gethsemane He calls God "Father," and so enjoys the full communion of that relationship; but at Calvary, He cries, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

The garden shows us not holy calm in the full knowledge of all that awaited Him and His disciples, but anguish to the very limit, and death felt in all its horror as before God... More than anyone else, He went through the pressure of death on His soul before it came — death as the power of Satan. He felt it perfectly, and He felt it more deeply because He took it from His Father's hand and not from the enemy's. When the cross came, there was no such call to disciples to watch with Him. He was alone — utterly alone, alone in the very nature of it, and alone for us, that is, for our sins — with no one, human or angel, near Him in any way at all.

He is God over all, yet still and thoroughly a man. Yet, as another has said, He never asked them to pray for Him; but says, "Remain here, and watch with me."... When He asked His disciples to watch with Him, He knew the world was against Him. He turned to those He had been with most, that they should be with Him. But He received nothing... They were asleep, deceived; asleep in the presence of the glory of the kingdom on the mount, asleep in the garden!

A stone's throw away are the sleeping disciples. But, beloved reader, let us not sleep as others do. Let us watch with Him one hour even now. Let the privacy of our own hearts be the Gethsemane of our souls... There let us look with holy horror at the dreadful cup, full of our sins and God's wrath, which He would drain so soon on Calvary's cross.

He looked into the cup and measured its contents. It was all God's judgment against sin. If He drank it, God must forsake Him and cast Him off on the cross. It was not only the physical suffering and sorrow that man could give Him when they nailed Him to the tree. It was the unavoidable sense that God and He must part company. So as He looked at that cup, He said, "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done." He knew that if He did not drink that cup of judgment upon the cross, you and I would have to drink it in eternity.

The Lord held the place of the perfect Son of Man. He could not forget what rested on His bearing that name — even the question of guilt. But how was it possible, if He were perfect, for Him to think it an unimportant thing for God to hide His face from Him? He would not have been perfect if He had not shrunk from this one thing alone. He did not shrink from the temptation in the wilderness; God led Him into it. But there was in this what was anguish to His soul in the very measure in which He was perfect.

If God could ever have set aside the smallest part of His righteousness, He would have done it then, when His own beloved Son asked Him. But that was impossible. It would be easier to abandon the law of gravity than for God to move a hair's breadth from His righteousness.

He knew well that He would face the agony of being forsaken by God as He bore the judgment of the cross. So He pleads with His Father, "if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will." As a true Man He had a will of His own, a will that was in every respect perfectly right. It was right that He should desire to avoid the dreadful suffering of the cross. Yet He asks for the Father's will, not His own. How this adds to the blessedness of His great sacrifice!

Man and Satan brought about His death, but He knew how to separate what was theirs from the cup He took out of the Father's hand — the cup filled with the judgment of God. Because He was perfect He shrank from that cup, and in subjection He drank it. His request that the cup might pass from Him was perfection. At the cross what marks Him is a perfect calmness under judgment that no human heart can understand. It is an unbroken calmness in a darkness no human eye could see through. There is no agonising there, no weeping. All is fullest submission and perfect subjection, bowing beneath the awful load, bearing it in His own body on the tree.

He accepted the cup of wrath and judgment and emptied it on the cross, so that for us not a drop of judgment remained. Here the Lord was in total solitude: He alone could drink that cup. But in dependence and obedience He is our perfect example in Gethsemane. He faced a test beyond words, and He overcame it through His dependence and obedience. The disciples stand in sharp contrast: they slept in the garden, and all of them failed badly.

When He comes to the disciples He finds them sleeping. Think of it! The Master praying, and the servants sleeping. The Master is in agony before God. He is showing perfect human dependence, in that moment of sorrow beyond compare, while the servant sleeps. Such is human nature. Peter slept in the presence of the Lord's glory, on the Mount of Transfiguration. Now he is sleeping in the presence of His sorrow.

Later, at the cross, the disciples could have no part at all in the sufferings of the Lord Jesus. But here He expects some fellowship from them in watching with Him — and He finds them sleeping. When the need is most urgent, our hearts can still be dull and unfeeling. We are not concerned to enter into the Lord's thoughts. Is one hour too long to spend in sympathy with His sorrow?

He addressed His rebuke, gentle beyond words, to Peter, the one who boasted the loudest. "Watch and pray (for themselves, not for Him) that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." This happened three times. Three times the Saviour went apart and prayed, and three times He came back and found the disciples asleep. In the presence of such a fact, who among us dare boast of anything? How feeble is the devotion of even the truest-hearted believer!

With what touching grace He points out the strange inconsistency: "Peter, could you not watch with Me one hour?" Where was the strength that was going through everything just now? Yet with what grace He warns, with what grace He excuses: "Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."

Now, having been through this agony, He comes back to His disciples and speaks to them in the gentlest way. What gentleness of grace! Now He is thinking only of them. Where is the cup? He had gone through it all with the Father, and therefore His heart is ready in service. Suppose we, in our small measure, carried all our trials and little troubles to God, and went through the whole of it with Him. Then our hearts would be free and happy to turn round and care for others.

Peter fails, not from self-will, not from willing to sin, but through the weakness of the flesh. In Christ there was no possible moral weakness, because He always walked in the place of weakness in communion with His Father. Peter fails, though only the shadow of temptation comes to him. All Peter's fall began by a lack of dependence, and by neglecting prayer. Our watching must lead us to pray. It is not enough to be ready to pray when temptation comes. We must be walking with God, and so meet temptation in the power of communion and prayer already there. Suppose a believer has no continual prayer, and no constant sense of his own complete weakness. Then the more he loves Christ, and the more he wants to serve Him, the more surely that very good-will will lead him into the place where he dishonours Christ!

He wants your worship, your fellowship in His sufferings. "Could you not watch with Me one hour?" the Lord said to Peter in Gethsemane. Shall we grow tired of being together to think of Him? There is silence, and a chance for deep thought on the holy theme of the Lord's Supper. Shall we then grow restless, and wish someone would speak, or sing, or pray?

Watching may mean looking for the Lord's return, but it may have other meanings. When our Lord said to sleeping Peter, "Watch and pray," He was not calling Peter to watch for His coming from heaven. No, He called him to be vigilant at that moment of agonized wrestling in prayer.

He combined dependence on God, in whom alone he knew his strength and defence to be, with unceasing vigilance against the "roaring lion." These are the two invisible weapons which God puts into the hands of His people in the presence of the enemy — weapons which are enough to defeat his most powerful assaults.

In Gethsemane, notice that the Lord says, Watch and pray lest you enter, not into sin, but into temptation. Christ was perfect through it all, but Peter fell to cursing and swearing, and denied his Lord. It was not a question of Peter's integrity, for he loved the Lord, but he did not know himself. He had to go through this process. Yet before he had ever failed, Christ had prayed for him.

What brought him into the judgment hall? Why did he "enter into temptation" like this? — this was entering into temptation. He had not been told to do so. In verse 58, Peter followed Christ "at a distance," and "went in and sat with the guards to see the end." He "entered into temptation." There he was at that moment — flesh unjudged and trusted in — prayer and watchfulness missing — a moral distance between him and Christ — temptation entered upon, and unholy company sought.

"The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak," is not a sympathetic comment about them. It is given as a reason for watching and prayer, and to mark how necessary they are. Do not rely on the readiness of your spirit, for the flesh in which you walk is weak; therefore watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation.

See how He speaks in grace to Peter: "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." Oh, I know you love Me. Your hearts are all right, but it is this poor weakness. What perfect grace! He counted on their hearts in one sense when the temptation was coming. When they had failed completely, He thought of the danger to them.

To Him it was now the path of obedience; but whatever was not that was temptation. So it is with everything: all we meet with is an occasion of temptation or of obedience. Only there did it come out, at the point where everything reached its crisis with man.

This was the flesh, ready to face everything. The flesh even when warned is always self-confident… "Watch and pray," that was what Jesus did. If Peter had listened, he would have been on his guard against the temptation, and in dependence on God, and he would not have entered into it. He slept in the presence of temptation, as he had slept in the presence of the glory.

It is not any power given by the Spirit of God that keeps, even though He is the Spirit of power. It is not energy in this or that which keeps, but dependence. It is the sense of weakness that watches and prays, and so has the power of Christ resting on us. His strength made perfect in weakness.

This is the cup of sufferings. This is the cup of the wrath of God which the Lord was aware of here in Gethsemane. He knew that He would have to be made sin... Could One who was pure desire to be made sin? Do we understand His anguish, do we look at Him with adoring hearts? And then He says in verse 42: "My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done." Here we see the Lord in His perfect purity. Even so, He makes His own will one with the will of His Father.

He rises and comes back to His disciples. He finds them not watching but asleep. He wakes them with a reproof, and yet with a tender apology for their weakness. Then He goes back to say what He has said before, but with less pleading: "My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done."

He should feel it fully, and He did. Otherwise His submission would not have been perfect. But His obedience and submission were perfect... It was a holy desire to shrink from such a judgment, and from being made sin, even while bearing it before God. Yet with it went perfect submission and obedience to His Father, whatever His will was. And He brings it to His Father, where it ought to be brought. He was equally perfect in desiring not to drink it and in obediently submitting to drink it, if it was His Father's will.

But if we were to be saved, if God was to be glorified in Him who had undertaken our cause, the cup must not pass away from Him. And His submission is complete.

If God could ever have set aside the smallest fraction of His righteousness, He would have done it then, at the asking of His own beloved Son. But that was impossible. You would sooner see the sun drop out of the centre of our system and leave us all in darkness and confusion.

The Lord therefore takes the cup, but He takes it from His Father's hand. It was His will that He should drink it. He commits Himself entirely to His Father. So He does not take it from the hand of His enemies, nor from the hand of Satan, though they were the instruments... This is how we escape from second causes and from the temptations of the enemy: by seeking only the will of God, who directs all things.

He went through the depth of His misery in His spirit with God. It was all fully out with God. For that reason He could turn with perfect peace and say to others, "Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation."... Everything that meets us is either a temptation or an occasion of obedience. It was to Him an occasion of perfect obedience.

They had not listened to the Lord's warnings, for their eyes were heavy with sleep. They had missed the opportunity of watching with the Lord and proved their own weakness.

I know very well it has been said he could not help it in his weariness. Friends, it is remarkable how sleep would leave your eyes if something really had hold of you. When the affections or the heart are deeply taken up, sleep flies from the eyelids. If Peter's heart, if Peter's soul, had been taken up with the sorrows of Jesus, sleep would have pressed very lightly on his eyes. But it was not so. His own sorrow filled his mind, and so he slept while the Lord was in agony.

"The flesh is weak." I can only think it is the Lord's grace to put that reading on it. People tend to put the worst reading on things; we should seek to put the best... Do you think their eyes were heavy when the armed crowd came, and afterwards? No; but the flesh was weak here. Had there been enough interest in what the Lord asked, this would not have happened. And have we not often done the same, and felt it keenly? We are told to make the best use of the time (Eph. 5:16). We cannot redeem the past.

