John 19 | The Death
December 22, John 19
John 19 is a heavy chapter. The brutal torture and killing of Jesus Christ is no small thing. The question to ponder is, is there any of His blood on our hands?
“There was a day, as I took my walks, where I saw this Friend, my best, my only friend, murdered. I stooped down in sadness and looked at him. I saw that His hands had been pierced with rough iron nails, and His feet had been rent in the same way. His body was emaciated with hunger, His back was red with bloody scourges, and His brow had a circle of wounds about it; clearly could one see that these had been pierced by thorns.
I shuddered, for I had known this Friend full well. He never had a fault; He was the purest of pure, the holiest of the holy. Who could have injured Him? For he never injured anyone. All his life long he “went about doing good;” He healed the sick, He had fed the hungry, he had raised the dead: for which of these works did they kill Him? He never breathed out anything else but love and as I looked into the poor sorrowful face, so full of agony, and yet so full of love, I wondered who could have been a wretch so vile as to pierce hands like His.
Had they murdered an oppressor, we might have forgiven them… but when Thou was slain, my best, my only beloved, where lodged the traitors? Let me seize them and they shall be put to death. Oh! What jealousy, what revenge I felt! If I might but find these murders, what would I not do with them!
And as I looked upon that corpse, I heard a footstep, and wondered where it was. I listened, and I clearly perceived that the murderer was close at hand. It was dark, and I groped about to find him. I found that, somehow or other, wherever I put out my hand, I could not meet with him, for he was nearer to me than my hand would go. At last I put my hand upon my breast. “I have thee now,” said I.
For lo, he was in my own heart; the murderer was hiding within my own bosom, dwelling in the recesses of my inmost soul. Ah then I wept indeed, that I, in the very presence of my murdered Master, should be harboring the murderer and I felt myself most guilty while I bowed over His corpse.” -Charles Spurgeon
Your sin, my sin, killed Jesus. The one we love. Perfect. Never hurt anyone. Never lusted. Never lied. Loved all. Murdered. May this prick our hearts to hate sin, do you see your hands driving in the nails? But, if we allow the thought of the heaviness of sin to lead us away from God, we do not understand why He willingly died. Isaiah 53:
But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
He died to clean us from our sin, out of love. He died so we could say: Hebrews 4:16
“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
Be pricked in heart over your sin, but treasure the Gospel and sprint to God's embrace confidently. Take sin seriously. Take the Gospel seriously. That is the way forward. It's not too late to repent. Yesterday's sins don't have to lead to today's.
Reflective question:
Take some time during Christmas to reflect on the death of Jesus for you. What has Jesus not done to earn our trust?
Marveling at His sacrifice for me, a sinner,
Josh.