3385. The Saviour’s Thirst

A Sermon Published On Thursday, December 18, 1913.

After this, Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, so that the Scripture might be fulfilled, says, “I thirst.” {Joh 19:28}

For other sermons on this text:

   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 1409, “Shortest of the Seven Cries, The” 1400}

   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3385, “Saviour’s Thirst, The” 3387}

   Exposition on Joh 19:1-37 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3123, “King of the Jews, The” 3124 @@ "Exposition"}

   Exposition on Joh 19:14-37 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3279, “Ever This Our War Cry — Victory, Victory!” 3281 @@ "Exposition"}

   Exposition on Joh 19:23-37 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3311, “Water and the Blood, The” 3313 @@ "Exposition"}

   Exposition on Lu 23:33-46 Joh 19:25-30 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2263, “Christ’s Plea for Ignorant Sinners” 2264 @@ "Exposition"}

1. The early Christians were accustomed to think and talk far more about our Saviour than we do. Some of them were, perhaps, not quite so clear on justification by faith as they ought to have been, but they were very clear about the merits of the precious blood, and if they did not always speak very clearly about the doctrines of grace, they spoke with wonderful power and savour about the “five” wounds — about the nail-marks and the spear-wound. I could wish that our religion would go back somewhat more to that personal apprehension of Christ than it does, By all means let us have dogmatic teaching, presenting those most precious truths that are our consolation; but better than everything else is the person of Christ himself — the Way, the Truth, and the Life. We should do well if we more often stood in meditation at the foot of the cross and viewed his wounds, counted the precious drops as they fall, and sought fellowship with him in his sufferings. Some of those early saints wrote long treatises on the solitary wounds of Jesus; many of them passed whole days in contemplation of some minute part of his passion. We cannot imitate them in this respect; we do not have the leisure; I am afraid we do not have the mental concentration they possessed. Nevertheless, let us explore the sacred mystery as best we can. At this time we would go away to Calvary, and there stand and hear our Redeemer crying, “I thirst,” as he bears the guilt of sin for us.

2. Very briefly we shall regard the text, first, as our Saviour’s cry, and as only such; secondly, we shall consider its relationship to us; and thirdly, and sorrowfully, its relationship to ungodly men.

3. I. First, then, we will: — CONSIDER THIS CRY OF OUR SAVIOUR — “I thirst.”

4. Is it not clear proof that he was certainly man? Certain heretics sprang up in the early Church who asserted that the body of our Lord was only a phantom; that as God he was here, but as Man he only revealed himself to the outward sense, and did not actually exist in flesh and blood. But he thirsts. Now, a spirit does not have thirst. A spirit neither eats nor drinks; it is immaterial, and does not know the needs that belong to this poor flesh and blood. We may, therefore, rest assured that “the Word was made flesh and lived among us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the Only Begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth”

5. No better proof could we have of the substantiality of his manhood than the cry, “I thirst.” In any case, we can sympathize with him in this. From the moment when he rose from the Last Supper, saying, “I will not drink after this from this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom” — from that moment he had had no further refreshment, either of food or of drink. Yet well he needed drink, for all through that long night in Gethsemane he sweat — we know what kind of sweat — as it were great drops of blood falling to the ground. Such toil as his might well have needed refreshment. Then he was hurried away to Caiaphas, and afterwards to Pilate. He had to encounter the accusations of his enemies, and he had to put a strong bridle on himself, that, like a sheep before her shearers, he might be dumb. There was a strain on his system such as none of us ever have had to endure, or ever shall have, a strain such as we can never imagine, and yet not one morsel of bread, nor one drop of water crossed those blessed and parched lips. Well might he cry, “I thirst,” when, after so many hours of wrestling with the powers of darkness, he was now about to die! You remember, also, the particular way in which our Lord was put to death. The piercing of the hands and the feet was sure to bring on fever. Those members, though far remote from the vital parts, are still full of the most delicate and tender nerves, and pain soon travels along them until the whole body becomes hot with burning fever. Our Lord’s own words in the twenty-second Psalm will occur to you: “My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaves to my jaws; and you have brought me into the dust of death.” Those of you who have been afflicted with fever far less serious than this, will remember how it parched you like a potsherd, and dried up all the juices of your system and all the moisture of your body like the parched fields of summer. You then had a thirst, indeed; but your Saviour had a double reason for thirst — long fasting without food, or drink, and then the bitter pangs of death. Sympathize with him then, beloved, and remember that all this was for you, and for you as his enemies, for you as if there were no others in the world. Though he suffered for all his elect, yet especially for each one of his people were the nails driven, for each one he thirsted, and for each one he took a draught of the vinegar and the gall. Come, then, and kiss those blessed lips, and bow before your Saviour in reverent praise!