When He comes to the disciples He finds them sleeping. Think of it! The Master praying, and the servants sleeping. The Master is in agony before God, showing the perfection of human dependence in that moment of unequalled sorrow. The servant is sleeping. Such is human nature. Peter slept in the presence of the glory of the Lord, on the Mount of Transfiguration. Now he is sleeping in the presence of His sorrow.

Where was the strength that was going through everything just now? Yet with what grace He warns, with what grace He excuses! "Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." ... But here He was so completely with His Father about the depth of what lay before Him. He had gone through all of it with His Father alone. So His free, unhindered grace could be just as perfect toward His poor, feeble, failing disciples. There was no weight on His spirit with them; He had carried that weight with His Father.

Just here the secret of all the failure comes out. A prayerless life is a powerless life. There can be no standing for God where there is no dependence on God... Peter is seen self-confident (verse 33), sleeping (verse 40), rash (verse 51), cowardly (verse 56), and bold in denying his Master (verse 70).

Later, at the cross, the disciples could have no part at all in the sufferings of the Lord Jesus. But here He expects some fellowship from them in watching with Him — and He finds them sleeping. In times of most pressing need our hearts may be dull and unfeeling. That is because we are not concerned to enter into the Lord's thoughts. Is one hour too long to spend in sympathy with His sorrow?

Verse 44. We learn an important lesson here. Three times over — but not vain repetition! Earlier Scripture tells us not to use vain repetitions. Yet here the blessed Lord uses the same words. We may pray the same thing over and over again, and it need not be vain repetition, if our heart is in it.

His "saying the same words" is instructive for us. It was not mere repetition, which He forbids (ch. 6:7). His soul was so affected that these were the words that expressed His deepest thoughts.

But He takes nothing from man, nor from Satan, nor does He complain as Job did. He prays — He gives Himself to prayer. Satan's effort to hide God from His soul, to get in between, as he sometimes does with believers, was useless. The distress drives Him to God, which is the true sign of the soul's link with Him. "Being in agony, He prayed more earnestly." The cup could not pass — and that was grace, mighty grace. The effect is that He receives it wholly and solely from His Father's hand.

He knew that if He did not drink that cup of judgment on the cross, you and I would have to drink it in eternity. If He did not drink the cup in our place, there was no deliverance for you and me — no salvation, no pardon, no cleansing. As He looked at that cup He shrank from it in all the perfect holiness of His being, He prayed to be spared it with the utmost intensity. Then He took it, and drank it to the very dregs in the perfection of His love.

The Lord asks them to watch with Him for that short time. Do you think their eyes were heavy when the armed crowd came, and after? No — but the flesh was weak here. Had there been enough interest in the Lord's request, this would not have happened. They miss the opportunity of pleasing the Lord. And have we not often done the same, and felt it keenly?

He was perfectly with His Father about the depth of what lay before Him. He had had all of that with Him alone. So His free, unhindered grace could move in full liberty toward His poor, feeble, failing disciples. No weight of it lay on His spirit with them, for He carried that with His Father.

Gethsemane was the doorway of the cross. There He prayed with strong crying and tears, alone with His Father in deepest agony, fallen on His face... He went into all the anguish of death, praying to be spared the cup He had to drink, yet in meek and perfect submission. And He was heard for His godly fear. He was saved, not from dying, for that would have left man in his sins and unredeemed; He was saved out of death. His prayer was answered by His resurrection.

An angel is there to support His bodily weakness. But His spirit receives its strength in prayer, and in knowing that He had come to this point along the pathway of the divine will. So He comes back from that spot in His usual calmness and peacefulness, to place Himself in the hands of His enemies.

The third time the Lord returns to the disciples, He has to say, "Sleep on now and take your rest." They had missed the opportunity of watching with the Lord and proved their own weakness. So the Lord has to say, "It is enough." The time for watching and praying had passed. The time of trial had come. The betrayer was at hand. And the One who had watched and prayed can now say, in confidence and dependence on God, "Rise up, let us go."

In verse 45, in tender words which yet showed them their service was over, and how He had been alone, He says, "Sleep on now" — watching time is finished, the power of evil in act is here.

Now that He has finished His holy, dependent watch of preparation for the cross, He can tell the disciples, "Sleep on now and take your rest." Their true rest did not depend on their watching or their work. It rested on His faithfulness even to death, the death of the cross. He goes out in the calm knowledge that He has conquered. No doubt is left that He will finish the work.

And yet they really may now sleep on and take their rest. The work of deliverance is in hands that cannot fail in what they undertake. A deeper foundation is to be laid now than the one laid for the old earth, and the "new creation" built on it will go far beyond the old in every way.

The disciples show nothing but human weakness in that hour. Weighed down by it, they fall asleep — dazed. It was the same on the mount of glory as in the valley of the shadow of death. They do not respond to His tender call to watch with Him, and they do not see their own need to stay out of temptation.

But they must be fully proved, so He does not send them away. They must be with Him to the end, and learn the lesson however gently it comes. There was overconfidence in Peter, yet even that fitted him to strengthen his brothers once he was restored by a deeper knowledge of what human strength comes to in the things of God.

So the more Satan presses Him, the nearer to God He is. That is why it says, "being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly." As a result He receives nothing from Satan's hand, but from His Father's. "The cup which my Father has given me, shall I not drink it?" Before He left Gethsemane, the whole power of Satan was morally destroyed. He had gone through the hour with His Father, and now He takes the cup from His Father's hand, as an act of obedience.

Marvelous words of grace, calmness and dignity. The Shepherd is ready to give His life for the sheep, so that they might have life and rest.

The Son of Man is now delivered up into the hands of sinners. The Rabbi, Teacher, Prophet, handed over by the false friend, is now wounded in the house of His friends. He is the Shepherd of Israel, who taught daily in the temple, made the flock lie down in green pastures and led them beside the still waters. He could have commanded more than twelve legions of angels. Now He is struck with the sword and the sheep are scattered. His dearest friends could sleep while He watched through that dreadful hour in agony of soul and prayer, and now they all leave Him.

When the enemy is at hand, it is the time for action, not for watching and praying.

The third time the Lord returns to the disciples, He has to say, "Sleep on now and take your rest." They had missed the opportunity of watching with the Lord and proved their own weakness, and the Lord has to say, "It is enough." The time for watching and praying had passed. The time of trial had come. The betrayer was at hand. And the One who had watched and prayed can now say, in confidence and dependence upon God, "Rise, let us be going."

He has now finished His watch of holy, dependent preparation for the cross. So He can tell the disciples, "Sleep on now and take your rest." Their true rest did not depend on their watching or their work. It depended on His faithfulness even to death, the death of the cross. He goes out in the calm awareness that He has conquered. No doubt remains that the work will be done.

Verse 46 may seem to contradict this, because now He tells them to rise and be going. But they may still rest, for He is going to the cross on purpose for them. He knows that Judas is coming, but makes no suggestion of going elsewhere.

The conflict at Gethsemane is behind Him. In full dignity and peace before men, Jesus goes forward to meet God's will at their wicked hands. In the meekest words He lays bare the base evil of Judas, and the rash weakness of the follower who defended Him without thinking. He points to His coming death, though He had every right to command legions of angels for Himself — He who also speaks worlds into existence and brings the wicked to nothing by His word. But He was a prisoner for the will of God, not of man's power.

In verse 45 He uses tender words that still showed them their service was over, and how alone He had been. He says, "Sleep on now" — the watching time is finished, the power of evil is here in action — "Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand." But they must be fully proved, He does not send them away. They must be with Him to the end, and learn the lesson, however gently it comes to them. Peter was over-confident. Yet even that fitted him to strengthen his brothers. What restored him was a deeper knowledge of what human strength comes to in the things of God.

Being in an agony, He prays the more earnestly; it drives Him to His Father; and that before the trial comes. Then what is the next thing? When the trial actually comes, it is already gone through with God! He presents Himself before them saying, "Whom do you seek?" as calmly as if going to work a miracle.

Jesus was walking with God. It was not that He did not feel weakness. "Remain here, and watch with me" shows the weakness of the human condition fully felt... Then what is the next thing? When the trial comes, He has already gone through it with God! He presents Himself before them saying, "Whom do you seek?" as calmly as if He were going to work a miracle.

To others he looked just like the other disciples. He had kept company with the Lord. He had been one of those sent out to preach the gospel and work miracles. But his conscience was never before God... Three years walking with Jesus, seeing His grace and love, must have moved Judas's affections. But his conscience had never been at work before God. So it is with many.

It was a trial of man under new circumstances. Judas was a "close friend" (Ps. 41:9) of the Lord Jesus. He heard His gracious words, saw His miracles, and was probably allowed to work miracles himself in His name. And yet, as in every other trial of man, he fell. Judas is a solemn example of how far a person can come under the influence and power of Christianity, and still fall away from the faith.

It seems that Judas made good use of his time since he left the room where the feast was kept. The Lord had said to him, knowing the thoughts of his dark heart, "What you are going to do, do quickly." Possessed by Satan, he had rushed out into the dark night, and, in feverish haste, led on by the evil one, he had succeeded in all his plans.

"The swords show that the Roman soldiers (John 18:3) were at the centre of this crowd. The clubs and so on show that the Jewish temple guard, and other fanatics of various kinds, were there too" (Lange). Jew and Gentile, men of different nations and different classes, were all ready to take part in the world's crowning sin — and they did.

What a scene! Gentiles and Jews come to lay their hands on the Prince of Life, the Lord of Glory, ready to commit the greatest sin. Now all the sinfulness of sin comes into view. But why such a great multitude and such precaution to capture one man, who was "gentle and lowly in heart"? What a testimony after all to His power, which they feared — and yet what blindness.

Let me remind you of the terrible scene which began in the garden of Gethsemane. The Lord then said to those who came to arrest Him, "But this is your hour, and the power of darkness" (Luke 22:53). They had come out with their swords and clubs to do deeds of darkness. But the Lord was serene and unaffected in the face of their threats and weapons. Neither He nor His servants would fight with worldly weapons. His kingdom was not part of this world of darkness.

The crowd showed their violence in their swords and clubs. Judas showed the basest treachery, betraying the Lord with a kiss. Peter sprang into sudden action in his own strength. All the disciples left Him and ran away. Violence, treachery, false and mistaken activity, fear and shame. Again we say, what a story! And such are we when brought face to face with the power of darkness, and out of communion with God.

Judas appears with a large crowd armed with swords and clubs. He had arranged the signal with them beforehand: he would kiss the Lord. So he goes ahead to carry out his cowardly plan. He had already seen the Lord read the very thoughts of men. But he has no faith at all, so he thinks he can deceive Him in this repulsive way. He acts as though the Lord would not know that his kiss was a kiss of betrayal.

