Chapter XV
(St. Matt. xxvii. 31-43: St. Mark xv. 20-32(a); St. Luke xxiii. 26-38; St. John xix. 16-24; St. Matt. xxviii. 44; St. Mark xv. 32(b); St. Luke xxiii. 39-43; St. Johnxix. 25-27; St. Matt. xxvii. 45-56; St. Mark xv. 33-41; St. Luke xxiii. 44-49; St. John xix. 28-30; St. John xix. 31-37; St. Matt. xxvii. 57-61; St. Mark xv. 42-47; St. Luke xxiii. 50-56; St. John xix. 38-42; St. Matt. xxvii. 62-66.)
It matters little as regards their guilt, whether, pressing the language of St. John, [a St. John xix. 16.] we are to understand that Pilate delivered Jesus to the Jews to be crucified, or, as we rather infer, to his own soldiers. This was the common practice, and it accords both with the Governor's former taunt to the Jews, [b ver. 6.] and with the after-notice of the Synoptists. They, to whom He was 'delivered,' 'led Him away to be crucified:' and they who so led Him forth 'compelled' the Cyrenian Simon to bear the Cross. We can scarcely imagine, that the Jews, still
less the Sanhedrists, would have done this. But whether formally or not, the terrible crime of slaying, with wicked hands, their Messiah-King rests, alas, on Israel.
Once more was He unrobed and robed. The purple robe was torn from His Wounded Body, the crown of thorns from His Bleeding Brow. Arrayed again in His own, now blood-stained, garments, He was led forth to execution. Only about two hours and a half had passed [c St. Mark xv. 95.] since the time that He had first stood before Pilate (about half-past six), [d St. John xix. 25.] when the melancholy procession reached Golgotha (at nine o'clock A.M.). In Rome an interval, ordinarily of two days, intervened between a sentence and its execution; but the rule does not seem to have applied to the provinces, [1 The evidence is collected by Nebe, u. s. vol. ii. p. 166, 167.] if, indeed, in this case the formal rules of Roman procedure were at all observed.
The terrible preparations were soon made: the hammer, the nails, the Cross, the very food for the soldiers who were to watch under each Cross. [2 Keim seems to imagine that, not indeed the whole 'cohort,' but a manipulus of about 120, or a centuria of about 60 men, accompanied the procession. But of this there is not evidence, and all indications lead to a contrary inference.] Four soldiers would be detailed for each Cross, the whole being under the command of a centurion. As always, the Cross was borne to the execution by Him Who was to suffer on it, perhaps His Arms bound to it with cords. But there is happily no evidence, rather, every indication to the contrary, that, according to ancient custom, the neck of the Sufferer was fastened within the patibulum, two horizontal pieces of wood, fastened at the end, to which the hands were bound. Ordinarily, the procession was headed by the centurion, [1 Tradition calls him Longinus.] or rather, preceded by one who proclaimed the nature of the crime, [2 This was the Jewish practice also (Sanh. vi. 2). At the same time it must be remembered, that this was chiefly to elicit testimony in favour of the criminal, when the execution would be immediately arrested; and also that, as the Sanhedrin had, for centuries before the redaction of the Mishnah, been deprived of the power of life and death, such descriptions read very like ideal arrangements. But the practice seems also to have been Roman ('per praeconem pronunciati').] and carried a white, wooden board, on which it was written. Commonly, also, it took the longest road to the place of execution, and through the most crowded streets, so as to attract most public attention. But we would suggest, that alike this long circuit and the proclamation of the herald were, in the present instance, dispensed with. They are not hinted at in the text, and seem incongruous to the festive season, and the other circumstances of the history.
Discarding all later legendary embellishments, [3 Such as concerning Veronica and the bearing of the Virgin-Mother (Acta Pilati, vii. x.; Mors Pilati [Tischendorf] 433).] as only disturbing, we shall try to realise the scene as described in the Gospels. Under the leadership of the centurion, whether or not attended by one who bore the board with the inscription, or only surrounded by the four soldiers, of whom one might carry this tablet, Jesus came forth bearing His Cross. He was followed by two malefactors, 'robbers' probably of the class then so numerous, that covered its crimes by pretensions of political motives. These two, also, would bear each his cross, and probably be attended each by four soldiers. Crucifixion was not a Jewish mode of punishment, although the Maccabee King Jannaeus had so far forgotten the claims of both humanity and religion as on one occasion to crucify not less than 800 persons in Jerusalem itself. [a Jos. Ant. xiii. 14, 2; War i, 4, 6] But even Herod, with all cruelty, did not resort to this mode of
execution. Nor was it employed by the Romans till after the time of Caesar, when, with the fast increasing cruelty of punishments, it became fearfully common in the provinces. Especially does it seem to characterise the domination of Rome in Judaea under every Governor. During the last siege of Jerusalem hundreds of crosses daily arose, till there seemed not sufficient room nor wood for them, and the soldiery diversified their horrible amusement by new modes of crucifixion. So did the Jewish appeal to Rome for the Crucifixion of Israel's King come back in hundredfold echoes. But, better than such retribution, the Cross of the God-Man hath put an end to the punishment of the cross, and instead, made the Cross the symbol of humanity, civilisation, progress, peace, and love.
As mostly all abominations of the ancient world, whether in religion or life, crucifixion was of Phoenician origin, although Rome adopted, and improved on it. The modes of execution among the Jews were: strangulation, beheading, burning, and stoning. In all ordinary circumstances the Rabbis were most reluctant to pronounce sentence of death. This appears even from the injunction that the Judges were to fast on the day of such a sentence. [a With application of Lev. xix. 26, Sanh. 63 a] Indeed, two of the leading Rabbis record it, that no such sentence would ever have been pronounced in a Sanhedrin of which they had been members. The indignity of hanging, and this only after the criminal had been otherwise executed, was reserved for the crimes of idolatry and blasphemy. [b Sanh. vi. 4] The place where criminals were stoned (Beth haSeqilah) was on an elevation about eleven feet high, from whence the criminal was thrown down by the first witness. If he had not died by the fall, the second witness would throw a large stone on his heart as he lay. It not yet lifeless, the whole people would stone him. [1 This explains how 'thewitnesses' at the stoning of St. Stephen laid down their garments at the feet of Paul.] At a distance of six feet from the place of execution the criminal was undressed, only the covering absolutely necessary for decency being left. [c Sanh. vi.3, 4] [2 This opinion, however, was not shared by the majority of Rabbis. But, as already stated, all those notices are rather ideal than real.] In the case of Jesus we have reason to think that, while the mode of punishment to which He was subjected was un-Jewish, every concession would be made to Jewish custom, and hence we thankfully believe that on the Cross He was spared the indignity of exposure. Such would have been truly un-Jewish. [3 According to the Rabbis, when we read in Scripture generally of the punishment of death, this refers to the lighest, or strangulation (Sanh. 52 b). Another mode of execution reads like something between immuring alive and starvation (Sanh. 81 b), something like the manner in which in the Middle Ages people were starved to death.]
Three kinds of Cross were in use: the so-called St. Andrew's Cross (x, the Crux decussata), the Cross in the form of a T (Crux Commissa), and the ordinary Latin Cross (+, Crux immissa). We believe that Jesus bore the last of these. This would also most readily admit of affixing the board with the threefold inscription, which we know His Cross bore. Besides, the universal testimony of those who lived nearest the time (Justin Martyr, Irenoeus, and others), and who, alas! had only too much occasion to learn what crucifixion meant, is in favour of this view. This Cross, as St. John expressly states, Jesus Himself bore at the outset. And so the procession moved on towards Golgotha. Not only the location, but even the name of that which appeals so strongly to every Christian heart, is matter of controversy. The name cannot have been derived from the skulls which lay about, since such exposure would have been unlawful, and hence must have been due to the skull-like shape and appearance of the place. Accordingly, the name is
commonly explained as the Greek form of the Aramaean Gulgalta, or the Hebrew Gulgoleth, which means a skull.
