“Then they took him, and led him, and brought him into the high priest’s house. And Peter followed afar off,” (Luke 22:54).

 

The last evening Christ would spend prior to his death included a meal of bread and wine with his closest friends in observance of Passover. After dinner, they retired to a quiet garden, a place he often went for respite (Luke 18:2). But tonight would be different, for armed soldiers led by traitorous Judas would soon overtake them here.

Luke describes the narrative, “a band of men and officers from the chief priests and Pharisees, came with lanterns and torches and weapons,” (Luke 18:3). What a contrast of good and evil we find that night in the garden. Hate-filled soldiers, fueled by the rants of religious hypocrites and traitors trample through the garden with the mission to apprehend innocent majesty, one who only exhibited peace and love in both word and deed.

And yet it soon became clear that Christ needed no defense other than his words for he was the Living Word, and the truth he spoke was sharper than any two-edged sword. Though Christ already knew the answer, he asked them who they were looking for. They responded, “Jesus of Nazareth.” Israel had long before been too busy, in borrowing the Philistine’s religion, and now it seems they will be bold with their policy too, their old policy of plowing against Samson, with his own heifer, his own familiar friend (as our Savior himself says) like an untamed heifer, “hath lifted up the heel against him,” (Judges 14:18; Psalm 41:9; Hosea 4:16). Samson, the true Nazarite, is here taken again, bound, abused, blind-folded. By the envious elders Christ is taken, bathing in a bloody sweat, surprised in the Garden, yet not without some instance of that ever-victorious self-armed majesty of innocence, in comparison to the heartless self-betraying cowardice of guilt in Judas and the soldiers, with the least glimpse of which majesty struck them. And when he answers simply, “I am he,” they all fall backward onto the ground because of the sheer power of who he was and from which he spoke.

The Son of God, who not even the heaven of heavens can comprehend, is now, like a malefactor, being apprehended by the very worst of men on earth. The one before whom the elders of heaven cast down their crowns (Rev. 4:10-11) is the same Christ against whom these sons of the earth lift up their swords. He that leads his people like sheep beside the waters of comfort is here himself being led like a sheep to the slaughter (Ps. 23:2; Isa. 53:7). He that is able to bind kings in chains is now himself being bound and led away in cords to suffer torture and death.  

The earth itself could have mediated in an instant to drop these murderous miscreants directly into hell itself, much like when Korah and his followers who rebelled against Moses and Aaron were swallowed up by the earth (Num. 16:1-33). What better situation for God to rain fire from heaven to consume this traitorous captain with his forces, to make one entire holocaust of them all. Christ himself says to them, “Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matt. 26:53). A single angel killed 185,000 Assyrian soldiers in a single night (2 Kings 19:35). Imagine what 72,000 angels could have done!

But that is not God’s purpose and will here. The Son of Man must be taken to be beaten and to die, otherwise God’s grand plan of redemption would be thwarted and Satan would be the victor. This is why Christ did not resist arrest. This is why God did not answer this event with fire from heaven or an earthquake to swallow them up. Christ’s response came in a soft and gentle voice instead. Speaking to Judas, “Friend wherefore art thou come,” (Matt. 26:50), and “I taught daily in the temple, and are you now come with swords?” (Luke 22:53).

Without this response from Christ, how else would the Scriptures be fulfilled, as in Isaiah 53:7, “he shall be led as a sheep to the slaughter, and as a lamb dumb before the shearers.” So do not triumph, you enemy soldiers, that you conquered your captive, for he is the Redeemer. Christ’s love for our hopeless souls in regard to our debt to the Law, as well as his obedience to God the Father, brought about his capture. He could have easily broken those binding cords in two. With a word, he could have cast his enemies into hell itself. The account of what happened with Malchus’ ear was enough to prove that he was a restorer and not a destroyer (Matt. 5:17). Further, Peter is instructed by the Master to put away his sword, for “he that strikes with the sword, shall perish by it,” (Matt. 26:52).

So, it was not the soldiers who arrested Christ or the religious leaders who sealed his fate. But rather it was my sin and his undying love for me that led the spotless Lamb of God down Calvary’s road. He chose to give himself over to these evil, wicked men to do their worst, that I might know God’s best.

Contemplations: 

  1. O my blessed Savior, the Lord of Hosts and God of victory, who make all your people more than conquerors (Rom. 8:37). And yet for me, you chose to die. You willingly allowed yourself to be betrayed into the hands of your murderers, with simply, “I am he whom ye seek,” (John 18:5). And again, “I am he, let these go their way.” Alas, your Father’s wrath for my sin was a cup far more bitter.
  1. Lord, with your simple response, “I am he,” those who came to assault you in the garden fell backward to the ground. (Ps. 27:2). You could have overthrown them all in an instant with mere words, and yet you did not open your mouth against even one of them for my sake.
  1. Scripture gives us many instances where people sought for you, Lord. Herod sent the wise men to search for you, Joseph and Mary sought for you among the multitude of people, and the soldiers sought for you in the garden. It is not enough to seek you ought, Lord, but I must seek you rightly. So let me seek you in your temple (Isa. 56:7), your house of prayer, that place where your honor dwells and not in the garden of pleasures and sensuality, not in the multitude of popular custom. Your own parents did not find you among the multitude, though they sought for you three days with great concern (Luke 2:48). When you were about your Father’s business, teaching in the temple, you answered your own mother with “how is it that ye sought me?” But when you were about the business of dealing with my sin, and were found by your murderers, you answered with “I am he whom ye seek,” as if you were more glad to be found for my safety by those murderers than for your own safety by your mother. Thank you for giving yourself up for my sake, that I might find you when I seek you with my whole heart. 

Further References for Luke 22:54:
Matthew 26:58; Mark 14:54; John 18:15