There is nothing which so thoroughly tests the heart as the doctrine of the cross — the path of the rejected, crucified Jesus of Nazareth. This probes man’s heart to its deepest depths. If it be merely a question of religiousness, man can go an amazing length; but religiousness is not Christ. We need not travel farther than the opening lines of our chapter (Matt. 26.) in order to see a striking proof of this. Look, for a moment, at the palace of the high priest and what do you see? A special meeting of the heads and leaders of the people. “Then assembled together the chief priests, and the scribes, and the elders of the people, unto the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas.”
Here, assuredly, you have religion, and that, too, in a very imposing form. We must remember that these priests, scribes, and elders were looked up to, by the professed people of God, as the great depositaries of sacred learning, as the sole authority in all matters of religion, and as holding office under God, in that system which had been set up of God in the days of Moses. The assembly in the palace of Caiaphas was not composed of the pagan priests and augurs of Greece and Rome, but of the professed leaders and guides of the Jewish nation. And what were they doing in their solemn conclave? They were “consulting that they might take Jesus by subtlety, and kill him.”
Reader, ponder this. Here were religious men, and men of learning, men of weight, no doubt, and influence among the people; and yet these men hated Jesus, and they were met in council, in order to plot His death — to take Him craftily and kill Him. Now those men could have talked to you about God and His worship — about Moses and the law — about the Sabbath and all the great ordinances and solemnities of the Jewish religion. But they hated Christ. Remember tins most solemn fact. Men may be very religious; they may be the religious guides and teachers of others, and yet hate the Christ of God. This is one grand lesson to be learned in the palace of Caiaphas the high priest. Religiousness is not Christ; on the contrary, the most zealous religionists have often been the most bitter and vehement haters of that blessed One.
But, it may be said, “Times are changed. Religion is now so intimately associated with the Name of Jesus, that to be a religious man is, of necessity, to be a lover of Jesus. You could not, now, find aught answering to the palace of Caiaphas.” Is this really so? We cannot believe it, for a moment. The Name of Jesus is as thoroughly hated in Christendom, now, as it was in the palace of Caiaphas. And those who seek to follow Jesus will be hated too. We need not go far to prove this. Jesus is still a rejected one, in this world. Where, let us ask, will you hear His Name? Where is He a welcome theme? Speak of Him where you will, in the drawing-rooms of the wealthy and the fashionable, in the railway carriage, in the saloon of a steam-boat, in the coffee-room, or the dining-hall, in short, in any of the resorts of men, and you will, in almost every case, be told that such a theme is out of place. You may speak of anything else, politics, money, business, pleasure, nonsense. These things are always in place, everywhere; Jesus is never in place anywhere. We have seen in our streets, times without number, the public thoroughfares interrupted by German bands, ballad-singers, and puppet-shows, and they have never been molested, reproved, or told to move on; but let a man stand, in such places, to speak of Jesus, and he will be insulted, or told to move on and not stop a thoroughfare. In plane language, there is room everywhere, in this world, for the devil, but no room for the Christ of God. The world’s motto as to Christ is, “Oh! breathe not His Name.”
But, thank God, if we see around us much that answers to the palace of the high priest, we can also see, here and there, that which corresponds with the house of Simon the leper. There are, blessed be God, those who love the Name of Jesus, and who count Him worthy of the alabaster box. There are those who are not ashamed of His precious cross — those who find their absorbing object in Him and who count it their chief joy and highest honor to spend and be spent for Him, in any little way. It is not with them a question of work, of religious machinery, of running hither and thither, of doing this or that: No; it is Christ, it is being near Him, and being occupied with Him; it is sitting at His feet, and pouring the precious ointment of the heart’s true devotion upon Him.
Reader, be thou well assured that this is the true secret of power both in service and testimony. A just appreciation of a crucified Christ is the living spring of all that is acceptable to God, whether in the life and conduct of an individual Christian, or in all that goes on in our public assemblies. Genuine attachment to Christ and occupation with Him must characterize us personally and congregationally, else our life and history will prove of little worth in the judgment of heaven, however it may be in the judgment of earth. We know of nothing which imparts such moral power to the individual walk and character as intense devotion to the Person of Christ. It is not merely being a man of great faith, a man of prayer, a deeply taught student of Scripture or a scholar, a gifted preacher or a powerful writer. No; it is being a lover of Christ.
And so, as to the assembly; what is the true secret of power? Is it gift, eloquence, fine music, or an imposing ceremonial? No; it is the enjoyment of a present Christ. Where He is, all is light, life, and power. Where He is not, all is darkness, death, and desolation. An assembly where Jesus is not, is a sepulcher, though there be all the fascination of oratory, all the resistless attraction of fine music, and all the influence of an impressive ritual. All these things may exist in perfection, and yet the devoted lover of Jesus may have to cry out, “Alas! they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him.” But, on the other hand, where the presence of Jesus is realized — where His voice is heard, and his very touch felt by the soul, there is power and blessing, though, to man’s view, all may seem the most thorough weakness.
Let Christians remember these things; let them ponder them; let them see to it that they realize the Lord’s presence in their public assemblies; and if they cannot say, with full confidence, of their meetings that the Lord is there, let them humble themselves and wait upon Him, for there must be a cause. He has said, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name there am I in the midst.” But let us never forget that, in order to reach the divine result, there must be the divine condition.