Such a description would fully correspond, not only to the requirements of the narrative, but to the appearance of the place which, so far as we can judge, represents Golgotha. we cannot here explain the various reasons for which the traditional site must be abandoned. Certain it is, that Golgotha was 'outside the gate,' [a Heb. xiii 12] and 'near the City.' [b St. John xix. 20] In all likelihood it was the usual place of execution. Lastly, we know that it was situated near gardens, where there were tombs, and close to the highway. The three last conditions point to the north of Jerusalem. It must be remembered that the third wall, which afterwards surrounded Jerusalem, was not built till several years after the Crucifixion. The new suburb of Bezetha extended at that time outside the second wall. Here the great highway passed northwards; close by, were villas and gardens; and here also rockhewn sepulchres have been discovered, which date from that period. But this is not all. The present Damascus Gate in the north of the city seems, in most ancient tradition, to have borne the name of St. Stephen's Gate, because the Proto-Martyr was believed to have passed through it to his stoning. Close by, then, must have been the place of execution. And at least one Jewish tradition fixes upon this very spot, close by what is known as the Grotto of Jeremiah, as the ancient 'place of stoning (Beth haSeqilah). And the description of the locality answers all requirements. It is a weird, dreary place, two or three minutes aside from the high road, with a high, rounded, skull-like rocky plateau, and a sudden depression or hollow beneath, as if the jaws of the skull had opened. Whether or not the 'tomb of the Herodian period in the rocky knoll to the west of Jeremiah's Grotto' was the most sacred spot upon earth, the 'Sepulchre in the Garden,' we dare not positively assert, though every probability attaches to it. [1 This view was first propounded by Thenius, and afterwards advocated by Furrer (Wander. d. Palast, pp. 70, &c.), but afterwards given up by him. As to the locality, comp. 'Quart. Statement of Pal.Explor. Fund,' Oct. 1881, pp.317-319; Conder's 'Handbook to the Bible,' pp. 355, 356, and for the description of Jeremiah's Grotto, Baedeker-Socin, u. s. p. 126. Of course, proof is in the nature of things impossible; yet to me this seems the most sacred and precious locality in Jerusalem.]
Thither, then, did that melancholy procession wind, between eight and nine o'clock on that Friday in Passover week. From the ancient Palace of Herod it descended, and probably passed through the gate in the first wall, and so into the busy quarter of Acra. As it proceeded, the numbers who followed from the Temple, from the dense business-quarter through which it moved, increased. Shops, bazaars, and markets were, indeed, closed on the holy feast-day. But quite a crowd of people would come out to line the streets and to follow; and, especially, women, leaving their festive preparations, raised loud laments, not in spiritual recognition of Christ's claims, but in pity and sympathy. [a St. Luke] [2 I cannot conceive any sufficient ground, why Keim should deny the historical character of this trait. Surely, on Keim's own principles, the circumstance, that only St. Luke records it, would not warrant this inference. On the other hand, it may be characterised as perhaps one of the most natural incidents in the narrative.] And who could have looked unmoved on such a spectacle, unless fanatical hatred had burnt out of his bosom all that was human? Since the Paschal Supper Jesus had not tasted either food or drink. After the deep emotion of that Feast, with all of holiest institution which it included; after the anticipated betrayal of Judas, and after the farewell to His disciples, He had passed into Gethsemane. There for hours, alone, since His nearest disciples could not watch with Him even one hour, the deep waters had rolled up to His soul. He had drunk of them, immersed, almost perished in them. There had he agonised in mortal
conflict, till the great drops of blood forced themselves on His Brow. There had He been delivered up, while they all had fled. To Annas, to Caiaphas, to Pilate, to Herod, and again to Pilate; from indignity to indignity, fron torture to torture, had He been hurried all that livelong night, all that morning. All throughout He had borne Himself with a Divine Majesty, which had awakened alike the deeper feelings of Pilate and the infuriated hatred of the Jews. But if His Divinity gave its true meaning to His Humanity, that Humanity gave its true meaning to His voluntary Sacrifice. So, far, then, from seeking to hide its manifestations, the Evangelists, not indeed needlessly but unhesitatingly, put them forward. [3 I can only account for it by the prejudices of party feeling, that one of such fine and sympathetic tact as Keim should so strangely have missed this, and imputed, especially to St. John, a desire of obscuring the element of weakness and forsakenness (u. s. p. 401).] Unrefreshed by food or sleep, after the terrible events of that night and morning, while His pallid Face bore the blood-marks from the crown of thorns, His mangled Body was unable to bear the weight of the Cross. No wonder the pity of the women of Jerusalem was stirred. But ours is not pity, it is worship at the sight. For, underlying His Human Weakness was the Divine Strength which led Him to this voluntary self-surrender and self-exinanition. It was the Divine strength of His pity and love which issued in His Human weakness.
Up to that last Gate which led from the 'Suburb' towards the place of execution did Jesus bear His Cross. Then, as we infer, His strength gave way under it. A man was coming from the opposite direction, one from that large colony of Jews which, as we know, had settled in Cyrene. [1 See vol. i. pp. 62, 63, 119.] He would be specially noticed; for, few would at that hour, on the festive day, come 'out of the country,' [2 Certainly not 'fromthe field.' The original, it is now generally admitted, does not mean this, and, as Wieseler aptly remarks (Beitr. p. 267) a person would scarcely return from labour in the field at nine o'clock in the morning (St. Mark xv. 25).] although such was not contrary to the Law. So much has been made of this, that it ought to be distinctly known that travelling, which was forbidden on Sabbaths, was not prohibited on feast-days. [3 This is shown in Tosaph. to Chag. 17 b, and admitted by all Rabbinic writers. (See Hoffmann, Abh. u.d. Pentat. Ges. p. 66.)] Besides, the place whence he came, perhaps his home, might have been within the ecclesiastical boundary of Jerusalem. At any rate, he seems to have been well known, at least afterwards, in the Church, and his sons Alexander and Rufus even better than he. [a St. Mark xv. 21.] Thus much only canwe say with certainty; to identify them with persons of the same name mentioned in other parts of the New Testament can only be matter of speculation. [4 Acts xiii. 1; Rom. xvi. 13.] But we can scarcely repress the thought that Simon the Cyrenian had not before that day been a disciple; had only learned to follow Christ, when, on that day, as he came in by the Gate, the soldiery laid hold on him, and against his will forced him to bear the Cross after Christ. Yet another indication of the need of such help comes to us from St. Mark, [b xv. 22.] who uses an expression [5 .] which conveys, though not necessarily that the Saviour had to be borne, yet that He had to be supported to Golgotha from the place where they met Simon.
