 77 of the Desire of Ages by Ellen G. White. In Pilate's Judgment Hall. In the Judgment Hall of Pilate, the Roman governor, Christ stands bound as a prisoner. About him are the guarded soldiers, and the hall is fast filling with spectators. Just outside the entrance are the judges of the Sanhedrin, priests, rulers, elders, and the mob. After condemning Jesus, the Council of the Sanhedrin had come to Pilate to have the Senate's confirmed and executed. But these Jewish officials would not enter the Roman Judgment Hall. According to their ceremonial law they would be defiled thereby, and thus prevented from taking part in the Feast of the Passover. In their blindness they did not see that murderous hatred had defiled their hearts. They did not see that Christ was the real Passover Lamb, and that since they had rejected him, the great Feast had for them lost its significance. When the Saviour was brought into the Judgment Hall, Pilate looked upon him with no friendly eyes. The Roman governor had been called from his bed-chamber in haste, and he determined to do his work as quickly as possible. He was prepared to deal with the prisoner, with magisterial severity. Assuming his severest expression, he turned to see what kind of man he had to examine, that he had been called from his repose at so early an hour. He knew that it must be someone whom the Jewish authorities were anxious to have tried and punished with haste. Pilate looked at the men who had Jesus in charge, and then his gaze rested searchingly on Jesus. He had had to deal with all kinds of criminals, but never before had a man bearing marks of such goodness and nobility been brought before him. On his face he saw no sign of guilt, no expression of fear, no boldness or defiance. He saw a man of calm and dignified bearing whose countenance bore not the marks of a criminal, but the signature of heaven. Christ's appearance made a favorable impression upon Pilate. His better nature was roused. He had heard of Jesus in his works. His wife had told him something of the wonderful deeds performed by the Galilean prophet, who cured the sick and raised the dead. Now this revived as a dream in Pilate's mind. He recalled rumors that he had heard from several sources. He resolved to demand of the Jews their charges against a prisoner. Who is this man, and wherefore have you brought him? He said. What accusation bring ye against him? The Jews were disconcerted. Knowing that they could not substantiate their charges against Christ, they did not desire a public examination. They answered that he was a deceiver called Jesus of Nazareth. Again Pilate asked. What accusation bring ye against this man? The priest did not answer his question, but in words it showed their irritation. They said, If he were not a mal-factor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee. When those composing the Sanhedrin, the first men of the nation, bring to you a man they deem worthy of death, is there need to ask for an accusation against him? They hoped to impress Pilate with a sense of their importance, and thus lead him to accede to their request without going through many preliminaries. They were eager to have their sentence ratified, for they knew that the people who had witnessed Christ's marvelous works could tell a story very different from the fabrication they themselves were now rehearsing. The priests thought that with the weak and vacillating Pilate they could carry through their plans without trouble. Before this he had signed the death warrant hastily, condemning to death men they knew were not worthy of death. In his estimation the life of a prisoner was of little account. Whether he were innocent or guilty was of no special consequence. The priests hoped that Pilate would now inflict the death penalty on Jesus without giving him a hearing. This they be sought as a favour on the occasion of their great national festival. But there was something in the prisoner that held Pilate back from this. He dared not do it. He read the purposes of the priest. He remembered how not long before Jesus had raised Lazarus, a man that had been dead four days, and had determined to know, before signing the sentence of condemnation, what were the charges against him, and whether they could be proved. If your judgment is sufficient, he said, why bring the prisoner to me? Take ye him and judge him according to your law. Thus pressed the priest said that they had already passed sentence upon him, but that they must have Pilate sentence to render their condemnation valid. What is your sentence? Pilate asked. The death sentence, they answered. But it is not lawful for us to put any man to death. They asked Pilate to take their word as to Christ's guilt, and enforce their sentence. They would take the responsibility of the result. Pilate was not a just or a conscientious judge. But weak though he was in moral power, he refused to grant this request. He would not condemn Jesus until a charge had been brought against him. The priest were in a dilemma. They saw that they must cloak their hypocrisy under the thickest concealment. They must not allow it to appear that Christ had been arrested on religious grounds. Where this put forward as a reason, their proceedings would have no weight with Pilate. They must make it appear that Jesus was working against the common law. Then he could be punished as a political offender. Two molts and insurrection against the Roman government were constantly arising among the Jews. With these revolts the Romans had dealt very rigorously, and they were constantly on the watch to repress everything that could lead to an outbreak. Only a few days before this the Pharisees had tried to entrap Christ with the question, is it lawful for us to give tribute unto Caesar? But Christ had unveiled their hypocrisy. The Romans who were present had seen the utter failure of the plotters and their discomforture at his answer. Render therefore unto Caesar the things which be Caesar's. Luke 20, 22 to 25. Now the priest thought to make it appear that on this occasion Christ had taught what they hoped he would teach. In their extremity they called false witnesses to their aid, and they began to accuse him saying, we found this fellow perverting the nation and forbidding to give tribute to Caesar, saying that he himself is Christ a king. Three charges, each without foundation, the priest knew this, but they were willing to commit perjury could they but secure their end. Pilate saw through their purpose. He did not believe that the prisoner had plotted against the government. His meek and humble appearance was altogether out of harmony with the charge. Pilate was convinced that a deep plot had been laid to destroy an innocent man who stood in the way of the Jewish dignitaries. Turning to Jesus, he asked, art thou the king of the Jews? The Savior answered, thou sayest it. And as he spoke his countenance lighted up as if a sunbeam were shining upon it. When they heard his answer, Caiaphas and those that were with him, called Pilate to witness that Jesus had admitted the crime with which he was charged. With noisy cries, priests, scribes, and rulers demanded that he be sentenced to death. The cries were taken up by the mob and the uproar was deafening. Pilate was confused. Seeing that Jesus made no answer to his accusers, Pilate said to him, Answerest thou nothing? Behold how many things they witness against thee. But Jesus yet answered nothing. Standing behind Pilate in view of all the court, Christ heard the abuse, but to all the false charges against him he answered not a word. His whole bearing gave evidence of conscious innocence. He stood unmoved by the fury of the waves that beat about him. It was as if the heavy surges of wrath rising higher and higher, like the waves of the boisterous ocean, broke about him, but did not touch him. He stood silent, but his silence was eloquence. It was as a light shining from the inner to the outer man. Pilate was astonished at his bearing. Does this man disregard the proceedings because he does not care to save his life? He asked himself. As he looked at Jesus bearing insult and mockery without retaliation, he felt that he could not be as unrighteous and unjust as were the clamoring priests. Hoping to gain the truth from him and to escape the tumult of the crowd, Pilate took Jesus aside with him and again questioned, Art thou the king of the Jews? Jews did not directly answer this question. He knew that the Holy Spirit was striving with Pilate, and he gave him opportunity to acknowledge his conviction. Sayest thou this thing of thyself, he asked, or did others tell it thee of me? That is, was it the accusations of the priest, or a desire to receive light from Christ that prompted Pilate's question? Pilate understood Christ's meaning, but pride arose in his heart. He would not acknowledge a conviction that pressed upon him. Am I a Jew, he said? Thine own nation and the chief priest have delivered thee unto me. What hast thou done? Pilate's golden opportunity had passed. Yet Jesus did not leave him without further light. While he did not directly answer Pilate's question, he plainly stated his own mission. He gave Pilate to understand that he was not seeking an earthly throne. My kingdom is not of this world, he said. If my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight that I should not be delivered to the Jews. But now is my kingdom not from hints. Pilate, therefore, said unto him, art thou a king then? Jesus answered, Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice. Christ affirmed that his word was in itself a key which would unlock the mystery to those who were prepared to receive it. It had a self-commending power, and this was the secret of the spread of his kingdom of truth. He desired Pilate to understand that only by receiving an appropriating truth could his ruined nature be reconstructed. Pilate had a desire to know the truth. His mind was confused. He eerily grasped the words of the Saviour, and his heart was stirred with a great longing to know what it really was and how he could obtain it. What is truth? he inquired. But he did not wait for an answer. The tumult outside recalled him to the interest of the hour. For the priests were clamors for immediate action. Going out to the Jews he declared emphatically, I find in him no fault at all. These words from a heathen judge were a scathing rebuke to the perfidy and false hood of the rulers of Israel who were accusing the Saviour. As the priests and elders heard this from Pilate, their disappointment and rage knew no bounds. They had long plotted and waited for this opportunity. As they saw the prospect of the release of Jesus, they seemed ready to tear him in pieces. They loudly denounced Pilate and threatened him with the censure of the Roman government. They accused him of refusing to condemn Jesus who, they affirmed, had set himself up against Caesar. Angry voices were now heard, declaring that the seditious influence of Jesus was well known throughout the country. The priests said, he stirreth up the people, teaching throughout all Jewry, beginning from Galilee to this place. Pilate at this time had no thought of condemning Jesus. He knew that the Jews had accused him through hatred and prejudice. He knew what his duty was. Justice demanded that Christ should be immediately released. But Pilate dreaded the ill will of the people. Should he refuse to give Jesus into their hands, a tumult would be raised, and this he feared to meet. When he heard that Christ was from Galilee, he decided to send him to Herod, the ruler of that province, who was then in Jerusalem. By this course Pilate thought to shift the responsibility of the trial from himself to Herod. He also thought this a good opportunity to heal an old quarrel between himself and Herod. And so it proved. The two magistrates made friends over the trial of the Savior. Pilate delivered Jesus again to the soldiers, and amid the jeers and insults of the mob, he was hurried to the judgment hall of Herod. When Herod saw Jesus, he was exceeding glad. He had never before met the Savior, but he was desirous to see him of a long season, because he had heard many things of him, and he hoped to have seen some miracle done by him. This Herod was he whose hands were stained with the blood of John the Baptist. When Herod first heard of Jesus, he was terror-stricken, and said, It is John whom I beheaded. He is risen from the dead. Therefore mighty works do show forth themselves in him. Mark 6, 16, Matthew 14, 2 Yet Herod desired to see Jesus. Now there was opportunity to save the life of this prophet, and the king hoped to banish forever from his mind the memory of that bloody head brought to him in a charger. He also desired to have his curiosity gratified, and thought that if Christ were given any prospect of release, he would do anything that was asked of him. A large company of the priests and elders had accompanied Christ to Herod. And when the Savior was brought in, these dignitaries, all speaking excitedly, urged their accusations against him. But Herod paid little regard to their charges. He commanded silence, desiring an opportunity to question Christ. He ordered that the fetters of Christ should be unloosed, at the same time charging his enemies with roughly treating him. Looking with compassion into the serene face of the world redeemer, he read in it only wisdom and purity. He as well as Pilate was satisfied that Christ had been accused through malice and envy. Herod questioned Christ in many words, but throughout the Savior maintained a profound silence. At the command of the king, the decrepit and maimed were then called in, and Christ was ordered to prove his claims by working a miracle. Men say that thou canst heal the six at Herod. I am anxious to see that thy widespread fame has not been belied. Jesus did not respond, and Herod still continued to urge, if thou canst work miracles for others, work them now for thine own good, and it will serve thee a good purpose. Again he commanded, show us a sign that thou hast the power with which rumor hath accredited thee. But Christ was as one who heard and saw not. The Son of God had taken upon himself man's nature. He must do as man must do