6. Further, my brethren, we are quite certain that our Lord, in saying, “I thirst,” must have felt the extreme bitterness of thirst. He was no complainer. You never heard a word come from his lips when it might have been withheld. He must have been driven to dire extremity indeed when he proclaimed to friends and foes that he was thirsting for a drop of water. Some have said that this cry, “I thirst,” coming, as it does, after the far more bitter and awful cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” was an evidence of a turn in the Saviour’s conflict; that during all the first part of our Saviour’s suffering he was taken up with such anxious thought, and with such internal anguish, that he could not think of the thirst, which, grievous as it was, was only a minor pain in comparison with what he felt when his Father in justice turned his face away from him, but that now he begins to collect his thoughts for a while, and is able to fight with his own personal bodily pains. It may be so. Possibly that cry was an indication that the battle had turned, and that victory was coming to the suffering hero. But, ah! brethren, however there may have come a gleam of sunshine in this cry across the blacker darkness, you can never dream what a thirst that was that parched the Saviour’s mouth and lips. You will never feel such a thirst as he felt to its direst extent. Cold, and hunger, and nakedness, and thirst may fall to your lot, but there was more of grief in his thirst than you can ever know. There was a bitterness here which my language cannot possibly bring out.

7. Another thought rises up in my mind — I will not mislead you here. I feel thankful to our Lord for saying, “I thirst!” Ah! brethren, sometimes when we are severely afflicted, or have a little infirmity, perhaps not anything vital or mortal, though it pains us much, we complain, or at least we say, “I thirst.” Now, are we wrong in doing so? Ought we to play the stoic? Ought we to be like the Hindu Indian at the stake, who sings while he is roasting? Ought we to be like St. Lawrence on the gridiron? Is stoicism a part of Christianity? Oh, no! but Jesus said, “I thirst,” and by this he gave permission to all of you who are bowed down with your griefs and your sorrows to whisper them into the ears of those who watch by the bed, and to say, “I thirst.” I daresay you have often felt ashamed of yourselves for this. You have said, “Now, if I had some huge trouble, or if the pangs I suffered were absolutely mortal, I could lean on the Beloved’s arm; but as for this ache, or this pain, it courses through my body and causes me much anguish, though it does not kill me.” Well, but just as Jesus wept so that he might let you weep on account of your sorrows and your griefs, so he says, “I thirst,” so that you might have permission patiently, as he did, to express your little complaints, that you might not think he sneers at you, or looks down on you as though you were an alien, that you might know he sympathizes with you in it all.

8. He does not use language like that of Cassius when he laughed at Caesar because he was sick, and said: — 

   And when the fit was on him I did mark

   How he did shake: ’tis true this god did shake:

   His coward lips did from their colour fly;

   And that same eye whose head doth awe the world

   Did lose its lustre: I did hear him groan:

   Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans

   Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,

   Alas! it cried, “Give me some drink, Titinius,”

   As a sick girl.

And why should it not? He was only a man; he was only “as a sick girl,” and what is there in a sick girl to despise, after all? Jesus Christ said, “I thirst,” and in this he says to every sick girl, and every sick child, and every sick one throughout the world, “The Master, who is now in heaven, but who once suffered on earth, does not despise the tears of the sufferers, but has pity on them on their beds of sickness.”

9. Jesus says, “I thirst.” Since our Lord uses these words may I ask you for a minute to contemplate it with wonder? Who was this who said, “I thirst”? Do you not know that it was he who balanced the clouds, and who filled the channels of the mighty deep? He said, “I thirst,” and yet in him was a well of water springing up to everlasting life! Yes, he who guided every river in its course, and watered all the fields with grateful showers — he it was, the King of kings, and Lord of lords, before whom hell trembles, and the earth is filled with dismay; he whom heaven adores, and all eternity worships — it was he who said, “I thirst!” Matchless condescension — from the infinity of God to the weakness of a thirsting, dying man! And this, again I must remind you, was for you. He who suffered for you was no common mortal, no ordinary man, such as you are, but the perfect and ever-blessed God, high above all principalities and powers, and every name that is named. It was he who, with this condescending lowness of state, stooped and cried, as you have done, “I thirst!”