Here, where, if the Saviour did not actually sink under His burden, it yet required to be transferred to the Cyrenian, while Himself henceforth needed bodily support, we place the next incident in this history. [a St. Luke xxiii. 27-31.] While the Cross was laid on the unwilling Simon, the women who had followed with the populace closed around the Sufferer, raising their lamentations. [1 Gerhard remarks: 'ut sive plangere est manuum (Bengel: pertinet ad gestus), ita est
oris et oculorum (Bengel: ad, fletum et vocem flebilem).] At His Entrance into Jerusalem, [b as St. Luke also records] Jesus had wept over the daughters of Jerusalem; as He left it for the last time, they wept over Him. But far different were the reasons for His tears from theirs of mere pity. And, if proof were required of His Divine strength, even in the utmost depth of His Human weakness, how, conquered, He was Conqueror, it would surely be found in the words in which He bade them turn their thoughts of pity where pity would be called for, even to themselves and their children in the near judgment upon Jerusalem. The time would come, when the Old Testament curse of barrenness [c Hos. ix. 14] would be coveted as a blessing. To show the fulfilment of this prophetic lament of Jesus, it is not necessary to recall the harrowing details recorded by Josephus, [d War vi. 3, 4.] when a frenzied mother roasted her own child, andin the mockery of desperateness reserved the half of the horrible meal for those murderers who daily broke in upon her to rob her of what scanty food had been left her; nor yet other of those incidents, too revolting for needless repetition, which the historian of the last siege of Jerusalem chronicles. But how often, these many centuries, must Israel's women have felt that terrible longing for childlessness, and how often must the prayer of despair for the quick death of falling mountains and burying hills rather than prolonged torture [e Hos. x. 8.] have risen to the lips of Israel's sufferers! And yet, even so, these words were also prophetic of a still more terrible future! [f Rev. vi. 10.] For, if Israel had put such flame to its 'green tree' how terribly would the Divine judgment burn among the dry wood of an apostate and rebellious people, that had so delivered up its Divine King, and pronounced sentence upon itself by pronouncing it upon Him!
And yet natural, and, in some respects, genuine, as were the tears of 'the daughters of Jerusalem,' mere sympathy with Christ almost involves guilt, since it implies a view of Him which is essentially the opposite of that which His claims demand. These tears were the emblem of that modern sentiment about the Christ which, in its effusiveness, offers insult rather than homage, and implies rejection rather than acknowledgment of Him. We shrink with horror from the assumption of a higher standpoint, implied in so much of the modern so-called criticism about the Christ. But even beyond this, all mere sentimentalism is here the outcome of unconsciousness of our real condition. When a sense of sin has been awakened in us, we shall mourn, not for what Christ has suffered, but for what He suffered for us. The effusiveness of mere sentiment is impertinence or folly: impertinence, if He was the Son of God; folly, if He was merely Man. And, even from quite another point of view, there is here a lesson to learn. It is the peculiarity of Romanism ever to present the Christ in His Human weakness. It is that of an extreme section on the opposite side, to view Him only in His Divinity. Be it ours ever to keep before us, and to worship as we remember it, that the Christ is the Saviour God-Man.
It was nine of the clock when the melancholy procession reached Golgotha, and the yet more melancholy preparations for the Crucifixion commenced. Avowedly, the punishment was invented to make death as painful and as lingering as the power of human endurance. First, the upright wood was planted in the ground. It was not high, and probably the Feet of the Sufferer were not above one or two feet from the ground. Thus could the communication described in the Gospels take place between Him and others; thus, also, might His Sacred Lips be moistened with the sponge attached to a short stalk of hyssop. Next, the transverse wood (antenna) was placed on the ground, and the Sufferer laid on it, when His Arms were extended, drawn up, and bound to it. Then (this not in Egypt, but in Carthage and in Rome) a strong, sharp nail was driven, first into the Right, then into the Left Hand (the clavi trabales). Next, the Sufferer was drawn up by means of
ropes, perhaps ladders; [1 But Nebe denies the use of ladders, and, in general, tries to prove by numerous quotations that the whole Cross was first erected, and then the Sufferer lifted up to it, and, only after that, the nails fastened into His Arms and Feet. Strange though it may seem, the question cannot be absolutely decided.] the transverse either bound or nailed to the upright, and a rest or support for the Body (the cornu or sedile) fastened on it. Lastly, the Feet were extended, and either one nail hammered into each, or a larger piece of iron through the two. We have already expressed our belief that the indignity of exposure was not offered at such a Jewish execution. And so might the crucified hang for hours, even days, in the unutterable anguish of suffering, till consciousness at last failed.
It was a merciful Jewish practice to give to those led to execution a draguth of strong wine mixed with myrrh so as to deaden consciousness. [a MassSem. ii. 9; Bemid. R. 10.] This charitable office was performed at the cost of, if not by, an association of women in Jerusalem. [b Sanh. 43 a.] That draught was offered to Jesus when He reached Golgatha. [1 The two alleged discrepancies, between St. Matthew and St. Mark, though, even if they did exist, scarcely worth mention, may be thus explained: 1. If St. Matthew wrote 'vinegar' (although the best MSS. read 'wine'), he, no doubt, so translated literally the word Chomets ( ) which, though literally, 'vinegar,' refers to an inferior kind of wine which was often mixed (comp. Pes. 42b). 2. If our Greek text of St. Matthew speaks of 'wormwood' (as in the LXX.), not 'gall', and St. Mark of myrrh, we must remember, that both may have been regarded as stupefying, perhaps both used, and that possibly the mistake may have arisen from the similarity of words and their writing, Lebhonah, 'myrrh,' Laanah, 'wormwood', when may have passed into, the into.] But having tasted it, and ascertained its character and object, He would not drink it. It was like His former refusal of the pity of the 'daughters of Jerusalem.' No man could take His Life from Him; He had power to lay it down, and to take it up again. Nor would He here yield to the ordinary weakness of our human nature; nor suffer and die as if it had been a necessity, not a voluntary self-surrender. He would meet Death, even in his sternest and fiercest mood, and conquer by submitting to the full. A lesson this also, though one difficult, to the Christian sufferer.
And so was He nailed to His Cross, which was placed between, probably somewhat higher than, those of the two malefactors crucified with Him. [2 Sepp, vol. vi. p. 336, recalls the execution of Savonarola between Fra Silvestro and Fra Domenico, and the taunt of his enemies: 'Now, brother!'] One thing only still remained: to affix to His Cross the so-called 'title' (titulus), on which was inscribed the charge on which He had been condemned. As already stated, it was customary to carry this board before the prisoner, and there is no reason ffor supposing any exception in this respect. Indeed, it seems implied in the circumstance, that the 'title' had evidently been drawn up under the direction of Pilate. It was, as might have been expected, and yet most significantly [3 Professor Westcott beautifully remarks: These three languages gathered up the result of the religious, the social, the intellectual preparation for Christ, and in each witness was given to His office.], trilingual: in Latin, Greek, and Aramaean. We imagine, that it was written in that order, [4 See next page, note 1.] and that the words were those recorded by the Evangelists (excepting St. Luke, [5 The better reading there is, o.] who seems to give a modification of the orginal, or Aramaean, text). The inscription given by St. Matthew exactly corresponds with that which Eusebius [c H.E. v. 1.] records as the Latin titulus on the cross of one of the early martyrs. We therefore conclude, that it represents the Latin words. Again, it seems only natural, that the fullest, and to the Jews most offensive, description should have been in Aramaean, which all could
read. Very significantly this is given by St. John. It follows, that the inscription given by St. Mark must represent that in Greek. Although much less comprehensive, it had the same number of words, and precisely the same number of letters, as that in Aramaean, given by St. John. [1 Probably it would read Jeshu han-Notsri malka dihudaey, or else. Both have four words and, in all, twenty letters. The Latin inscription (St. Matthew) would be, Hic est Jesus Rex Judaeorum, five words and twenty-two letters. It will be seen how each would fill a line of about the same length. The notice of the three languages in St. Luke is spurious. We retain the textus receptus of St. John xix. 19, as in any case it seems most unlikely that Pilate would have placed the Latin in the middle and not at the top. The Aramaean would stand last.]