in like circumstances. Therefore he would not work a miracle to save himself the pain and humiliation that man must endure when placed in a similar position. Herod promised that if Christ would perform some miracle in his presence, he should be released. Christ accusers had seen with their own eyes the mighty works wrought by his power. They had heard him command the grave to give up its dead. They had seen the dead come forth obedient to his voice. Fear seized them lest he should now work a miracle. Of all things they most dreaded an exhibition of his power. Such a manifestation would prove a death blow to their plans. And would perhaps cost them their lives. Again the priests and rulers in great anxiety urged their accusations against him. Raising their voices they declared, he is a traitor, a blasphemer. He works his miracles through the power given him by Balesabub, the Prince of the Devils. The Hall became a scene of confusion, some crying one thing and some another. Herod's conscience was now far less sensitive than when he had trembled with horror at the request of Herodius for the head of John the Baptist. For a time he had felt the keen stings of remorse for his terrible act. But his moral perceptions had become more and more degraded by his licentious life. Now his heart had become so hardened that he could even boast of the punishment he had inflicted upon John for daring to reprove him. And he now threatened Jesus, declaring repeatedly that he had power to release or to condemn him. But no sign from Jesus gave evidence that he heard a word. Herod was irritated by this silence. It seemed to indicate utter indifference to his authority. To the vein and Papa's king, open rebuke would have been less offensive than to be thus ignored. Again he angrily threatened Jesus, who still remained unmoved and silent. The mission of Christ in this world was not to gratify idle curiosity. He came to heal the brokenhearted. Could he have spoken any word to heal the bruises of sin-sick souls he would not have kept silent. But he had no words for those who would but trample the truth under their unholy feet. Christ might have spoken words to Herod that would have pierced the ears of the hardened king. He might have stricken him with fear and trembling by laying before him the full iniquity of his life and the whore of his approaching doom. But Christ's silence was the severest rebuke that he could have given. Herod had rejected the truth spoken to him by the greatest of the prophets, and no other message was he to receive. Not a word had the majesty of heaven for him. That ear that had ever been opened to human woe had no room for Herod's commands. Those eyes that had ever rested upon the penitent sinner in pitying forgiving love had no look to bestow upon Herod. Those lips that had uttered the most impressive truth that in tones of tinterest and treaty had pleaded with the most sinful and the most degraded were closed to the haughty king who felt no need of a Savior. Herod's face grew dark with passion. Turning to the multitude, he angrily denounced Jesus as an imposter. Then to Christ, he said, if you will give no evidence of your claim, I will deliver you up to the soldiers and the people. They may succeed in making you speak. If you are an imposter, death at their hands is only what you merit. If you are the Son of God, save yourself by working a miracle. No sooner were these words spoken than a rush was made for Christ. Like wild beasts the crowd darted upon their prey. Jesus was dragged this way and that. Herod, joining the mob and seeking to humiliate the Son of God, had not the Roman soldiers interposed and forced back the maddened throng. The Savior would have been torn in pieces. Herod, with his men of war, set him at knot and mocked him and arrayed him in a gorgeous robe. The Roman soldiers joined in this abuse. All that these wicked corrupt soldiers, helped on by Herod and the Jewish dignitaries, could instigate, was heaped upon the Savior. Yet his divine patience failed not. Christ's persecutors had tried to measure his character by their own. They had represented him as vile as themselves, but back of all the present appearance another scene intruded itself. A scene which they will one day see in all its glory. They were some who trembled in Christ's presence. While the rude throng were bowing in mockery before him, some who came forward for that purpose turned back. Afraid and silenced. Herod was convicted. The last rays of merciful light were shining upon his sin-hardened heart. He felt that this was no common man, for divinity had flashed through humanity. At the very time when Christ was encompassed by mockers, adulterers, and murderers, Herod felt that he was beholding a God upon his throne. Hardened as he was, Herod dared not ratify the condemnation of Christ. He wished to relieve himself of the terrible responsibility, and he sent Jesus back to the Roman judgment hall. Pilate was disappointed, and much displeased. When the Jews returned with their prisoner, he asked impatiently what they would have him do. He reminded them that he had already examined Jesus and found no fault in him. He told them that they had brought complaints against him, but they had not been able to prove a single charge. He had sent Jesus to Herod, the tetrarch of Galilee, and one of their own nation, but he also had found in him nothing worthy of death. I will therefore chastise him, Pilate said, and release him. Here Pilate showed his weakness. He had declared that Jesus was innocent, yet he was willing for him to be scourged to pacify his accusers. He would sacrifice justice and principle in order to compromise with the mob. This placed him at a disadvantage. The crowd presumed upon his indecision and clamored the more for the life of the prisoner. If at the first Pilate had stood firm, refusing to condemn a man whom he found guiltless, he would have broken the fatal chain that was to bind him in remorse and guilt as long as he lived. Had he carried out his convictions of right, the Jews would not have presumed to dictate to him. Christ would have been put to death, but the guilt would not have rested upon Pilate. But Pilate had taken step after step in the violation of his conscience. He had excused himself from judging with justice and equity, and he now found himself almost helpless in the hands of the priests and rulers. His wavering and indecision proved his ruin. Even now Pilate was not left to act blindly. A message from God warned him from the deed he was about to commit. In answer to Christ's prayer, the wife of Pilate had been visited by an angel from heaven, and in a dream she had beheld the Savior, and conversed with him. Pilate's wife was not a Jew. But as she looked upon Jesus in her dream, she had no doubt of his character or mission. She knew him to be the Prince of God. She saw him on trial in the Judgment Hall. She saw the hands tightly bound as the hands of a criminal. She saw Herod and his soldiers doing their dreadful work. She heard the priests and rulers filled with envy and malice madly accusing. She heard the words, We have a law, and by our law he ought to die. She saw Pilate give Jesus to the scourging. After he had declared, I find no fault in him. She heard the condemnation pronounced by Pilate, and saw him give Christ up to his murderers. She saw the cross uplifted on Calvary. She saw the earth wrapped in darkness and heard the mysterious cry. It is finished. Still another scene met her gaze. She saw Christ seated upon the great white cloud while the earth reeled in space, and his murderers fled from the presence of his glory. With a cry of horror she awoke, and at once wrote to Pilate words of warning. While Pilate was hesitating as to what he should do, a messenger pressed through the crowd and handed him the letter from his wife, which read, Have thou nothing to do with this just man? For I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him. Pilate's face grew pale. He was confused by his own conflicting emotions, but while he had been delaying to act, the priests and rulers were still further inflaming the minds of the people. Pilate was forced to action. He now bethought himself of a custom which might serve to secure Christ's release. It was customary at this feast to release some one prisoner whom the people might choose. This custom was of pagan invention. There was not a shadow of justice in it, but it was greatly prized by the Jews. The Roman authorities at this time held a prisoner named Barabbas, who was under sentence of death. This man had claimed to be the Messiah. He claimed authority to establish a different order of things to set the world right. Under satanic delusion he claimed that whatever he could obtain by theft and robbery was his own. He had done wonderful things through satanic agencies. He had gained a following among the people and had excited sedition against the Roman government. Under cover of religious enthusiasm, he was a hardened and desperate villain bent on rebellion and cruelty. By giving the people a choice between this man and the innocent savior, Pilate thought to arouse them to a sense of justice. He hoped to gain their sympathy for Jesus in opposition to the priests and rulers. So, turning to the crowd, he said with great earnestness, whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ? Like the bellowing of wild beasts came the answer of the mob. Release unto us Barabbas! Louder and louder swelled the cry. Barabbas! Barabbas! Thinking that the people had not understood his question, Pilate asked, will ye that I release unto you the king of the Jews? But they cried out again, away with this man, and release unto us Barabbas! What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ? Pilate asked. Again the surging multitude roared like demons. Demons themselves in human form were in the crowd. And what could be expected but the answer? Let him be crucified. Pilate was troubled. He had not thought it would come to that. He shrank from delivering an innocent man to the most ignominious and cruel death that could be inflicted. After the roar of voices had ceased, he turned to the people saying, Why? What evil hath he done? But the case had gone too far for argument. It was not evidence of Christ's innocence that they wanted, but his condemnation. Still Pilate endeavored to save him. He said unto them the third time, Why? What evil hath he done? I have found no cause of death in him. I will therefore chastise him and let him go. But the very mention of his release stirred the people to a tenfold frenzy. Crucify him! Crucify him! they cried. Louder and louder swelled the storm that Pilate's indecision had called forth. Jesus was taken, faint with weariness and covered with wounds, and scourged in the sight of the multitude. And the soldiers led him away into the hall, called Praetorium, and they called together the whole band, and they clothed him with purple, and planted a crown of thorns, and put it about his head, and began to salute him, Hail King of the Jews! And they did spit upon him, and bowing their knees worshipped him. Occasionally some wicked hand snatched the reed that had been placed in his hand, and struck the crown upon his brow, forcing the thorns into his temples, and sending the blood trickling down his face and beard. Wonder, O heavens, and be astonished, O earth! Behold the oppressor and the oppressed! A maddened throng enclosed the Saviour of the world. Mocking and jeering are mingled with the coarse oaths of blasphemy. His lowly birth and humble life are commented upon by the unfeeling mob. His claim to be the Son of God is ridiculed, and the vulgar jest and insulting sneer are passed from lip to lip. Satan led the cruel mob in its abuse of the Saviour. It was his purpose to provoke him to retaliation if possible, or to drive him to perform a miracle to release himself, and thus break up the plan of salvation. One stain upon his human life, one failure of his humanity to endure the terrible test, and the Lamb of God would have been an imperfect offering, and the redemption of man of failure. But he who by a command could bring the heavenly host to his aid, he who could have driven that mob in terror from his sight by the flashing forth of his divine majesty, submitted with perfect calmness to the coarsest insult and outrage. Christ's enemies had demanded a miracle as evidence of his divinity. They had evidence far greater than any they had sought, as their cruelty degraded his tortures below humanity into the likeness of Satan. So did his meekness and patience exalt Jesus above humanity, and prove his kinship to God. His abasement was the pledge of his exaltation. The blood drops of agony that from his wounded temples flowed down his face and beard were the pledge of his anointing with the oil of gladness, Hebrews 1.9, as our great High Priest. Satan's rage was great as he saw that all the abuse inflicted upon the Saviour had not forced the least murmur from his lips. Although he had taken upon him the nature of man, he was sustained by a godlike fortitude and departed in no particular from the will of his father. When Pilate gave Jesus up to be scorched and mocked, he thought to excite the pity of the multitude. He hoped they would decide that this was sufficient punishment, even the malice of the Priest he thought would now be satisfied. But with keen perception the Jews saw the weakness of thus punishing a man who had been declared innocent. They knew that Pilate was trying to save the life of the prisoner, and they were determined that Jesus should not be released. To please and satisfy us, Pilate has scourged him, they thought, and if we press the matter to a decided issue, we shall surely gain our end. Pilate now sent for Barabbas to be brought into the court. He then presented the two prisoners side by side, and pointing to the Saviour he said in a voice of solemn and treaty, Behold the man! I bring him forth to you, that ye may know that I find no fault in him. There stood the Son of God, wearing the robe of mockery and the crown of thorns, stripped to the waist his back showed the long, cruel stripes from which the blood flowed freely, his face was stained with blood, and bore the