10. Once more, in this cry of our Lord, “I thirst,” I think I see a trace of the atonement which he was then offering. The pangs of Christ on the cross are to be regarded as a substitution for the sins and sorrows of ungodly men: —— 

   He bore that we might never bear

   His Father’s righteous ire.

Now, brethren, a part of the punishment of the wicked in hell is the deprivation of every form of comfort. Man refused to obey his Creator — the time will come when the Creator will refuse to help man. Man refused to minister to God — the time will come when God’s creatures will not minister to man. Remember those solemn words of the Master when he said that the rich man was without a drop of water to cool his tongue, and was tormented in the flame; and yet the water was withheld from coming near the sinner who had died in wilful rebellion against God. Oh! my dear friends, if we had our due, we should have none of the comforts of life; the very air would refuse to yield us breath, and bread, the staff of life, to yield us nourishment; yes, we should find the whole creation up in arms against us, because we are up in arms against God. The time shall come when those who stand up against the Most High shall find no comfort left for them, and no hope for comfort; everything that can make existence tolerable shall be withdrawn, and everything that can make it intolerable shall be poured on them; for on the wicked, God shall rain snares of fire and brimstone, and a horrible tempest; this shall be the portion of their cup. Behold, then, when Emmanuel stood for us and suffered in our place, he too must thirst; he must be deprived of every comfort, stripped naked to the last rag, and hung up on the cross, as though earth rejected him, and heaven would not receive him. Midway between the two worlds he dies in the most abject poverty, and because of our sin he cries, “I thirst!” Beloved, never seek for companionship with any who would ignore the miseries of the Lord, for, depend on it, in that proportion they lessen the glory of the atonement. If it is only a light thing for the sinner to rebel against God, it was not a light thing for Christ to redeem him. It covered Christ with the greatest lustre, for, after all, it stands out as one of his most resplendent works that he has redeemed us from going down into the pit, having found a ransom for us. By so much the greater the love, by so much the greater is the salvation. Do not think lightly of sin and its punishment, lest you come to think lightly of Christ, and what he suffered to redeem you from your guilt. The cry, “I thirst,” is part of the substitutionary work which Christ performed when he thirsted, because, otherwise, sinners must have thirsted for ever, and have been denied all the pleasure, and joy, and peace of heaven.

11. The meditation on this cry as proceeding from our Lord invites one more remark. Will it be straining the text too far if we say that underlying those words, “I thirst,” there is something more than a mere thirst for drink? Once, when he sat on the well of Samaria, he said to the poor prostitute who met him there, “Give me a drink,” and he got a drink from her — drink that the world knew nothing about, when she gave her heart to him, obedient to his gospel. Christ is always thirsting after the salvation of precious souls, and that cry on the cross that pierced all who listened to it was the outburst of the great heart of Jesus Christ as he saw the multitude, and he cried to his God, “I thirst.” He thirsted to redeem mankind, he thirsted to accomplish the work of our salvation. This very day he still thirsts in that respect, since he is still willing to receive those who come to him, still resolved that such as come shall never be cast out, and still desirous that they may come. Oh! poor souls, you do not thirst for Christ, but you little know how he thirsts for you. There is love in his heart towards those who have no love for him. Christ would not have you die, Christ would not have you cast into hell. Give yourselves up, then, to the gentle sway of him who for your souls’ good said, “I thirst.” Oh! I wish that all we who love Christ knew more about this hungering and thirsting after the redemption of our follow men. May the Lord teach us to sympathize with them. If he wept for sinners, may our cheeks never be dry. He was in anguish for their souls, and we will not restrain our anguish, because they will not be saved, but ignorantly, carelessly, or resolutely despise the gospel of Christ.

12. II. So much on this point, so far as it concerns our Lord himself. Do not turn away your eyes, but look and listen as he cries, “I thirst.” Very briefly, now let us notice: — OUR RELATIONSHIP AND OUR BEARING TOWARDS THIS CRY.