Judas came to betray the Lord at just that time, and with such a sign. This seems to add greatly to the sorrow and anguish of our Saviour. At the same time it makes the awful hardness and cruelty of Judas' act more terrible than ever.

Even with Judas — the betrayer gave them a sign: "Whoever I kiss is the man; hold Him fast." It is terrible to think of Judas urging them to hold Him fast! In Judas you get the lust of money; you see a progress of sin. He was a thief and had the money bag... Then Satan tempts him to betray Him, I do not doubt with the idea that He would get free. Then after supper Satan enters into him, and he is hardened against all natural feeling. Even many a bad man would not betray his friend by a kiss.

No doubt (it looks that way, at any rate) the devil had deceived Judas. He did not think they could ever hold Him fast. We have seen the Lord deliver Himself when His hour had not yet come. Judas found He did not deliver Himself. He was shocked, threw down the money in the temple, and went and hanged himself.

A kiss is the sign of peace, the token of affection — but this was the kiss of a Judas! It is only by the grace of God that we believers are what we are. We ought to be very careful when we say we are not people like him.

Judas was absorbed with satisfying his own lust, and blind to the glory of Christ. So he dares not only to betray the Lord, but to do it with a kiss. A little later the enemies of the Lord will spit in His face. With equal grace the Lord submits to the awful hypocrisy of the betrayer who kisses Him, and to the insulting contempt of the enemies who spit on Him. Wonderful Saviour, who endured the hostility of sinners!

Nearness to Jesus only hardens in a terrible way, if faith is missing and the heart is not moved by His presence. Satan enters that heart to harden it further. He leads him to do the basest act imaginable — to betray a close companion while covering him with kisses. In the end he abandons him to despair in the presence of God.

Here was an apostle — a preacher of the gospel, a man who claimed much. Yet under that cover of religion lay a heart trained in greed. It had wide room for thirty pieces of silver, but not a corner for Jesus. What a case! What a picture! What a warning!... He preached the gospel, but he never knew it, never believed it, never felt it.

The word translated 'Hail' is Chaire, and it literally means 'Rejoice!' though it is true it was also commonly used as a greeting or farewell. But the true, literal meaning of the word is 'Rejoice!' "Rejoice, Master!" he said, "and kissed Him."

What must the Holy One have suffered, when the one who had been in His loving company came up and said that word, "Oh, the Joy"? What suffering must have passed through that loving heart when He felt the vile lips of that one on His cheeks!

It is striking that while John and his companions called the Saviour "Lord," the betrayer called Him "Rabbi" only (Matt. 26:25). There is no recorded instance of Judas ever giving Him the higher title. To truly acknowledge Jesus as Lord is the fruit of a work of the Holy Spirit within (1 Cor. 12:3).

And the word for "kissed Him" is not the word Judas used when he gave them this sign. Then he had used the word phileo, I love, or, I kiss. But he was eager to make sure they seized the One he had once followed. So he "covered Him with kisses": kata-phileo, a much stronger word. It is difficult for us to imagine anything more horrible than Judas' way of betraying his Master. And we know from the Psalms how keenly our Lord felt it. See, for example, Psalm 41:9: "Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me."

Then, after the supper, Satan entered into him, and he was hardened against all natural feeling. After all, many a bad man would not betray his friend with a kiss.

Judas is absorbed with satisfying his own lust, and blind to the glory of Christ. So he dares not only to betray the Lord, but to do so with a kiss. A little later the enemies of the Lord will spit in His face. Yet with equal grace He submits to both: to the awful hypocrisy of the betrayer who kisses Him, and to the insulting contempt of enemies who spit on Him. Wonderful Saviour who endured the contradiction of sinners!

A kiss, the sign of peace — the token of affection, but this, the kiss of a Judas! It is only by the grace of God that we believers are what we are. We ought to be very careful when we say we are not such as he.

"But Jesus said to him, Friend, for what purpose have you come?" What a calm and gentle answer to the Satan-possessed Judas Iscariot. Should this tender question not have touched the conscience of the traitor? He was beyond hope. It is significant that the Lord addresses him with the word, Friend. Yet it is a different word which the Lord used in calling His disciples as recorded in John 15. The word He uses here means "companion." Judas had been a companion of the Lord. He had seen His mighty works, and the Lord had given him messianic power to heal the sick. This is the last word that wicked man ever heard addressed to himself by the Lord.

First there comes Judas, the traitor. He masked his treachery with such hypocrisy that, nineteen centuries after the event, "the traitor's kiss" is still a proverbial expression of disgust. In the language of Psalm 41:9, here was "my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread." And he had "lifted his heel against me." So Jesus addressed him as "Friend." But He asked him the searching question, "why have you come?" Judas had come to betray his Master, to gain thirty paltry pieces of silver.

The treachery of Judas still wanted to hide itself in the kiss of identification. He gives that kiss with emphasis, as if to assure the One he is betraying that he is not part of the crowd following him. The Lord sees through this disguise. He answers not with a rebuke but with a question: "Friend, why are you here?" To this He adds, as Luke tells us, the more direct one: "Judas, would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?" Divine love has not, even yet, stopped pleading. It has not closed the door against his return even yet.

At the garden Judas and the Lord parted, to meet once more — and only once more. They would never meet again on earth, but at the great white throne. The Lord's last words made plain that the man's hypocrisy was unmasked. What must the traitor have thought during the few hours that he survived in this world?

"Then they came up and laid hands on Jesus and seized him." You don't get everything in one part of Scripture. "He gave his back to those who strike," or they could not have touched Him. He lived far too long to please men. Look at Nazareth. They sought to kill Him there, but they could not until their hour came. "This is your hour, and the power of darkness."

The Lord receives it with the calmness of One who, now in the path of obedience, had perfectly bowed to His Father's will. "Friend, why have you come?" For indeed, when He warned His disciples, He might have gone away, since it was dark. But He had not come for that. He could have had twelve legions of angels; but how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled that it must be so? … What a testimony to Scripture and its authority! In that greatest and loneliest hour, that stands out from all and has none like it, it was enough.

As the Lord is taken by the crowd, one of His disciples — John tells us it was Peter — used his sword to cut off the ear of the high priest's servant. But this did not lead to a fight. The Lord Jesus was in perfect control of the situation. He gave the royal command to put up the sword, adding that whoever takes the sword risks perishing by the sword. Matthew does not mention His faithful mercy in restoring the ear. This Gospel puts more emphasis on His authority, while Luke shows His grace.

When Christ was praying, Peter was sleeping. When Christ was submitting as a lamb led to the slaughter, Peter was fighting. When Christ was confessing in suffering, Peter was denying Him with cursing and swearing. This is simply the flesh at work. It sleeps when it should be awake. It is full of energy when it should be still. Then it denies the Lord when the trial comes.

Peter was pleased with himself and sure of himself, and he had a strong, driving love for his master. These worked with mixed motives, out of a heart that had never been humbled. They led him to use the sword and cut off the ear of the high priest's servant. Weighed in God's presence, it was flesh and worldliness. Many of the best in our day, I judge, have the same thing to confess: zeal without knowledge. The aim was right. Much in the man who took up the defence was wrong. Much of the method and the course he chose was wrong too.

The Lord was speaking of the hostile world He was leaving them in. He had told anyone who had no sword to sell even his coat and buy one (Luke 22:36). Peter seems to have taken this literally. The moment he sees his beloved Master attacked, his weapon is out, and he strikes a servant of the high priest and cuts off his ear. But he has belittled and misrepresented the One he wanted to serve. A Master who needed His disciple's sword to get Him out of such hands would have fallen very low indeed. If He yields, it is to God, not man.

How slow we are to learn grace, or to grasp the unworldly, the heavenly nature of Christianity! How slow to learn the differences that God has made in the ordering of His ways! The law and the sword agreed well; but grace and the sword are absolutely incompatible. Nature understands the first and acts on it at once. But the Christian should seek to know the second, and act on that. The disciple acted in law and used the sword; the blessed Master acted in grace and healed the ear of Malchus. How bright the contrast!

When he got into the high priest's hall, the wounded man's relation recognised the man who had used the sword. Possibly Peter thought he was very devoted, and that he was doing a fine thing. Dear friends, what we need is to get the word from the Lord.

The Lord had told any disciple who had no sword to sell even his coat and buy one (Luke 22:36). Peter probably took this literally. The moment he sees his beloved Master attacked, his weapon is out, and he strikes a servant of the high priest and cuts off his ear. But he has belittled and misrepresented the One he wanted to serve. His Master must have fallen very low indeed, if He needed His disciple's sword to get Him out of hands like these. If He yields, it is to God, not to man.

A sword was out of keeping, totally out of place, in the company of the meek and lowly Sufferer! … Peter was completely outside the current of his Master's spirit. He had not one thought in common with Him about His path of suffering. He wanted to defend Him with weapons of the flesh, forgetting that His kingdom was not of this world.

But this did not turn into a fight. The Lord Jesus was in perfect control of the situation. He gives the royal command to put the sword away, and adds that by taking the sword a man exposes himself to perishing with the sword. Matthew does not mention His faithful mercy in restoring the ear. Matthew stresses His authority more, rather than His grace as Luke does.

The character of the patience and the faith of the saints is not to resist at all. This is true at all times. If anyone uses the weapons of the flesh, those weapons will master him. Whoever draws the sword shall perish by the sword.

He could have had twelve legions of angels. But then how would the Scriptures come true, which said it must be so? … He was going as a lamb to the slaughter. This was His place. He was always perfectly obedient, and He was learning obedience by the things He suffered. That path is ours. If a Christian uses human violence and human weapons, the world will meet him with human weapons that are stronger.

Peter did use the sword to defend his Master. Matthew records the Lord's reproof (26:52), and it fits his Gospel, since it marked a change in the way opponents were to be dealt with. That reproof settled for ever the idea of spreading the kingdom of God now by such weapons. "All who take the sword will perish by the sword." And in a future time this same principle will hold good (Rev. 13:10).

The Lord did not say this to the world in general, and He did not mean nations quarrelling with one another. He aimed it at the thought in the hearts of His disciples that the sword would set up His kingdom. Others of the Lord's people have had the same thought since that memorable night, and have perished by the sword as the Lord said they would.

Scripture keeps referring to the sword as the instrument of death. The New Testament speaks of the magistrate carrying it (Rom. 13:4). This shows that the gospel does not set aside God's governmental principle of capital punishment, which God commanded after the flood (Gen. 9:5-6).

Peter is again to illustrate how far even a loyal heart may be from the mind of Christ... But he has belittled and misrepresented the One he wanted to serve. His Master would have to be fallen very low indeed to need His disciple's sword to get Him out of hands like these. If He yields, it is to God, not man; He yields — to take the cup from the Father's hand: and what should the sword do here? Were not heaven's legions dependent on His will? and would not the Father, if He had willed it, give Him, not twelve frail disciples, but more than twelve legions of angels?