marks of exhaustion and pain, but never had it appeared more beautiful than now. The Saviour's visage was not marred before his enemies. Every feature expressed gentleness and resignation, and the tenderest pity for his cruel foes. In his manner there was no cowardly weakness, but the strength and dignity of long suffering. In striking contrast was the prisoner at his side. Every line of the countenance of Barabbas proclaimed him the hardened Ruffian that he was. The contrast spoke to every beholder. Some of the spectators were weeping. As they looked upon Jesus their hearts were full of sympathy. Even the priests and rulers were convicted that he was all that he claimed to be. The Roman soldiers that surrounded Christ were not all hardened. Some were looking earnestly into his face, for one evidence that he was a criminal or dangerous character. From time to time they would turn and cast a look of contempt upon Barabbas. It needed no deep insight to read him through and through. Again they would turn to the one upon trial. They looked at the divine sufferer with feelings of deep pity. The silent submission of Christ stamped upon their minds a scene, never to be effaced until they either acknowledged him as the Christ or by rejecting him decided their own destiny. Pilot was filled with amazement at the uncomplaining patience of the Savior. He did not doubt that the sight of this man in contrast with Barabbas would move the Jews to sympathy, but he did not understand the fanatical hatred of the priests for him, who as the light of the world had made manifest their darkness and error. They had moved the mob to a mad fury, and again priests, rulers and people raised that awful cry. Crucify him! Crucify him! At last, losing all patience with their unreasoning cruelty, Pilot cried out despairingly, Take ye him and crucify him, for I find no fault in him. The Roman governor, though familiar with cruel scenes, was moved with sympathy for the suffering prisoner, who condemned and scourged with bleeding brow and lacerated back, still had the bearing of a king upon his throne. But the priest declared, We have a law, and by our law he ought to die, because he made himself the son of God. Pilot was startled. He had no correct idea of Christ in his mission, but he had an indistinct faith in God, and in being superior to humanity. A thought that had once before passed through his mind now took more definite shape. He questioned whether it might not be a divine being that stood before him, clad in the purple robe of mockery and crowned with thorns. Again he went into the judgment hall and said to Jesus, Quins art thou! But Jesus gave him no answer. The Saviour had spoken freely to Pilot, explaining his own mission as a witness to the truth. Pilot had disregarded the light. He had abused the high office of judge by yielding his principles and authority to the demands of the mob. Jesus had no further light for him. Vex did his silence, Pilot said haughtily. Speakest thou not unto me? Knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee, and have power to release thee? Jesus answered, Thou couldst have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above. Therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin. Thus the pitying Saviour, in the midst of his intense suffering and grief, excused as far as possible the act of the Roman governor who gave him up to be crucified. What a scene was this to hand down to the world for all time. What a light it sheds upon the character of him who is a judge of all the earth. He that delivered me unto thee, said Jesus, hath the greater sin. By this Christ meant Caiaphas, who as high priest represented the Jewish nation. They knew the principles that controlled the Roman authorities. They had had light in the prophecies that testified of Christ, and in his own teachings and miracles. The Jewish judges had received unmistakable evidence of the divinity of him whom they condemned to death, and according to their light would they be judged. The greatest guilt and heaviest responsibility belonged to those who stood in the highest places in the nation, the depositaries of sacred trust that they were basely betraying. Pilot, Herod, and Roman soldiers were comparatively ignorant of Jesus. They thought to please the priests and rulers by abusing him. They had not the light which the Jewish nation had so abundantly received. Had the light been given to the soldiers, they would not have treated Christ as cruelly as they did. Again, Pilot proposed to release the Savior. But the Jews cried out, saying, If thou let this man go, thou art not Caesar's friend. Thus these hypocrites pretended to be jealous for the authority of Caesar. Of all the opponents of the Roman rule, the Jews were most bitter. When it was safe for them to do so, they were most tyrannical in enforcing their own national and religious requirements. But when they desired to bring about some purpose of cruelty, they exalted the power of Caesar. To accomplish the destruction of Christ, they would profess loyalty to the foreign rule which they hated. Whosoever maketh himself a king, they continued, speaketh against Caesar. This was touching Pilot in a weak point. He was under suspicion by the Roman government. And he knew that such a report would be ruined to him. He knew that if the Jews were thwarted, their rage would be turned against him. They would leave nothing undone to accomplish their revenge. He had before him an example of the persistence with which they sought the life of one whom they hated without reason. Pilot then took his place on the judgment seat and again presented Jesus to the people saying, Behold, your king! Again the mad cry was heard. Away with him! Crucify him! In a voice that was heard far near, Pilot asked, Shall I crucify your king? But from profane blasphemous lips went forth the words, We have no king but Caesar. Thus by choosing a heathen ruler, the Jewish nation had withdrawn from the theocracy. They had rejected God as their king. Henceforth they had no deliverer. They had no king but Caesar. To this the priests and teachers had led the people. For this, with the fearful results that followed, they were responsible. A nation's sin and a nation's ruin were due to the religious leaders. When Pilot saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person. See ye to it! In fear and self-condemnation, Pilot looked upon the Savior. In the vast sea of upturned faces, his alone was peaceful. About his head a soft light seemed to shine. Pilot said in his heart, He is a God. Turning to the multitude, he declared, I am clear of his blood. Take ye him and crucify him. But mark ye, priests and rulers. I pronounce him a just man. May he whom he claims as his father judge you and not me for this day's work. Then to Jesus he said, Forgive me for this act. I cannot save you. And when he had again scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified. Pilot longed to deliver Jesus, but he saw that he could not do this and yet retain his own position and honor. Rather than lose his worldly power, he chose to sacrifice an innocent life. How many, to escape loss or suffering, in like manner, sacrifice principle. Conscience and duty point one way, and self-interest points another. The current sets strongly in the wrong direction, and he who compromises with evil is swept away into the thick darkness of guilt. Pilot yielded to the demands of the mob. Rather than risk losing his position, he delivered Jesus up to be crucified. But in spite of his precautions, the very thing he dreaded afterward came upon him. His honors were stripped from him, he was cast down from his high office, and, stung by remorse and wounded pride, not long after the crucifixion he ended his own life. So all who compromise with sin will gain only sorrow and ruin. There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the in thereof are the ways of death. Proverbs 14.12. When Pilot declared himself innocent at the blood of Christ, Caiaphas answered defiantly, his blood be on us and on our children. The awful words were taken up by the priests and rulers, and echoed by the crowd in an inhuman roar of voices. The whole multitude answered and said, his blood be on us and on our children. The people of Israel had made their choice. Pointing to Jesus, they had said, not this man, but Barabbas. Barabbas, the robber and murderer, was the representative of Satan. Christ was the representative of God. Christ had been rejected. Barabbas had been chosen. Barabbas, they were to have. In making this choice, they accepted him, who from the beginning was a liar and a murderer. Satan was their leader. As a nation, they would act out his dictation. His works they would do. His rule they must endure. That people who chose Barabbas in the place of Christ were to feel the cruelty of Barabbas as long as time should last. Looking upon the smitten lamb of God, the Jews had cried, his blood be on us and on our children. That awful cry ascended to the throne of God. That sentence, pronounced upon themselves, was written in heaven. That prayer was heard. The blood of the Son of God was upon their children, and their children's children, a perpetual curse. Terribly was it realized in the destruction of Jerusalem. Terribly has it been manifested in the condition of the Jewish nation for eighteen hundred years, a branch severed from the vine, a dead, fruitless branch, to be gathered up and burned, from land to land throughout the world, from century to century, dead, dead in trespasses and sins. Terribly will that prayer be fulfilled in the great judgment day, when Christ shall come to the earth again, not as a prisoner surrounded by a rabble will men see him. They will see him then as heaven's king. Christ will come in his own glory, in the glory of his father, and the glory of the holy angels. Ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands of angels, the beautiful and triumphant sons of God, possessing surpassing loveliness and glory, will escort him on his way. Then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory, and before him shall be gathered all nations. Then every eye shall see him, and they also that pierced him. In the place of a crown of thorns, he will wear a crown of glory, a crown within a crown. In place of that old purple kingly robe, he will be clothed in raiment of whitest white, so as no fuller on earth can white them. Mark nine three. And on his vesture, and on his thigh, a name will be written, King of kings and Lord of lords. Revelation nineteen sixteen. Those who mocked and smote him will be there. The priests and rulers will behold again the scene in the judgment hall. Every circumstance will appear before them, as if written in letters of fire. Then those who prayed, his blood be on us and on our children, will receive the answer to their prayer. Then the whole world will know and understand. They will realize who and what they, poor, feeble, finite beings, have been warring against. In awful agony and horror they will cry to the mountains and rocks, fall on us and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb. For the great day of his wrath has come, and who shall be able to stand? Revelation six sixteen and seventeen. End of chapter seventy-seven. Read by Donald Hines, Fredericksburg, Texas. Chapter seventy-eight of The Desire of Ages by Ellen G. White. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Calvary. And when they were come to the place which is called Calvary, there they crucified him. That he might sanctify the people with his own blood. Christ suffered without the gate. Hebrews thirteen twelve. For transgression of the law of God, Adam and Eve were banished from Eden. Christ, our substitute, was to suffer without the boundaries of Jerusalem. He died outside the gate where felons and murderers were executed. Full of significance are the words Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us. Galatians three thirteen. A vast multitude followed Jesus from the judgment hall to Calvary. The news of his condemnation had spread throughout Jerusalem. And people of all classes and all ranks flocked toward the place of crucifixion. The priests and rulers had been bound by a promise not to molest Christ's followers if he himself were delivered to them. And the disciples and believers from the city and the surrounding region joined the throng that followed the Saviour. As Jesus passed the gate of Pilate's court, the cross which had been prepared for Barabbas was laid upon his bruised and bleeding shoulders. Two companions of Barabbas were to suffer death at the same time with Jesus, and upon them also crosses were placed. The Saviour's burden was too heavy for him in his weak and suffering condition. Since the Passover sufferer with his disciples, he had taken neither food nor drink. He had agonized in the Garden of Gethsemane in conflict with Satanic agencies. He had endured the anguish of the betrayal and had seen his disciples forsake him and flee. He had been taken to Annas, and then to Caiaphas, and then to Pilate. From Pilate he had been sent to Herod, and then sent again to Pilate. From insult to renewed insult. From mockery to mockery, twice tortured by the scourge, all that night there had been seen after seen of a character to try the soul of man to the uttermost. Christ had not failed. He had spoken no word but that tended to glorify God. All through the disgraceful farce of a trial he had borne himself with firmness and dignity, but when after the second scourging the cross was laid upon him human nature could bear no more. He fell fainting beneath the burden. The crowd that followed the Saviour saw his weak and staggering steps, but they manifested no compassion. They taunted and reviled him because he could not carry the heavy cross. Again the burden was laid upon him, and again he fell fainting to the ground. His persecutors saw that it was impossible for him to carry his burden farther. They were puzzled to find anyone who would bear the humiliating load. The Jews themselves could not do this because the defilement would prevent them from keeping the Passover. None even of the mob that followed him would stoop to bear the cross. At this time a