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Chapter 75
Before Annas and the Court of Caiaphas
OVER the brook Kedron, past gardens and olive groves, and through the hushed streets of
the sleeping city, they hurried Jesus. It was past midnight, and the cries of the hooting
mob that followed Him broke sharply upon the still air. The Saviour was bound and closely
guarded, and He moved painfully. But in eager haste His captors made their way with Him to
the palace of Annas, the ex-high priest.
Annas was the head of the officiating priestly family, and in deference to his age he was
recognized by the people as high priest. His counsel was sought and carried out as the
voice of God. He must first see Jesus a captive to priestly power. He must be present at
the examination of the prisoner, for fear that the less-experienced Caiaphas might fail of
securing the object for which they were working. His artifice, cunning, and subtlety must
be used on this occasion; for, at all events, Christ's condemnation must be secured.
Christ was to be tried formally before the Sanhedrin; but before Annas He was subjected to
a preliminary trial. Under the Roman rule the Sanhedrin could not execute the sentence of
death. They could only examine a prisoner, and pass judgment, to be ratified by the Roman
authorities. It was therefore necessary to bring against Christ charges
that would be regarded as criminal by the Romans. An accusation must also be found which
would condemn Him in the eyes of the Jews. Not a few among the priests and rulers had been
convicted by Christ's teaching, and only fear of excommunication prevented them from
confessing Him. The priests well remembered the question of Nicodemus, "Doth our law
judge any man, before it hear him, and know what he doeth?" John 7:51. This question
had for the time broken up the council, and thwarted their plans. Joseph of Arimathaea and
Nicodemus were not now to be summoned, but there were others who might dare to speak in
favor of justice. The trial must be so conducted as to unite the members of the Sanhedrin
against Christ. There were two charges which the priests desired to maintain. If Jesus
could be proved a blasphemer, He would be condemned by the Jews. If convicted of sedition,
it would secure His condemnation by the Romans. The second charge Annas tried first to
establish. He questioned Jesus concerning His disciples and His doctrines, hoping the
prisoner would say something that would give him material upon which to work. He thought
to draw out some statement to prove that He was seeking to establish a secret society,
with the purpose of setting up a new kingdom. Then the priests could deliver Him to the
Romans as a disturber of the peace and a creator of insurrection.
Christ read the priest's purpose as an open book. As if reading the inmost soul of His
questioner, He denied that there was between Him and His followers any secret bond of
union, or that He gathered them secretly and in the darkness to conceal His designs. He
had no secrets in regard to His purposes or doctrines. "I spake openly to the
world," He answered; "I ever taught in the synagogue, and in the temple, whither
the Jews always resort; and in secret have I said nothing."
The Saviour contrasted His own manner of work with the methods of His accusers. For months
they had hunted Him, striving to entrap Him and bring Him before a secret tribunal, where
they might obtain by perjury what it was impossible to gain by fair means. Now they were
carrying out their purpose. The midnight seizure by a mob, the mockery and abuse before He
was condemned, or even accused, was their manner of work, not His. Their action was in
violation of the law. Their own rules declared that every man should be treated as
innocent until proved guilty. By their own rules the priests stood condemned.
Turning upon His questioner, Jesus said, "Why askest thou Me?" Had not the
priests and rulers sent spies to watch His movements, and report His every word? Had not
these been present at every gathering
of the people, and carried to the priests information of all His sayings and doings?
"Ask them which heard Me, what I have said unto them," replied Jesus;
"behold, they know what I said."
Annas was silenced by the decision of the answer. Fearing that Christ would say something
regarding his course of action that he would prefer to keep covered up, he said nothing
more to Him at this time. One of his officers, filled with wrath as he saw Annas silenced,
struck Jesus on the face, saying, "Answerest Thou the high priest so?"
Christ calmly replied, "If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil: but if well,
why smitest thou Me?" He spoke no burning words of retaliation. His calm answer came
from a heart sinless, patient, and gentle, that would not be provoked.
