Therefore doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one taketh it away from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This command ment received I from my Father.” He gave His life willingly out of His bound less love. Norman Mcleod used to tell the story of the Highland Scotch mother. She was a widow; taking her babe, she started to walk across the mountains, some ten miles, to the home of a relative. A terrible snowstorm suddenly fell upon the hills, and little by little the mother’s strength failed. Next day, when men found her body it was almost stripped of clothing. Her chilled and dying hands had wrapped her own clothing about the child, which was found in a sheltered nook, safe and sound. Years later the son of the minister who had conducted the mother’s funeral went to Glasgow to preach a sermon. Somehow he was reminded of the story he had often heard his father tell. Instead of preaching the sermon he had prepared, he simply told the story of the Highland mother’s love. A few days later he was called to the bed of a dying man. “ You do not know me,” said the man. “ Although I have lived in Glasgow many years, I have never attended a church. The other day I happened to pass your door as the snow came down. I heard the singing and slipped into a back seat. There I heard the story of the widow and her son.” The man stopped, his voice was choking, his eyes were filled. “ I am that son,” he sobbed at last. “Never did I forget my mother’s love, but I never saw the love of God in giving Himself for me until now. It was God who made you tell that story. My mother did not die in vain. Her prayer is answered.” How dimly, yet how beautifully, this pictures the love of the Saviour for a condemned
and cursed race. Truly, He had His part in the crucifixion, for He loved us and gave Himself for us. More we could not ask, and less would never have availed for us. But there is still another face to this many-sided question. We have not grasped the complete truth until we are convinced that The Father Had His Part God the Father had His part also. The Psalmist tells us that the Messiah on the cross would say (Psa. 22:15): “ And thou hast brought me into the dust of death.” It was Isaiah who foretold: (53:10) “ Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief.” The New Testament bears the same testimony. Paul declared: (2 Cor. 5:19 R.V.) “ God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not reckoning unto them their trespasses.” The love of God the Father did not permit Him to withold even His blessed Son. For “ God . . . spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all” (Rom 8:32 R.V.). The love of God has expressed itself most fully in the cross of the Messiah. An atheist, blaspheming in a certain market-place, challenged God to show His power by striking him dead within five minutes. The five minutes elapsed, and following the tense delay, the man said to his audience, “What did I tell you?” An old lady standing by said, “ Sir, have you any children?” “Why?” “ Well,” said the lady, “ If one of your children handed you a knife and said, ‘Kill me, Daddy,’ would you do it?” “Why, no,” said the astonished man, “ I love them too much.” “ That is exactly why God did not strike you dead,” said the lady, “ He loves you too much.” And that’s why He gave His well-beloved Son to die for us on the cruel cross of shame. Finally, to answer adequately the ques
tion as to who crucified Jesus, we must admit that The World Had Its Part All the world had its share in the death of the Lord Jesus the Messiah. It was the sins of all of us that put Him to the shameful death. Universal sin and guilt nailed Him to the accursed tree. “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniq uity of us all” (Isa. 53:6). His bearing of our sin was very personal and real, and our acceptance of His work for us must be so also. No matter how vile the individual, his sins have been car ried to the cross by Christ and there is redemption for him too. Long ago a class of medical students were being taken through the wards of a hospital. The professor was showing them a strange case, a man wrecked physically and morally, a broken frag ment of humanity. The professor said, in Latin, “ Let us try the experiment on a worthless body.” But the patient was an old university man, and understood the remark not intended for his ears. He arose in bed and answered back, “Pro hoc corpore vili Jesus Christus mortuus est” (“ For this worthless body Jesus Christ has died” ). And for us all too. Someone has expressed it well: “ ’Twas I that shed the sacred blood, I nailed Him to the tree; I crucified the Christ of God, I joined the mockery. “Of all that shouting multitude I feel that I am one; And in that din of voices rude I recognize my own. “ Around the Cross the throng I see Mocking the Sufferer’s groan; Yet still my voice, it seems to be As if 1 mocked alone.”
G IVE ME THE BIBLE Give me the Bible, star of gladness gleaming To cheer the wand'rer lone and tempest-tossed; No storm can hide that radiance peaceful beaming Since Jesus came to seek and save the lost. Give me the Bible when my heart is broken. When sin and grief have filled my soul with fear; Give me the precious words by Jesus spoken. Hold up faith's lamp to show my Saviour near. Give me the Bible, all my steps enlighten. Teach me the danger of these realms below; That lamp of safety o'er the gloom shall brighten. That light alone the path of peace can show. Give me the Bible, lamp of life immortal. Hold up that splendor by the open grave; Show me the light from heaven's shining portal. Show me the glory gilding Jordan's wave. Give me the Bible, holy message shining; Thy light shall guide me in the narrow way; Precept and promise, law and love combining. Till night shall vanish in eternal day. —Priscilla J. Owens Page Eighteen
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