stranger, Simon, a Saurinian, coming in from the country, meets a throng. He hears the taunts and ribaldry of the crowd. He hears the words contemptuously repeated, Make way for the king of the Jews. He stops in astonishment at the scene, and as he expresses his compassion they seize him and place the cross upon his shoulders. Simon had heard of Jesus. His sons were believers in the Saviour, but he himself was not a disciple. The bearing of the cross to Calvary was a blessing to Simon, and he was ever after grateful for this providence. It led him to take upon himself the cross of Christ from choice, and ever cheerfully stand beneath its burden. Not a few women are in the crowd that followed the Uncondemned to his cruel death. Their attention is fixed upon Jesus. Some of them have seen him before. Some have carried to him their sick and suffering ones. Some have themselves been healed. The story of the scenes that have taken place is related. They wonder at the hatred of the crowd toward him, for whom their own hearts are melting and ready to break, and notwithstanding the action of the maddened throng and the angry words of the priests and rulers, these women give expression to their sympathy. As Jesus falls fainting beneath the cross, they break forth into mournful wailing. This was the only thing that attracted Christ's attention. Although full of suffering, while bearing the sins of the world, he was not indifferent to the expression of grief. He looked upon these women with tender compassion. They were not believers in him. He knew that they were not lamenting him as one sent from God, but were moved by feelings of human pity. He did not despise their sympathy, but it awakened in his heart a deeper sympathy for them. Daughters of Jerusalem, he said, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children. From the scene before him, Christ looked forward to the time of Jerusalem's destruction. In that terrible scene, many of those who were now weeping for him were to perish with their children. From the fall of Jerusalem, the thoughts of Jesus passed to a wider judgment. In the destruction of the impenitent city, he saw a symbol of the final destruction to come upon the world. He said, then shall they begin to say to the mountains, fall on us, and to the hills, cover us, for if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry? By the green tree Jesus represented himself, the innocent redeemer. God suffered his wrath against transgression to fall on his beloved son. Jesus was to be crucified for the sins of men. What suffering then would the sinner bear who continued in sin? All the impenitent and unbelieving would know a sorrow and misery that language would fail to express. Of the multitude that followed the Savior to Calvary, many had attended him with joyful hosannas and the waving of palm branches as he rode triumphantly into Jerusalem. But not a few who had then shouted his praise, because it was popular to do so, now swelled the cry of, crucify him, crucify him. When Christ rode into Jerusalem, the hopes of the disciples had been raised to the highest pinch. They had pressed close about their master, feeling that it was a high honor to be connected with him. Now, in his humiliation, they followed him at a distance. They were filled with grief and bowed down with disappointed hopes. How were the words of Jesus verified? All ye shall be offended because of me this night. For it is written, I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad." Matthew 26, 31. Arriving at the place of execution, the prisoners were bound to the instruments of torture. The two thieves wrestled in the hands of those who placed him on the cross. But Jesus made no resistance. The mother of Jesus, supported by John, the beloved disciple, had followed the steps of her son to Calvary. She had seen him fainting under the burden of the cross, and had longed a place of supporting hand beneath his wounded head, and to bathe that brow which had once been pillowed upon her bosom. But she was not permitted this mournful privilege. With the disciples she still cherished a hope that Jesus would manifest his power and deliver himself from his enemies. Again her heart would sink as she recalled the words in which he had foretold the very scenes that were then taking place. As the thieves were bound to the cross, she looked on with agonizing suspense. Would he who had given life to the dead suffer himself to be crucified? Would the Son of God suffer himself to be thus cruelly slain? Must she give up her faith that Jesus was the Messiah? Must she witness his shame and sorrow without even the privilege of ministering to him in his distress? She saw his hands stretched upon the cross, the hammer and the nails were brought, and as the spikes were driven through the tender flesh, the hearts-dricking disciples bore away from the cruel scene the fainting form of the mother of Jesus. The Saviour made no murmur of complaint. His face remained calm and serene, but great drops of sweat stood upon his brow. There was no pitying hand to wipe the death-dew from his face, nor words of sympathy and unchanging fidelity to stay his human heart. While the soldiers were doing their fearful work, Jesus prayed for his enemies. Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. His mind passed from his own suffering to the sin of his persecutors and the terrible retribution that would be theirs. No curses were called down upon the soldiers who were handling him so roughly. No vengeance was invoked upon the priests and rulers who were gloating over the accomplishment of their purpose. Christ pitied them in their ignorance and guilt. He breathed only a plea for their forgiveness, for they know not what they do. Had they known that they were putting to torture one who had come to save the sinful race from eternal ruin, they would have been seized with remorse and horror, but their ignorance did not remove their guilt, for it was their privilege to know and accept Jesus as their savior. Some of them would yet see their sin and repent and be converted. Some, by their impenitence, would make it an impossibility for the prayer of Christ to be answered for them. Yet just the same, God's purpose was reaching its fulfillment. Jesus was earning the right to become the advocate of men in the Father's presence. That prayer of Christ for his enemies embraced the world. It took in every sinner that had lived or should live from the beginning of the world to the end of time. Upon all rest the guilt of crucifying the Son of God. To all, forgiveness is freely offered. Whosoever will, may have peace with God and inherit eternal life. As soon as Jesus was nailed to the cross, it was lifted by strong men and with great violence thrust into the place prepared for it. This caused the most intense agony to the Son of God. Pilate then wrote an inscription in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin and placed it upon the cross above the head of Jesus. It read, Jesus of Nazareth, the king of the Jews. This inscription irritated the Jews. In Pilate's court they had cried, Crucify him, we have no king but Caesar. John 1915. They had declared that whoever should acknowledge any other king was a traitor. Pilate wrote out the sentiment they had expressed. No offense was mentioned, except that Jesus was the king of the Jews. The inscription was a virtual acknowledgement of the allegiance of the Jews to the Roman power. It declared that whoever might claim to be the king of Israel would be judged by them worthy of death. The priests had overreached themselves. When they were plotting the death of Christ, Caiaphas had declared it expedient that one man should die to save the nation. Now their hypocrisy was revealed. In order to destroy Christ they had been ready to sacrifice even their national existence. The priests saw what they had done and asked Pilate to change the inscription. They said, right not the king of the Jews, but that he said I am king of the Jews. But Pilate was angry with himself because of his former weakness, and he thoroughly despised the jealous and artful priests and rulers. He replied coldly, What I have written, I have written. A higher power than Pilate or the Jews had directed the placing of that inscription above the head of Jesus. In the providence of God it was to awaken thought and investigation of the scriptures. The place where Christ was crucified was near to the city. Thousands of people from all lands were then at Jerusalem, and the inscription declaring Jesus of Nazareth the Messiah would come to their notice. It was a living truth, transcribed by a hand that God had guided. In the sufferings of Christ upon the cross prophecy was fulfilled. Centuries before the crucifixion the Savior had foretold the treatment he was to receive. He said, Dogs have compassed me. The assembly of the wicked have enclosed me. They pierced my hands and my feet. I may tell all my bones. They look and stare upon me. They part my garments among them and cast lots upon my vesture. Psalms 22, 16 to 18. The prophecy concerning his garments was carried out without counsel or interference from the friends or the enemies of the crucified one. To the soldiers who had placed them upon the cross, his clothing was given. Christ heard the men's contention as they parted the garments among them. His tunic was woven throughout without seeing, and they said, Let us not rend it, but cast lots for it. Whose it shall be. In another prophecy the Savior declared, reproach hath broken my heart, and I am full of heaviness, and I looked for some to take pity, but there was none. And for comforters, but I found none. They gave me also gall for my meat, and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink. Psalm 69, 20, 21. To those who suffered death by the cross, it was permitted to give a stupefying potion to deaden the sense of pain. This was offered to Jesus. But when he had tasted it, he refused it. He would receive nothing that could be cloud his mind. His faith must keep fast, hold upon God. This was his only strength. To be cloud his senses would give Satan an advantage. The enemies of Jesus vented their rage upon him as he hung upon the cross. Priests, rulers, and scribes joined with the mob and mocking the dying Savior. At the baptism, and at the transfiguration, the voice of God had been heard, proclaiming Christ as his son. Again, just before Christ's betrayal, the Father had spoken, witnessing to his divinity. But now the voice from heaven was silent. No testimony in Christ's favor was heard. Alone he suffered abuse and mockery from wicked men. If thou be the Son of God, they said, come down from the cross. Let him save himself, if he be Christ the chosen of God. In the wilderness of temptation Satan had declared, if thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread. If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down from the pinnacle of the temple. Matthew 4, 3, and 6. And Satan, with his angels, in human form, was present at the cross. The Archvene and his hosts were cooperating with the priests and rulers. The teachers of the people had stimulated the ignorant mob to pronounce judgment against one upon whom many of them had never looked, until urged to bear testimony against him. Priests, rulers, Pharisees, and the hardened rabble were confederated together in a satanic frenzy. Religious rulers united with Satan and his angels. They were doing his bidding. Jesus, suffering and dying, heard every word as the priests declared. He saved others. Himself he cannot save. Let Christ, the King of Israel, descend now from the cross, that we may see and believe. Christ could have come down from the cross, but it is because he would not save himself that the sinner has hope of pardon and favor with God. In their mockery of the Saviour, the men who profess to be the expounders of prophecy were repeating the very words which inspiration had foretold they would utter upon this occasion. Yet in their blindness they did not see that they were fulfilling the prophecy. Those who in derision uttered the words, he trusted in God. Let him deliver him now, if he will have him. For he said, I am the Son of God. Little thought that their testimony would sound down the ages, but although spoken in mockery, these words led men to search the scriptures as they had never done before. Wise men heard, searched, pondered, and prayed. There were those who never rested until, by comparing scripture with scripture, they saw the meaning of Christ's mission. Never before was there such a general knowledge of Jesus as when he hung upon the cross, into the hearts of many who beheld the crucifixion scene, and who heard Christ's words. The light of truth was shining. To Jesus and his agony on the cross there came one gleam of comfort. It was the prayer of the penitent thief. Both the men who were crucified with Jesus had at first railed upon him. And one under his suffering only became more desperate and defiant. But not so with his companion. This man was not a hardened criminal. He had been led astray by evil associations. But he was less guilty than many of those who stood beside the cross reviling the Saviour. He had seen and heard Jesus, and had been convicted by his teaching. But he had been turned away from him by the priests and rulers. Seeking distifle conviction, he had plunged deeper and deeper into sin until he was arrested, tried as a criminal, and condemned to die on the cross. In the judgment hall, and on the way to Calvary, he had been in company with Jesus. He had heard Pilate declare, I find no fault in him. John 19.4. He had marked his godlike bearing and his pitying forgiveness of his tormentors. On the cross he sees a many great religionists shoot out the tongue with scorn and ridicule the Lord Jesus. He sees the wagging heads. He hears the upgrading speeches taken up by his companion in guilt. If thou be Christ, save thyself and us. Among the passersby he hears many defending Jesus. He hears them repeat his words and tell of his works. The conviction comes back to him that this is the Christ. Turning to his fellow criminal, he says, thus not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation. The dying thieves have