Christ suffered keenly under abuse and insult. At the hands of the beings whom He had
created, and for whom He was making an infinite sacrifice, He received every indignity.
And He suffered in proportion to the perfection of His holiness and His hatred of sin. His
trial by men who acted as fiends was to Him a perpetual sacrifice. To be surrounded by
human beings under the control of Satan was revolting to Him. And He knew that in a
moment, by the flashing forth of His divine power, He could lay His cruel tormentors in
the dust. This made the trial the harder to bear.
The Jews were looking for a Messiah to be revealed in outward show. They expected Him, by
one flash of overmastering will, to change the current of men's thoughts, and force from
them an acknowledgment of His supremacy. Thus, they believed, He was to secure His own
exaltation, and gratify their ambitious hopes. Thus when Christ was treated with contempt,
there came to Him a strong temptation to manifest His divine character. By a word, by a
look, He could compel His persecutors to confess that He was Lord above kings and rulers,
priests and temple. But it was His difficult task to keep to the position He had chosen as
one with humanity.
The angels of heaven witnessed every movement made against their loved Commander. They
longed to deliver Christ. Under God the angels are all-powerful. On one occasion, in
obedience to the command of Christ, they slew of the Assyrian army in one night one
hundred and eighty-five thousand men. How easily could the angels, beholding the shameful
scene of the trial of Christ, have testified their indignation by consuming the
adversaries of God! But they were not commanded to do this. He who could have doomed His
enemies to death bore with
their cruelty. His love for His Father, and His pledge, made from the foundation of the
world, to become the Sin Bearer, led Him to endure uncomplainingly the coarse treatment of
those He came to save. It was a part of His mission to bear, in His humanity, all the
taunts and abuse that men could heap upon Him. The only hope of humanity was in this
submission of Christ to all that He could endure from the hands and hearts of men.
Christ had said nothing that could give His accusers an advantage; yet He was bound, to
signify that He was condemned. There must, however, be a pretense of justice. It was
necessary that there should be the form of a legal trial. This the authorities were
determined to hasten. They knew the regard in which Jesus was held by the people, and
feared that if the arrest were noised abroad, a rescue would be attempted. Again, if the
trial and execution were not brought about at once, there would be a week's delay on
account of the celebration of the Passover. This might defeat their plans. In securing the
condemnation of Jesus they depended largely upon the clamor of the mob, many of them the
rabble of Jerusalem. Should there be a week's delay, the excitement would abate, and a
reaction would be likely to set in. The better part of the people would be aroused in
Christ's favor; many would come forward with testimony in His vindication, bringing to
light the mighty works He had done. This would excite popular indignation against the
Sanhedrin. Their proceedings would be condemned, and Jesus would be set free, to receive
new homage from the multitudes. The priests and rulers therefore determined that before
their purpose could become known, Jesus should be delivered into the hands of the Romans.
But first of all, an accusation was to be found. They had gained nothing as yet. Annas
ordered Jesus to be taken to Caiaphas. Caiaphas belonged to the Sadducees, some of whom
were now the most desperate enemies of Jesus. He himself, though wanting in force of
character, was fully as severe, heartless, and unscrupulous as was Annas. He would leave
no means untried to destroy Jesus. It was now early morning, and very dark; by the light
of torches and lanterns the armed band with their prisoner proceeded to the high priest's
palace. Here, while the members of the Sanhedrin were coming together, Annas and Caiaphas
again questioned Jesus, but without success.
When the council had assembled in the judgment hall, Caiaphas took his seat as presiding
officer. On either side were the judges, and those specially interested in the trial. The
Roman soldiers were stationed on the platform below the throne. At the foot of the throne stood Jesus. Upon Him the gaze of
the whole multitude was fixed. The excitement was intense. Of all the throng He alone was
calm and serene. The very atmosphere surrounding Him seemed pervaded by a holy influence.
Caiaphas had regarded Jesus as his rival. The eagerness of the people to hear the Saviour,
and their apparent readiness to accept His teachings, had aroused the bitter jealousy of
the high priest. But as Caiaphas now looked upon the prisoner, he was struck with
admiration for His noble and dignified bearing. A conviction came over him that this Man
was akin to God. The next instant he scornfully banished the thought.
