And behold, one of those with Jesus stretched out his hand and drew his sword, and smiting the bondman of the high priest took off his ear.
Jesus is being arrested in the garden of Gethsemane when one of His followers draws a sword and cuts off a man's ear. Commentators read the moment as a mirror: it shows what loyal love does when it acts without direction from the Lord.
Matthew does not name the man with the sword, and does not report the ear being healed. One writer fills in the first gap and explains the second:
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.
The same man had been asleep an hour before. One writer lines up the scenes:
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.
Real love for his Master drove the blow. That is what makes it worth a close look, because the same failure repeats in people who mean well:
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.
A sword drawn in someone's defence says that person is helpless. That is the insult hidden inside a good intention:
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.
Under the law, the sword had its place. One writer traces the disciple's mistake to a change in God's ways:
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!
The blow had a result Peter never planned. In the high priest's hall, a relative of the wounded man was standing there:
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.
- Sleeping — Peter slept through the hour of prayer. Energy that skips time with God wakes up late and strikes in the wrong direction.
- Striking — the love was real, the knowledge was missing. Zeal can be right about its object and wrong about every method it picks.
- Belittling — a disciple's sword makes the Master look too weak to stand alone. He yielded to God, not to men.
- Contrasting — law and the sword suited each other. Grace and the sword do not, and the healed ear says so louder than the blow.
- Reaping — in the high priest's hall the wounded man's relative recognised Peter. Acting without a word from the Lord costs more than it defends.
Then saith Jesus to him, Return thy sword to its place; for all who take the sword shall perish by the sword.
Peter's blow in the garden was brave, loyal, and completely wrong. His answer disarms His own disciple, and it sets a rule for anyone who picks up the world's weapons for God's cause.
One writer notes that Peter's zeal made his Master look small.
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.
The weapon clashed with the Man beside it.
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.
Matthew records the order and the reason, but not the healing of the ear that Luke gives.
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 Lord's words reach past that one night.
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.
The Lord was not helpless that night. Scripture, not weakness, kept Him there.
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.
Commentators see this word as settling how the kingdom now advances.
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).
One writer narrows down who the Lord was speaking to.
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.
Taking the sword from the disciple is not the same as taking it from the magistrate.
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).
- Sword drawn — Peter's blow came from real love. But it treated the Lord as someone who needed a fisherman's blade to save Him.
- Sword sheathed — the command is a royal one. Matthew shows His authority over the scene, not the mercy that healed the ear.
- Sword returns — the warning holds at all times. Whoever takes up the weapons of the flesh falls under them.
- Sword refused — He could have called angels. But Scripture had marked out the path, and He took the place of the obedient Lamb.
- Sword relocated — God still puts a sword in the magistrate's hand to punish evil. What He removed was the sword as a way to advance His kingdom.
Or thinkest thou that I cannot now call upon my Father, and he will furnish me more than twelve legions of angels?
Peter's sword flashed in the dark of Gethsemane, and the Lord stopped him with a question. If armies of angels stood ready, why was He taken at all?
Peter's loyalty was real. One writer weighs his sword against what the Father could have sent instead.
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?
The number is not a figure of speech. One writer works out what such a force could do.
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 soldiers thought they had taken Him by force. One writer shows what really held Him there.
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.
That right to angelic help also fits the way this Gospel presents Him:
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.
The Lord says He could call on His Father. He never does. One writer names what held Him back.
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.
Another writer traces that silence back to the agony He had just been through with His Father:
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.
The power was real. But the battle He came for was not the one in that garden.
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.
What the Lord refused sets the pattern for those who belong to Him:
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.
- Power — Armies of angels were His by right. The arrest showed His restraint, not His weakness.
- Belittled — Peter's sword offered twelve frail men. The Father would have given more than twelve legions.
- Refused — The legions would have come at a word. He never spoke it. Scripture, not self-defence, ruled His heart.
- Alone — His battle was against sin, and in that conflict no angel and no disciple could stand with Him.
- Ours — He chose submission over force. His followers walk the same road.
How then should the scriptures be fulfilled that thus it must be?
In Gethsemane, Peter's sword is drawn and a crowd is closing in. Jesus explains why He will not call for the rescue waiting at His word. His reason is not weakness but Scripture: the written word said it had to happen this way, and that settled it.
The Greek word behind "must" carries the weight of necessity fixed by God, not a strong preference.
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.
Jesus had already answered Satan with a written text. Here the same word settles His last hour.
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.
He pointed to more than one prediction, and to more than the cross.
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.
The help on offer was real, and vast. One writer measures it against a night when a single angel acted.
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.
Angels were beside the point because the enemy in front of Him was not the arresting party.
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.
If He had prayed that prayer, the Father would have answered it — and redemption would have stopped there.
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.
The path He took here does not end with 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.
- Must. The word means necessity fixed by God — what His will and word have already settled.
- Written. God had put it on record in Moses, the prophets and the Psalms — His death and His coming glory alike.
- Available. More than twelve legions stood ready. One angel once struck down 185,000, so this was never about lack of power.
- Alone. He came to fight sin, not soldiers, and no army could join Him in that conflict.
- Costly. Rescue would have left redemption unfinished. The road He kept is the road He hands to His followers.