no longer anything to fear from man. But upon one of them presses the conviction that there is a God to fear, a future to cause him to tremble. And now, all sin polluted as it is, his life history is about to close. And we indeed justly he moans, for we receive the due reward of our deeds. But this man had done nothing amiss. There is no question now. There are no doubts, no reproaches. When condemned for his crime, the thief had become hopeless and despairing. But strange, tender thoughts now spring up. He calls to mind all he has heard of Jesus, how he has healed the sick and pardoned sin. He has heard the words of those who believed in Jesus and followed him weeping. He has seen and read the title above the Saviour's head. He has heard the passersby repeated, some with grieved, quivering lips, others with jesting and mockery. The Holy Spirit illuminates his mind, and little by little the chain of evidence is joined together. In Jesus, bruised, mocked, and hanging upon the cross, he sees the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world. Hope is mingled with anguish in his voice as the helpless dying soul cast himself upon a dying Saviour. Lord, remember me, he cries, when thou comest into thy kingdom. Quickly the answer came, soft and melodious the tone, full of love, compassion, and power the words. Verily I say unto thee today, Thou shalt be with me in Paradise. For long hours of agony, reviling and mockery have fallen upon the ears of Jesus. As he hangs upon the cross, there floats up to him still the sound of jeers and curses. With longing heart he has listened for some expression of faith from his disciples. He has heard only the mournful words. We trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel. How grateful then to the Saviour was the utterance of faith and love from the dying thief. While the leading Jews deny him, and even the disciples doubt his divinity, the poor thief upon the brink of eternity calls Jesus Lord. Many were ready to call him Lord when he wrought miracles, and after he had risen from the grave, but none acknowledged him as he hung dying upon the cross, save the penitent thief who was saved at the eleventh hour. The bystanders caught the words as the thief called Jesus Lord. The tone of the repentant man arrested their attention. Those who at the foot of the cross had been quarreling over Christ's garments, and casting lots upon his vestures stopped to listen. Their angry tones were hushed. With baited breath they looked upon Christ and waited for the response from those dying lips. As he spoke the words of promise, the dark cloud that seemed to enshroud the cross was pierced by a bright and living light. To the penitent thief came the perfect peace of acceptance with God. Christ in his humiliation was glorified. He who in all other eyes appeared to be conquered was a conqueror. He was acknowledged as a sin-bearer. Men may exercise power over his human body. They may pierce the holy temples with the crown of thorns. They may strip from him his raiment and quarrel over its division, but they cannot rob him of his power to forgive sins. In dying he bears testimony to his own divinity and to the glory of the Father. His ear is not heavy that it cannot hear. Neither his arms shortened that it cannot save. It is his royal right to save unto the uttermost, all who come unto God by him. I say unto thee today, Thou shalt be with me in paradise. Christ did not promise that the thief should be with him in paradise that day. He himself did not go that day to paradise. He slept in the tomb, and on the morning of the resurrection he said, I am not yet ascended to my Father, John 2017. But on the day of the crucifixion, the day of apparent defeat and darkness, the promise was given. Today, while dying upon the cross as a male factor, Christ assures the poor sinner, Thou shalt be with me in paradise. The thieves crucified with Jesus were placed on either side, one and Jesus in the midst. This was done by the direction of the priest and rulers. Christ's position between the thieves was to indicate that he was the greatest criminal of the three. Thus was fulfilled the scripture. He was numbered with the transgressors. Isaiah 5312. But the full meaning of their act the priests did not see. As Jesus crucified with the thieves was placed in the midst, so his cross was placed in the midst of a world by and sin. And the words of pardon spoken to the penitent thief, kindled a light that will shine to the earth's remotest bounds. With amazement the angels beheld the infinite love of Jesus, who suffering the most intense agony of mind and body, thought only of others, and encouraged a penitent soul to believe. In his humiliation, he as a prophet had addressed the daughters of Jerusalem. As priest and advocate, he had pleaded with the father to forgive his murderers. As a loving savior, he had forgiven the sins of the penitent thief. As the eyes of Jesus wandered over the multitude about him, one figure arrested his attention. At the foot of the cross stood his mother supported by the disciple John. She could not endure to remain away from her son. And John, knowing that the end was near, had brought her again to the cross. In his dying hour Christ remembered his mother. Looking into her grief-stricken face, and then upon John, he said to her, Woman, behold thy son, then to John, behold thy mother. John understood Christ's words, and accepted the trust. He at once took Mary to his home, and from that hour cared for her tenderly. Oh pitiful loving savior, amid all his physical pain and mental anguish, he had a thoughtful care for his mother. He had no money with which to provide for her comfort. But he was enshrined in the heart of John, and he gave his mother to him as a precious legacy. Thus he provided for her that which she most needed, the tender sympathy of one who loved her because she loved Jesus. And in receiving her as a sacred trust, John was receiving her great blessing. She was a constant reminder of his beloved master. The perfect example of Christ's filial love shines forth with undimmed luster from the midst of ages. For nearly thirty years Jesus, by his daily toil, had helped bear the burdens of the home. And now, even in his last agony, he remembered to provide for his soaring widowed mother. The same spirit will be seen in every disciple of our Lord. Those who follow Christ will feel that it is part of their religion to respect and provide for their parents. From the heart where his love is cherished, father and mother will never fail in receiving thoughtful care and tender sympathy. And now the Lord of Glory was dying, a ransom for the race. In yielding up his precious life, Christ was not upheld by triumphant joy. All was oppressive gloom. It was not the dread of death that weighed upon him. It was not the pain and ignomy of the cross that caused his inexpressible agony. Christ was the prince of sufferers. But his suffering was from a sense of the malignity of sin, a knowledge that through familiarity with evil man had become blinded to its normity. Christ saw how deep is the hold of sin upon the human heart, how few would be willing to break from its power. He knew that without help from God humanity must perish. And he saw multitudes perishing within reach of abundant help. Upon Christ, as our substitute and surety was laid the iniquity of us all, he was counted a transgressor that he might redeem us from the condemnation of the law. The guilt of every descendant of Adam was pressing upon his heart. The wrath of God against sin, the terrible manifestation of his displeasure because of iniquity, filled the soul of his son with consternation. All his life Christ had been publishing to a fallen world the good news of the Father's mercy and pardoning love. Salvation for the chief of sinners was his theme. But now with the terrible weight of guilt he bears, he cannot see the Father's reconciling face. The withdrawal of the divine countenance from the Saviour in this hour of supreme anguish pierced his heart with a sorrow that can never be fully understood by man. So great was this agony that his physical pain was hardly felt. Satan with his fierce temptations rung the heart of Jesus. The Saviour could not see through the portals of the tomb. Hope did not present to him his coming forth from the grave a conqueror or tell him of the Father's acceptance of the sacrifice. He feared that sin was so offensive to God that their separation was to be eternal. Christ felt the anguish which a sinner will feel when mercy shall no longer plead for the guilty race. It was the sense of sin bringing the Father's wrath upon him as man's substitute that made the cup he drank so bitter and broke the heart of the Son of God. With amazement angels witnessed the Saviour's despairing agony. The hosts of heaven veiled their faces from the fearful sight. Inanimate nature expressed sympathy with its insulted and dying author. The Son refused to look upon the awful scene. Its full bright rays were illuminating the earth at midday when suddenly it seemed to be blotted out. Complete darkness like a funeral pall enveloped the cross. There was darkness over all the land unto the ninth hour. There was no eclipse or other natural cause for this darkness which was as deep as midnight without moon or stars. It was a miraculous testimony given by God that the faith of after generations might be confirmed. In that thick darkness God's presence was hidden. He makes darkness his pavilion and conceals his glory from human eyes. God and his Holy Angels were beside the cross. The Father was with his Son. Yet his presence was not revealed. Had his glory flashed forth from the cloud, every human beholder would have been destroyed. And in that dreadful hour Christ was not to be comforted with the Father's presence. He trod the wine press alone. And of the people there was none with him. In the thick darkness God veiled the last human agony of his Son. All who had seen Christ in his suffering had been convicted of his divinity. That face, once beheld by humanity, was never forgotten. As the face of Cain expressed his guilt as a murderer, so the face of Christ revealed innocence, serenity, benevolence, the image of God. But as accusers would not give heed to the signet of heaven, through long hours of agony Christ had been gazed upon by the jeering multitude, now he was mercifully hidden by the mantle of God. The silence of the grave seemed to have fallen upon Calvary. Unnameless terror held the throng that was gathered about the cross. The cursing and reviling ceased in the midst of half uttered sentences. Men, women, and children fell prostrate upon the earth. Vivid lightnings occasionally flashed forth from the cloud and revealed the cross and the crucified Redeemer. Priest, rulers, scribes, executioners in the mob all thought that their time of retribution had come. After a while some whispered that Jesus would now come down from the cross. Some attempted to grope their way back to the city, beating their breast and wailing in fear. At the ninth hour the darkness lifted from the people. But still enveloped the Savior. It was a symbol of the agony and horror that weighed upon his heart. No eye could pierce the gloom that surrounded the cross, and none could penetrate the deeper gloom that enshrouded the suffering soul of Christ. The angry lightning seemed to be hurled at him as he hung upon the cross. Then Jesus cried with a loud voice saying, Eloi, Eloi, lamas a bhaktani! My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? As the outer gloom settled about the Savior. Many voices exclaimed. The vengeance of heaven is upon him. The bolts of God's wrath are hurled at him because he claimed to be the Son of God. Many who believed on him heard his despairing cry. Hope left them. If God had forsaken Jesus, in what could his followers trust? When the darkness lifted from the oppressed spirit of Christ, he revived to a sense of physical suffering, and said, I thirst. One of the Roman soldiers, touched with pity as he looked at the parched lips, took a sponge on a stalk of hyssop, and dipping it in a vessel of vinegar offered it to Jesus. But the priest mocked at his agony. When darkness covered the earth, they had been filled with fear. As their terror abated, the dread return that Jesus would yet escape them. His words, Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabaccini. They had misinterpreted. With bitter contempt and scorn, they said, this man calleth for Elias. The last opportunity to relieve his sufferings, they refused. Let be, they said. Let us see whether Elias will come to save him. The spotless Son of God hung upon the cross. His flesh lacerated with stripes. Those hands so often reached out in blessing, nailed to the wooden bars. Those feet so tireless on ministries of love spiked to the tree. That royal head pierced by the crown of thorns. Those quivering lips shaped to the cry of woe. And all that he endured. The blood drops that flowed from his head. His hands, his feet, the agony that wracked his frame, and the unutterable anguish that filled his soul at the hiding of his father's face, speaks to each child of humanity declaring, It is for thee that the Son of God consents to bear this burden of guilt. For thee he spoils the domain of death and opens the gates of paradise. He who stilled the angry waves and walked the foam-capped billows, who made devils tremble in disease flea, who opened blind eyes and called forth the dead to life, offers himself upon the cross as a sacrifice. And this, from love to thee, he the sin-bearer endures a wrath of divine justice, and for thy sake becomes sin itself. In silence the beholders watched for the end of the fearful scene. The sun shone forth, but the cross was still enveloped in darkness. Priests and rulers looked toward Jerusalem, and lo, the dense cloud had settled over the city in the plains of Judea. The Son of Righteousness, the light of the world, was withdrawing his beams from the once-favored city of Jerusalem. The fierce lightnings of God's wrath were directed against the faded city. Suddenly the gloom lifted from the cross, and in clear trumpet-like tones that seemed to resound throughout creation, Jesus cried, It is finished. Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. A light encircled the cross, and the face of the Saviour shone with a glory like the Son. He then bowed his head upon his breast, and died. Amid the awful darkness, apparently forsaken of God, Christ had drained the last dregs in the cup of human woe. In those dreadful hours he had relied upon the evidence of his father's acceptance, here to fore given him. He was acquainted with the character of his father. He understood his justice, his mercy, and his great love. By faith he rested in him, whom it had ever been his joy to obey. And as in submission he committed himself to God, the sense of the loss of his father's favour was withdrawn. By faith Christ was victor. Never before had the earth witnessed such a scene. The multitude stood paralyzed, and with bated breath gazed upon the Saviour. Again darkness settled upon the earth, and a horse rumbling like heavy thunder was heard. There was a violent earthquake. The people were shaken together in heaps. The wildest confusion and consternation ensued. In the surrounding mountains, rocks were rent asunder, and went crashing down into the plains. Seplickers were broken open, and the dead were cast out of their tombs. Creation seemed to be shivering to Adams. Priests, rulers, soldiers, executioners, and people, mute with terror lay prostrate upon the ground. When the loud cry, It is finished, came from the lips of Christ. The priest were officiating in the temple. It was the hour of the evening sacrifice. The lamb representing Christ had been brought to be slain. Clothed in his significant and beautiful dress, the priest stood with lifted knife, as did Abraham when he was about to slay his son. With intense interest the people were looking on. But the earth trembles and quakes, for the Lord himself draws near. With a rending noise, the inner veil of the temple is torn from top to bottom by an unseen hand, throwing open to the gaze of the multitude, a place once filled with the presence of God. In this place the Shekinah had dwelt. Here God had manifested his glory above the mercy seat. No one but the high priest ever lifted the veil, separating this apartment from the rest of the temple. He entered in once a year to make it a toment for the sins of the people. But lo, this veil is rent and twain. The most holy place of the earthly sanctuary is no longer sacred. All is terror and confusion. The priest is about to slay the victim, but the knife drops from his nervous hand, and the lamb escapes. Type has met anti-type in the death of God's son. The great sacrifice has been made. The way into the holiest is laid open. A new and living way is prepared for all. No longer needs sinful, sorrowing humanity await the coming of the high priest. Henceforth the Saviour was to officiate as priest and advocate in the Heaven of Heavens. It was as if a living voice had spoken to the worshipers. There is now an end to all sacrifices and offerings for sin. The Son of God has come, according to his word. Lo, I come! In the volume of the book it is written of me. To do thy will, O God. By his own blood he entereth in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us. Hebrews 10, 7, and 9, 12. End of chapter 78. Read by Donald Hines. Fredericksburg, Texas. Chapter 79. The Desire of Ages by Ellen G. White. The Slubervox recording is in the public domain. It is finished. Christ did not yield up his life till he had accomplished the work which he came to do, and with his parting breath he exclaimed, It is finished. John 1930. The battle had been won. His right hand and his holy arm had gotten him the victory. As a conqueror he planted his banner on the eternal heights. Was there not joy among the angels? All Heaven triumphed in the Saviour's victory. Satan was defeated and knew that his kingdom was lost. To the angels in the unfallen worlds a cry, It is finished, had a deep significance. It was for them, as well as for us, that the great work of redemption had been accomplished. They with us share the fruits of Christ's victory. Not until the death of Christ was the character of Satan clearly revealed to the angels or to the unfallen worlds. The archipostate had so clothed themselves with deception that even holy beings had not understood his principles. They had not clearly seen the nature of his rebellion. It was a being of wonderful power and glory that had set himself against God. A Lucifer, the Lord says, Thou sealest up the sum, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty. Ezekiel 2812. Lucifer had been the covering cherub. He had stood in the light of God's presence. He had been the highest of all created beings, and had been foremost in revealing God's purposes to the universe. After he had sinned, his power to deceive was the more deceptive, and the unveiling of his character was the more difficult because of the exalted position he had held with the Father. God could have destroyed Satan and his sympathizers as easily as one can cast a pebble to the earth. But he did not do this. Rebellion was not to be overcome by force. Compelling power is found only under Satan's government. The Lord's principles are not of this order. His authority rests upon goodness, mercy, and love, and the presentation of these principles is the means to be used. God's government is moral, and truth and love are to be the prevailing power. It was God's purpose to place things on an eternal basis of security, and in the Councils of Heaven it was decided that time must be given for Satan to develop the principles which were the foundation of his system of government. He had claimed that these were superior to God's principles. Time was given for the working of Satan's principles, that they might be seen by the heavenly universe. Satan led men into sin, and the plan of redemption was put in operation. For four thousand years Christ was working for man's uplifting, and Satan for his ruin and degradation, and the heavenly universe beheld it all. When Jesus came into the world, Satan's power was turned against him. From the time when he appeared as a babe in Bethlehem, the usurper worked to bring about his destruction. In every possible way he sought to prevent Jesus from developing a perfect childhood, a faultless manhood, a holy ministry, and an unblemished sacrifice. But he was defeated. He could not lead Jesus into sin. He could not discourage him or drive him from a work he had come on earth to do. From the desert to Calvary, the storm of Satan's wrath beat upon him. But the more mercilessly it fell, the more firmly did the Son of God cling to the hand of his Father, and press on in the bloodstained path. All the efforts of Satan to oppress and overcome him only brought out in a pure light his spotless character. All heaven and the unfallen worlds had been witnesses to the controversy. With what intense interest did they follow the closing scenes of the conflict? They beheld the Savior into the Garden of Gethsemane. His soul bowed down with the whore of a great darkness. They heard his bitter cry. Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me. Matthew 2639. As the Father's presence was withdrawn, they saw him sorrowful with the bitterness of sorrow exceeding that of the last great struggle with death. The bloody sweat was forced from his pores, and fell in drops upon the ground. Thrice, the prayer for deliverance, was wrung from his lips. Heaven could no longer endure the sight, and a messenger of comfort was sent to the Son of God. Heaven beheld the victim betrayed into the hands of the murderous mob, and with mockery and violence hurried from one tribunal to another. It heard the sneers of his persecutors because of his lowly birth. It heard the denial with cursing and swearing by one of his best-loved disciples. It saw the frenzied work of Satan, and his power over the hearts of men. Oh, fearful scene! The Savior seized at midnight in Gethsemane, dragged to and fro from palace to judgment hall, arraigned twice before the priest, twice before the Sanhedrin, twice before Pilate, and once before Herod, mocked, scourged, condemned, and let out to be crucified, bearing the heavy burden of the cross amid the wailing of the daughters of Jerusalem and the jeering of the rabble. Heaven viewed with grief and amazement Christ hanging upon the cross, blood flowing from his wounded temples, and sweat tinned with blood standing upon his brow. From his hands and feet the blood fell drop by drop upon the rock drilled for the foot of the cross. The wounds made by the nails gaped as the weight of his body dragged upon his hands. His labored breath grew quick and deep, as his soul panted under the burden of the sins of the world. All heaven was filled with wonder when the prayer of Christ was offered in the midst of his terrible suffering. Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. Luke 23 34 Yet there stood men formed in the image of God joining to crush out the life of his only begotten Son. What a sight for the heavenly universe. The principalities and powers of darkness were assembled around the cross, casting the hellish shadow of unbelief into the hearts of men. When the Lord created these beings to stand before his throne, they were beautiful and glorious. Their loveliness and holiness were in accordance with their exalted station. They were enriched with the wisdom of God and girded with the panoply of heaven. They were Jehovah's ministers. But who could recognize in the fallen angels the glorious seraphim that once ministered in the heavenly courts? Satanic agencies confederated with evil men in leading the people to believe Christ the chief of sinners and to make him the object of detestation. Those who mocked Christ as he hung upon the cross were imbued with the spirit of the first great rebel. He filled them with vile and loathsome speeches. He inspired their taunts. But by all this he gained nothing. Could one sin have been found in Christ? Had he in one particular yielded to Satan to escape the terrible torture, the enemy of God and man would have triumphed. Christ bowed his head and died. But he held fast his faith and his submission to God. And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now has come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ, for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night. Revelation 12.10. Satan saw that his disguise was torn away. His administration was laid open before the unfallen angels and before the heavenly universe. He had revealed himself as a murderer. By shedding the blood of the Son of God, he had uprooted himself from the sympathies of the heavenly beings. Henceforth his work was restricted. Whatever attitude he might assume, he could no longer await the angels as they came from the heavenly courts, and before them accused Christ's brethren of being clothed with the garments of blackness and the defilement of sin. The last link of sympathy between Satan and the heavenly world was broken. Yet Satan was not then destroyed. The angels did not even then understand all that was involved in the Great Controversy. The principles at stake were to be more fully revealed. And for the sake of man Satan's existence must be continued. Man as well as angels must see the contrast between the Prince of Light and the Prince of Darkness. He must choose whom he will serve. In the opening of the Great Controversy, Satan had declared that the law of God could not be obeyed, that justice was inconsistent with mercy, and that should the law be broken, it would be impossible for the sinner to be pardoned. Every sin must meet its punishment, urged Satan. And if God should remit the punishment of sin, he would not be a God of truth and justice. When men broke the law of God and defied his will, Satan exalted. It was proved, he declared, that the law could not be obeyed, man could not be forgiven. Because he, after his rebellion, had been banished from heaven, Satan claimed that the human race must be forever shut out from God's favor. God could not be just, he urged, and yet show mercy to the sinner. But even as a sinner, man was in a different position from that of Satan. Lucifer in heaven had sinned in the light of God's glory. To him as to no other created being was given a revelation of God's love. Understanding the character of God, knowing his goodness, Satan chose to follow his own selfish independent will. This choice was final. There was no more that God could do to save him. But man was deceived, his mind was darkened by Satan's sophistry, the heightened depth of the love of God he did not know. For him there was hope in a knowledge of God's love. By beholding his character, he might be drawn back to God. Through Jesus, God's mercy was manifested to men. But mercy does not set aside justice. The law reveals the attributes of God's character, and not a jot or a tittle of it could be changed to meet man in his fallen condition. God did not change his law, but he sacrificed himself in Christ for man's redemption. God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself. Second Corinthians 519. The law requires righteousness, a righteous life, a perfect character, and this man has not to give. He cannot meet the claims of God's holy law. But Christ, coming to the earth as man, lived a holy life, and developed a perfect character. These he offers as a free gift to all who will receive them. His life stands for the life of men. Thus they have remission of sins that are passed through the forbearance of God. More than this, Christ imbues men with the attributes of God. He builds up the human character after the similitude of the divine character, a goodly fabric of spiritual strength and beauty. Thus the very righteousness of the law is fulfilled in the believer in Christ. God can be just and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus. Romans 3.26. God's love has been expressed in his justice no less than in his mercy. Justice is a foundation of his throne and the fruit of his love. It had been Satan's purpose to divorce mercy from truth and justice. He sought to prove that the righteousness of God's law is an enemy to peace. But Christ shows that in God's plan they are indissolubly joined together. The one