It seems probably, that the Sanhedrists had heard from some one, who had watched the procession on its way to Golgotha, of the inscription which Pilate had written on the 'titulus', partly to avenge himself on, and partly to deride, the Jews. It is not likely that they would have asked Pilate to take it down after it had been affixed to the Cross; and it seems scarcely credible, that they would have waited outside the Praetorium till the melancholy procession commenced its march. We suppose that, after the condemnation of Jesus, the Sanhedrists had gone from the Praetorium into the Temple, to take part in its services. When informed of the offensive tablet, they hastened once more to the Praetorium, to induce Pilate not to allow it to be put up. This explains the inversion in the order of the account in the Gospel of St. John, [a St. John xix. 21. 22.] or rather, its location in that narrative in immediate connection with the notice, that the Sanhedrists were afraid the Jews who passed by might be influenced by the inscription. We imagine, that the Sanhedrists had originally no intention of doing anything so un-Jewish as not only to gaze at the sufferings of the Crucified, but to even deride Him in His Agony, that, in fact, they had not intended going to Golgotha at all. But when they found that Pilate would not yield to their remonstrances, some of them hastened to the place of Crucifixion, and, mingling with the crowd, sought to incite their jeers, so as to prevent any deeper impression [2 Comp. here the account of St. Matt. (xxvii. 39-43) and of the other Synoptists.] which the significant words of the inscription might have produced. [3 Thus, thenotice in St. John xix. 21, 22, would be parenthetic, chronologically belonging to an earlier part, and inserted here for the sake of historical connection.]
Before nailing Him to the Cross, the soldiers parted among them the poor worldly inheritance of His raiment. [4 It is generally stated, that this was the common Roman custom. But of this there is no evidence, and in later times it was expressly forbidden (Ulpianus, Digest. xiviii. 20, 6). I cannot see how Keim, and, after him, Nebe, should infer from this as certain, that the law had formerly been the opposite.] On this point there are slight seeming differences [1 Strangely, I confess, to my thinking, they seem to have been a source of anxiety and distress to St. Augustine, that he might find their true conciliation.] between the notices of the Synoptists and the more detailed account of the Fourth Gospel. Such differences, if real, would afford only fresh evidence of the general trustworthiness of the narrative. For, we bear in mind that, of all the disciples, only St. John witnessed the last scenes, and that therefore the other accounts of it circulating in the early Church must have been derived, so to speak, from second sources. This explains, why perhaps the largest number of seeming discrepancies in the Gospels occurs in the narrative of the closing hours in the Life of Christ, and how, contrary to what otherwise we might have expected, the most detailed as well as precise account of them comes to us from St. John. In the present instance these slight seeming differences may be explained in the following manner. There was, as St. John states, first a division into four parts, one to each of the soldiers, of such garments of the Lord as
were of nearly the same value. The head-gear, the outer cloak-like garment, the girdle, and the sandals, would differ little in cost. But the question, which of them was to belong to each of the soldiers, would naturally be decided, as the Synoptists inform us, by lot.
But, besides these four articles of dress, there was the seamless woven inner garment, [2 It is deeply significant that the dress of the priests was not sewed but woven (Zehbach. 88 a), and especially so that of the High-Priest (Yoma 72 b). According to tradition, during the seven days of consecration, Moses ministered in a seamless white dress, woven throughout. (Taan. 11 b.)] by far the most valuable of all, and for which, as it could not be partitioned without being destroyed, they would specially cast lots [3 It is impossible to determine in what manner this was done. The various modes of casting the lot are described by Adam, Roman Antiq. pp. 397-399. Possibly, however, it was much more simple and rough than any of these.] (as St. John reports). Nothing in this world can be accidental, since God is not far from any of us. But in the History of the Christ the Divine purpose, which forms the subject of all prophecy, must have been constantly realised; nay, this must have forced itself on the mind of the observer, and the more irresistibly when, as in the present instance, the outward circumstances were in such sharp contrast to the higher reality. To St. John, the loving and loved disciple, greater contrast could scarcely exist than between this rough partition by lot among the soldiery, and the character and claims of Him Whose garments they were thus apportioning, as if He had been a helpless Victim in their hands. Only one explanation could here suggest itself: that there was a special Divine meaning in the permission of such an event, that it was in fulfilment of ancient prophecy. As he gazed on the terrible scene, the words of the Psalm [a Ps. xxii. 18.] [1 Strauss calls Ps. xxii. 'the programme of the Passion of Christ.' We may accept the description, though not in his sense.] which portrayed the desertion, the sufferings, and the contempt even unto death of the Servant of the Lord, stood out in the red light of the Sun setting in Blood. They flashed upon his mind, for the first time he understood them; [2 The Scripture quotation in the t. r. of St. Matthew, and, in all probability, that also in St. Mark, is spurious.] and the flames which played around the Sufferer were seen to be the sacrificial fire that consumed the Sacrifice which He offered. That this quotation is made in the Fourth Gospel alone, proves that its writer was an eyewitness; that it was made in the Fourth Gospel at all, that he was a Jew, deeply imbued with Jewish modes of religious thinking. And the evidence of both is the stronger, as we recall the comparative rareness, and the peculiarly Judaic character of the Old Testament quotations in the Fourth Gospel. [3 Altogether there are fifteen such quotations in the Fourth Gospel. Of these at most only two (St. John vi. 31 and vii. 38) could be described as Alexandrian in character, the rest are truly Judaic.]
It was when they thus nailed Him to the Cross, and parted His raiment, that He spake the first of the so-called 'Seven Words': 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.' [4 The genuineness of these words has been called in question. But alike external and internal evidence demands their retention.] Even the reference in this prayer to 'what they do' (not in the past, nor future) points to the soldiers as the primary, though certainly not the sole object of the Saviour's prayer. [b Comp. Acts iii. 17 1 Cor. ii. 8.] [5 It would be presumptuous to seek to determine how far that prayer extended. Generally, I agree with Nebe, to all (Gentiles and Jews) who, in their participation in the sufferings inflicted on Jesus, acted in ignorance.] But higher thoughts also come to us. In the moment of the deepest abasement of Christ's Human Nature, the Divine bursts forth most brightly. It is, as if the Saviour would discard all that is merely human in His Sufferings, just as before He had discarded the Cup of stupefying wine. These soldiers were but the unconscious
instruments: the form was nothing; the contest was between the Kingdom of God and that of darkness, between the Christ and Satan, and these sufferings were but the necessary path of obedience, and to victory and glory. When He is most human (in the moment of His being nailed to the Cross), then is He most Divine, in the utter discarding of the human elements of human instrumentality and of human suffering. Then also in the utter self-forgetfulness of the God-Man, which is one of the aspects of the Incarnation, does He only remember Divine mercy, and pray for them who crucify Him; and thus also does the Conquered truly conquer His conquerors by asking for them what their deed had forfeited. And lastly, in this, that alike the first and the last of His Utterances begin with 'Father,' does He show by the unbrokenness of His faith and fellowship the real spiritual victory which He has won. And He has won it, not only for the martyrs, who have learned from Him to pray as He did, but for everyone who, in the midst of all that seems most opposed to it, can rise, beyond mere forgetfulness of what is around, to realising faith and fellowship with God as 'the Father,', who through the dark curtain of cloud can discern the bright sky, and can feel the unshaken confidence, if not the unbroken joy, of absolute trust.