13. I shall address myself on this point to the people of God, and the first remark is this — Brethren, because Jesus Christ said, “I thirst,” you and I are delivered from that terrible thirst which once devoured us. We were awakened by the Holy Spirit, some of us, years ago, to perceive our danger. We had not known before what sin was — what a destroying fever it was. We had cherished it in our heart, but when we began to discover our desperate position, we were constrained to thirst and cry for mercy. With some of us our thirst was very great; we could scarcely sleep, and as for our meals, we left them untouched often in the agony of our despair. I remember how my soul chose strangling rather than life; it seemed so hard to live under the frown of God, awakened to a sense of sin, but unable to get rid of the sin. Now at this moment that thirst has gone, for we have received the adoption, the salvation, the forgiveness. You came to Jesus as you were with all your thirst, and you stooped down and drank from the crystal stream. And now you rejoice with unspeakable joy because your thirst is gone. Oh! clap your hands for very joy at the memory of it. Be humble that you should need his thirst to save you from thirst, but oh! be glad to think that the work is done, and that you shall never thirst again as you did then, for “he who drinks,” says Christ, “the water that I shall give him shall never thirst, for it shall be in him a well of water springing up to everlasting life.” Your insatiable desires are satisfied; the horse-leech within you that cried, “Give, give,” is satiated at last; the cravings of conscience that had been awakened by the love of God are satisfied. Now, oh! joy! your sorrow is over, your peace like a river has come, and your righteousness is like the waves of the sea. Live happily, live joyfully; tell to others what Christ has done for you. Do not eat your morsel alone, but proclaim to the world that through the thirst of a dying Saviour you have ceased to thirst.

14. And since you are finished with that first thirst of bitter agony, now seek to be filled with another thirst — a thirst for more of Christ. Oh! that sweet wine of his love is very thirst creating; those who have once tasted it want more of it. Thirst for a closer walk with him, thirst to know more of him, thirst to be more like him, thirst to understand more the mystery of his sufferings, and to be more full of anticipation of his blessed advent: — 

   “Nearer, my God, to thee; nearer to thee.”

May this be your cry. Open your mouth wide, for he will fill it; enlarge your desires, for he will satisfy them all. Be eager for more of Christ; hunger and thirst for more of righteousness. All your desires shall be supplied to you; do not, therefore, stint yourself by narrowing them. Oh! that you could ask more from him, for: — 

   All your capacious powers can ask,

   In Christ doth richly meet.

Were your imagination to stretch her wings and soar ever so far beyond the narrow bounds of space, she must weary long before she reached the fulness of God which dwells bodily in our Lord Jesus Christ.

15. Let me also invite you to cultivate another thirst — a thirst like what we read our Lord thirsted with — for the conversion of our souls. Give us only a score of men who hunger and thirst for the conversion of others, and we shall see good work done. But oh! we are so cold, and callous, and sleeping, though men are perishing every day. Behold the mass of people gathered in this Tabernacle! We can never all meet again. Some of us will probably be in eternity before another Sabbath shall have dawned, and of those who shall have departed this life, some will, perhaps, have gone down to the pit. And yet we have no tears for them! Oh! God, strike our hearts with a rod more powerful than that of Moses, and fill our eyes with sympathetic tears! Think what it is that your own child should be lost, that your own relative should perish! Oh! wake yourselves up to passionate prayer, and to longing desire, and to constant effort, and never from this moment cease to thirst with a passionate desire, which, like that of your Lord, shall fill you, and compel you practically to say, in the industrious application of a spiritual life, “I thirst.”

16. III. My last word is a very heavy one. I could wish it would not have to be delivered. It is addressed: — TO UNGODLY MEN AND WOMEN.

17. If the Lord Jesus Christ thirsted when he only carried the sins of others, what thirst will you have when God shall punish you for your own sins? Either Christ must thirst for you, or you mush thirst for ever, and ever, and ever. There is only one alternative. Justice must be vindicated through a substitute, or it must be glorified in your everlasting destruction. Think what it will be to have your sweet cup and your flowing bowl all taken away from you, and not a drop of water to cool your tongue; to have your dainty food and your carefree festivals for ever abolished — no light for your eyes, no joy for any one of the senses of your body, and your souls made to suffer unutterable woe!

