John says that Jesus "went out ... unto the place called the place of a skull, which is called in Hebrew Golgotha." The place was also called Calvary. We do not certainly know the sacred spot, though careful students think it is north of the city, near the Damascus gate, near the gardens of the ancient city, and tombs that still remain. We think of John revisiting it again and again while he remained in Jerusalem, and then in thought in his distant home where he wrote of it. "There," says John, "they crucified Jesus, and with Him two others, on either side one, and Jesus in the midst." How few his words, but how full of meaning. We long to know more of John's memories of that day--of all that he saw and felt and did. They were such in kind and number as none other than he did or could have.

There were two contrasted groups of four each around the cross, to which John calls special attention. One, the nearest to it, was composed of Roman soldiers, to whom were committed the details of the crucifixion--the arrangement of the cross, the driving of the nails, and the elevation of the victim upon it.

Having stripped Jesus of His clothing, according to custom they divided it among themselves; the loose upper garment or toga to one, the head-dress to another, the girdle to another, and the sandals to the last. John watched the division--"to every soldier a part." But his interest was chiefly in the under-garment such as Galilean peasants wore. This must have been a reminder of the region from which he and Jesus had come. He thinks it worth while to describe it as "without seam, woven from the top throughout." Perhaps to him another reminder--of Mary or Salome or other ministering women by whose loving hands it had been knit. If ever a garment, because of its a.s.sociations, could be called holy, surely it is what John calls "the coat" of Jesus.

Even without miraculous power, it would be the most precious of relics.

We notice John's interest in it as he watches the soldiers'

conversation of banter or pleasantry or quarrel, in which it might become worthless by being torn asunder. He remembered their parleying, and the proposal in which it ended,--"Let us not rend it, but cast lots for it whose it shall be." How far were their thoughts from his when their words recalled to him the prophecy they were unconsciously fulfilling,--"They part My garments among them, and upon My vesture do they cast lots."

With what pity did Jesus look down upon the lucky soldier--so he would be called--sporting with the coat which had protected Him from the night winds of Gethsemane. How He longed to see in the bold and heartless heirs to His only earthly goods, the faith of her, who timidly touched the hem of His garment. What a scene was that for John to behold! What a scene for angels who had sung the glories of Jesus' birth, now looking down upon His dying agonies of shame--and upon the gambling dice of His murderers! No marvel John added to the almost incredible story, "These things ... the soldiers did."

It is at this point that we notice a sudden transition in John's narrative. He points us from the unfriendly group of four, to another of the same number; saying as if by contrast, "_But_ there were standing by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas and Mary Magdalene." By "His mother's sister" we understand Salome.

The centurion had charge of the plundering soldiers; John was the guardian of the sympathizing women. He had a special interest in that group, containing his mother and aunt, and probably another relative in Mary the wife of Clopas. Mary Magdalene was not of this family connection, though of kindred spirit. So must John have felt as she stood with him at the cross, and at a later hour when we shall see them together again.

In the days of the boyhood of John and Jesus, we thought of their mothers as sisters, and of parents and children as looking for the coming Messiah. None thought of the possibilities of this hour when they would meet in Jerusalem at the cross. By it stands John the only one of the Apostles. Judas has already gone to "his own place." If Peter is following at all it is afar off. The rest have not rallied from their flight enough to appear after their flight. James the brother of John is not with him. As their mother looks upon Jesus between two robbers, does she recall her ambitious request, "Command that these my two sons may sit, one on Thy right hand, and one on Thy left hand"? She understands now the fitness of the reply she had received,--"Ye know not what ye ask"?

But Salome and John are loyal to the uncrowned King. Though they may not share the glory of His throne, they are yet ready to stand beneath the shameful shadow of His cross.

But another is there,--drawn by a yet stronger cord of affection. She heads John's list of the women "by the cross of Jesus--His mother,"

whose love is so deep that it cannot forego witnessing the sight that fills her soul with agony. Yes, Mary, thou art there.

"Now by that cross thou tak'st thy final station, And shar'st the last dark trial of thy Son; Not with weak tears or woman's lamentation, But with high, silent anguish, like His own."

--_H.B. Stowe_.

As she stands there we seem to read her thoughts: "Can that be He, my babe of Bethlehem, my beautiful boy of Nazareth, in manhood my joy and my hope! Are those hands the same that have been so lovingly held in mine; those arms, outstretched and motionless, the same that have so often been clasped around me! Oh! that I might staunch His wounds, and moisten His parched lips, and gently lift that th.o.r.n.y crown from His bleeding brow."

But this cannot be. There is being fulfilled Simeon's prophecy, uttered as he held her infant in his arms,--a foreboding which has cast a mysterious shadow on the joys of her life.

