What a scene was that—Jesus "going forth," the three following Him; and Judas in advance, yet in sight of his band, coming to meet Him.
"Hail, Rabbi," was the traitor's salute. And then on this solemn Passover night, in this consecrated place, just hallowed by angelic presence, interrupting the Lord's devotions, rushing upon holiness and infinite goodness, with pretended fellowship and reverence, profaning and repeating—as if with gush of emotion—the symbol of affection, Judas covered the face of Jesus with kisses.
How deep the sting on this "human face divine," already defaced by the bloody sweat, and to be yet more by the mocking reed, and smiting hand and piercing thorn. The vision of the prophet seven hundred years before becomes a reality—"His visage was so marred more than any man." "But nothing went so close to His heart as the profanation of this kiss."
According to John's account, Judas' kiss was an unnecessary signal. Jesus Himself leaving the traitor, advanced toward the band, with a question which must have startled the Apostles, as well as the traitor and his company—"Whom seek ye?" The contemptuous reply, "Jesus of Nazareth," did not disturb His calmness as He said, "I am He," and repeated His question, "Whom seek ye?" Nor was that infinite calmness disturbed by the deeper contempt in the repeated answer, "Jesus of Nazareth." They had come with weapons of defence, but they were as useless as the betrayal kiss, especially when some of them, awed by His presence and words, "went backward and fell to the ground."
We have seen Jesus going forward from His company and meeting Judas going forward from his. We must now think of Judas joining his band, and the eleven disciples surrounding their Lord. John has preserved the only request made of the captors by the Master. It was not for Himself, but for His disciples;—"If therefore ye seek Me, let these go their way."
Three Evangelists tell that one of the disciples struck a servant of the high priest and cut off an ear. Luke the physician says it was the right ear, and that Christ touched it and healed it. John gives the disciple's name, which it was not prudent for the other Evangelists to do when Peter, who struck the blow, was still living. He also preserves the name of the servant, Malchus—the last one on whom he saw the Great Physician perform a healing act, showing divine power and compassion. John records the Lord's reproof to Peter, "Put up thy sword into the sheath; the cup which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?" Can this firm voice be the same which an hour ago, a stone's cast from these two disciples, said beseechingly, "O My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me." Yea, verily, for He had added to the prayer, "Not as I will, but as Thou wilt."
Thus does John's record concerning Peter testify to the triumph of his Lord. But he also notes the immediate effect of Peter's mistaken zeal. The captain and officers "bound Him." That was a strange, humiliating sight, especially in connection with the Lord's words to Peter while returning the sword to its sheath, "Thinkest thou that I cannot beseech My Father, and He shall even now send Me more than twelve legions of angels?" Wonderful words! fitting to be the last of the Lord's utterances to a disciple in Gethsemane. With burning and just indignation at His being bound, Jesus turned to His captors, saying, "Are ye come out as against a robber, to seize Me?" As they closed around Him His disciples were terrified with the fear of a like fate. "And they all left Him and fled." Prophecy was fulfilled; the Shepherd was smitten; the sheep were scattered.
Without the voice of friend or foe, the garden of Olivet was silent. One had left it who, outliving his companions, gives us hints of his lone meditations. The beloved disciple cherished memories of joyous yet sad Gethsemane. He it was who longest remembered, and who alone preserved the prophecy in the Upper Room, so soon fulfilled—"Ye shall be scattered every man to his own, and shall leave Me alone."
In George Herbert's words we hear the Master cry,
"All My disciples fly! fear put a bar
Betwixt My friends and Me; they leave the star
Which brought the Wise Men from the East from far.
Was ever grief like Mine!"