This was His first Utterance on the Cross, as regarded them; as regarded Himself; and as regarded God. So, surely, suffered not Man. Has this prayer of Christ been answered? We dare not doubt it; nay, we perceive it in some measure in those drops of blessing which have fallen upon heathen men, and have left to Israel also, even in its ignorance, a remnant according to the election of grace. [1 In reference to this St. Augustine writes: 'Sanguinem Christi, quem saevientes fuderunt, credentes biberunt.' The question why Christ did not Himself forgive, but appeal for it to the Father, is best answered by the consideration, that it was really a crimen laesae majestatis against the Father, and that the vindication of the Son lay with God the Father.]
And now began the real agonies of the Cross, physical, mental, and spiritual. It was the weary, unrelieved waiting, as thickening darkness gradually gathered around. Before sitting down to their melancholy watch over the Crucified, [a St. Matthew.] the soldiers would refreshthemselves, after their exertion in nailing Jesus to the Cross, lifting it up, and fixing it, by draughts of the cheap wine of the country. As they quaffed it, they drank to Him in their coarse brutality, and mockingly came to Him, asking Him to pledge them in response. Their jests were, indeed, chiefly directed not against Jesus personally, but in His Representative capacity, and so against the hated, despised Jews, whose King they now derisively challenged to save Himself. [b St. Luke.] Yet even so, it seems to us of deepest significance, thatHe was so treated and derided in His Representative Capacity and as the King of the Jews. It is the undesigned testimony of history, alike as regarded the character of Jesus and the future of Israel. But what from almost any point of view we find so difficult to understand is, the unutterable abasement of the Leaders of Israel, their moral suicide as regarded Israel's hope and spiritual existence. There, on that Cross, hung He, Who at least embodied that grand hope of the nation; Who, even on their own showing, suffered to the extreme for that idea, and yet renounced it not, but clung fast to it in unshaken confidence; One, to Whose Life or even Teaching no objection could be offered, save that of this grand idea. And yet, when it came to them in the ribald mockery of this heathen soldiery, it evoked no other or higher thoughts in them; and they had the indescribable baseness of joining in the jeer at Israel's great hope, and of leading the popular chorus in it!
For, we cannot doubt, that, perhaps also by way of turning aside the point of the jeer from Israel, they took it up, and tried to direct it against Jesus; and that they led the ignorant mob in the
piteous attempts at derision. And did none of those who so reviled Him in all the chief aspects of His Work feel, that, as Judas had sold the Master for nought and committed suicide, so they were doing in regard to their Messianic hope? For, their jeers cast contempt on the four great facts in the Life and Work of Jesus, which were also the underlying ideas of the Messianic Kingdom: the new relationship to Israel's religion and the Temple ('Thou that destroyest the Temple, and buildest it in three days'); the new relationship to the Father through the Messiah, the Son of God ('if Thou be the Son of God'); the new all-sufficient help brought to body and soul in salvation ('He saved others'); and, finally, the new relationship to Israel in the fulfilment and perfecting of its Mission through its King ('if He be the King of Israel'). On all these, the taunting challenge of the Sanhedrists, to come down from the Cross, and save Himself, if he would claim the allegiance of their faith, cast what St. Matthew and St. Mark characterise as the 'blaspheming' [1 The two Evangelists designate by this very word the bearing of the passersby, rendered in the A.V. 'reviled' and 'railed.' of doubt. We compare with theirs the account of St. Luke and St. John. That of St. Luke reads like the report of what had passed, given by one who throughout had been quite close by, perhaps taken part in the Crucifixion [2 The peculiarities in itare (besides the titulus): what passed on the procession to Golgotha (St. Luke xxiii. 27-31); the prayer, when affixed to the Cross (ver. 34 a); the bearing of the soldiers (vv. 36, 37); the conversion of the penitent theif; and the last words on the Cross (ver. 46).] one might almost venture to suggest, that it had been furnished by the Centurion. [3 Thereis no evidence, that the Centurion was still present when the soldier 'came' to pierce the Saviour's side (St. John xix. 31-37). The narrative of St. John reads markedly like that of an eyewitness, and he a Judaen. [1 So from the peculiar details and O.T. quotations.] And as we compare both the general Judaen cast and Old Testament quotations in this with the other parts of the Fourth Gospel, we feel as if (as so often), under the influence of the strongest emotions, the later development and peculiar thinking of so many years afterwards had for the time been effaced from the mind of St. John, or rather given place to the Jewish modes of conception and speech, familiar to him in earlier days. Lastly, the account of St. Matthew seems as if written from the priestly point of view, as if it had been furnished by one of the Priests or Sanhedristparty, present at the time.
Yet other inferences come to us. First, there is a remarkable relationship between what St. Luke quotes as spoken by the soldiers: 'If Thou art the King of the Jews, save Thyself,' and the report of the words in St. Matthew: [a St. Matt. xxvii. 42] He saved others, Himself He cannot save. He [2 The word 'if' (if He) in our A.V. is spurious.] is the King of Israel! Let Him now come down from the Cross, and we will believe on Him!' These are the words of the Sanhedrists, and they seem to respond to those of the soldiers, as reported by St. Luke, and to carry them further. The 'if' of the soldiers: 'If Thou art the King of the Jews,' now becomes a direct blasphemous challenge. As we think of it, they seem to re-echo, and now with the laughter of hellish triumph, the former Jewish challenge for an outward, infallible sign to demonstrate His Messiahship. But they also take up, and re-echo, what Satan had set before Jesus in the Temptation of the wilderness. At the begining of His Work, the Tempter had suggested that the Christ should achieve absolute victory by an act of presumptuous self-assertion, utterly opposed to the spirit of the Christ, but which Satan represented as an act of trust in God, such as He would assuredly own. And now, at the close of His Messianic Work, the Tempter suggested, in the challenge of the Sanhedrists, that Jesus had suffered absolute defeat, and that God had publicly disowned the trust which the Christ had put in Him. 'He trusteth in God: let Him deliver Him now, if He will have Him.' [3 This is the literal rendering. The 'will have Him' has pleasure in Him, like the German: 'Wenn Er Ihn will.'] Here, as in the Temptation of the Wilderness, the words misapplied were those of Holy Scripture,
in the present instance those of Ps. xxii. 8. And the quotation, as made by the Sanhedrists, is the more remarkable, that, contrary to what is generally asserted by writers, this Psalm [b Ps. xxii.] was Messianically applied by the ancient Synagogue. [1 See Appendix IX.] More especially was this verse, [a Ps. xxii. 7] which precedes the mocking quotation of the Sanhedrists, expressly applied to the sufferings and the derision which Messiah was to undergo from His enemies: 'All they that see Me laugh Me to scorn: they shoot out the lip, they shake the head.' [b Yalkut on Is. lx. vol. ii. p. 56 d, lines 12 &c, from bottom] [2 Meyer actually commits himself to the statement, that Ps. xxii. was not Messianically applied by the Jews. Other writers follow his lead. The objection, that the Sanhedrists could not have quoted this verse, as it would have branded them as the wicked persons described in the Psalm, has no force when we remember the loose way in which the Jews were in the habit of quoting the Old Testament.]