He could have asked the Father for twelve legions of angels. If one angel was able to destroy 185,000 troops in one night (2 Kings 19:35), what could twelve legions do? The Roman legion was 6000 footmen, plus horsemen. But He was not concerned with defending Himself. He was concerned with fulfilling Scripture.

The conflict at Gethsemane is behind Him. In full dignity and peace before men, Jesus goes forward to meet God's will at their wicked hands. In the gentlest words (verses 50-54) He lays bare the base evil of Judas and the rash weakness of His thoughtless defender. He points to His coming death, though He had the right to command legions of angels on His behalf — He who also speaks worlds into existence and destroys the wicked by His word. But He was a prisoner for the will of God, not of man's power.

In Matthew 26:53 we have a detail that belongs especially to this Gospel. It was simply the right of Jesus, as Messiah, the Son of God, to have angels at His disposal.

He sought no rescue for Himself. He was ready to bare His chest to the dreadful arrow, and to go to the very limit of obedience. That is why He said, "But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?" (Matthew 26:54). Fulfilling Scripture was supreme in His holy, devoted heart. It must be so, He said. Even for Him, rescue was impossible if God's will was to be done and the work of redemption completed.

He had gone through it all with His Father about His path, and now it was settled — not His feeling about it, but the divine path itself. It must be: Scripture, the true revealed mind of God, had pointed out that path. What a testimony to Scripture and its authority! In that greatest and loneliest hour, that stands out from all and has none like it, it was enough.

In the Garden of Gethsemane Peter drew his sword in feeble defence of the Lord. The King reminds him of the army at His disposal, the heavenly hosts... But He had not come to fight a battle against man, not even against His enemies. He came to fight against sin, and in that conflict He must be alone. More wonderful than ever will be the royal display after that glorious victory.

If a Christian uses human violence and human weapons, the world will meet him with human weapons, and stronger ones. Submission to God's will and the cross is the path.

This word is more general. It covers necessity of any kind — the necessity that lies in the nature of the case, or above all the necessity that comes by divine appointment. That gives it greater strength. "Must" is its most frequent translation. These passages show the necessity established by the will and word of God: Matthew 16:21; Matthew 26:54; Luke 24:44; John 20:9; Acts 4:12.

Here we see the simple submission of Jesus, meek and lowly in heart. He could have had more than twelve legions of angels; "but how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?" Notice what is most striking here. This was the last extraordinary moment. He was about to drink that cup of wrath. The blessed Son of God as a man was going into what none of us can fathom — to endure what was due to sin. And still the Scriptures, the word God had spoken, must be fulfilled. What a testimony that they express divine thoughts, His Father's mind, even to the Lord Himself! And so they ought to be to us. When Satan came, He answers with a text: "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God." When Satan comes again, "It is written." Now at this last moment the Scriptures must be fulfilled.

Under the shadow of the cross, He said, "But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?" (Matthew 26:54). Which Scriptures? No doubt largely Moses and the prophets, but also the Psalms, which spoke not only of His death and sufferings as crucified, but also of His resurrection, glorification, sitting at God's right hand, and coming reign.

He could have asked the Father for twelve legions of angels. If one angel was able to destroy 185,000 troops in one night (2 Kings 19:35), what could twelve legions do? The Roman legion was 6,000 foot soldiers, plus horsemen. However, He was not concerned about His own defence, but about fulfilling Scripture.

In the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter drew his sword in feeble defence of the Lord. The King reminds him of the army of heavenly hosts at His disposal (Matthew 26:53). But He had not come to fight a battle against man, even against His enemies. He came to fight sin, and in that conflict He had to be alone.

In Gethsemane He made it clear. If He called on His Father for twelve legions of angels to stand by Him, the Father would send them and deliver Him from the cruel enemy. But His lips did not breathe that prayer. He asked for no rescue. He was ready to bare His chest to the dreadful arrow, and to go to the utmost extreme in obedience. The fulfilment of Scripture was uppermost in His holy, devoted heart. "It must be so," He said. If God's will was to be done and redemption completed, no rescue was possible — not even for Him.

He was always perfectly obedient. He was learning obedience through the things He suffered, and that path is ours. If a Christian takes up human violence and human weapons, the world will meet him with human weapons, and stronger ones. Submission to God's will, and the cross, is the path.

(ληστής) 'robber, bandit.' Used by the Lord about those who bought and sold in the temple. Matt. 21:13; Mark 11:17; Luke 19:46. In the parable of the Good Samaritan the traveller fell among robbers. Luke 10:30, 36. When they arrested the Lord, He asked whether they had come out as against a robber. Matt. 26:55; Mark 14:48; Luke 22:52. The two criminals crucified with the Lord were also men of this character. Matt. 27:38, 44.

The Lord knows it all. Does it not seem remarkable? Here is the One so gentle and so lowly — "His Voice not heard in the street" and the like. Yet they come out against Him as against a thug, with a great armed crowd.

In verse 55 He speaks a searching word to the consciences of the crowd. He had taught publicly in the temple, in front of them, every day, and they did not arrest Him. Now they come to search for Him in the dark of night, as though He had been a thief trying to evade the law. In this way He exposes the unrighteousness of their cause, which they were afraid to carry out in the light of day.

They could have taken the Lord any day in the temple, out in the open, for He had taught openly and publicly. But their cowardly fear of the people, and their lack of all principle, led them to act as if they were dealing with a thief. They understood a thief, and they knew how to deal with a thief. But the infinite perfections of Christ were beyond their understanding.

They had come with worldly weapons. But His daily contact with them in the temple had shown that He never used such weapons. The incongruity of their coming in this way only exposed their evil motives. "But," He added, "this is your hour and the power of darkness" (Luke 22:53). They were to be allowed their brief hour, to express their hatred in full against Him and against God, as the willing tools of satanic power.

Why had they not taken Him, while daily in the temple He had been teaching publicly among them? They had feared the people, as we know. Judas's treachery alone gave them what they thought was their opportunity. But neither power nor cunning could have succeeded against Him. Only the will of God made it possible, the will that Scripture witnessed to. It bound them so little, but Him so completely; and yet they too were fulfilling it.

He was perfectly submissive to the authority of those led by the traitor. Even so, we catch a glimpse of our Lord's conscious kingly authority. To those sent to seize Him He would not agree, even by silence, to any thought of guilt on His part. He reminds them that He had sat daily with them, teaching in the temple. It was the fulfilment of Scripture that He alone acknowledged.

Why had they not taken Him earlier, while He was teaching openly in the temple every day? They were afraid of the people, as we know, and only Judas's betrayal gave them what they thought was their chance. But neither their power nor their cunning could have succeeded against Him. It happened only because of that will of God which Scripture testified to. That will held them so lightly, but held Him completely; and yet even they were carrying it out.

Sometimes the written word says, "that the scripture might be fulfilled." But in Gethsemane our Lord spoke of how He could ask His Father, if He wished, for twelve legions of angels. Then He added, "But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled?" And again, "that the Scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled." Why Scriptures and not Scripture? Because every prophetic writing about His humiliation, rejection, sufferings, pain and forsaking had to be accomplished in His death, as a sacrifice and offering to God on the cross.

The word He had spoken was now fulfilled. He had said, "You will all fall away because of Me this night; for it is written, 'I will strike the Shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.'" Now the Shepherd stands alone.

Now the sheep of the flock scatter, as the prophet had testified. As they fled they were protected, as John shows us, by their struck Shepherd. In fact they could not follow Him now, as He had said to Peter. Nothing could be allowed to blur the truth of the lonely, unique place He was now to take: not with His people, but for them... So He was alone, and He had to stay alone. Only when His work was perfectly finished would He come out in the morning of resurrection, with the night gone for ever.

The Lord submits in perfect calm. He had already weighed it all in His Father's presence... But no one could follow Him into the valley of death, or stand up against the enemy's power, except the faithful Saviour Himself.

They thought their lives were in danger. They had said boldly that they would never deny Him, yet they failed miserably. A lesson for us: when the test comes, we will break down too, unless we are in communion with Christ.

We may be tempted to throw stones at them and call them cowards. So let us ask ourselves this instead: have we ever sought our own things at the cost of His company, His reproach and His interests?

The Father would send the Spirit at the Son's asking. Once on high, the Lord's first thought would be for the disciples He had left on earth. This would show real love on His part — love to the very men who deserted Him and ran away when He was arrested in the garden.

That word "led" has a very sweet place. It speaks of the Lord submitting quietly when His time came. He was "like a lamb that is led to the slaughter." And turn to Isaiah 50. Only a Divine Person could say, "I clothe the heavens with blackness." Yet the same One gave His back to those who strike. None could touch it, till He gave it. Luke tells us He submitted Himself to them: "This is your hour, and the power of darkness." Jew and Gentile, led on by the devil, could do as they pleased against the Son of God. But in the very thing in which they acted proudly, God was above them.

Though this was late at night, the high priest Caiaphas, with scribes and elders, had gathered to wait for their victim. They meant to reach their evil ends as fast as possible. That way no calm, careful process of law could catch up with them before they were rid of Him. The people who would gather there at night would be the most excitable, and the easiest for the inflamed leaders to sway.

First we see Him before Caiaphas, the high priest, where the scribes and the elders were assembled. They were expecting Him. What triumph must there have been on their faces! On that memorable night they had Him at last — the One they hated and despised, brought in tightly bound, under arrest in Gentile hands.

Even trials about money had to be held in the daytime. Trials for a man's life had to take place during the day too — and if the verdict was condemnation, the sentence had to wait until the second day. They condemned the Lord Jesus and declared Him worthy of death, and this before the night of His arrest was over.

He received his office from the Roman governor Valerius Gratus. That governor made and unmade high priests, one might say, at his will... God's order in the high priesthood was set aside. A Gentile, Valerius Gratus, put in, it would seem, whomever he pleased from the house of Aaron.

Comparing the Gospels, I think we have two sessions of the chief priests and elders. The first is when they bring the blessed Lord there, to Caiaphas. He is questioned and examined, struck and ill-treated. When day came, they met formally in council, to give the proceedings proper form. This time there were no witnesses. So, on the strength of what the Lord had said during the night, they put the question to Him directly, and He answers yes. Once they pronounce their judgment, they lead Him away to Pilate.

Before Caiaphas they count Him guilty of death. The lying witnesses did not succeed. His own confession of the truth condemned Him. He was the Son of God, come in fullness of grace and truth. Yet from now on they would see Him as the Son of Man, sitting at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven. The first is where He is now; the second is how He will be seen when He comes in power and glory.

This term represents several Hebrew words. It may mean castle, fortress, the king's residence, or any large building… In the New Testament the palace of the high priest means his court. Matthew 26:3, 58, 69.