"Beside the cross in tears The woeful mother stood, Bent 'neath the weight of years, And viewed His flowing blood; Her mind with grief was torn, Her strength was ebbing fast, And through her heart forlorn, The sword of Anguish pa.s.sed."

She can only draw yet nearer to His cross and give the comfort of a mother's look, and perhaps receive the comfort of a look from Him, and--oh, if it can be--a word of comfort from His lips for the mother-heart. Perhaps for a moment her thoughts are on the future,--her lonely life, without the sympathy of her other sons who believed not on their brother. Oh! that they were like John, to her already more of a son than they.

In childhood Jesus had been "subject" to her: in youth and manhood He had been faithful to her. In the Temple He had thought of her as His mother, and of G.o.d as His Father. But no exalted relation, no greatness to which He had attained on earth, had made Him disloyal to her. While claiming to be the Son of G.o.d, He was still the loving son of Mary. Such He would show Himself to be on the cross. We thank John for the record of that moment when "Jesus ... saw His mother." "The people stood beholding" Him, but His eyes were not on them; nor on those pa.s.sing by His cross wagging their heads, nor the malefactor at His side reviling Him; nor on the chief priest and scribes, the elders and soldiers mocking Him; nor the rulers deriding Him. His thought was not on them, nor even on Himself in His agonies, as His eyes rested keenly on His mother. It was a deep, tender, earnest gaze.

John tells that Jesus also "saw" "the disciples standing by, whom He loved." The Lord turned His head from His mother to His disciple. This could be His only gesture pointing them one to the other.

The prayer for His murderers had apparently been uttered when His hands were pierced, before the cross was raised. He may have spoken once after it was elevated, before He saw the two special objects of His love. His eyes met His mother's. She saw Him try to speak. The utterance of His parched lips, with gasping breath, was brief, full of meaning and tenderness--"Woman! behold, thy son!" Then turning toward John He said, "Behold! thy mother!"

In these words Jesus committed His mother to John without asking whether he would accept the charge.

"From that hour the disciple took her unto his own home." It is a question whether or not the phrase, "from that hour," is to be taken literally. It may be that the blessed words, "mother" and "son," were as a final benediction, after which John led her away, and then returned to the cross. Or, it may be that the mother-heart compelled her to witness the closing scenes.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE VIRGIN AND ST. JOHN AT THE CROSS _Old Engraving_ Page 193]

If we pause long enough to inquire why John was chosen to be trusted with this special charge, we can find probable answer. Jesus' "brethren"

did not then believe on Him. Mary's heart would go out toward him who did, especially as he was her kindred as well as of a kindred spirit.

His natural character, loving and lovable, made him worthy of the trust.

Apparently he was better able to support her than were any other of the Apostles, and perhaps even than her sons. He seems to have been the only Apostle or relative of Mary who had a home in Jerusalem, where she certainly would choose to dwell among the followers of the Lord. Above all John was the beloved disciple of Mary's beloved son. So to him we can fittingly say:

"As in death He hung, His mantle soft on thee He flung Of filial love, and named the son; When now that earthly tie was done, To thy tried faith and spotless years Consigned His Virgin Mother's tears."

--_Isaac Williams_.--Trans. An. Latin Hymn.

Blessed John. When Jesus called His own mother "thy mother," didst thou not almost hear Him call thee "My brother"?

One tradition says that John cared for Mary in Jerusalem for twelve years, until her death, before his going to Ephesus. Another tradition is that she accompanied him thither and was buried there. What a home was theirs, ever fragrant with the memory of Him whom they had loved until His death. No incidents in His life, from the hour of brightness over Bethlehem to that of darkness over Calvary, was too trivial a thing for their converse. That home in Jerusalem became what the one in Nazareth had been, the most consecrated of earth. What welcomes there of Christians who could join with Mary as she repeated her song of thirty-three years before, "My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in G.o.d my Saviour." Of her we shall gain one more distinct view--the only one.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS _Rubens_ Page 200]

_CHAPTER XXVII_

_John the Lone Disciple at the Cross--Continued_

Three sayings on the cross reported by John:

"Woman, behold, thy son! Behold, thy mother!"

"I thirst."

"It is finished."

--_John_ xix. 26, 27, 28, 30.

Of the seven sayings of Christ on the cross, three are preserved by John only; one of love, another of suffering, and another of triumph. The first is that to Mary and John himself. The second is the cry, "I thirst"--the only one of the seven concerning the Lord's bodily sufferings. John was a most observing eyewitness, as is shown by the details of the narrative,--the "vessel _full_ of vinegar," the "sponge filled with vinegar," and the hyssop on which it was placed, the movements of the soldiers as they put it to Christ's lips, and the manner in which He received it. He was willing to accept it to revive His strength to suffer, when "He would not drink" the "wine mingled with gall" that would relieve Him from the pain He was willing to endure. The end was drawing near. The thirst had long continued. He had borne it patiently for five long hours. Why did He at last utter the cry, "I thirst"? John gives the reason. A prophecy was being fulfilled, and Jesus would have it known. It was this: "In My thirst they gave Me vinegar to drink." So "Jesus, ... that the Scripture might be fulfilled, saith, 'I thirst.'"

