But this was a death of the most ignominious and painful description. Mary beheld her Son suffering the shame of a public execution and the torment of a cross. She saw him suspended between heaven and earth, as if unworthy of either, crucified between two malefactors, and insulted by an outrageous mob. She heard the revengeful speeches of that infatuated multitude, and the mutual congratulations of those by whom they were instigated, and who ridiculously imagined they had obtained a decisive victory! The terror of this hour and power of darkness pervaded her own spirit, and she lived to feel a greater horror than it is in the power even of the king of terrors himself to inflict.
This was the crucifixion of an innocent Son! He had experienced indeed the mockery of a judicial proceeding, but had been sacrificed to the ravings of a despicable and infatuated mob, the asseverations of perjured witnesses, the timidity of Pilate, and the hatred of every class of Jews. No guile was found in his mouth, no recrimination in his language, no impatience in his conduct. Conscious of perfect innocency, he yet submitted to condemnation and death as a notorious offender; and, with all things under his control, he did not lift a finger to stop the career of injustice, or arrest the course of infernal rage. If the mothers of his two associates in suffering were present on this occasion, whatever bitterness of anguish they had felt to see the mournful end of their own offspring, they could not but admit that public crime demanded public punishment, and sentiments of commiseration must have blended themselves with those of censure when they viewed their fate. But the mother of Jesus saw her beloved Son condemned without reason, and suffering in defiance of justice. In proportion as she knew his innocency she must have felt his loss.
But his character was more than innocent; this, as the astonished centurion exclaimed, "Truly, this man was the Son of God!" Well might she wonder that no angel appeared to rescue the expiring Redeemer, and that he who had saved others did not save himself! Well might she have been confounded at the mysterious circumstance, that he whom winds and waves obeyed, and whose presence on earth was felt by universal nature, should die in apparent disgrace, exposed to the raillery of his inveterate enemies!
This afflicted mother was also a widow! Long since the evangelical narrative has dropped the name of her husband, doubtless because Joseph was no more; but Jesus survived to console her amidst domestic misfortunes, to cheer her declining days, to prop her falling house, to pour the wine of consolation into her cup of sorrow, and the light of celestial truth into her mind. He was all goodness, all perfection, who could never forget a mother--a widowed mother, wherever "he went about doing good"--was to this awful hour her staff and comfort. How keen was the edge of that piercing sword of which Simeon spake, and what unparralleled grief was hers when she saw the cross, and the tortures, and the blood of her Son!
Notwithstanding all, Mary is not seen wringing her hands and tearing her hair in distraction; nor is she heard to utter intemperate language against his persecutors, or to manifest resentment at the dispensations of Heaven: she neither curses man, nor blasphemes God; nor do we observe her fainting beneath the pressure of accumulated woes; but she stands near the cross, in solemn silence, pondering, in an attitude of profound meditation, and submitting to the purposes of Providence.
Let us admire the power of that "grace" which is promised to Christians, "to help them in time of need," and of the efficacy of which the present scene furnishes so substantial an evidence. Is it possible that after such a record as this we should ever doubt or forget the divine assurances--"My grace is sufficient for thee"--"When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee, and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire thou shall not be burnt, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee?" Should thy desponding heart be ready to distrust the wisdom or deny the goodness of thy "Father who is in heaven," when sorrows, diversified and oppressive, burden thy spirit, think of the mother of Jesus at the cross of her Son!
If the sublime sympathy of Mary prevented the recollection of her personal condition, Jesus was not so overwhelmed with affliction as to be unmindful of the future lot of his poor, pennyless, helpless, widowed, and weeping mother; but committed her to the care of his disciple JOHN, directing him to regard her henceforward as a mother, and her to consider him as a son. Woman, behold thy son--"My beloved disciple will fulfil every office of filial tenderness, and at my request he will receive and provide for my destitute parent." Behold, said he, addressing John, behold thy mother; "take her to thy house, allow her to share thy means, respect and supply her as the most endeared relative of thy dying Lord. I have no property to leave, no silver or gold to distribute: this is my fond and my only bequest. I have confidence in thy attachment, and when thou dost minister to her thou wilt remember me."
From this exquisitely touching and instructive scene we must take a lesson of dependence on the providence of God. If he inflict unexpected trials, he affords unexpected supplies. His resources are numberless; and he who raised up John to supply the place of an endeared Son to Mary, can never be at loss for expedients when his people are in distress. One prop is removed, another is substituted. "O fear the Lord, all ye his saints, for there is no want to them that fear him." Earthly cisterns may indeed be broken, and temporal streams of enjoyment may cease, but "the fountain of living waters" is inexhaustible.
Take a lesson of filial piety. Children are under an indispensable obligation to succour their aged parents. If amidst the agonies of crucifixion, Jesus so carefully provided for the future comfort of his maternal parent, be assured "he has set an example wherein we should follow his steps;" and disrespect to such claims is a dereliction of our character, and a forfeiture of our profession as the disciples of Christ.
Learn to be prompt in your obedience to every requisition of your Lord. It is an honour to be employed by him in any service, whatever it may cost us. John did not hesitate, or indulge in surmisings; he did not think of the trouble, the expense, or the possible danger of harbouring the mother of one who was executed as an enemy to Cesar; but "from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home." If the sacred history had followed him to his lowly habitation, where our imaginations are ready to accompany John and his venerable charge, it would doubtless have exhibited a specimen of tender friendship and unwearied assiduity. What could John deny to the mother of his Lord? How eagerly would he promote her comfort! What "sweet converse" would they "hold together" upon the life, the miracles, the doctrines, the precepts, the death of Jesus! What a gleam of light and joy would the remembrance of one so dear throw upon the darkest scene of their lives, and how would the glory of his subsequent ascension, and dignity in the invisible world, occupy their daily intercourse and their most devotional moments! "The sweet hour of prime," and the serenity of "evening mild," and "twilight gray," would still find them amidst the wonders of the cross or the triumphs of the resurrection.