Immediately his voice was heard in sneering, haughty tones demanding that Jesus work one
of His mighty miracles before them. But his words fell upon the Saviour's ears as though
He heard them not. The people compared the excited and malignant deportment of Annas and
Caiaphas with the calm, majestic bearing of Jesus. Even in the minds of that hardened
multitude arose the question, Is this man of godlike presence to be condemned as a
criminal?
Caiaphas, perceiving the influence that was obtaining, hastened the trial. The enemies of
Jesus were in great perplexity. They were bent on securing His condemnation, but how to
accomplish this they knew not. The members of the council were divided between the
Pharisees and the Sadducees. There was bitter animosity and controversy between them;
certain disputed points they dared not approach for fear of a quarrel. With a few words
Jesus could have excited their prejudices against each other, and thus have averted their
wrath from Himself. Caiaphas knew this, and he wished to avoid stirring up a contention.
There were plenty of witnesses to prove that Christ had denounced the priests and scribes,
that He had called them hypocrites and murderers; but this testimony it was not expedient
to bring forward. The Sadducees in their sharp contentions with the Pharisees had used to
them similar language. And such testimony would have no weight with the Romans, who were
themselves disgusted with the pretensions of the Pharisees. There was abundant evidence
that Jesus had disregarded the traditions of the Jews, and had spoken irreverently of many
of their ordinances; but in regard to tradition the Pharisees and Sadducees were at
swords' points; and this evidence also would have no weight with the Romans. Christ's
enemies dared not accuse Him of Sabbathbreaking, lest an examination should reveal the
character of His work. If His miracles of healing were brought to light, the very object
of the priests would be defeated.
False witnesses had been bribed to accuse Jesus of inciting rebellion and seeking to
establish a separate government. But their testimony proved to be vague and contradictory.
Under examination they falsified their own statements.
Early in His ministry Christ had said, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will
raise it up." In the figurative language of prophecy, He had thus foretold His own
death and resurrection. "He spake of the temple of His body." John 2:19, 21.
These words the Jews had understood in a literal sense, as referring to the temple at
Jerusalem. Of all that Christ had said, the priests could find nothing to use against Him
save this. By misstating these words they hoped to gain an advantage. The Romans had
engaged in rebuilding and embellishing the temple, and they took great pride in it; any
contempt shown to it would be sure to excite their indignation. Here Romans and Jews,
Pharisees and Sadducees, could meet; for all held the temple in great veneration. On this
point two witnesses were found whose testimony was not so contradictory as that of the
others had been. One of them, who had been bribed to accuse Jesus, declared, "This
fellow said, I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days."
Thus Christ's words were misstated. If they had been reported exactly as He spoke them,
they would not have secured His condemnation even by the Sanhedrin. Had Jesus been a mere
man, as the Jews claimed, His declaration would only have indicated an unreasonable,
boastful spirit, but could not have been construed into blasphemy. Even as misrepresented
by the false witnesses, His words contained nothing which would be regarded by the Romans
as a crime worthy of death.
Patiently Jesus listened to the conflicting testimonies. No word did He utter in
self-defense. At last His accusers were entangled, confused, and maddened. The trial was
making no headway; it seemed that their plottings were to fail. Caiaphas was desperate.
One last resort remained; Christ must be forced to condemn Himself. The high priest
started from the judgment seat, his face contorted with passion, his voice and demeanor
plainly indicating that were it in his power he would strike down the prisoner before him.
"Answerest Thou nothing?" he exclaimed; "what is it which these witness
against Thee?"
Jesus held His peace. "He was oppressed, and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His
mouth: He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is
dumb, so He openeth not His mouth." Isaiah 53:7.
At last, Caiaphas, raising his right hand toward heaven, addressed Jesus in the form of a
solemn oath: "I adjure Thee by the living God, that Thou tell us whether Thou be the
Christ, the Son of God."