18. I shall not stop to picture, even in Christ’s own words, the agony of lost spirits. But I tell you to keep this in your minds: if Christ, who was God’s Son, suffered so bitterly for sins that were not his own, how bitterly must you, who are not God’s sons, but God’s enemies, suffer for sins that are your own? And you must suffer like this unless Christ, the substitute, stands for you. He was no substitute for everyone, but only for his own people. You say to me, “Did he stand for me?” I can tell you if you can answer this question, “Do you trust Jesus Christ? Will you now trust him?” If so, a simple childlike faith in Jesus will bring you salvation. Now, remember, if you believe, all your sins are laid on Christ, and therefore they can never be laid on you. If you believe, Christ was punished in your place, and you can never be punished, because he was punished for you. Substitution — this is the foundation of our confidence. Because he was accursed we cannot be accursed, for, if we believe in him, all that he suffered was for us, and we stand absolved before the judgment seat of Christ. May the Lord give you this simple faith in the Redeemer this very night, and then he will see in you the travail of his soul, and the thirst of his great heart will be satisfied. May the Lord bless you. Amen.

Expositions By C. H. Spurgeon {Ps 51; 32; Mt 26:59-68 Lu 23:1-16}

Let us read two Psalms of penitence. Repentance, and faith go hand in hand all the way to heaven. Repenting and believing make up a large measure of the Christian life.

First, let us read the fifty-first Psalm, penned by David after his great sin with Bathsheba, when, by the instrumentality of Nathan, he had been led to repentance. What if we have not fallen into any gross open sin. Yet, maybe, if we could see our hearts, as God sees them, we should be as much ashamed as the psalmist was when to the music of his sighs and groans, he poured out this Psalm.

1. Have mercy on me, oh God, according to your lovingkindness, according to the multitude of your tender mercies blot out my transgressions.

What delightful words those are! “Your lovingkindness.” I have sometimes felt glad to be a Saxon, that I should speak a language that had such delightful words in it. “Lovingkindness,” “tender mercy.” Now, the eye that is sharpest to see the tenderness of God is the eye of repentance, for the sinner who feels condemnation in his own heart looks so keenly after everything that may make for his comfort, and his eye lights on the tender mercies and lovingkindness of God. The prayer is for pardon; indeed, it is for purification, as well as pardon.

2. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.

Take out this plague-spot. I cannot bear it any longer. Oh! cleanse me from every trace of it, my God, I beseech you.

3. For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is always before me.

I tell it to you because it haunts me. It is always present in my mind. It seems painted on my eyelids. I cannot avoid seeing it, turn whichever way I may.

4. Against you, you only, have I sinned, and done this evil in your sight: so that you might be justified when you speak, and be clear when you judge.

He had sinned against his people, setting them a bad example — sinned against Bathsheba and Uriah; but he sees the whole evil concentrating itself, as it were, on his God. He felt that the virus of the whole thing was that he had done dishonour to the name of the Most High, whose servant he was.

5-7. Behold, I was born in iniquity; and in sin my mother conceived me. Behold, you desire truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part you shall make me to know wisdom. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

“Behold,” he says, as if to go to the bottom of it, and to show that sin was not an accident with him, but that he himself was sinful. It was a grand faith — it was an Abrahamic faith — that when a man had such a sense of sin as David had, he at the same time could believe in the cleansing power of the blood. For you do not know what sin is, and who have never groaned beneath the burden, to talk about the pardoning blood — oh! it is easy enough, and there is nothing in it; but for a soul that knows the guilt and feels it, and is burdened by it, still to believe in the power of the atoning sacrifice — this is faith indeed. David had seen the priest take the bunch of hyssop and dip it in the warm blood of the goat or the young bull, and then sprinkle it; and he says, “Lord, do the same with me — with that richer blood of divine atonement” — that blood which, in David’s day, was yet to be shed. “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.”

8-10. Make me to hear joy and gladness; so that the bones which you have broken may rejoice. Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, oh God; and renew a right spirit within me.

Lord, the mischief lies deep. Strike at the root of it. I would not have you to wash out a spot only, but go to my heart and renew that, so that I may sin no more.