"One under authority," an official servant. Matthew 26:58; Mark 14:54, 65; John 18:36. Also translated "minister" and "officer."

In submission to the Father's will, the Lord lets them lead Him away to appear before the Jewish council. Peter, with true love to the Lord, "followed Him." But he acts in self-confidence. So he follows without the mind of the Lord, and follows "afar off." It happens too often with us as well. Following without divine guidance, he enters into temptation without divine support, and learns only the utter weakness of the flesh.

Perhaps when they had all fled, he remembered his promise to the Lord, and so at a distance he followed. It would have been far better for Peter if he had not followed at all.

It was a little of that same spirit the Lord warned against — eating and drinking with the drunkard. That is, it was association with the men of the world when they were set on the deepest enmity against the Lord Jesus… He feared the world. He feared the men among whom he found himself. There is nothing that so destroys confession as fear of the world… He wanted, no doubt, to see what was going on. I do not say there were not deeper and better things at the bottom of his heart, but he did it in concealment. He was off the ground of faith.

I have no doubt Peter intended to stand close by the Lord and take all the consequences. But first we see him fail by fleeing, and again by following at a distance. There is a present danger in that for the Christian. We should always be known as the Lord's, in any circumstances… Here Peter was going in and sitting with the servants as if he were one of the crowd. He thought no one would recognise him. But in his presumption he took the very place of danger.

It is terribly dangerous for the Christian to sit down among the enemies of Christ. The very fact that he does so proves that decline has set in and made serious progress. In Peter's case the stages of decline are strongly marked. First, boasting in his own strength. Second, sleeping when he ought to have been praying. Third, drawing his sword when he ought to have been meekly bowing his head. Fourth, following at a distance. Fifth, making himself comfortable among the open enemies of Christ.

There he was, among the enemies of the Lord, far away from Jesus. No wonder Satan was too strong for him. And if we who are the Lord's now go among worldly people and try to warm ourselves at the world's fire, we can only expect Satan to trip us up too. It was a frightening position for Peter. He sat at the fire among the men who had just taken his Master prisoner. They had bound Him, and they were plotting His death.

Where was John all this time? Another Scripture tells us that John went in with Jesus. At first "all the disciples left him and fled" (Matthew 26:56). He is left alone. After a while John gathers courage and comes back. Peter followed at a distance. Are we following the Lord at a distance? If so, we shall not be kept. What about John? Nobody challenged him. He was very near Christ. The man who follows at a distance is bound to be found out and tripped up.

In the scene that follows we see, in the chief priests and their council, how deep into wickedness religious human nature can sink. They had already decided to put Christ to death. So the trial that follows was not an attempt to find out whether He had done anything worthy of death. It was a horrible device to cover murder with a show of justice. With malice in their hearts, they seek not the truth, but witnesses "against Jesus to put Him to death."

As a nation, Israel was especially guilty of false witness against the Messiah. The Spirit of Christ foreshadowed this sin in the prophets: "False witnesses have risen up against me, and men who breathe out cruelty"; "they charged me with things I knew nothing about" (Ps. 27:12; Ps. 35:11). And so, at the right time, the Anointed One presented Himself to the chosen people. It was not the rabble but the religious leaders of the Jews who looked for false witness against Jesus to put Him to death. In doing this they broke the law they were set to administer (Ex. 23:1).

The haste of the whole proceeding completely violated Hebrew law. Trials, even in money matters, had to be held in the daytime. Trials for life also had to take place during the day. And if condemnation followed, the sentence had to wait until the second day. The Lord Jesus was condemned and declared worthy of death, and this before the night of His arrest was even over. Then the law required two or three witnesses to satisfy the court that there was a matter to try. "Their sworn statement began every proceeding. Until they gave it in public against a man, the law held him not merely innocent but unaccused."

He walked so perfectly before God and before man that His enemies found nothing. Their sharp eyes never left Him, yet not one action gave them ground for a truthful accusation. Every attempt to catch something out of His mouth to destroy Him failed. So they turned to false witnesses, who twisted His words to produce even the appearance of a charge against Him. And how could it be otherwise with that holy and spotless life?

But did the chief priests succeed? "And they found none, though many false witnesses came forward." They could find nothing. Therefore, He ought to have been freed.

It is deeply instructive to see how religious apostasy always leads the way in insulting God, in persecuting the people of God, and in bloodthirsty cruelty. Nothing sears the conscience, hardens the mind, and steels the heart like the form of godliness without the power. Outward religious worship and service can be full of fuss and busy activity. Where grace and truth do not rest the mind and hold up the heart, that activity has always destroyed even the kinder feelings of people.

They sought witnesses for the purpose that was already in their hearts. And are not those who bring such witness commonly, if not always, of the same spirit? Do they not dare even to search Scripture to justify the condemnation they have already decided on? And yet how often they are forced to throw out their own witnesses! How little they can quote without misquoting.

In the scene that follows we see how far into wickedness religious human nature can sink, in the chief priests and their council. They had already decided to put Christ to death. So the trial that follows was not held to find out whether He had done anything worthy of death. It was a horrible device to cover murder with a show of justice. With malice in their hearts, they do not look for the truth. They look for witnesses "against Jesus to put Him to death." They find none. So they fall back on false witnesses, only to find that these will not serve their purpose either. The false witnesses condemned themselves by contradicting one another.

They sought witnesses for the purpose that was in their hearts before. And are not those who bring such witness, commonly, if not constantly, of such a spirit? Do not they dare even to search Scripture to justify the condemnation they have determined on already? And yet how often are they obliged to put out of court their own witnesses! How little can they quote without misquoting.

But what can they say against Him? What evil had He done? They had watched Him closely. One group after another had tried to trap Him. Pharisees and Sadducees had come to test Him. They found nothing in Him. In one of His great talks, which they had heard, He had asked, "Which one of you convicts Me of sin?" There was no answer. He was the sinless One, the perfect and holy One... They could find nothing. Therefore, He ought to be freed.

But the power of God was at work behind the scenes, and every attempt to pin these made-up charges on Him came to nothing. They tried many times... One accusation after another broke down, as the false witnesses grew confused and contradicted each other. It seems as though God wrapped their usually sharp minds in a fog of confusion.

They found the will, but not the power; they were ready to testify, but even in that they could not succeed. Man fails in everything, except in malice against Jesus... The law required two or three witnesses to agree, but these did not agree. So in the end Jesus was rejected, not on man's false testimony, but on the true testimony of God. It was for His own testimony that they condemned Him. He came witnessing to the truth, and He witnessed to it right up to death.

There had to be two. Under Jewish law, they needed two witnesses to put anyone to death. God laid that down, and we can see the wisdom of it... They had to go all the way back to the start of the Lord's public ministry, in John 2. He said, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." They were to do the work of destroying, and He, as a Divine Person, would do the restoring and the raising to life... They made out that He had said He would destroy it. It does not agree at all.

We have no way now of knowing what the different accusations were. Only one of them is recorded, and it shows well how careful we need to be when we repeat someone's words. How much harm is done by misrepresenting what someone said, even without meaning to.

As a nation, Israel was especially guilty of false witness against the Messiah. The Spirit of Christ pointed to this sin long before, through the prophets: "False witnesses have risen against me, and they breathe out violence" — "they ask me of things that I do not know" (Ps. 27:12; Ps. 35:11). So when the appointed time came, the Messiah presented Himself to the chosen people. It was not the crowd but the religious leaders of the Jews who looked for false witness against Jesus to put Him to death. In doing so they broke the very law they were appointed to administer (Ex. 23:1).

Before the high priest the false witnesses condemn themselves by contradicting each other. They looked for witnesses to serve the purpose already in their hearts. And are not those who bring such testimony usually, if not always, of that spirit? Do they not even dare to search Scripture to justify the condemnation they have already settled on? And yet how often they must throw out their own witnesses! How little they can quote without misquoting. They themselves were now seeking to destroy the temple of God, just as His words had implied they would. No one else could replace it, but He would raise it up again.

Under Jewish law they had to have the testimony of two witnesses to put any man to death. God laid that down, and we can see the wisdom of it... It shows they had to go right back to the very beginning of the Lord's public ministry in John 2. He said, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." They were to do the work of destruction. He would do the restoring and reviving as a Divine Person... They implied that He had said He would destroy it. It does not agree at all.

There was no thought of a fair trial. His judges had no shame. They wanted testimony that would let them pass the sentence of death on Him. But the power of God was at work behind the scenes, and every attempt to pin the invented charges on Him came to nothing... One accusation after another broke down. The false witnesses fell into confusion and contradicted one another. It is as though God wrapped their normally sharp minds in a fog.

As a present fact, the Lord justifies what He had just done before their eyes. He does this by His relationship with God as His Father. He gives the Jews a sign in the temple of His body, as the witness of His resurrection power. "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." He is ever God; He is the Son; He gives life and raises from the dead... Christ was the true sanctuary, not the one man had laboured over so long in Jerusalem. Man might pull Him down — destroy Him, so far as man could — but He was God, and in three days He would raise up this temple.

A small amount of truth is twisted, as often happens, into the most terrible form of falsehood. The temple of God was indeed to be destroyed, but not by Him; and restored, but not in the way their testimony implied. In fact, no one knew better than they did that He meant nothing of this kind. Later we see how this distortion spread among the people, who took it as the real ground for His condemnation. So easily people nurse a false suggestion along until they accept it as truth.

His words were turned against Him, not only at His trial, but in His dying moments. "And those who passed by reviled Him, wagging their heads and saying, Aha! You who destroy the temple and build it in three days, save Yourself, and come down from the cross." How little they knew! His very words were about to come completely true.

They looked for witnesses for a purpose already fixed in their hearts... How little they can quote without misquoting. It was they who even now were seeking to destroy the temple of God, just as His words had implied they would. No one else could replace it, but He would raise it up again. Still there was no agreement. So the high priest turns to Jesus, to make Him answer what needed no answer, and so make something out of nothing. He is therefore silent.

We are not told that someone misled them into accepting false evidence. We are not told that someone pushed it on them and tempted them. No, it says they "sought false witness against Jesus, to put Him to death." They SOUGHT it. Has there ever, we wonder, been another trial on earth where the judges began by hunting for liars to condemn the accused? So it was here; and faced with it Jesus held His peace.

Finally the high priest has to appeal to Christ Himself. Faced with all this hatred and malice the Lord "held His peace, and answered nothing." Peter watched these solemn scenes, and years later he tells us that "when he was reviled, he did not revile in return." "Like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth" (Isa. 53:7). To the accusations of malice He had nothing to say. But when they challenged the glory of His Person, He witnesses to the truth, whatever it costs. This is the perfect example for all His servants. Having failed to carry out their wicked purpose with malicious lies, they now seek to condemn the Lord for witnessing to the truth. All the devil achieved was to bring to light the truth about the glory of the Person of Christ and to expose the utter wickedness of religious flesh.