To this appeal Christ could not remain silent. There was a time to be silent, and a time
to speak. He had not spoken until directly questioned. He knew that to answer now would
make His death certain. But the appeal was made by the highest acknowledged authority of
the nation, and in the name of the Most High. Christ would not fail to show proper respect
for the law. More than this, His own relation to the Father was called in question. He
must plainly declare His character and mission.
Jesus had said to His disciples, "Whosoever therefore shall confess Me before men,
him will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven." Matt. 10:32. Now by His
own example He repeated the lesson.
Every ear was bent to listen, and every eye was fixed on His face as He answered,
"Thou hast said." A heavenly light seemed to illuminate His pale countenance as
He added, "Nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sitting
on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven."
For a moment the divinity of Christ flashed through His guise of humanity. The high priest
quailed before the penetrating eyes of the Saviour. That look seemed to read his hidden
thoughts, and burn into his heart. Never in afterlife did he forget that searching glance
of the persecuted Son of God.
"Hereafter," said Jesus, "shall ye see the Son of man sitting on the
right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven." In these words Christ
presented the reverse of the scene then taking place. He, the Lord of life and glory,
would be seated at God's right hand. He would be the judge of all the earth, and from His
decision there could be no appeal. Then every secret thing would be set in the light of
God's countenance, and judgment be passed upon every man according to his deeds.
The words of Christ startled the high priest. The thought that there was to be a
resurrection of the dead, when all would stand at the bar of God, to be rewarded according
to their works, was a thought of terror to Caiaphas. He did not wish to believe that in
future he would receive sentence according to his works. There rushed before his mind as a
panorama the scenes of the final judgment. For a moment he saw the fearful spectacle of
the graves giving up their dead, with the secrets he had hoped were forever hidden. For a
moment he felt as if standing before the eternal Judge, whose eye, which sees all things,
was reading his soul, bringing to light mysteries supposed to be hidden with the dead.
The scene passed from the priest's vision. Christ's words cut him, the Sadducee, to the
quick. Caiaphas had denied the doctrine of the resurrection, the judgment, and a future
life. Now he was maddened by satanic fury. Was this man, a prisoner before him, to assail
his most cherished theories? Rending his robe, that the people might see his pretended
horror, he demanded that without further preliminaries the prisoner be condemned for
blasphemy. "What further need have we of witnesses?" he said; "behold, now
ye have heard His blasphemy. What think ye?" And they all condemned Him.
Conviction mingled with passion led Caiaphas to do as he did. He was furious with himself
for believing Christ's words, and instead of rending his heart under a deep sense of
truth, and confessing that Jesus was the Messiah, he rent his priestly robes in determined
resistance. This act was deeply significant. Little did Caiaphas realize its meaning. In
this act, done to influence the judges and secure Christ's condemnation, the high priest
had condemned himself. By the law of God he was disqualified for the priesthood. He had
pronounced upon himself the death sentence.
A high priest was not to rend his garments. By the Levitical law, this was prohibited
under sentence of death. Under no circumstances, on no occasion, was the priest to rend
his robe. It was the custom among the Jews for the garments to be rent at the death of
friends, but this
custom the priests were not to observe. Express command had been given by Christ to Moses
concerning this. Lev. 10:6.
Everything worn by the priest was to be whole and without blemish. By those beautiful
official garments was represented the character of the great antitype, Jesus Christ.
Nothing but perfection, in dress and attitude, in word and spirit, could be acceptable to
God. He is holy, and His glory and perfection must be represented by the earthly service.
Nothing but perfection could properly represent the sacredness of the heavenly service.
Finite man might rend his own heart by showing a contrite and humble spirit. This God
would discern. But no rent must be made in the priestly robes, for this would mar the
representation of heavenly things. The high priest who dared to appear in holy office, and
engage in the service of the sanctuary, with a rent robe, was looked upon as having
severed himself from God. By rending his garment he cut himself off from being a
representative character. He was no longer accepted by God as an officiating priest. This
course of action, as exhibited by Caiaphas, showed human passion, human imperfection.