11-14. Do not cast me away from your presence; and do not take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation; and uphold me with your free Spirit. Then I will teach transgressors your ways; and sinners shall be converted to you. Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, oh God, you God of my salvation: and my tongue shall sing aloud of your righteousness.

In that verse there is one of the best signs of David’s sincere repentance, namely, that he calls his sin by its proper name — “bloodguiltiness.” I have no doubt that he had said to himself that Uriah died by accident, and pleaded very much to excuse and extenuate his guilt. But now he acknowledges what it really is. That is the word — “bloodguiltiness.” It is no use trying to apologise and excuse yourselves before God. As long as that is done, no pardon will ever be applied to the conscience; but when the sin is seen in its true colours, then those colours shall be washed away, and we shall be whiter than snow. “Then I will teach transgressors your ways.” He felt that if God would pardon him, he would be the man to tell about God’s way of mercy to others. And I trust, dear friends, if we have tasted that the Lord is gracious, our witness will never be silent about the goodness and the mercy of the Lord. If you have never spoken to others, begin tonight. Teach others the ways of God with you.

15-19. Oh Lord open my lips; and my mouth shall proclaim your praise. For you do not desire sacrifice; otherwise I would give it: you do not delight in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, oh God, you will not despise. Do good in your good pleasure to Zion: build the walls of Jerusalem. Then you shall be pleased with the sacrifices of righteousness, with burnt offering and whole burnt offering: then they shall offer young bulls on your altar.

There are sure to be good times when men are under a sense of pardoned sin. None serve him so well as those whose sins are washed away — who feel the same within.

Now, we will read the thirty-second Psalm.

1-5. Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man to whom the LORD does not impute iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile. When I kept silence, my bones grew old through my roaring all the day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me: my moisture is turned into the drought of summer. Selah. I acknowledged my sin to you, and I have not hidden my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD”; and you forgave the iniquity of my sin. Selah.

It is soon over. Once poured into Jehovah’s ear out of a contrite heart, and the transgression was gone for ever. May it be so with you, dear hearer. If your sin has never been forgiven you until tonight, may you tonight obtain pardon through confession of sin.

6, 7. For this shall everyone who is godly pray to you in a time when you may be found: surely in the floods of great waters they shall not come near him. You are my hiding-place; you shall preserve me from trouble; you shall surround me with songs of deliverance. Selah.

Now turn to Matthew 26.

59, 60. Now the chief priests, and elders, and all the council, sought false witness against Jesus, to put him to death; but found none:

Neither for love nor money.

60. Yes, though many false witnesses came, yet they found none.

That is, none who agreed; the lie that one man spoke was refuted by the next.

61. At last two false witness came and said, “This — 

They did not say any other word, as if they did not know any word in any language vile enough for him. “This”; our translators have very properly put in the word fellow.

61. Fellow said, ‘I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days.’”

He never said anything of the kind; it was a most wicked misrepresentation of what he had said. If men wish to find an accusation against us, they can do it without any materials.

62-64. And the high priest arose and said to him, “Do you answer nothing? What is it which these witness against you?” But Jesus held his peace. And the high priest answered and said to him, “I implore you by the living God, tell us whether you are the Christ, the Son of God.” Jesus says to him, “You have said: nevertheless I say to you. Hereafter you shall see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.”

He remands them to a higher court to make their appearance before him when he becomes the judge, and they shall take the place of the criminal.

65, 66, Then the high priest tore his clothes, saying, “He has spoken blasphemy; what further need do we have of witnesses? Behold, now you have heard his blasphemy, what do you think?”

He looks around on the seventy elders of the people who were sitting there in the great council, and “They answered and said, ‘He is guilty of death.’” Probably Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus were not there; they were the only two friends the Lord had in the Sanhedrin.

66-68. They answered and said, “He is guilty of death.” Then they spat in his face, and buffeted him; and others struck him with the palms of their hands, saying, “Prophesy to us, you Christ, who is he who struck you?”

This ended the regular ecclesiastical trial of Christ. A little time was spent, before Pilate, the judicial ruler, was ready to see Christ, but soon as the dawn was come, they dragged him before another tribunal.

We shall now turn to Luke 23.