The derision of the Sanhedrists under the Cross was, as previously stated, not entirely spontaneous, but had a special motive. The place of Crucifixion was close to the great road which led from the North to Jerusalem. On that Feast-day, when, as there was no law to limit, as on the weekly day of rest, locomotion to a 'Sabbath day's journey,' many would pass in and out of the City, and the crowd would naturally be arrested by the spectacle of the three Crosses. Equally naturally would they have been impressed by the titulus over the Cross of Christ. The words, describing the Sufferer as 'the King of the Jews,' might, when taken in connection with what was known of Jesus, have raised most dangerous questions. And this the presence of the Sanhedrists was intended to prevent, by turning the popular mind in a totally different direction. It was just such a taunt and argumentation as would appeal to that coarse realism of the common people, which is too often misnamed 'common sense.' St. Luke significantly ascribes the derision of Jesus only to the Rulers, [3 The words, 'with them,' in St. Luke xxiii. 35, are spurious.] and we repeat, that that of the passers by, recorded by St. Matthew and St. Mark, was excited by them. Thus here also the main guilt rested on the leaders of the people. [4 St. Mark introduces the mocking speeches (xv. 29) by the particle ova ('Ah') which occurs only here in the N.T. It is evidently the Latin 'Vah,' an exclamation of ironical admiration. (See Bengel and Nebe, ad loc.) The words literally were: 'Ha! the downbreaker of the sanctuary and upbuilding it in three days, save Thyself.' Except the introductory particle and the order of the words, the words are the same in St. Matthew. The is used in the sense of a substantive (comp. Winer, Gram. p. 122, and especially p. 316).]
One other trait comes to us from St. Luke, confirming our impression that his account was derived from one who had stood quite close to the Cross, probably taken official part in the Crucifixion. St. Matthew and St. Mark merely remark in general, that the derision of the Sanhedrists and people was joined in by the thieves on the Cross. [5 The language of St. Matthew and St. Mark is quite general, and refers to 'the thieves;' that of St. Luke is precise and detailed. But I cannot agree with those who, for the sake of 'harmony,' represent the penitent thief as joining in his comrade's blasphemy before turning to Christ. I do not deny, that such a sudden change might have taken place; but there is no evidence for it in the text, and the supposition of the penitent thief first blaspheming gives rise to many incongruities, and does not seem to fit into the text.] A trait this, which we feel to be not only psychologically true, but the more likely of occurrence, that any sympathy or possible alleviation of their sufferings might best be secured by joining in the scorn of the leaders, and concentrating popular indignation upon Jesus. But St. Luke also records a vital difference between the two 'robbers' on the Cross. [1 Tradition names the impenitent thief Gestas, which Keim identifies with, silenced, hardened, although the derivation seems to me forced. The
penitent thief is called Dysmas, which I would propose to derive from in the sense of 'the setting,' viz, of the sun: he who turns to the setting sun. Sepp very fancifully regards the penitent thief as a Greek (Japhetisch), the impenitent as a negro.] The impenitent thief takes up the jeer of the Sanhedrists: 'Art Thou not the Christ? [2 So according to the right reading.] Save Thyself and us!' The words are the more significant, alike in their bearing on the majestic calm and pitying love of the Saviour on the Cross, and on the utterance of the 'penitent thief,' that, strange as it may sound, it seems to have been a terrible phenomenon, noted by historians, [3 See the quotations in Nebe, ii. 258.] that those on the cross were wont to utter insults and imprecations on the onlookers, goaded nature perhaps seeking relief in such outbursts. Not so when the heart was touched in true repentance.
If a more close study of the words of the 'penitent thief' may seem to diminish the fulness of meaning which the traditional view attaches to them, they gain all the more as we perceive their historic reality. His first words were of reproof to his comrade. In that terrible hour, amidst the tortures of a slow death, did not the fear of God creep over him, at least so far as to prevent his joining in the vile jeers of those who insulted the dying agonies of the Sufferer? [4 'Dost not thou even fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?' Condemnation here means that to which one is condemned: the sufferings of the cross; and the expostulation is: Suffering as thou art like Him and me, canst thou join in the jeers of the crowd? Dost thou not even fear God, should not fear of Him now creep over thy soul, or at least prevent thee from insulting the dying Sufferer? And this all the more, since the circumstances are as immediately afterwards described.] And this all the more, in the peculiar circumstances. They were all three sufferers; but they two justly, while He Whom he insulted had done nothing amiss. From this basis of fact, the penitent rapidly rose to the height of faith. This is not uncommon, when a mind is learning the lessons of truth in the school of grace. Only, it stands out here the more sharply, because of the dark background against which it is traced in such broad and brightly shining outlines. The hour of the deepest abasement of the Christ was, as all the moments of His greatest Humilation, to be marked by a manifestation of His Glory and Divine Character, as it were, by God's testimony to Him in history, if not by the Voice of God from heaven. And, as regarded the 'penitent' himself, we notice the progression in his soul. No one could have been ignorant, least of all those who were led forth with Him to crucifixion, that Jesus did not suffer for any crime, nor for any political movement, but because He professed to embody the great hope of Israel, and was rejected by its leaders. And, if any had been ignorant, the 'title' over the Cross and the bitter enmity of the Sanhedrists, which followed Him with jeers and jibes, where even ordinary humanity, and still more Jewish feeling, would have enjoined silence, if not pity, must have shown what had been the motives of 'the condemnation' of Jesus. But, once the mind was opened to perceive all these facts, the progress would be rapid. In hours of extremity a man may deceive himself and fatally mistake fear for the fear of God, and the remembrance of certain external knowledge for spiritual experience. But, if a man really learns in such seasons, the teaching of years may be compressed into moments, and the dying thief on the Cross might outdistance the knowledge gained by Apostles in their years of following Christ.
One thing stood out before the mind of the 'penitent thief,' who in that hour did fear God. Jesus had done nothing amiss. And this surrounded with a halo of moral glory the inscription on the Cross, long before its words acquired a new meaniag. But how did this Innocent One bear Himself in suffering? Right royally, not in an earthly sense, but in that in which alone He claimed the Kingdom. He had so spoken to the women who had lamented Him, as His faint form could no
longer bear the burden of the Cross; and He had so refused the draught that would have deadened consciousness and sensibility. Then, as they three were stretched on the transverse beam, and, in the first and sharpest agony of pain, the nails were driven with cruel stroke of hammer through the quivering flesh, and, in the nameless agony that followed the first moments of the Crufixion, only a prayer for those who in ignorance, were the instruments of His tortune, had passed His lips. And yet He was innocent, Who so cruelly suffered. All that followed must have only deepened the impression. With what calm of endurance and majesty of silence He had borne the insult and jeers of those who, even to the spiritual unelightened eye, must have seemed so infinitely far beneath Him! This man did feel the 'fear' of God, who now learned the new lesson in which the fear of God was truly the beginning of wisdom. And, once he gave place to the moral element, when under the fear of God he reproved his comrade, this new moral decision because to him, as so often, the beginning of spiritual life. Rapidly he now passed into the light, and onwards and upwards: 'Lord, remember me, when Thou comest in Thy Kingdom!'
The familiar words of our Authorised Version, 'When Thou comest into Thy Kingdom', convey the idea of what we might call a more spiritual meaning of the petition. But we can scarcely beleive, that at that moment it implied either that Christ was then going into His Kingdom, or that the 'patient thief' looked to Christ for admission into the Heavenly Kingdom. The words are true to the Jewish point of vision of the man. He recognised and owned Jesus as the Messiah, and he did so, by a wonderful forthgoing of faith, even in the utmost Humiliation of Christ. And this immediately passed beyond the Jewish standpoint, for he expected Jesus soon to come back in His Kingly might and power, when he asked to be remembered by Him in mercy. And here we have again to bear in mind that, during the Life of Christ upon earth, and, indeed, before the outpouring of the Holy Ghost, men always first learned to believe in the Person of the Christ, and then to know His teaching and His Mission in the forgiveness of sins. It was so in this case also. If the 'penitent thief' had learned to know the Christ, and to ask for gracious recognition in His coming Kingdom, the answering assurance of the Lord conveyed not only the comfort that his prayer was answered, but the teaching of spiritual things which he knew not yet, and so much needed to know. The 'patient' had spoken of the future, Christ spole of 'to-day'; the penitent had prayed about that Messianic Kingdom which wa0 to come, Christ assured him in regard to the state of the disembodied spirits, and conveyed to him the promise that he would be there in the abode of the blessed, 'Paradise', and that through means of Himself as the Messiah: 'Amen, I say unto thee, To-day with Me shalt thou be in the Paradise.' Thus did Christ give him that spiritual knowledge which he did not yet process, the teaching concerning the 'to-day,' the need of gracious admission into Paradise, and that with and through Himself, in other words, concerning the forgiveness of sins and the opening of the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers. This, as the first and foundation-creed of the soul, was the first and foundation-fact concerning the Messiah.