By rending his garments, Caiaphas made of no effect the law of God, to follow the
tradition of men. A man-made law provided that in case of blasphemy a priest might rend
his garments in horror at the sin, and be guiltless. Thus the law of God was made void by
the laws of men.
Each action of the high priest was watched with interest by the people; and Caiaphas
thought for effect to display his piety. But in this act, designed as an accusation
against Christ, he was reviling the One of whom God had said, "My name is in
Him." Ex. 23:21. He himself was committing blasphemy. Standing under the condemnation
of God, he pronounced sentence upon Christ as a blasphemer.
When Caiaphas rent his garment, his act was significant of the place that the Jewish
nation as a nation would thereafter occupy toward God. The once favored people of God were
separating themselves from Him, and were fast becoming a people disowned by Jehovah. When
Christ upon the cross cried out, "It is finished" (John 19:30), and the veil of
the temple was rent in twain, the Holy Watcher declared that the Jewish people had
rejected Him who was the antitype of all their types, the substance of all their shadows.
Israel was divorced from God. Well might Caiaphas then rend his official robes, which
signified that he claimed to be a representative of the great High Priest; for no longer
had they any meaning for him or for the people. Well might the high priest rend his robes
in horror for himself and for the nation.
The Sanhedrin had pronounced Jesus worthy of death; but it was contrary to the Jewish law
to try a prisoner by night. In legal condemnation nothing could be done except in the
light of day and before a full session of the council. Notwithstanding this, the Saviour
was now treated as a condemned criminal, and given up to be abused by the lowest and
vilest of humankind. The palace of the high priest surrounded an open court in which the
soldiers and the multitude had gathered. Through this court, Jesus was taken to the
guardroom, on every side meeting with mockery of His claim to be the Son of God. His own
words, "sitting on the right hand of power," and, "coming in the clouds of
heaven," were jeeringly repeated. While in the guardroom, awaiting His legal trial,
He was not protected. The ignorant rabble had seen the cruelty with which He was treated
before the council, and from this they took license to manifest all the satanic elements
of their nature. Christ's very nobility and godlike bearing goaded them to madness. His
meekness, His innocence, His majestic patience, filled them with hatred born of Satan.
Mercy and justice were trampled upon. Never was criminal treated in so inhuman a manner as
was the Son of God.
But a keener anguish rent the heart of Jesus; the blow that inflicted the deepest pain no
enemy's hand could have dealt. While He was undergoing the mockery of an examination
before Caiaphas, Christ had been denied by one of His own disciples.
After deserting their Master in the garden, two of the disciples had ventured to follow,
at a distance, the mob that had Jesus in charge. These disciples were Peter and John. The
priests recognized John as a well-known disciple of Jesus, and admitted him to the hall,
hoping that as he witnessed the humiliation of his Leader, he would scorn the idea of such
a one being the Son of God. John spoke in favor of Peter, and gained an entrance for him
also.
In the court a fire had been kindled; for it was the coldest hour of the night, being just
before the dawn. A company drew about the fire, and Peter presumptuously took his place
with them. He did not wish to be recognized as a disciple of Jesus. By mingling carelessly
with the crowd, he hoped to be taken for one of those who had brought Jesus to the hall.
But as the light flashed upon Peter's face, the woman who kept the door cast a searching
glance upon him. She had noticed that he came in with John, she marked the look of
dejection on his face, and thought that he might be a disciple of Jesus. She was one of the servants of Caiaphas' household,
and was curious to know. She said to Peter, "Art not thou also one of this Man's
disciples?" Peter was startled and confused; the eyes of the company instantly
fastened upon him. He pretended not to understand her; but she was persistent, and said to
those around her that this man was with Jesus. Peter felt compelled to answer, and said
angrily, "Woman, I know Him not." This was the first denial, and immediately the
cock crew. O Peter, so soon ashamed of thy Master! so soon to deny thy Lord!