1, 2. And the whole multitude of them arose, and led him to Pilate. And they began to accuse him saying, “We found this — 

Put in whatever word you like — villain — scoundrel — our translators could not find a better word than that inexpressive — expressive word “fellow.” “We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Caesar, saying that he himself is Christ, a King.” Now they change the charge, you see; before, it was blasphemy, now it is sedition.

2, 3. Fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Caesar saying that he himself is Christ a King.” And Pilate asked him, saying, “Are you the King of the Jews?” And he answered him and said, “You say it.”

Another of the evangelists tells us that he first asked Pilate what he meant by the question, explaining that he only claimed the kingdom in a spiritual sense.

4, 5. Then Pilate said to the chief priests and to the people, “I find no fault in this man.” And they were the more fierce, saying, “He stirs up the people, teaching throughout all Judah, beginning from Galilee to this place.”

When Pilate heard them say Galilee, he grasped at that; he did not wish to displease the multitude.

6, 7. When Pilate heard of Galilee, he asked whether the man was a Galilean. And as soon as he knew that he belonged to Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him to Herod, who himself also was at Jerusalem at that time.

So away the Master goes; he must be dragged through the streets again to a third tribunal. Oh! you blessed Lamb of God! Never was a sheep driven to the slaughter-house as you were driven to death!

8. And when Herod saw Jesus, he was very glad; for he was desirous to see him for a long time, because he had heard many things about him; and he hoped to have seen some miracle done by him.

But the Lord never worked miracles yet, to gratify idle curiosity. He who would have worked a miracle to heal the poorest beggar in the street would not work a wonder to please the king in whose power he was.

9. Then he questioned him with many words: but he answered him nothing.

“No,” says good Christopher Ness — “John Baptist was Christ’s voice, and Herod had stopped him; there Christ would not speak; as if he would say, ‘No, no’; you cut off John Baptist’s head, who was my messenger, and since you have so badly treated my ambassador, I, the King of kings, will have nothing to say to you.”

10. And the chief priests and scribes stood and vehemently accused him.

The original word is made nothing of him — made him as nothing.

11, 12. And Herod with his men of war set him at naught, and mocked him, and arrayed him in a gorgeous robe, and sent him again to Pilate. And that same day Pilate and Herod were made friends together; for before they were at enmity between themselves.

Two dogs could well agree to hunt the same prey, and sinners who quarrel on other things will often be quite agreed to persecute the gospel.

13-16. And Pilate, when he had called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, said to them, “You have brought this man to me, as one who perverts the people; and, behold, I, having examined him before you, have found no fault in this man concerning those things of which you accuse him: No, nor even Herod; for I sent you to him; and, lo, nothing worthy of death is done to him. I will therefore chastise him, and release him.”

Ah! that word “chastise” slips so glibly over the tongue, but you know what it meant, when the Roman lictors laid bare the back and used the terrific scourge! “I will scourge him,” said Pilate. Perhaps he thought that if he scourged him, his suffering would induce the Jews to spare his life.

17-20. (For of necessity he must release one to them at the feast). And they cried out all at once, saying, “Away with this man, and release to us Barabbas”: (Who for a certain sedition made in the city, and for murder, was cast into prison). Pilate, therefore, willing to release Jesus, spoke again to them.

He seems to have gone backward and forward many times, desiring to save the life of Christ, but not having the moral courage to do it.

21-26. But they cried, saying, “Crucify him, crucify him.” And he said to them the third time, “Why? What evil has he done? I have found no reason for death in him: I will therefore chastise him, and let him go.” And they were insistent with loud voices, requiring that he might be crucified. And the voices of them and of the chief priests prevailed. And Pilate gave sentence that it should be as they required. And he released to them him who for sedition and murder was cast into prison, whom they had desired: but he delivered Jesus to their will. And as they led him away, they laid hold on one Simon, a Cyrenian, coming out of the country, and on him they laid the cross, so that he might bear it after Jesus.

Illustrations and Meditations; or, Flowers from a Puritan’s Garden. Distilled and dispensed by C. H. Spurgeon. Cloth. Published at 2s. 6d., offered at 2s.

Barbed Arrows, from the Quiver of C. H. Spurgeon. A Collection of Anecdotes, Illustrations and Similes. With Preface by Pastor C. Spurgeon, A companion Volume to “Feathers for Arrows.” Cloth. Published at 2s. 6d., offered at 2s.