cannot exist without the other. Mercy and truth are met together. Righteousness and peace have kissed each other. Psalms 85.10. By his life and his death Christ proved that God's justice did not destroy his mercy, but that sin could be forgiven, and that the law is righteous and could be perfectly obeyed. Satan's charges were refuted. God had given man unmistakable evidence of his love. Another deception was now to be brought forward. Satan declared that mercy destroyed justice, that the death of Christ abrogated the Father's law. Had it been possible for the law to be changed or abrogated, then Christ need not have died. But to abrogate the law would be to immortalize transgression and place the world under Satan's control. It was because the law was changeless, because man could be saved only through obedience to its precepts, that Jesus was lifted up on the cross. Yet the very means by which Christ established the law Satan represented is destroying it. Here will come the last conflict of the great controversy between Christ and Satan. That the law which was spoken by God's own voice is faulty, that some specification has been set aside, is the claim which Satan now puts forward. It is the last great deception that he will bring upon the world. He needs not to assail the whole law. If he can lead men to disregard one precept, his purpose is gained. For whosoever shall keep the whole law and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all. James 2.10 By consenting to break one precept, men are brought under Satan's power. By substituting human law for God's law, Satan will seek to control the world. This work is foretold in prophecy. Of the great apostate power which is a representative of Satan, it is declared, he shall speak great words against the most high, and shall wear out the saints of the most high, and think to change times and laws, and they shall be given into his hand. Daniel 7.25 Men will surely set up their laws to counter work the laws of God. They will seek to compel the consciences of others, and in their zeal to enforce these laws they will oppress their fellow men. The warfare against God's law, which was begun in heaven, will be continued until the end of time. Every man will be tested. Obedience or disobedience is the question to be decided by the whole world. All will be called to choose between the law of God and the laws of men. Here the dividing line will be drawn. There will be but two classes. Every character will be fully developed, and all will show whether they have chosen the side of loyalty or that of rebellion. Then the end will come. God will vindicate his law and deliver his people. Satan and all who have joined him in rebellion will be cut off. Sin and sinners will perish, root and branch. Balakai 4.1 Satan the root and his followers the branches. The word will be fulfilled to the Prince of Evil. Because thou hast set thine heart as the heart of God, I will destroy thee, O covering cherub, from the midst of the stones of fire. Thou shalt be a terror, and never shalt thou be any more. Then the wicked shall not be, yea, thou shalt diligently consider his place, and it shall not be. They shall be as though they had not been. Is he equal 28, 6 to 19? Psalm 37, 10. Obediah 16. This is not an act of arbitrary power on the part of God. The rejecters of his mercy reap that which they have sown. God is the fountain of life, and when one chooses the service of sin he separates from God, and thus cuts himself off from life. He is alienated from the life of God. Christ says, all they that hate me love death. Ephesians 4, 18, Proverbs 8, 36. God gives them existence for a time that they may develop their character and reveal their principles. This accomplished, they receive the results of their own choice. By life of rebellion Satan and all who unite with him place himself so out of harmony with God that his very presence is to them a consuming fire. The glory of him who is love will destroy them. At the beginning of the great controversy the angels did not understand this. Had Satan and his host then been left to reap the full result of their sin they would have perished, but it would not have been apparent to heavenly beings that this was the inevitable result of sin. A doubt of God's goodness would have remained in their minds as evil seed to produce its deadly fruit of sin and woe. But not so when the great controversy shall be ended. Then the plan of redemption having been completed the character of God is revealed to all created intelligences. The precepts of his law are seen to be perfect and immutable. Then sin has made manifest its nature, Satan his character. Then the extermination of sin will vindicate God's love and establish his honor before a universe of beings who delight to do his will and in whose heart is his law. Well then might the angels rejoice as they looked upon the Savior's cross for though they did not then understand all they knew that the destruction of sin and Satan was forever made certain that the redemption of man was assured and that the universe was made eternally secure. Christ himself fully comprehended the results of the sacrifice made upon Calvary. To all these he looked forward when upon the cross he cried out, It is finished. The Son of God lay in quietude in Joseph's tomb. His work completed. His hands folded in peace. He rested through the sacred hours of the Sabbath day. In the beginning the Father and the Son had rested upon the Sabbath after their work of creation. When the heavens and the earth were finished and all the host of them, Genesis 2.1. The Creator and all heavenly beings rejoiced in contemplation of the glorious scene. The morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy. Job 38.7. Now Jesus rested from the work of redemption. And though there was grief among those who loved him on earth, yet there was joy in heaven. Glorious to the eyes of heavenly beings was the promise of the future. A restored creation. A redeemed race that having conquered sin could never fall. This the result to flow from Christ's completed work. God and angels saw. With this scene the day upon which Jesus rested is forever linked. For his work is perfect. And whatsoever God doeth it shall be forever. Deuteronomy 32.4 Ecclesiastes 3.14. When there shall be a restitution of all things which God has spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began. Acts 3.21. The creation Sabbath, the day on which Jesus lay at rest in Joseph's tomb will still be a day of rest and rejoicing. Heaven and earth will unite in praise as from one Sabbath to another. Isaiah 66.23. The nations of the saved shall bow in joyful worship to God and the Lamb. In the closing events of the crucifixion day fresh evidence was given of the fulfillment of prophecy and new witness born to Christ's divinity. When the darkness had lifted from the cross and the Savior's dying cry had been uttered immediately another voice was heard saying, Truly this was the Son of God. Matthew 27.54 These words were said in no whispered tones. All eyes were turned to see whence they came. Who had spoken? It was the Centurion, the Roman soldier, the divine patience of the Savior, and his sudden death with the cry of victory upon his lips had impressed this heathen. In the bruised broken body hanging upon the cross the Centurion recognized the form of the Son of God. He could not refrain from confessing his faith. Thus again evidence was given that our Redeemer was to see of the travail of his soul. Upon the very day of his death three men differing widely from one another had declared their faith. He who commanded the Roman guard, he who bore the cross of the Savior, and he who died upon the cross at his side. As evening drew on an unearthly stillness hung over cavalry. The crowd dispersed and many returned to Jerusalem greatly changed in spirit from what they had been in the morning. Many had flocked to the crucifixion from curiosity and not from hatred toward Christ. Still they believed the accusations of the priests and looked upon Christ as a malfactor. Under an unnatural excitement they had united with the mob and railing against him. But when the earth was wrapped in blackness and they stood accused by their own consciences they felt guilty of a great wrong. No gesture mocking laughter was heard in the midst of that fearful gloom. And when it was lifted they made their way to their homes in solemn silence. They were convinced that the charges of the priest were false, that Jesus was no pretender. And a few weeks later, when Peter preached upon the day of Pentecost, they were among the thousands who became converts to Christ. But the Jewish leaders were unchanged by the events they had witnessed. Their hatred of Jesus had not abated. The darkness that had mantled the earth at the crucifixion was not more dense than that which still enveloped the minds of the priests and rulers. At his birth the star had known Christ and had guided the wise men to the manger where he lay. The heavenly host had known him and had sung his praise over the plains of Bethlehem. The sea had known his voice and it obeyed his command. Disease and death had recognized his authority and had yielded to him their prey. The sun had known him and at the side of his dying anguish had hidden its face of light. The rocks had known him and had shivered into fragments at his cry. In animate nature had known Christ and had borne witness to his divinity. But the priests and rulers of Israel knew not the Son of God. Yet the priests and rulers were not at rest. They had carried out their purpose in putting Christ to death. But they did not feel the sense of victory they had expected. Even in the hour of their apparent triumph they were harassed with doubts as to what would next take place. They had heard the cry. It is finished. Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. John 19.30, Luke 23.46. They had seen the rocks rent and had felt the mighty earthquake. And they were restless and uneasy. They had been jealous of Christ's influence with the people when living. They were jealous of him even in death. They dreaded the dead Christ more, far more than they had ever feared the living Christ. They dreaded to have the attention of the people directed any further to the events attending his crucifixion. They feared the results of that day's work. Not on any account would they have had his body remain on the cross during the Sabbath. The Sabbath was now drawing on. And it would be a violation of its sanctity for the bodies to hang upon the cross. So using this as a pretext, the leading Jews requested Pilate that the death of the victims might be hastened and their bodies removed before the setting of the sun. Pilate was as unwilling as they for the body of Jesus to remain upon the cross. His consent having been obtained, the legs of the two thieves were broken to hasten their death. But Jesus was found to be already dead. The rude soldiers had been softened by what they had heard and seen of Christ, and they were restrained from breaking his limbs. Thus in the offering of the Lamb of God was fulfilled the law of the Passover. They shall leave none of it unto the morning, nor break any bone of it, according to all the ordinances of the Passover. They shall keep it. Numbers 9, 12. The priests and rulers were amazed to find that Christ was dead. Death by the cross was a lingering process. It was difficult to determine when life had ceased. It was an unheard of thing for one to die within six hours of crucifixion. The priests wished to make sure of the death of Jesus, and at their suggestion a soldier thrust a spear into the Savior's side. From the wound thus made, there flowed two copious and distinct streams, one of blood, the other of water. This was noted by all the beholders, and John states the occurrence very definitely. He says, One of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side, and forthwith came there out blood and water, and he that saw it bear record, and his record is true, and he knoweth that he saith true, that ye might believe. For these things were done, that the scripture should be fulfilled. A bone of him shall not be broken, and again another scripture saith, they shall look on him whom they pierced. John 19, 34, 37 After the resurrection, the priests and rulers circulated the report that Christ did not die upon the cross, that he merely fainted, and was afterward revived. Another report affirmed that it was not a real body of flesh and bone, but the likeness of a body that was laid in the tomb. The action of the Roman soldiers disproves these falsehoods. They broke not his legs, because he was already dead. To satisfy the priests they pierced his side, had not life been already extinct, this wound would have caused instant death. But it was not the spear thrust, it was not the pain of the cross that caused the death of Jesus. That cry uttered with a loud voice. Matthew 27, 50, Luke 23, 46. At the moment of death, the stream of blood and water that flowed from his side declared that he died of a broken heart. His heart was broken by mental anguish. He was slain by the sin of the world. With the death of Christ, the hopes of his disciples perished. They looked upon his closed eyelids and drooping head, his hair matted with blood, his pierced hands and feet, and their anguish was indescribable. Until the last they had not believed that he would die. They could hardly believe that he was really dead. Overwhelmed with sorrow, they did not recall his words for telling this very scene. Nothing that he had said now gave them comfort. They saw only the cross and its bleeding victim. The future seemed dark with despair. Their faith in Jesus had perished, but never had they loved their Lord as now. Never before had they so felt his worth and their need of his presence. Even in death Christ's body was very precious to his disciples. They longed to give him an honored burial, but knew not how to accomplish this. Treason against the Roman government was a crime for which Jesus was condemned, and persons put to death for this offense were consigned to a burial ground especially provided for such criminals. The disciple John with the women from Galilee had remained at