The disciple John, upon entering the judgment hall, did not try to conceal the fact that
he was a follower of Jesus. He did not mingle with the rough company who were reviling his
Master. He was not questioned, for he did not assume a false character, and thus lay
himself liable to suspicion. He sought a retired corner secure from the notice
of the mob, but as near Jesus as it was possible for him to be. Here he could see and hear
all that took place at the trial of his Lord.
Peter had not designed that his real character should be known. In assuming an air of
indifference he had placed himself on the enemy's ground, and he became an easy prey to
temptation. If he had been called to fight for his Master, he would have been a courageous
soldier; but when the finger of scorn was pointed at him, he proved himself a coward. Many
who do not shrink from active warfare for their Lord are driven by ridicule to deny their
faith. By associating with those whom they should avoid, they place themselves in the way
of temptation. They invite the enemy to tempt them, and are led to say and do that of
which under other circumstances they would never have been guilty. The disciple of Christ
who in our day disguises his faith through dread of suffering or reproach denies his Lord
as really as did Peter in the judgment hall.
Peter tried to show no interest in the trial of his Master, but his heart was wrung with
sorrow as he heard the cruel taunts, and saw the abuse He was suffering. More than this,
he was surprised and angry that Jesus should humiliate Himself and His followers by
submitting to such treatment. In order to conceal his true feelings, he endeavored to join
with the persecutors of Jesus in their untimely jests. But his appearance was unnatural.
He was acting a lie, and while seeking to talk unconcernedly he could not restrain
expressions of indignation at the abuse heaped upon his Master.
Attention was called to him the second time, and he was again charged with being a
follower of Jesus. He now declared with an oath, "I do not know the Man." Still
another opportunity was given him. An hour had passed, when one of the servants of the
high priest, being a near kinsman of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked him,
"Did not I see thee in the garden with Him?" "Surely thou art one of them:
for thou art a Galilean, and thy speech agreeth thereto." At this Peter flew into a
rage. The disciples of Jesus were noted for the purity of their language, and in order
fully to deceive his questioners, and justify his assumed character, Peter now denied his
Master with cursing and swearing. Again the cock crew. Peter heard it then, and he
remembered the words of Jesus, "Before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny Me
thrice." Mark 14:30.
While the degrading oaths were fresh upon Peter's lips, and the shrill
crowing of the cock was still ringing in his ears, the Saviour turned from the frowning
judges, and looked full upon His poor disciple. At the same time Peter's eyes were drawn
to his Master. In that gentle countenance he read deep pity and sorrow, but there was no
anger there.
The sight of that pale, suffering face, those quivering lips, that look of compassion and
forgiveness, pierced his heart like an arrow. Conscience was aroused. Memory was active.
Peter called to mind his promise of a few short hours before that he would go with his
Lord to prison and to death. He remembered his grief when the Saviour told him in the
upper chamber that he would deny his Lord thrice that same night. Peter had just declared
that he knew not Jesus, but he now realized with bitter grief how well his Lord knew him,
and how accurately He had read his heart, the falseness of which was unknown even to
himself.
A tide of memories rushed over him. The Saviour's tender mercy, His kindness and
long-suffering, His gentleness and patience toward His erring disciples,--all was
remembered. He recalled the caution, "Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you,
that he may sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not."
Luke 22:31, 32. He reflected with horror upon his own ingratitude, his falsehood, his
perjury. Once more he looked at his Master, and saw a sacrilegious hand raised to smite
Him in the face. Unable longer to endure the scene, he rushed, heartbroken, from the hall.
He pressed on in solitude and darkness, he knew not and cared not whither. At last he
found himself in Gethsemane. The scene of a few hours before came vividly to his mind. The
suffering face of his Lord, stained with bloody sweat and convulsed with anguish, rose
before him. He remembered with bitter remorse that Jesus had wept and agonized in prayer
alone, while those who should have united with Him in that trying hour were sleeping. He
remembered His solemn charge, "Watch and pray, that ye enter not into
temptation." Matt. 26:41. He witnessed again the scene in the judgment hall. It was
torture to his bleeding heart to know that he had added the heaviest burden to the
Saviour's humiliation and grief. On the very spot where Jesus had poured out His soul in
agony to His Father, Peter fell upon his face, and wished that he might die.