The high priest, angry at the Lord's silence, demands that He answer such charges; but there was nothing to answer: He remains silent. Caiaphas knew that no charge of evil could stand against Him. So he changed his tactics and charged Him by the living God to declare whether He is the Son of God. Could He be silent then? No. Leviticus 5:1 is clear: a witness who knows a fact and is put under oath must say what he knows or be guilty.

But to man's testimony against Him the Lord gives no answer. Defending Himself was not His object, and He was not teaching now. He stood as the willing Victim, the Lamb for the slaughter.

Not a word did He speak. Why was this? Answer me that. These small creatures of His own hand insulted their Creator. He could have thrown them out of existence with a single word. Why then did He keep silence?... The love of His heart for sinners brought Him to this.

Paul brings before the Corinthians the meekness of Christ. He never asserted His rights or defended Himself. When people reviled Him, He did not revile in return. The chief priests may slander Him, but "Jesus held His peace." They bring false charges against Him before Pilate, but "he gave him no answer." Herod mocks Him, but "he made no answer." It would be good for us if, when we face slander and insult, we caught something of the Lord's spirit and show the meekness that refuses to assert our rights, stand on our dignity, or defend ourselves.

In the presence of all His accusers His resource was in God. He committed Himself to Him who judges righteously. The Jewish council accused Him falsely, and He "remained silent." Before Pilate, He "gave no answer" to the Jews' accusations, and not a word to Pilate himself. The mocking Herod questioned Him in many words, "but He answered him nothing" (Luke 23:9). He was silent before men because He had a resource in God.

The Lord's silence angers the high priest, who demands that He answer such charges. But there was nothing to answer, so He remains silent. Caiaphas knew that no charge of evil could stand against Him. So he changed his tactics and put Him under oath by the living God to say whether He is the Son of God. Could He be silent then? No. Leviticus 5:1 is clear: if someone witnesses a fact and hears the voice of the oath, he must tell what he knows or be guilty.

An oath was all the more solemn for an Israelite, because Jehovah lived among them to judge... Our Lord was silent before man's deep hypocrisy and false witness. Yet even in a day of utter ruin, in proceedings that mocked all righteousness, we hear Him answer the wicked high priest at once when he put Him under oath. He knew it would seal His condemnation to death.

The high priest turns and puts Him under oath to answer whether He is the Christ, the Son of God. That matches, as we have seen, His title in Psalm 2 — His true, full Messiah-title among the Jews. To this the Lord at once answered that He was. For now it was His own testimony, and He must give the whole truth.

Just one thing remained: to put a question to Him — a question He could not refuse to answer. Why did they not do this at once? First He had to appear as the Holy One, the Lamb of God, without spot or blemish... The high priest knew he would succeed if he put that question about His Sonship to Him. But little did he know what he was doing; the blessed One could not be condemned by false witnesses. Only His own confession of who He was — the confession of the truth — could bring about His condemnation.

Further, the law of the Jews was, "Our law condemns no one to death upon his own confession." It was "a basic principle with us that no one can damage himself by what he says in judgment." So Caiaphas "putting the question to the accused," and founding a condemnation on the answer, "was the last violation of formal justice."

Confession stands by the truth of God against the lie of man, and stands by it at the risk of everything. Our Jesus made this confession... The high priest put Him under oath to say whether He was the Christ, the Son of the Blessed. He stood by the confession of the truth and of His glory, saying, "You have said so." But this cost Him everything. At once they began to spit on Him, to strike Him, to cover His face shamelessly, and to lead Him off as their prey.

The high priest, angry at the Lord's silence, demands that He answer these charges. But there was nothing to answer, so He stays silent. Caiaphas knew that no charge of evil could stand against Him. So he changed his tactics. He put Him under oath before the living God to say whether He is the Son of God. Could He be silent then? No. Leviticus 5:1 is clear: if someone witnesses a fact and hears a solemn call to speak under oath, he must say what he knows or be guilty. The law required Him to tell the truth, and He does. "You have said so," He answers — and it is absolute truth that He is the Son of God.

He put the Lord on His oath, according to Jewish law. This gives us light. We are told, "Do not take an oath at all." The word of God condemns anyone who takes an oath by his own choice. But when the governing authorities put us on oath, we ought to submit to it. The Lord did here. If they order us to sin, then we must obey God rather than man, but we are not called to oppose them.

Before Caiaphas (vv. 57-68) they judge Him worthy of death — not because the false witnesses succeeded, but because of His own confession of the truth. He was the Son of God, come in the fullness of grace and truth. Yet from now on they would see Him as the Son of Man, seated at the right hand of Power and coming in the clouds of heaven. The first is His place now; the second is His appearing in power and glory.

This answer really gave the clue to the difficulty the Jews had raised before: that He, being a man, made Himself God (John 10:33). The solution lay in their own Scriptures. The Son of man of Daniel 7 is a Divine Person. They understood that well. But instead of letting the light from the Lord's words shine into their hearts, they accused Him of blasphemy. They were completely blind — must we not say blind on purpose?

He does not stop there. They needed the truth about how they themselves would one day be brought into complete subjection to Him, not only as Son of God, but as Son of Man. They would see Him seated at the right hand of power, at rest because God had approved His great work of redemption. They would see Him coming in the clouds of heaven, in supreme victory over all creation. Wonderful declaration of the glory to be given Him as Son of Man. The high priest then makes Christ's true confession the one issue. He tears his clothes, disobeying the plain instruction of Leviticus 21:10. Then he accuses the Lord of blasphemy for telling the truth about who He is.

So Matthew 26:64 says, "From now on" (ap' arti) "you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven." Luke always looks at the present, general result, so he keeps only "seated at the right hand of Power" (chapter 23:69). It was in either case immediate (apo tou nun).

The risen Lord showed Himself to certain of His disciples (John 21:1), but not to any of His enemies. He came to Peter and John, Thomas and Cleopas, but not to Caiaphas, Pilate or Herod, or any of their followers. His enemies judged Him unjustly, and He quietly submitted to it. Yet by His own testimony before the Sanhedrin (Matthew 26:64) they will still "see the Son of Man" on the day He appears, when He comes with clouds of glory and majesty to judge all evildoers.

Before Caiaphas (verses 57-68) He is counted guilty of death — not because the falsehood of the witnesses succeeded, but because of His own confession of the truth. He was the Son of God, come in the fullness of grace and truth. Yet from now on they would see Him as the Son of Man, sitting at the right hand of Power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. That is His present position, and that is how He will be seen when He comes in power and glory.

Caiaphas changed tactics and put Him on oath before the living God to say whether He is the Son of God. Could He stay silent then? No. Leviticus 5:1 is decisive: anyone who is a witness to a fact and hears the call to swear must say what he knows, or be guilty. He is required to tell the truth, and He does.

In the eyes of these leaders, blinded by unbelief, the truth appears as blasphemy, and without a dissenting voice "they all condemned Him as deserving death." He is in perfect submission to the Father's will. Soon He will be exalted to the right hand of power and come again in glory. Yet now He offers no resistance to the outrages of those who spit in His face and strike Him with their hands.

Leviticus 21 deals with special instructions for the priests... Even more strict were the rules for the high priest himself, as seen in verses 10-15. So when Caiaphas tore his clothes, as recorded in Matthew 26:65, he clearly broke the command of verse 10. Some who have looked into the matter have said that every possible rule of justice, both divine and human, was broken in the condemnation of our Lord.

In his frenzy the high priest tore his clothes, by which act he destroyed his priesthood, and pronounced the Lord guilty of blasphemy.

A priest was never to tear his garments, though Caiaphas did this when questioning the Lord Jesus (Matt. 26:65), an offence for which the law demanded the death penalty. For above all, the High Priest is a picture of the Lord Jesus. Will His garments of priestly dignity ever be torn? Absolutely not! For this would show some failure or fault in His priestly work. Thank God this is impossible. He remains faithful and true forever!

The scribes and elders agree with him in condemning the Lord as worthy of death, not for anything He had done, but because of who He is. Of course they had decided beforehand that He must be put to death. Now they feel it necessary at least to put on a show of religious zeal.

If it was blasphemy, the blasphemer had to be put to death; and here is this wicked man bursting with rage... Here he does it in pretended righteous indignation... It is very solemn to think about this — to think Who He was Who had all these indignities heaped on Him! But this is no part of His atoning work. Atonement was made when He suffered at the hand of God. He suffered at the hands of men for righteousness — for God. He suffered at the hand of God for sin — for us.

It was the Lord's own confession that they condemned Him on. He put the Lord on His oath, according to Jewish law. This gives us light. We are told, "Do not take an oath at all." The word of God condemns taking an oath by our own choice. But when the governing authorities put us under oath, we ought to submit to it. The Lord did here.

If no one can prove Him guilty, He will not deny the truth. He confesses the glory of His Person as Son of God. He also declares what they would see from now on. They would see the Son of man no longer in the meekness of One who would not break the bruised reed. They would see Him coming in the clouds of heaven, and sitting on the right hand of power. He gave this witness. For that He is condemned — for what He said of Himself, for confessing the truth. The false witnesses did not succeed. The priests and the heads of Israel were guilty of His death. Their guilt came from their own rejection of the testimony He gave to the truth.

The high priest tears his clothes, disobeying the plain command of Leviticus 21:10. He accuses the Lord of blasphemy for answering truthfully about who He is. The scribes and elders agree with him in condemning the Lord as worthy of death, not for anything He had done, but because of who He is.

The Son of man of Daniel 7 is a Divine Person. They understood that well. But instead of letting the light from the Lord's words shine into their hearts, they accused Him of blasphemy. They were completely blind — must we not say blind on purpose? They would not be helped. They judged Him guilty of death.

Then the high priest saw how useless the proceedings were. In his excitement he rose from his seat. He charged Him in the name of the living God to tell them whether He was the Christ, the Son of God. To that charge the Lord had one answer — whatever the consequences, He must bear witness to the truth. In his frenzy the high priest tore his clothes, and by that act he destroyed his priesthood, and pronounced the Lord guilty of blasphemy. Their verdict recalls the command in Deuteronomy 21:22 about a man who is put to death and hanged on a tree: such a man is cursed by God. From that time on they were determined that He should be hanged on a tree — not only the target of their accusations, but, as they hoped, cursed by God.

It is very solemn to think about this — to think who He was who had all these insults heaped on Him! But this is no part of His atoning work. Atonement was made when He suffered at the hand of God. He suffered at the hands of man for righteousness — for God. He suffered at the hand of God for sin — for us. There is nothing so jealously guarded in the word of God as the Person of Christ.