This was the Second Utterance from the Cross. The first had been of utter self-forgetfullness; the second of deepest, wisest, most gracious spiritual teaching. And, had He spoken none other than these, He would have been proved to be the Son of God. [1 Fully to understand it, we ought to realise what would be the Jewish ideas of the 'penitent thief,' and what his understanding of the words of Christ. Broadly, one would say, that as a Jew he would expect that his 'death would be expiation of his sins.' Thoughts of need of forgiveness through the Messiah would not therefore come to him. But the words of Christ must have supplied all this. Again when Christ spoke of 'Paradise,' His hearer would naturally understand that part of Hades in which the
spirits of the righteous dwelt till the Ressurection. On both these points there are so many passangers in Rabbinic writings tht it is needless to quote (see for ex. Westein, ad loc., and our remarks on the Parable of Lazarus and Dives). Indeed, the prayer: let my death be the expiation of my sins, is still in the Jewish office for the dying, and the underlying dogma is firmly rooted in Rabbnic belief. The words of our Lord, so far from encouraging this belief, would teach him that admission to Paradise was to be granted by Christ. It is scarcely necessary to add, that Christ's words in no way encouraged the realistic conceptions which Judaism attached to Paradise. In Biblical Hebrew the word is used for a choice garden: in Eccl. ii. 5; Cant. iv. 13; Nehem. ii. 8. But in the LXX. and the Apocr. the word is already used in our sense of Paradise. Lastly, nothing which our Lord had said to the 'panitent thief' about being 'to-day' with Him in Paradise, is in any way inconsistent with, rather confirms, the doctrine of the Descent into Hades.]
Nothing more would require to be said to the 'penitent' on the Cross. The events which followed, and the words which Jesus would still speak, would teach him more fully thatn could otherwise have been done. Some hours, probably two, had passed since Jesus had been nailed to the Cross. We wonder how it came that St. John, who tells us some of the incidents with such exceeding particularity, and relates all with the vivid realisation of a most deeply interested eyewitness, should have been silent as to others, especially as to those hours of derision, as well as to the conversion of the penitent thief. His silence seems to us to have been due to absence from the scene. We part company with him after his detailed account of the last scene before Pilate. [a St. John xix. 2-16] The final sentence pronounced, we suppose him to have hurried into the City, and to have acquainted such of the disciples as he might find, but especially those faithful women and the Vergin-Mother, with the terrible scenes that had passed since the previous evening. Thence he returned to Golgotha, just in time to witness the Crucifixion, which he again describes with peculiar fulness of details. [b vv. 17-24] When the Saviour was nailed to the Cross, St. John seems once more to have returned to the City, this time, to bring back with him those-women, in company of whom we now find him standing close to the Cross. A more delicate, tender, loving service could not have been rendered than this. Alone, of all the disciples, he is there, not afraid to be near Christ, in the Palace of the High-Priest, before Pilate, and now under the Cross. And alone he renders to Christ this tender service of bringing the women and Mary to the Cross, and to them the protection of his guidance and company. He loved Jesus best; and it was fitting that to his manliness and affection should be entrusted the unspeakable privilege of Christ's dangerous inheritance. [1 The first impressionleft is, of course, that the 'brothers' of Jesus were not yet, at least in the full sense, believers. But this does not by any means necessarily follow, since both the presence of John under the Cross, and even his outward circumstances, might point him out as the most fit custodian of the Virgin-Mother. At the same time it sems the more likely supposition, that the brothers of Jesus were converted by the appearance to James of the Risen One (1 Cor. xv. 7).] The narrative [a St. John xix. 25-27] leaves the impression that with the beloved disciple these four women were standing close to the Cross: the Mother of Jesus, the Sister of His Mother, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. [2 This view is now generally adopted.] A comparison with what is related by St. Matthew [b St. Matt. xxvii. 55] and St. Mark [c St. Mark xv. 40, 41] supplies further important particulars. We read there of only three women, the name of the Mother of our Lord being omitted. But hen it must be remembered that this refers to a later period in the history of the Crucifixion. It seems as if John had fulfilled to the letter the Lord's command: 'Behold thy mother,' and literally 'from tht very hour' taken her to his own home. If we are right in this supposition, then, in the absence of St. John, who led away the Virgin-Mother from that scene
of horror, the other three women would withdraw to a distance, where we find them at the end, not 'by the Cross,' as in St. John xix. 25, but 'beholding from afar,' and now joined by others also, who had loved and followed Christ.
We further notice that, the name of the Virgin-Mother being omitted, the other 'three are the same as mentioned by St. John; only, Mary of Clopas is now described as 'the mother of James and Jose,' [3 There is, of course, the difficulty that Judas (Lebbaeus) and Simon Zelotes are not here mentioned as her sons. But they may have been her stepheons, or there may have other reasons for the omission. 'Judas of James' could scarcely have been the son of James, and Simon is expressly mentioned by Hegesippus as the son of Clopas.] and Christ's Mother's Sister' as 'Solome' [d St. Mark] and 'the mother of Zebedee's children.' [e St. Matthew] Thus Salome, the wife of Zebedee and St.John's mother, was the sister of the Virgin, and the beloved disciple the cousin (on the mother's side) of Jesus, and the nephew of the Virgin. This also helps to explain why the care of the Mother had been entrusted to him. Nor was Mary the wife of Clopas unconnected with Jesus. What we have every reason to regard as a trustworthy account [f Hegesippus in Euseb. H.E. iii. 11 and iv. 22] describes Clopas as thebrother of Joseph, the husband of the Virgin. Thus, not only Salome as the sister of the Virgin, but Mary also as the wife of Clopas, would, in a certain sense, have been His aunt, and her sons His cousins. And so we notice among the twelve Apostles five cousins of the Lord: the two sons of Salome and Zebedee, and the three sons of Alphaeus or Clopas [1 Alphaeus and Clopas are the same name. The first occurs in the Babylon Talmud as Ilphai, or Ilpha [ ] as in R. haSh. 17 b, and often; the other in the Jerusalem Talmud as Chilphai [ ] , as for ex. in Jer. B. Kama 7 a.] and Mary: James, Judas surnamed Lebbaeus and Thaddaeus, and Simon surnamed Zelotes or Cananaean. [2 I regard the Simon Zelotes of the list of Apostles as the Simon son of Clopas, or Alphaeus, of Hegesippus, first, because of his position in the lists of the Apostles along with the two other sons of Alphaeus; secondly, because, as there were only two prominent Simons in the N.T. (the brother of the Lord, and Zelotes), and Hegesippus mentions him as the son of Clopas, it follows that the Simon son of Clopas was Simon Zelotes. Levi Matthew was, indeed, also a son of Alphaeus, but we regard this as another Clopas than the husband of Mary.]
