NR 21
November 21
Matthew 27:26-30. The band of soldiers mock Christ.
Barabbas was released, and Jesus was delivered up to be crucified. We know nothing of the future history of Barabbas. We know not whether he ever believed in him, who was led to execution, when he himself was permitted to live. But there have been some as guilty as Barabbas, who have believed; and they have felt that if Jesus had not been crucified, they would never have been released from the everlasting prison-house of sin and death.
Before Jesus was crucified, he was scourged. It was the custom to treat criminals in this barbarous manner. The scourge was a sharp and torturing instrument, frequently composed of the nerves of oxen, and the bones of sheep. The poor sufferer was fastened to a post, with his hands tied behind him, while the executioners, with all their might, covered his whole body with their cruel strokes. Among the Jews there was a law forbidding more than forty strokes to be inflicted at one time; but among the Romans there was no such law. We know not how many strokes lacerated the sacred flesh of our Divine Lord. It was then that he meekly "gave his back to the smiters." (Is. 50:6.) It was then that the plowers plowed on his back, and made long their furrows. (Ps. 129:3.) But there was a healing virtue in those stripes. The blood that flowed from those wounds, heals the wounds of sin in the human heart. It is written, "With his stripes we are healed." It is indeed wonderful that stripes should heal. But those who are harassed by the remembrance of past sins, may find that the stripes of Jesus can restore peace to their souls. The innocent Lamb of God was wounded in our stead, and if we believe in him, we shall be healed.
No pity was awakened in the hearts of the Roman soldiers, by the sight of the Redeemer's sufferings. After the scourging was over, Jesus was taken back into the magnificent hall of Pilate, and was surrounded by the whole band of soldiers, in number at least six hundred. This was the third time that he had been publicly mocked. The servants of the high priest had derided his wisdom. Herod, with his men of war, had mocked his innocence, by clothing him in a white, or gorgeous robe; and now Pilate's soldiers scoffed at his royal dignity, by clothing him in a scarlet robe, and adorning him with a crown of thorns.
The soldiers themselves had platted this crown. They had taken some twigs of a plant that bore spikes, and, with the ingenuity of fiends, had contrived to give pain to their victim, while they indulged their own mirth. Some of the faithful followers of Jesus have thought of this crown while enduring the same kind of sufferings. When a crown, not made of thorns, but of paper, and painted with the figures of three devils, was placed on the head of the martyr, John Huss, he said, "I am glad to wear this crown of ignominy, for the sake of him who wore a crown of thorns." He felt that the Savior's torments were sharper than his own; he felt, also, that it was for his sake that the thorns pierced the Savior's brow. Yes! It was for us that Jesus wore a crown of thorns.
No evil thought had ever proceeded from his divine mind. It was to atone for our offences that the blood trickled down his sacred cheeks. He who suffered all these pangs, and bore all these insults, was God, the God who made us, who gives us breath, who upholds the worlds! What must sin be to require such an atonement! It must be infinitely evil. And what must Jesus be, to be willing to offer this atonement! He must be infinitely good. The day is coming, when he will appear adorned with many crowns, but not one of them composed of thorns. Then every knee shall bow to him, not in cruel mockery, but with deep awe, and call him Lord, to the glory of God the Father.