Men treated Him as someone unfit for decent society, unfit even to live in this world. They treated Him with every indignity. Is He left without any justification at all? No, certainly not! Man crucified Him, but God raised Him. His resurrection is His justification, for by it God has declared that man's treatment and judgment of Him was wrong.

If man condemned Him, God would justify Him — and that very word is applied to us in Romans 8.

The moment they unjustly condemn Him, His judges step down from the bench to spit in His face (Mark). Meanwhile the servants strike Him, blindfold Him, and mock Him. These are not the rough soldiers of the governor, nor the Gentile executioners. It is the leaders of Israel who are brought before us here. We see them looking for false witnesses. We see them condemning the guiltless and setting an example in hatred and cruelty. The Son of Man stood like this before the leaders of Israel. What a moment it will be when the leaders of Israel stand before the Son of Man.

Having grossly violated their own law by condemning the Lord Jesus, some of the council, though members of the highest court in Israel, lower their dignity further by resorting to physical abuse, spitting and mockery, venting their hateful spite against this gentle, faithful, unoffending Man of sorrows. This is what moral weakness falls back on — and it came from those who held the place of religious prominence in the land.

His confession set the powers of darkness loose. Christ, the Son of God, offers no defence. He is tasting a little of the cup He had to drink. Oh, to think of it! They spit in His face! That face had gazed on the crowds with loving tenderness and compassion. That face was the image of the invisible God. Men covered it with their vile spittle. How He must have suffered! They struck Him, they hit Him with the palms of their hands, they mocked Him. And not a word, not a murmur, came from His blessed lips.

But obedience in a world like this — above all public service — could only mean continual suffering for such a One as He. We can hardly imagine it. So the result follows at once: "I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting" (Isaiah 50:6). How solemn the thought! What a picture of God standing in the presence of man! His humiliation should have made Him infinitely more precious to us, since it was the matchless proof of His love. Instead it gave man, led on by Satan, the opening he wanted to insult Him to the utmost — and He did not answer back.

When He was reviled, He took it patiently; He neither reviled nor threatened. In the presence of all His accusers His resource was in God. He committed Himself to Him who judges righteously. When falsely accused before the Jewish council, He "remained silent" (Matthew 26:63). To the accusations of the Jews in front of Pilate, He "gave no answer." To Pilate himself, He "gave him no answer, not even to a single charge" (Matthew 27:14). The mocking Herod questioned Him with many words, "but He made no answer" (Luke 23:9). He was silent before men because He had a resource in God.

It is very solemn to think about this — to consider Who He was, who had all these indignities heaped on Him! But this is no part of His atoning work. Atonement was made when He suffered at the hand of God. He suffered at the hands of man for righteousness — for God. He suffered at the hand of God for sin — for us.

"His face was like the sun shining in full strength." Once the vile spittle of men rested on His patient face (Matt. 26:67); now divine glory, far more brilliant, more radiant than the midday tropical sun, is seen in the face of Jesus.

What will those men feel when they stand before Him! "I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting" — these are the words of the One before whose face earth and heaven flee away in Revelation 20. So glorious is He! … The Lord said to the chief of sinners, "Why are you persecuting me?" There are "none too vile and loathsome for a Saviour's grace."

They had violated their own law outright by condemning the Lord Jesus. Now some of the council, though members of the highest court in Israel, lower their dignity further by resorting to physical abuse, spitting and mockery. They vent their hateful spite against this gentle, faithful, unoffending Man of sorrows. This is the resource of moral weakness — and it comes from the very men who took the place of religious prominence in the land.

They condemned Him to death, spat on Him and struck Him. They covered His face so that He could not see where the blows came from. With contempt they called on Him to declare, as a prophet, who was striking Him. Mark notes that the officers hit Him with their hands.

"Prophesy to us, you Christ! Who is it that struck you?" Yet He knew the secret of every human heart, and knew everything. That is why He is "ready to judge" — because He knows everything. This was a very simple thing for Him to answer, but He patiently bore it. That is just the teaching of Isaiah 50. If man condemned Him, God would justify Him — and that very word is applied to us in Romans 8.

The reason for it all — their long history of trouble, ending in the great tribulation — is the rejection of the judge of Israel. It is the Messiah, our Lord. They despised Him, insulted Him, struck Him with a rod on the cheek. He is called the judge of Israel because the judge held the highest official position in Israel; the king of Israel held this office. Being struck on the cheek was considered the greatest disgrace. In the same way Zedekiah struck the prophet Micaiah on the cheek and asked him, "How did the Spirit of the LORD go from me to speak to you?" (see 1 Kings 22:24 and Matt. 26:67, 68).

In all this outrage and cruelty and anguish and suffering, was there no human heart to pity or sympathise? No. As we read in Psalm 142:4, "Look to the right and see: there is none who takes notice of me; no refuge remains to me; no one cares for my soul." But what of Peter, who really loved Jesus in his heart — Peter, who sincerely thought and said he would die for Jesus? What was he doing while Jesus was blindfolded and cruelly struck? Hush, while we tell it: he was denying Jesus, with cursing and swearing. Can we ask for greater proof that we cannot trust ourselves, or our love, or our promises?

In the presence of all His accusers His resource was in God. He committed Himself to Him that judges righteously. When falsely accused before the Jewish council, He "held His peace" (Matthew 26:63)... He was silent before men because He had a resource in God.

They spit in His face! That face had looked on the crowds with loving tenderness and compassion. That face is the image of the invisible God. And men covered it with their vile spittle. How He must have suffered! They struck Him, hit Him with the palms of their hands, mocked Him. And not a word, not a murmur came from His blessed lips... And reader, it was all for such sinners as we are!

This is the high priest's "court," not a palace... Confusion on this point has hidden the truth. Peter was not where they held the first questioning. He was "outside" and "below" in the courtyard. There, by the light of the fire, the servant girl who kept the door accused him of being a disciple of the Nazarene.

It is terribly dangerous for the Christian to sit down among the enemies of Christ. The very fact of his doing so proves that decline has set in, and made serious progress. In Peter's case the stages of decline are clearly marked. First, he boasted in his own strength. Second, he slept when he should have been praying. Third, he drew his sword when he should have quietly bowed his head. Fourth, he followed far off. Fifth, he made himself comfortable among the open enemies of Christ.

The account of the denial here highlights Jesus as "the Galilean" (verse 69) and "the Nazarene" (verse 71) in the first and second denials. The same is implied of Peter in the third (verse 73). No other Gospel — apart from Mark, for a different reason — so brings out the Messiah disowned by His own disciple at the weak words of women.

The Galileans probably pronounced words differently. Or the language spoken in Galilee was not as polished as the language spoken at Jerusalem. Either way, his speech gave Peter away. But the voice of that same Peter, under the power of God, was mighty on the day of Pentecost — though his hearers said, "Are not all these who are speaking Galileans?"

We see here the worthlessness of natural courage in the saint and the weakness of one's own love when relied on. Only God can sustain us, and even then only as we distrust ourselves, receive His word by faith, and keep the heart depending on God. A servant girl frightens an apostle, and the first false step involves others deeper and further, if possible, from God.

When Christ was praying, Peter was sleeping. When Christ was submitting as a lamb led to the slaughter, Peter was fighting. When Christ was confessing in suffering, Peter was denying Him with cursing and swearing. This is just the flesh: sleeping when it ought to be waking; in energy when it ought to be still; and then denying the Lord when the time of trial comes.

In divine faithfulness, Peter's denial stands side by side with the holy confession of our Lord. Nothing turned Christ aside from the purposes of His love — not the malice, not the blind prejudice, not the certainty of death at the hands of His enemies. The other was too weak to stand before the word of a servant girl. Three times he repeats his denial. But the crowing of the cock announces, at the darkest hour, that morning is coming, and Peter's tears are the first signs of a new day for him.

He was a debtor to grace from first to last. As a lost sinner, he was a debtor to "the precious blood of Christ"; as a stumbling saint, he was a debtor to the all-prevailing advocacy of Christ... No one is so fit to strengthen his brothers as the person who has himself experienced the restoring grace of Christ. Peter could stand before the people of Israel and say, "You denied the Holy and Righteous One" — the very thing he had done himself.

See how the boldness of nature leads a man into a situation where he is not in the way of grace, and he fails to his own sorrow and bitterness of heart! What business had he there if he were not one of them?

There he was, among the enemies of the Lord, far away from Jesus. No wonder Satan was too strong for him. And if we who belong to the Lord go among worldly people, trying to warm ourselves at the world's fire, we can only expect Satan to trip us up too.

The first step seemed a small one — merely brushing off the impertinence of a girl, when his testimony would do no good. It clearly was not the time, but the principle was all there. It seemed at the moment as if it made no difference to anyone whether he denied Him or not. He was simply avoiding the nosy intrusion of strangers when it did not suit him. So it often is in the world. They would have given no honour to Jesus if he had confessed Him — quite the opposite.

There was no willingness in Peter to sin; he wanted to do what he had told the Lord, but he was ignorant of his own weakness. Step by step he had approached this sad and sorrowful moment. He did not plunge suddenly into the outright denial of the Lord; he never meant to say what he said. Suppose someone had told him, "Peter, you are going to curse and swear, declaring, I do not know the man." He would have shuddered in horror and vowed he could never do such a thing... "Watch and pray," the Lord had said, "that you may not enter into temptation." Peter had slept; he had neglected prayer.

When the Lord warns Peter of his coming denial, Peter, in self-confidence, contradicts the Lord and boasts about his devotion. When, a little later, the Lord is watching and praying, Peter is sleeping. When, in front of His enemies, the Lord is silent, like a lamb before her shearers, Peter is actually striking with a sword. When the Lord is making the good confession before the high priest, Peter is denying the Lord in front of a mere servant girl.

The first denial was inside, and we must not think it was only the girl who spoke — the excited crowd all around joined in... It shows how far we may fall if God leaves us. There is nothing we should dread so much as being left to ourselves... God allows Satan sometimes to test us. As with Job, God has His hedge around every one of His saints... So with Peter. He allows the devil to test him, but He never hands a saint over into his power — never. If the Lord permits us to fall, He never orders it; He permits it.

"I have prayed for you." Do you think Peter forgot that?... He never forgot it in the hour of his need. I do not say in the hour when he wanted it. I do not say in the moment of his sin. But when the horror of the sin filled his soul with despair, these words would come back to him — and no doubt did, brought before his soul by God's Spirit. "I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail." And it did not. His faithfulness failed, but not his faith.

But his conscience will not let him stay with the people he has lied to. He goes out into the porch. Yet again the servant girl sees Peter, and says to those standing by, "This is one of them."

How little poor Peter gained by having the fire, and going out into the porch! It is no use.

Peter identified himself with the world. He is now ashamed to identify himself with a rejected Master. Look at him — and at yourself, too — in the priest's palace. A little girl can make him tremble. He is ashamed to confess that Holy One who was Himself making such a good confession.

