One other illustration shows us—“The Power of Jesus to Protect.”

A young Christian woman, whose family were very well off, was confined to her sick bed for many years. She seldom had any one in the room with her at night. On one occasion she lay awake about midnight. The family were all asleep and the house was very still, when the door of her chamber opened and a man walked softly in. He came towards her bed and then stopped a moment. Her little night lamp was shining on them both, from the stand by her bedside. She did not scream, or cry. The robber looked at this lovely girl, as she gazed on him with perfect calmness. Lifting her finger, and pointing solemnly towards heaven, she said, “Do you know that God sees you?” The man waited a moment, but made no reply. Then he turned and walked quietly away. He had opened no other doors than the street door and the door of her chamber. The omnipotent hand was there, too. What a blessed thing it is to hold on to that hand! Here we see the power of Jesus to protect. The power he had to raise himself from the dead, he has still, to use for the help and comfort of his people.

The second lesson to be learned from the resurrection is a lesson about—the tenderness of Christ.

We learn this lesson from two little incidents connected with the resurrection.

You remember that on the night of our Saviour’s trial, though all the disciples forsook him, yet Peter was the only one of them who denied him. In the very presence of Jesus, he declared with oaths and curses, that he did not know him. How painful this must have been to the blessed Saviour! It might have been expected that when he met Peter again, for the first time after this, he would have had some sharp rebuke to give him. But it was not so. Instead of this, we find that when the angels at the empty tomb met the women who had come early to anoint the body of Jesus, they told them that he had risen from the dead, and then charged them to go and tell the good news to “his disciples, and Peter.” He was the only one of all the disciples who was mentioned by name in this message of the angels. “Tell his disciples, and Peter!” How strange this was! The angels did not do it of their own accord. No doubt Jesus had told them to say this. And why did he do so? What led him to do it? It was the tenderness of his loving heart. He knew how badly Peter had been feeling about his shameful denial of him. He knew what bitter tears he had been shedding over his sin. And he wished to let him know that, notwithstanding what he had done, his injured Master had no unkind feeling in his heart towards him. And so he told the angels to say to the women that they should—“go tell his disciples, and Peter,” that their Lord was risen. Here we see the tenderness of Jesus.

Peter and John in the Sepulchre

Peter therefore went forth, and that other disciple, and came to the sepulchre. So they ran both together: and the other disciple did outrun Peter, and came first to the sepulchre. And he stooping down and looking in, saw the linen clothes lying; yet went he not in. Then cometh Simon Peter following him, and went into the sepulchre, and seeth the linen clothes lie. And the napkin, that was about his head, not lying with the linen clothes, but wrapped together in a place by itself. Then went in also that other disciple, which came first to the sepulchre, and he saw and believed. For as yet they knew not the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead. Then the disciples went away again unto their own home.—St. John xx: 3-10.

NOTE BY THE ARTIST

The peculiar construction of the tomb furnishes an interesting commentary upon the text, of which this picture is an illustration. John is described as coming first to the sepulchre “and he stooping down and looking in saw the linen clothes lying; yet went he not in.” Why? Because from his position at the entrance, he could perceive in the uncertain light the outline of the grave-clothes, and he hastily concluded from their undisturbed appearance that the body of his Master was still there. Peter, with characteristic impulsiveness, entered in, and announced the startling discovery that the body of Jesus was indeed removed. “Then went in also that other disciple,” and further examination revealed the well-nigh incredible fact that the grave-clothes and the head-napkin had simply fallen together in a manner only compatible with the supposition that they had not been unwound, but that in some mysterious way the body of the Lord Jesus had actually risen through the cerements of the tomb, leaving not a fold disturbed. As yet the two disciples had not grasped the meaning of their Master’s words that he should rise again, nor of the prophetic utterance of David; but now, they “saw and believed.”