It was in sleeping when Jesus bade him watch and pray that Peter had prepared the way for
his great sin. All the disciples, by sleeping in that critical hour, sustained a great loss. Christ knew the fiery ordeal through which
they were to pass. He knew how Satan would work to paralyze their senses that they might
be unready for the trial. Therefore it was that He gave them warning. Had those hours in
the garden been spent in watching and prayer, Peter would not have been left to depend
upon his own feeble strength. He would not have denied his Lord. Had the disciples watched
with Christ in His agony, they would have been prepared to behold His suffering upon the
cross. They would have understood in some degree the nature of His overpowering anguish.
They would have been able to recall His words that foretold His sufferings, His death, and
His resurrection. Amid the gloom of the most trying hour, some rays of hope would have
lighted up the darkness and sustained their faith.
As soon as it was day, the Sanhedrin again assembled, and again Jesus was brought into the
council room. He had declared Himself the Son of God, and they had construed His words
into a charge against Him. But they could not condemn Him on this, for many of them had
not been present at the night session, and they had not heard His words. And they knew
that the Roman tribunal would find in them nothing worthy of death. But if from His own
lips they could all hear those words repeated, their object might be gained. His claim to
the Messiahship they might construe into a seditious political claim.
"Art Thou the Christ?" they said, "tell us." But Christ remained
silent. They continued to ply Him with questions. At last in tones of mournful pathos He
answered, "If I tell you, ye will not believe; and if I also ask you, ye will not
answer Me, nor let Me go." But that they might be left without excuse He added the
solemn warning, "Hereafter shall the Son of man sit on the right hand of the power of
God."
"Art Thou then the Son of God?" they asked with one voice. He said unto them,
"Ye say that I am." They cried out, "What need we any further witness? for
we ourselves have heard of His own mouth."
And so by the third condemnation of the Jewish authorities, Jesus was to die. All that was
now necessary, they thought, was for the Romans to ratify this condemnation, and deliver
Him into their hands.
Then came the third scene of abuse and mockery, worse even than that received from the
ignorant rabble. In the very presence of the priests and rulers, and with their sanction,
this took place. Every feeling of sympathy or humanity had gone out of their hearts. If
their arguments
were weak, and failed to silence His voice, they had other weapons, such as in all ages
have been used to silence heretics,--suffering, and violence, and death.
When the condemnation of Jesus was pronounced by the judges, a satanic fury took
possession of the people. The roar of voices was like that of wild beasts. The crowd made
a rush toward Jesus, crying, He is guilty, put Him to death! Had it not been for the Roman
soldiers, Jesus would not have lived to be nailed to the cross of Calvary. He would have
been torn in pieces before His judges, had not Roman authority interfered, and by force of
arms restrained the violence of the mob.
Heathen men were angry at the brutal treatment of one against whom nothing had been
proved. The Roman officers declared that the Jews in pronouncing condemnation upon Jesus
were infringing upon the Roman power, and that it was even against the Jewish law to
condemn a man to death upon his own testimony. This intervention brought a momentary lull
in the proceedings; but the Jewish leaders were dead alike to pity and to shame.
Priests and rulers forgot the dignity of their office, and abused the Son of God with foul
epithets. They taunted Him with His parentage. They declared that His presumption in
proclaiming Himself the Messiah made Him deserving of the most ignominious death. The most
dissolute men engaged in infamous abuse of the Saviour. An old garment was thrown over His
head, and His persecutors struck Him in the face, saying, "Prophesy unto us, Thou
Christ, Who is he that smote Thee?" When the garment was removed, one poor wretch
spat in His face.
The angels of God faithfully recorded every insulting look, word, and act against their
beloved Commander. One day the base men who scorned and spat upon the calm, pale face of
Christ will look upon it in its glory, shining brighter than the sun.
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