As he goes out into the porch, another girl sees him and tells others that he had been with Jesus of Nazareth. But he had already lied about the matter, and human pride now found it too hard to stand for the truth. He denied it again, adding an oath for emphasis, no doubt hoping this would end the questioning.

Matthew leads us to judge that after the first denial Simon had moved away from the fire and gone to the porch. There "another" saw him and said, "This man was with Jesus of Nazareth." Mark says that after the first denial he went out into the porch, and there a servant girl — probably the same one who first attacked him — says, "This is one of them." … What seems to have happened is that many different accusers attacked the apostle, following him about the courtyard.

When Christ was praying, Peter was sleeping. When Christ was submitting as a lamb led to the slaughter, Peter was fighting. When Christ was confessing in suffering, Peter was denying Him with cursing and swearing. This is just the flesh: asleep when it ought to be awake; full of energy when it ought to be still; and then denying the Lord when the time of trial comes.

He did not plunge all at once into an outright denial of the Lord. He never meant to say what he said. Suppose someone had told him, "Peter, you are going to curse and swear, and say, I do not know the man." He would have shuddered in horror and vowed that he could never do such a thing.

Peter was a true believer, but he did not know what the flesh was. Many believers, sadly, are just as ignorant of the true nature of the flesh. There was no willingness in Peter to sin; he wanted to do what he had told the Lord, but he was ignorant of his own weakness. Step by step he had approached this sad and sorrowful moment. He did not plunge suddenly into the outright denial of the Lord; he never meant to say what he did say. Suppose someone had told him, "Peter, you are going to curse and swear, declaring, I do not know the man." He would have shuddered in horror and vowed he could never do such a thing.

But he had already lied about the matter. Human pride now found it too hard to stand for truth. So he denied again, adding an oath for emphasis, no doubt hoping this would end the questioning.

The more rash a man is in his speech, the more likely he is to strengthen what he says with an oath. Peter spoke very rashly when people linked him with Jesus the Galilean. He denied with an oath, "I do not know the man"; and at the third challenge he began to curse and swear. A man who submits his words and ways to the Spirit and word of God does not speak rashly.

This Gospel has an unquestionable design, and the account of the denial fits it. It brings to the front Jesus "the Galilean" (69) and "the Nazarene" (71) in the first and second denials, and the third denial hints at the same about Peter (73). No other Gospel brings out in this way the Messiah disowned by His own disciple, and disowned at the weak words of women. Mark does so, but for another reason.

The Lord warns Peter of his coming denial. Peter, full of self-confidence, contradicts the Lord and boasts about his devotion. A little later the Lord is watching and praying, and Peter is sleeping. The Lord stands silent before His enemies, like a lamb before her shearers, and Peter is the one striking with a sword. The Lord is making the good confession before the high priest, and Peter is denying Him before a simple servant girl.

It is very important to remember, and we learn it clearly here, that sincerity is not enough to keep us right. It is only a human quality! We need as well the Lord's strength against the schemes of the devil and the fear of the world. If the Lord is not there, a young girl can upset an apostle. The fear of man is a dreadful snare for the soul, and this fear worked mightily in Peter's heart.

Over this sad scene of failure and denial was the gracious, loving, praying Lord. Peter was His own; he could not go the way Judas went. He had foreseen it all. Before it happened, He told Peter what he would do. He told him how Satan's power, joined to the flesh, would lead to his denial. But more than that, the Lord had prayed for him. "I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail." Where would Peter have been if it had not been for that prayer of the Lord?

The Galileans probably had a different way of pronouncing words. Or the language spoken in Galilee was not as refined as the speech of Jerusalem. Either way, Peter's own speech gave him away. Matt. 26:69, 73; Mark 14:70. But the voice of that same Peter, under the power of God, was mighty on the day of Pentecost. His hearers even said, "Are not all these who are speaking Galileans?" Acts 2:7.

In the first Gospel, Matthew, the Spirit traces the Lord as Emmanuel, Jehovah-Messiah, but rejected by the Jewish nation... This is beyond question the design of the Gospel. In keeping with it, notice how the account of the denial highlights Jesus as "the Galilean" (verse 69) and "the Nazarene" (verse 71) in the first and second denials. The third denial implies the same about Peter (verse 73). No other Gospel, apart from Mark for another reason, brings out so clearly the Messiah disowned by His own disciple.

As for the third denial, Matthew (Matt. 26:73-75) shows that many had a hand in the attack on the already bewildered Simon. They pressed home their charge that he belonged with Jesus, and they pointed to his Galilean accent... John (John 18:25-27) mentions the crowd attacking Peter. He adds that one of the high priest's servants recognised him — a relative of Malchus, whose ear Peter had cut off in the garden. Peter's own action in the flesh there helped to expose him at this moment... These were powerful enemies to face, but it was Peter's own earlier condition that really made him their victim. John, who kept near to Jesus, came through unharmed.

What company for an apostle of Christ!... It is very dangerous for a Christian to sit down among the enemies of Christ. The very fact that he does so proves that decline has set in and made serious progress. In Peter's case the stages of decline stand out clearly. First, boasting in his own strength. Second, sleeping when he should have been praying. Third, drawing his sword when he should have been humbly bowing his head. Fourth, following at a distance. Fifth, making himself comfortable among the open enemies of Christ.

Peter was a true believer, yet he did not know what the flesh was. Sadly, so many believers are ignorant of the true nature of the flesh. There was no willingness in Peter to sin; he wanted to do what he had told the Lord, but he was ignorant of his own weakness... He never meant to say what he said... "Watch and pray," the Lord had said, "that you may not enter into temptation." Peter had slept; he had neglected prayer.

The day a saint falls is the day he stops being afraid of falling. As long as that fear is in the heart, God keeps the feet.

If a saint of God is walking in obedience, walking with his Lord, no one should need to ask such questions. They should be plain to everyone. May our hearts long to say: "Oh, that it might be said of me, surely your speech betrays you, as a friend of Christ of Galilee."

As Peter saw the net of evidence with its fine meshes closing in around him, his denials became more violent. First came a pretence that he did not understand. Second, a flat denial. Third, a declaration that he did not even know the Lord, along with curses and swearing.

No doubt they teased him, asking him again and again if he were not one of His disciples. At last Peter denied with oaths and cursing that he had ever known the Lord. Poor Peter! Old habits come back easily. Fishermen and sailors are known as great swearers, and what was probably Simon's style of language by the Sea of Galilee, before the Lord called him, comes out again now.

Peter was certainly searched in the high priest's palace, and the wicked way in him came to the surface… It is a terrible thing for any man to lie; but how much worse for a disciple of Him who is the Truth to keep on lying! And to try to prop up his lies with oaths and curses, taking the name of God in vain!

When the Lord warns Peter of his coming denial, Peter, in self-confidence, contradicts the Lord and boasts in his devotedness. When, a little later, the Lord is watching and praying, Peter is sleeping. When, in the presence of His enemies the Lord is silent, like a lamb before her shearers, Peter is actually striking with a sword. When the Lord is witnessing the good confession before the high priest, Peter is denying the Lord before a simple maid.

The rooster crowed, just as the Lord had said. The whole thing was the result of lack of prayer and watching. Had he watched and prayed, he would have got strength for the temptation.

It is a lasting warning against self-sufficiency in any of us. "Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall" (1 Cor. 10:12). What Peter did yesterday, both reader and writer may do tomorrow, unless held up by infinite grace… In Gethsemane, in front of armed men, where there seemed to be real danger, Peter was bold enough. But later, in front of servant girls, where there does not appear to have been any danger at all, Peter was cowardice itself.

Here we have two things, the crow and the look. How do you interpret them? They are symbols of very different things, but two things we must all have to do with: conscience and Christ. The crow awakened his conscience; the look placed him with Jesus.

But it was the Lord's look at Peter, and the memory of His words, that gave the sound all its force in conscience and heart. The Holy Spirit brought the look and words of the Saviour home where there was life towards God… Now in bitter grief he learns himself in a humbling way, and he learns what the world is in its highest religious pretensions.

He did not pray that Peter might not fall, but that, having fallen, his confidence might not give way, his faith might not fail. So too He pleads for us, and so we are sustained, and so we are restored when we fall.

Yet, while His own people, high and low, were rejecting and insulting Him, Jesus made poor Peter remember His mighty word. Peter was now bold in denying Him with cursing and swearing. "And he went out and wept bitterly." Oh, what a servant! What a Lord!

The look of the Lord brought back the word of the Lord. We read, "Peter remembered the word of the Lord." The look of the Lord broke his heart. The word of the Lord reached his conscience, so that he "went out and wept bitterly." Judas "went out into the night" — the eternal night of blank despair. Peter "went out" in deep repentance on the way to restoration. He "went out" because his awakened conscience would no longer allow him to continue in false associations. He wept bitterly because the unchanging love of the Lord had reached his heart.

I do not say that his repentance was complete; the Lord touched him to the quick some time later. Still, there was genuine feeling of his sin, shame, and anguish of spirit, though he had not yet been probed to the bottom. It is always the word of the Lord that produces real repentance, whether in a saint or a sinner. It is not human feeling, nor shame, nor the fear of being found out — it is the word that Jesus spoke, working within. It is the washing of water by the word. The word of the Lord does two things: it convicts and it heals; it cleanses as well as detects our evil in a divine way. Had Peter believed Christ's word about his own complete weakness, he would have been kept. But he did not believe it.

Repentance did its proper work in his soul, as he saw his folly and sin in the light of his Lord's love. Here is the difference between repentance and remorse. Repentance is the judgment of my sin that I have in the light of love, and grace known. Remorse comes from viewing the sin only in the light of its probable results. Repentance gives birth to hope. Remorse leads only to despair… The last thing Peter had done was to deny his Master, and the next thing his Master did was to die for Peter.

If we notice all that Christ did, we shall see how He was watching over Peter at this time. His grace, so to speak, went out to meet him and took care of him right through the temptation… It is not that Peter's repentance led to Jesus' intercession; the intercession of Jesus brought about Peter's repentance. "I have prayed for you," and "Jesus looked on Peter."

The Lord did not say, "I have prayed for you that you may not fall." No — but "that your faith may not fail" when you have fallen. Precious, matchless grace! This was Peter's resource. He was a debtor to grace from first to last.

Peter was tempted to self-confidence; he presumed on his own strength. When he insisted on standing alone, Christ let him fall. But this worked for his good — it cost him many tears… And now he grows more modest. He did not dare say he loved Christ more than the other apostles… His fall broke the neck of his pride.

Only then, when truly restored, would Peter be able to strengthen his brothers. Only then could he deal with the hearts and consciences of others. Ministry is only carried on in self-judgment. Nothing Peter had learned before this could have made him fit to be a blessing to others. What fitted him for it was the knowledge of grace, and that began with what he had to go through about his own utter unworthiness.