Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1955
“Do you think that I cannot now pray to My Father, and He shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels? But how, then, shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be?” Matthew 26:53, 54.
IT is the garden of Gethsemane. Here stands our Lord and yonder is the betrayer. He is foremost of the multitude. You know his face, the face of that son of perdition, even Judas Iscariot. He comes forward, leaving the men with the staves, the swords, the torches and lanterns. He proceeds to kiss his Master—it is the token by which the officers are to know their victim. You perceive at once that the disciples are excited. One of them cries, “Lord, shall we smite with the sword?” Their love to their Master has overcome their prudence! There are but 11 of them—a small band to fight against the mob sent by the authorities to arrest their Master—but love makes no reckoning of odds. Before an answer can be given, Peter has struck the first blow and the servant of the High Priest has narrowly escaped having his head split in two! As it is, his ear is cut off.
One is not altogether surprised at Peter’s act, for, in addition to his headlong zeal, he had most likely misunderstood the saying of his Lord at supper—“He that has no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one.” There was not time for our Lord to explain, but they were so accustomed to his concrete style of speech that they should not have misunderstood Him, but they did so. He had simply told them that the days of peace, in which they could go in and out among the people and be joyfully received by them, had now come to an end, for, as He, Himself, who had once been in favor with all the people, would now be “reckoned among the transgressors,” (see Luke 22:35-38), so would they be counted among the offscouring of all things. Now they could no longer reckon on the hospitality of a friendly people, but must carry their own purse and scrip. And instead of feeling safe wherever they went, they must understand that they were in an enemy’s country and must travel through the world like men armed for self-defense.
They were now to use their own substance and not to hope for cheerful entertainment among a grateful people. And they would need to be on their guard against those who, in killing them, would think that they were doing God a service. They took His language literally and, therefore, replied, “Lord, behold, here are two swords.” I think He must have smiled sadly at their blunder as He answered, “It is enough.” He could never have thought of their fighting that He might not be delivered unto the Jews, since for that purpose two swords were simply ridiculous! They had missed His meaning, which was simply to warn them of the changed circumstances of His cause—but they caught at the words which He had used and exhibited their two swords.
Possibly, as some have supposed, these were two long sacrificial knives with which they had killed the Paschal lamb, but, indeed, the wearing of weapons is much more general in the East than with us. Our Lord’s disciples were largely Galileans and as the Galileans were more of a fighting sort than other Jews, the wearing of swords was probably very general among them. Nevertheless, two of the Apostles had swords—not that they were fighting men—but probably because it was the fashion of their country and they had thought it necessary to wear them when passing through a dangerous district. At any rate, Peter had a sword and instantly used it. He smites the first man he could reach! I wonder he had not struck Judas—one might have excused him if he had—but it is a servant of the High Priest who bears the blow and loses his ear.
Then the Savior comes forward in all His gentleness, as self-possessed as when He was at supper, as calm as if He had not already passed through an agony. Quietly He says, “Suffer it to be so now.” He touches the ear and heals it—and in the lull which followed, when even the men that came to seize Him were spell-bound by this wondrous miracle of
mercy—He propounds the great Truth of God that they that take the sword shall perish with the sword! And He bids Peter put away his weapon. Then He utters these memorable words—“Do you think that I cannot now pray to My Father, and He shall presently give Me more than twelve legions of angels? But how, then, shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be?” And He also said what John alone appears to have heard—“The cup which My Father has given Me, shall I not drink it?” (John 18:11).
The wound of Malchus served a gracious purpose, for it enabled our Lord to work a new miracle, the likes of which He had never worked before, namely, the restoration of a member maimed or cut off by violence. The blunder of the Apostles was also overruled to answer a very instructive purpose. You wonder that the Lord should, even in appearance, encourage His disciples to have swords and then forbid them to use them. Follow me in a thought which is clear to my own mind. For a man to abstain from using force when he has none to use is no great virtue—it reminds one of the lines of Cowper’s ballad—