THEKING’SBUSINES H EA R T O F T H E LESSON
514
By T. C. *T' HERE are four points in this lesson upon which we can fix our thoughts with interest and profit : The Crucifixion, ' The Cruel Mockery, U The Curtain Rent, The Cry of the Lord. How can we write about the heart of /this lesson? To know the heart of this lesson wé would be compelled to go back into the aforetime eternity when in the counsels the die’ was cast anil the Son of God was set apart for the greatest of all world tragedies. 'You touch thé pulsing heart of God, the FatheTr; God, the Son; and God, the Holy Spirit. The Crucifixion : There will be no trouble in teaching this lesson. The difficulty will be for time in which to paint the picture. “All the light of sacred story, gathers round His head divine,” The light of the world is going out. Darkness is spreading its can opy over the earth; and earth itself is groaning and shaking in sympathy vyith Him who was its Creator and upon whom it must depend. The darkness veils the agony of His soul. Sin—that dark, dread ful, devilish, damning thing that had cast its blight upon humanity, and its curse upon the material world—sin was crowd ing the Son of God to the wall* There was the cup—He must drink its dregs. There was the load—He must bear it all. The accumulated sin of the centuries was crushing His soul. There were the hosts qf hell—the armies of the Dark Prince —• rioting in hellish delight over their triumph. He was the One hated of the Devil; now He was the victim of their torment. There was the mocking, scoffing crowd—His own kinsmen, the Jews; the soldiers of Rome, sporting at His feet. But worst of all, most dreadful of all, was the desertion of God whose face was hidden from Him. He was enduring the tortures of the damned in hell. The waves and billows dashed against His soul. He ;was treading the winepress of God’s wrath alone. There is
Horton. no human hand to touch with sympathy ; there is no Divine word of comfort; He is alone. Every fibre of His human body pulsing with pain, but deeper far than all that the flesh could feel, His soul cries out from the midst of the agony, distress, pain, sorrow, humiliation, guilt of sin, separation. No sound such as that which issued from His lips has ever broken the stillness of the dark and dreary night: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken Me?” There is nothing that can be added. God is dying. Nature is sobbing. Man is railing. Satan is laughing. Hell is exalted. In the presence of this scene can any man have light, superficial thoughts of sin? Can any one doubt the fact of God’s wrath against sin? Can there be any other inter pretation of the picture than that of God’s infinite love and grace in giving His Son? Of Christ’s unequalled love in the bearing of the sins of the whole world? Of the tenderness of the heart of the Holy Spirit as He penned the story and comes to fasten its truth on the human soul? Could any one turn away from this scene and be indifferent to the sacrifice of the Lord Jesus, unmindful of His entreaties to come to Him for rest? What kind of a man or woman or child could that one be who could trample under foot the precious, aton ing blood of the Lamb of God? Yet this is what every unbelieving skeptic, infidel, Uni tarian, Eddyite, Theosophist, and Russellite does. How we should pray for them! God pity them. What must be the awful doom of those who turn from the sight of the Cross, from the bleeding hleart ' of the Saviour of the world, to follow cunningly devised fables of crafty, designing men and women ? PRACTICAL POINTS (1) They found no fault in Him, but they found a way to kill Him. (2) The Cross settled forever the sin question.
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