We can now in some measure realise events. When St. John had seen the Saviour nailed to the Cross, he had gone to the City and brought with him for a last mournful farewell the Virgin, accompanied by those who, as most nearly connected with her, would naturally be with her: her own sister Salome, the sister-in-law of Joseph and wife (or more probably widow) of Clopas, and her who of all others had experienced most of His blessed power to save, Mary of Magdala. Once more we reverently mark His Divine calm of utter self-forgetfulness and His human thoughtfulness for others. As they stood under the Cross, He committed His Mother to the disciple whom He loved, and established a new human relationship between him and her who was nearest to Himself. [3 Incongruous though the interruption be, we cannot help noticing that the introduction of such a scene seems inconsistent with the whole theory of an Ephesian authorship of the Fourth Gospel. On the other hand, it displays evidence of the true human interest of an actor in the scene.] And calmly, earnestly, and immediately did that disciple undertake the sacred charge, and bring her, whose soul the sword had pierced, away from the scene of unutterable woe to the shelter of his home. [4 Nothing is really known of the later history of the Blessed Virgin.] And this temporary absence of John from the Cross may account for the want of all detail in his narrative till quite the closing scene. [a St. John xix. 28.]
Now at last all that concerned the earthward aspect of His Mission, so far as it had to be done on the Cross, was ended. He had prayed for those who had nailed Him to it, in ignorance of what they did; He had given the comfort of assurance to the penitent, who had owned His Glory in His Humiliation; and He had made the last provision of love in regard to those nearest to Him. So to speak, the relations of His Humanity, that which touched His Human Nature in any direction, had been fully met. He had done with the Human aspect of His Work and with earth. And, appropriately, Nature seemed now to take sad farewell of Him, and mourned its departing Lord, Who, by His Personal connection with it, had once more lifted it from the abasement of the Fall into the region of the Divine, making it the dwelling-place, the vehicle for the manifestation, and the obedient messenger of the Divine.
For three hours had the Saviour hung on the Cross. It was midday. And now the Sun was craped in darkness from the sixth to the ninth hour. No purpose can be served by attempting to trace the source of this darkness. It could not have been an eclipse, since it was the time of full moon; nor can we place reliance on the later reports on this subject of ecclesiastical writers. [1 I do not think the testimony of Phlegon, as quoted by Eusebius, is available (see the discussion in Wieseler's Synopse, p. 387, note 1). Still, if the astronomical calculations of Ideler and Wurm are correct, 'the eclipse' recorded by Phlegon [whether 'eclipse' in the scientific sense, or 'darkness,'] would have taken place in the very year of our Lord's death, A.D. 29, but, as they reckon, on November 24. I do not posses the special knowledge requisite to verify these calculations; but that it is described by Phlegon as an 'eclipse', which this could not have been, does not necessarily invalidate the argument, since he might have used the term inaccurately. It is in this sense that St. Luke (xxiii. 45) uses the verb, that is, if we adopt the amended reading. What Nebe writes on this subject (vol. ii. p. 301), and the illustrations of the popular use of the word from Pliny and Plutarch, deserve the most serious consideration. But, I repeat, I cannot attach weight in this argument to such testimonies, nor yet to the sayings of Origen, Tertullian, &c., nor to the Acta Pilati (the ecclesiastical testimonies are discussed by Nebe, u. s. p. 299).] It seems only in accordance with the Evangelic narrative to regard the occurrence of the event as supernatural, while the event itself might have been brought about by natural causes; and among these we must call special attention to the earthquake in which this darkness terminated. [a St. Matt. xxvii. 51.] For, it is a well-known phenomenon that such darkness not unfrequently precedes earthquakes. On the other hand, it must be freely admitted, that the language of the Evangelists seems to imply that this darkness extended, not only over the land of Israel, but over the inhabited earth. The expression must, of course, not be pressed to its full literality, but explained as meaning that it extended far beyond Judaea and to other lands. No reasonable objection can be raised from the circumstance, that neither the earthquake nor the preceding darkness are mentioned by any profane writer whose works have been preserved, since it would surely not be maintained that an historical record must have been preserved of every earthquake that occurred, and of every darkness that may have preceded it. [2 There are frequent notices in classical writers of eclipses preceding disastrous events or the death of great men, such as of Caesar (Nebe, u. s. p. 300). But these were, if correctly related, eclipses in the true sense, and, as such, natural events, having in no way a supernatural bearing, and hence in no sense analogous to this 'darkness' at the Crucifixion.] But the most unfair argument is that, which tries to establish the unhistorical character of this narrative by an appeal to what are described as Jewish sayings expressive of similar expectancy. [1 So Strauss (after Wetstein) and even Keim. Painful as controversy is in connection with the last
hours of Jesus, I would not have shrunk from contesting the positions of Keim, if I had not felt that every unprejudiced person must see, that most of them are mere assertions, without an attempt at anything like historical evidence.] It is quite true that in old Testament prophecy, whether figuratively or really, the darkening, though not only of the sun, but also of the moon and stars, is sometimes connected, not with the Coming of Messiah, still less with His Death, but with the final Judgement. [2 Strauss (ii. p. 556), and more fully Keim (iii. p. 438, Note 3), quote Joel ii. 10, 31; Amos viii. 9; Is. xiii. 10; 1. 3; Job ix. 7; Jer. xv. 9. Of these passages some have no bearing, however remote, on the subject, while the others refer not to the Messiah but to the final judgement.] But Jewish tradition never speaks of such an event in connection with Messiah, or even with the Messianic judgments, and the quotations from Rabbinic writings made by negative critics must be characterised as not only inapplicable but even unfair. [3 To be quite fair, I will refer to all the passages quoted in connection with the darkening of the sun as a token of mourning. The first (quoted by Wetstein) is from the Midrash on Lament. iii. 28 (ed. Warsh. p. 72 a). But the passage, evidently a highly figurative one, refers to the destruction of Jerusalem and the dispersion of Israel, and, besides the darkening of the sun, moon, and stars (not the sun only), refers to a realistic fulfilment of Nah. i. 3 and Lament. iii. 28 in God's walking in dust and keeping silence. The second quotation of Wetstein, that when a great Rabbi dies it is as portentous as if the sun went down at midday, has manifestly no bearing whatever on the matter in hand (though Strauss adduces it). The last and only quotation really worth mention is from Sukk. 29 a. In a somewhat lengthened statement there, the meaning of an obscuration of the sun or moon is discussed. I have here to remark (1) that these phenomena are regarded as 'signs' in the sense of betokening coming judgments, such as war, famine, &c., and that these are supposed to affect various nations according as the eclipse is towards the rising or setting of the sun. The passage therefore can have no possible connection with such a phenomenon as the death of Messiah. (2) This is further confirmed by the enumeration of certain sins for which heavenly luminaries are eclipsed. Some are not fit for mention, while others are such as false witness-bearing, the needless cutting down of fruit-trees, &c. (3) But the unfairness, as well as the inaptitude, of the quotation appears from this, that only the beginning of the passage is quoted (Strauss and Keim): 'At a time when the sun is obscured, it is an evil sign to all the world,' while what follows is omitted: 'When the sun is obscured, it is an evil sign to the nations of the world; when the moon is obscured, it is an evil sign to Israel, because Israel reckons according to the moon, the nations of the world according to the sun.' And yet Wunsche (Erlauter. pp. 355, 356) quotes both that which precedes and that which follows this passage, but leaves out this passage itself. (Comp. Mechilta, p. 3 b.]