John watched Him as He took His last earthly draught. It was probably of the sour wine for the use of the soldiers on guard. What varied a.s.sociations he had with wine,--the joyful festivities of Cana, the solemnities of the Upper Room, and the sadness of Calvary.

When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, He said, "It is finished." This is the third of the sayings of Jesus on the cross preserved by John, who was a special witness to the chief doings of his Lord on the earth. So the declaration meant more to him than to any other who heard it. Yet it had a fulness of meaning which even he could not fully know. Jesus' life on earth was finished. He had perfectly obeyed the commandments of G.o.d. The types and prophecies concerning Him had been fulfilled. His revelation of truth was completed. The work of man's redemption was done. On the cross He affirmed what John said He declared in the Upper Room to His Father: "I have glorified Thee on the earth, having accomplished the work Thou hast given Me to do."

All four Evangelists tell of the moment when Jesus yielded up His life, but John alone of the act that accompanied it as the signal thereof, which his observant eye beheld. "He bowed His head,"--not as the helpless victim of the executioner's knife upon the fatal block, but as the Lord of Life who had said, "No one taketh it away from Me, but I lay it down of Myself."

John makes mention of another incident without which the story of the crucifixion would be incomplete. Mary Magdalene and other loving women had left the cross, but were gazing toward it as they "stood afar off."

John remained with the soldiers who were watching the bodies of the crucified. "The Jews, ... that the bodies should not remain upon the cross upon the Sabbath, asked of Pilate that their legs might be broken"--to hasten death--"and that they might be taken away." As John saw the soldiers "break the legs of the first and of the other which was crucified with" Jesus, with what a shudder did he see them approach His cross; but what a relief to him when they "saw that He was dead already, and brake not His legs."

In a single clause John pictures a scene ever vivid in Christian thought. He knew that Jesus "gave up His spirit" when "He bowed His head." The executioners p.r.o.nounced Him dead. "Howbeit one of the soldiers"--to make this certain beyond dispute--"with a spear pierced His side, and straightway there came out blood and water." There was now no pain to excite the Apostle's sympathy, and yet he reports the incident as being of special importance. He calls attention to the fact that he was an eye-witness, and that there was something in it that should affect others as well as himself. He says, "He that hath seen hath borne witness, and his witness is true; and he knoweth that he saith true, that ye also may believe." He explains why these incidents so deeply impressed him. They recalled two prophecies of the Old Testament. One was this, "A bone of Him shall not be broken." This reminded John of the Paschal Lamb which should be perfect in body; and of Jesus as the Lamb of G.o.d, by which name He had been called when pointed out to him as the Messiah. All through life Jesus had been preserved from accident that would have broken a bone, and in death even from the intended purpose that would have defeated the fulfilment of the prophecy.

The other prophecy was this,--"They shall look on Him whom they pierced." Because of what John saw and tells, we pray in song,

"Let the water and the blood From Thy riven side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure: Cleanse me from its guilt and power."

[Ill.u.s.tration: IN THE SEPULCHRE _H. Hofmann_ Page 201]

John once more furnishes a contrast between Jesus' foes and friends. He says that the Jews asked Pilate that the bodies of the crucified might be taken away. This was to the dishonored graves of malefactors. John more fully than the other Evangelists tells of Joseph of Arimathaea who "besought Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus"--for honorable burial. Other Evangelists tell of his being "rich," "a counsellor of honorable estate," "a good man and a righteous," who "had not consented to" the "counsel and deed" of the Sanhedrin of which he was a member, because he "was Jesus' disciple." Mark says, "He boldly went in unto Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus." He had summoned courage so to do. Hitherto as John explains he had been "a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews." John implies that Joseph was naturally timid like Nicodemus. As Pilate had delivered Jesus to His open enemies to be crucified, he delivered the crucified body to Joseph, the once secret but now open friend. The Jews "led him"--the living Christ--"away to crucify Him." Joseph "came" and tenderly "took away His body" from the cross.

"There came also Nicodemus," says John, "he who at the first came to Him by night." Yes, that night which John could not forget, in which to this same Nicodemus Jesus made known the Gospel of G.o.d's love, manifested in the gift of His Son whose body in that hour these timid yet emboldened members of the Sanhedrin took down from the cross. They were sincere mourners with him who watched their tender care as they "bound it in linen cloths with the spices" for burial, with no thought of a resurrection.