The Crucified Is My Love. Johann Ernst von Holst

still be made, before his task is fulfilled! That is why he says, “I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished!” A terrible flood surges up against the holy fire – the flood of his suffering, of his death. This is his baptism, his baptism of blood. He knows what awaits him, but he goes straight into it in the strength of love. And he is not ashamed to admit his apprehension. “How great is my distress!” he says.

      We are deeply moved when he speaks. We are filled with wonder when he heals the sick, awakens the dead, and calms the stormy waves. We will fall on our knees before him in worship when we see him one day as judge of the world. But when the heavenly hero is afraid, when his soul trembles, when he pours out his anguish, seeking comfort in his disciples, even hard hearts must become soft. We must call out, “Yes, you are ours, and we are yours!” When this happens, his fire is already kindled.

      6

      Friday Evening

      Humble Yourself, My Heart

       Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came up to him with her sons, and kneeling before him she asked him for something. And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” Jesus answered, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?” They said to him, “We are able.” He said to them, “You will drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.”

       Matthew 20:20–23

      IT WAS A GREAT-HEARTED REQUEST that John and James made through their mother, Salome, to their Master. The thought was a noble one that considered all places of honor beside earthly kings as nothing in comparison with a seat of honor at Jesus’ side. The faith was great: that the glory of the humble Son of Man, in spite of all that he had said about suffering, would soon surpass all human grandeur. The love was ardent, seeking no more blessed goal than to stay beside the Lord forever. A noble courage was needed to dare to ask for such a thing. Yet in spite of all this, an alien fire burned in this request of the Sons of Thunder, for it also contained a forward vanity, a thoughtless pride, and a human messianic hope. So with gentle dignity the Lord rebuked them: “You do not know what you are asking,” and held before their eyes the cup that he would have to drink and the baptism that he would have to undergo. Thus he reminded them in two pictures of the suffering and death facing him.

      Just as once the waters of the Jordan (beside whose banks they were now standing) had been poured over him at his baptism on beginning his mission, now the dark waves of outward suffering were to flood over him. Just as the precious contents of the wine glass must be savored to the full, so he must take the wine of tribulation and accept it inwardly. He must drain God’s cup of wrath in humble submission if the Father’s counsel is to be carried out. In this way the Lord wants to impress deeply upon them the fundamental principle of his kingdom: greatness only through humility; sovereignty only through service; the crown only through the cross. Whoever wants to ascend with Jesus must first descend with him.

      The deep-going question of conscience that Jesus asked – if they could drink his cup and endure his baptism – was answered by both disciples in rash self-confidence, but also in daring truthfulness, with a joyful “Yes!” Later they both honored this “Yes” – John through a long life filled with suffering in faithful service of the Lord, and James through his early, bloody death.

      No one can be a Christian without the cross. The closer we would be to the Lord, the deeper we have to go with him, outwardly or inwardly, into his humiliation and into his suffering. That is essential. So let the Lord’s question pierce deeply into your conscience, my soul: Can you, will you drink his cup? Will you endure his baptism? Blessed are all who, through life and death, can humbly answer, “Yes.”

      7

      Saturday Morning

      The Enemies Gather

       So the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered the council and said, “What are we to do? For this man performs many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.”

       John 11:47–48

      EVER SINCE the Lord’s first appearance, he encountered malicious opposition from the Pharisees and elders. The higher the sun of his activity rose, the deeper grew their hostility. For he had nothing in common with them, nor they with him. They wanted a brilliant, political messianic kingdom; he demanded repentance and a change of heart. They looked for pleasure and power; he demanded obedience and surrendered faith in his divine mission. Thus their hostility rose to the point of murderous hatred. Already when he had been in Jerusalem previously, they had wanted to stone him. He had escaped their clutches at that time, for his hour had not yet come, and he still wanted to allow them a time of grace. Then suddenly he appeared once more before the gates of the royal city in quiet Bethany, where by raising Lazarus his divine majesty was made to shine more gloriously than ever through the garment of lowliness. This deed was a powerful sermon without words, addressed to his nation; it was the last shaking call to his city: “Awake, Jerusalem!” If she did not grasp this last warning, there was nothing for it but that judgment should break in.

      The raising of Lazarus roused tremendous excitement in the people, and many believed in the divine victor over death. But that very fact fanned the hatred, which the ruling classes had nursed for so long, to fanatical rage. A meeting of the council was held, and while the Lord was by the Jordan preparing to drink the cup of suffering, here in the den of hatred the poisoned drink was made ready for him. “What should we do?” asked the elders of Israel. But these men did not ask in order to discover the truth but in order to suppress it; they did not ask in order to find God’s will but in order to force through their own wicked will. They admit: “This man performs many signs; everyone will believe in him.” But instead of hastening to him and placing their hearts and lives at his service in adoration, they consider how to cause his downfall. They do this only to maintain their own influence over the people and so defy the hated Romans in their own way.

      It happens still today that human hearts and political parties, filled with passionate hatred, stifle the voice of truth and conscience to find a favorable opportunity for a crime they have already decided on. But we want to flee from such purpose as from the plague. We would rather suffer and die with the Lord than live and rule without him or against him.

      8

      Saturday Evening

      The High Priest’s Counsel

       But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing at all. Nor do you understand that it is better for you that one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish.”

       John 11:49–50

      THERE IN THE MEETING of the council a pertinent answer is found to the question, “What are we to do?” Caiaphas, the High Priest, listened for a long time to the excited speeches. Now he rose and said, “You know nothing at all. Nor do you understand that it is better for you that one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish.” Some of the council may have secretly had the same thought but not dared to express it openly. Caiaphas, however, shies away from nothing. It is all one to him whether they do right or wrong, whether they fulfill the law or bring bloodguilt upon themselves. His decision is certain. Earthly power must be secured even if heaven is lost in the process. If the agitated populace is to be restored to order and the authority of those in power maintained, then Christ has to die. That is the radical expedient. As always in such meetings, strength prevails. Caiaphas’s suggestion forces its way through, and the most terrible crime of the human race, the murder of the Messiah, is decided.

      The whole meaning and purpose of this murderous decision