the cross. They could not leave the body of their Lord to be handled by the unfeeling soldiers and buried in a dishonored grave. Yet they could not prevent it. They could obtain no favors from the Jewish authorities, and they had no influence with Pilate. In this emergency Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus came to the help of the disciples. Both these men were members of the Sanhedrin and were acquainted with Pilate. Both were men of wealth and influence. They were determined that the body of Jesus should have an honorable burial. Joseph went boldly to Pilate and begged from him the body of Jesus. For the first time Pilate learned that Jesus was really dead. Conflicting reports had reached him in regard to the events attending the crucifixion, but the knowledge of Christ's death had been purposely kept from him. Pilate had been warned by the priests and rulers against deception by Christ's disciples in regard to his body. Upon hearing Joseph's request he therefore sent for the centurion who had charged at the cross and learned for certainty of the death of Jesus. He also drew from him an account of the scenes of Calvary confirming the testimony of Joseph. The request of Joseph was granted. While John was troubled about the burial of his master, Joseph returned with Pilate's order for the body of Christ and Nicodemus came bringing a costly mixture of myrrh and allows of about a hundred pounds weight for his embalming. The most honored in all Jerusalem could not have been shown more respect and death. The disciples were astonished to see these wealthy rulers as much interested as they themselves in the burial of their Lord. Neither Joseph nor Nicodemus had openly accepted the Savior while he was living. They knew that such a step would exclude them from the Sanhedrin, and they hoped to protect him by their influence in its councils. For a time they had seemed to succeed, but the wily priest, seeing their favor to Christ, had thwarted their plans. In their absence Jesus had been condemned and delivered to be crucified. Now that he was dead, they no longer concealed their attachment to him, while the disciples feared to show themselves openly as his followers. Joseph and Nicodemus came boldly to their aid. The help of these rich and honored men was greatly needed at this time. They could do for their dead master what it was impossible for the poor disciples to do, and their wealth and influence protected them in a great measure from the malice of the priests and rulers. Gently and reverently they removed with their own hands the body of Jesus from the cross. Their tears of sympathy fell fast as they looked upon his bruised and lacerated form. Joseph owned a new tomb, hewn in a rock. This he was reserving for himself, but it was near Calary, and he now prepared it for Jesus. The body, together with the spices brought by Nicodemus, was carefully wrapped in a linen sheet, and the Redeemer was born to the tomb. There the three disciples straightened the mangled limbs, and folded the bruised hands upon the pulseless breast. The Galilean women came to see that all had been done that could be done for the lifeless form of their beloved teacher. Then they saw the heavy stone rolled against the entrance of the tomb, and the Savior was left at rest. The women were last at the cross, and last at the tomb of Christ. While the evening shades were gathering, Mary Magdalene and the other Marys lingered about the resting place of their Lord, shedding tears of sorrow over the fate of him whom they loved. And they returned, and rested the Sabbath day, according to the commandment. Luke 23, 56. That was a never to be forgotten Sabbath to the sorrowing disciples, and also to the priest rulers, scribes, and people. At the setting of the sun on the evening of the preparation day, the trumpet sounded, signifying that the Sabbath had begun. The Passover was observed as it had been for centuries, while he to whom it pointed had been slain by wicked hands, and lay in Joseph's tomb. On the Sabbath, the courts of the temple were filled with worshipers. The high priest from Golgotha was there, splendidly robed in his sacerdotal garments. White-turban priests full of activity performed their duties. But some present were not at rest, as the blood of bulls and goats was offered for sin. They were not conscious that type had met anti-type, that an infinite sacrifice had been made for the sins of the world. They knew not that there was no further value in the performance of the ritual service, but never before had that service been witnessed with such conflicting feelings. The trumpets and musical instruments and the voices of the singers were as loud and clear as usual. But a sense of strangeness pervaded everything. One after another inquired about a strange event that had taken place. Hitherto the most holy place had been sacredly guarded from intrusion, but now it was open to all eyes. The heavy veil of tapestry, made of pure linen and beautifully wrought with gold, scarlet, and purple, was rent from top to bottom. The place where Jehovah had met with the high priest to communicate his glory, the place that had been God's sacred audience chamber, lay open to every eye. A place no longer recognized by the Lord. With gloomy presentiments the priest ministered before the altar. The uncovering of the sacred mystery of the most holy place filled them with dread of coming calamity. Many minds were busy with thoughts started by the scenes of cavalry. From the crucifixion to the resurrection many sleepless eyes were constantly searching the prophecies, some to learn the full meaning of the feast they were then celebrating, some to find evidence that Jesus was not what he claimed to be, and others with sorrowful hearts were searching for proofs that he was the true Messiah. Though searching with different objects and view all were convicted of the same truth, that prophecy had been fulfilled in the events of the past few days and that the crucified one was the world redeemer. Many who at that time united in the service never again took part in the paschal rites. Many even of the priests were convicted of the true character of Jesus. Their searching of the prophecies had not been in vain, and after his resurrection they acknowledged him as the Son of God. Nicodemus, when he saw Jesus lifted up on the cross, remembered his word spoken by night in the Mount of Olives. As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life. John 3, 14, 15. On that Sabbath, when Christ lay in the grave, Nicodemus had opportunity for reflection. A clear light now illuminated his mind, and the words which Jesus had spoken to him were no longer mysterious. He felt that he had lost much by not connecting himself with the Savior during his life. Now he recalled the events of Calvary. The prayer of Christ for his murderers, and his answer to the petition of the dying thief, spoke to the heart of the learned counselor. Again he looked upon the Savior in his agony. Again he heard that last cry. It is finished, spoken like the words of a conqueror. Again he beheld the reeling earth, the darkened heavens, the rent veil, the shivered rocks, and his faith was forever established. The very event that destroyed the hopes of the disciples, convinced Joseph and Nicodemus of the divinity of Jesus, their fears were overcome by the courage of a firm and unwavering faith. Never had Christ attracted the attention of the multitude as now that he was laid in the tomb. According to their practice, the people brought their sick and suffering ones to the temple courts, inquiring who can tell us of Jesus of Nazareth. Many had come from far to find him who had healed the sick and raised the dead. On every side was heard the cry, We want Christ the healer. Upon this occasion, those who were thought to show indications of the leprosy were examined by the priests. Many were forced to hear their husbands, wives, or children pronounced leprous, and doomed to go forth from the shelter of their homes and the care of their friends to warn off the stranger with the mournful cry. Unclean, unclean! The friendly hands of Jesus of Nazareth that never refused to touch with healing the loathsome leper were folded on his breast. The lips that had answered his petition with the comforting words, I will be thou clean. Matthew 8.3. We are now silent. Many appealed to the chief priests and rulers for sympathy and relief, but in vain. Apparently they were determined to have the living Christ among them again. With persistent earnestness they asked for him. They would not be turned away, but they were driven from the temple courts, and soldiers were stationed at the gates to keep back the multitude that came with their sick and dying, demanding entrance. The sufferers who had come to be healed by the Savior sank under their disappointment. The streets were filled with mourning. The sick were dying for want of the healing touch of Jesus. Physicians were consulted in vain. There was no skill like that of him who lay in Joseph's tomb. The mourning cries of the suffering ones brought home to thousands of minds the conviction that a great light had gone out of the world. Without Christ the earth was blackness and darkness. Many whose voices had swelled the cry of crucify him, crucify him, now realized the calamity that had fallen upon them, and would as eagerly have cried, give us Jesus had he still been alive. When the people learned that Jesus had been put to death by the priest, inquiries were made regarding his death. The particulars of his trial were kept as private as possible, but during the time when he was in the grave his name was on thousands of lips and reports of his mock trial and of the inhumanity of the priest and rulers were circulated everywhere. By men of intellect these priest and rulers were called upon to explain the prophecies of the Old Testament concerning the Messiah and while trying to frame some falsehood in reply they became like men insane. The prophecies appointed to Christ's sufferings and death they could not explain and many inquirers were convinced that the scriptures had been fulfilled. The revenge which the priest had thought would be so sweet was already bitterness to them. They knew that they were meeting the severe censure of the people. They knew that the very ones whom they had influenced against Jesus were now horrified by their own shameful work. These priests had tried to believe Jesus a deceiver, but it was in vain. Some of them had stood by the grave of Lazarus and had seen the dead brought back to life. They trembled for fear that Christ would himself rise from the dead and again appear before them. They had heard him declare that he had power to lay down his life and to take it again. They remembered that he had said, destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up. Jesus had told them the words spoken by Jesus to the disciples while on the last journey to Jerusalem. Behold, we go up to Jerusalem and the Son of Man shall be betrayed unto the chief priest and unto the scribes, and they shall condemn him to death and shall deliver him to the Gentiles to mock and to scourge and to crucify him. And the third day he shall rise again, Matthew 20, 18 and 19. When they heard these words they had mocked and ridiculed, but now they remembered that Christ's predictions had so far been fulfilled. He had said that he would rise again the third day, and who could say that this also would not come to pass? They longed to shut out these thoughts, but they could not, like their father the devil. They believed and trembled. Now that the frenzy of excitement was passed, the image of Christ would intrude upon their minds. They beheld him as he stood, serene and uncomplaining before his enemies, suffering without a murmur, their taunts and abuse, all the events of his trial and crucifixion came back to them with an overpowering conviction that he was the Son of God. They felt that he might at any time stand before them, the accused to become the accuser, the condemned to condemn, the slain to demand justice in the death of his murderers. They could rest little upon the Sabbath, though they would not step over a Gentile's threshold for fear defilement, yet they held a counsel concerning the body of Christ. Death and the grave must hold him, whom they had crucified. The chief priests and Pharisees came together under Pilate, saying, Sir, we remember that that deceiver said while he was yet alive, after three days I will rise again. Command therefore that the sepulcher be made sure until the third day lest his disciples come by night and steal him away and say unto the people he is risen from the dead, so the last error shall be worse to the first. Pilate said unto them, Ye have a watch, go your way, make it as sure as you can. Matthew 27, 62 to 65. The priests gave directions for securing the sepulcher. A great stone had been placed before the opening. Across this stone they placed cords securing the ends to the solid rock, and sealing them with the Roman seal. The stone could not be moved without breaking the seal. A guard of one hundred soldiers was then stationed around the sepulcher to prevent it from being tampered with. The priests did all they could to keep Christ's body where it had been laid. He was sealed as securely in his tomb, as if he were to remain there through all time. So weak men counseled and planned. Little did these murderers realize the uselessness of their efforts. But by their action, God was glorified, the very efforts made to prevent Christ's resurrection are the most convincing arguments in its proof. The greater the number of soldiers placed around the tomb, the stronger would be the testimony that he had risen. Hundreds of years before the death of Christ, the Holy Spirit had declared through the psalmist. Why do the heathen rage and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord, and against as anointed. He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh, the Lord shall have them in derision. Psalms 2.1-4. Roman guards and Roman arms were powerless to confine the Lord of life within the tomb. The hour of his release was near. End of chapter 80, read by Donald Hines, Fredericksburg, Texas.