The Preacher's Homiletical Commentary
Matthew 27:45-56
CRITICAL NOTES
Matthew 27:45. From the sixth hour.—The first three Gospels agree as to time and fact. Assuming them to follow the usual Jewish reckoning (as in Acts 2:15; Acts 3:1; Acts 10:3; Acts 10:9) this would be noon. St. John names the “sixth hour” as the time of our Lord’s final condemnation by Pilate, following apparently (though this is questioned by many interpreters) the Roman or modern mode of reckoning from midnight to noon. Looking to the facts of the case, it is probable that our Lord was taken to the high priest’s palace about 3 a.m. (the “cockcrow” of Mark 13:35). Then came the first hearing before Annas (John 18:13), then the trial before Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin, then the formal meeting that passed the sentence. This would fill up the time probably till 6 a.m., and two hours or so may be allowed for the proceedings before Pilate and Herod. After the trial was over there would naturally be an interval for the soldiers to take their early meal, and then the slow procession to Golgotha, delayed, we may well believe, by our Lord’s falling, once or oftener, beneath the burden of the cross; and so we come to 9 a.m. for His arrival at the place of crucifixion (Plumptre). Darkness.—Not an ordinary eclipse of the sun, inasmuch as the Passover was celebrated at the time of full moon. Over all the land.—The Evangelist was thinking, indefinitely and indeterminately, of the terrestrial region of which Jerusalem was the centre (Morison).
Matthew 27:47. Calleth for Elias.—Calleth Elijah (R.V.). A blasphemous Jewish joke, by an awkward and godless pun upon Eli (Meyer). If we conceive to ourselves the state of matters, we may easily assume that joking and mockery were now past (see Luke 23:48). It may be supposed that the loud cry, “Eli, Eli!” wakened up the consciences of the onlooking Jews, and filled them with the thought, “Perhaps the turning-point may now actually have come, and Elijah may appear to bring in the day of judgment and vengeance;” and, occupied thus, they may not have heard the remaining words (Lange).
Matthew 27:48. Sponge.—Which, perhaps, served as a cork for the vessel containing the vinegar. Gave Him to drink.—Christ drank this draught—
1. Because the wine was unmixed.
2. Because now the moment of rest had come (Lange).
Matthew 27:54. The centurion.—See on Matthew 8:5. He was the “military superintendent of the execution” (Brown). They that were with him.—The quaternion of soldiers (see John 19:23).
Matthew 27:55. Ministering.—See Luke 8:3.
Matthew 27:56. Mary Magdalene.—A native of Magdala, a very warm-hearted disciple of Jesus, out of whom He had cast seven devils (Luke 8:2). There is not the slightest ground in the New Testament history for the popular identification of the Magdalene with the great sinner of Luke 7:36. It had its origin, probably, from the proximity of the two passages (Macpherson). Mary, the mother of James and Joses.—James had been apparently small in stature, and hence, to distinguish him, either from some other James in the same circle, or from the various other Jameses in inter-related circles, he was often called “James the little” (see Mark 15:40). Mary, their mother, need not be confounded with the sister of our Lord’s mother, for it is probable that in John 19:25 four persons, not three, are referred to, and it is unlikely that our Lord’s mother and her sister would each be simply called Mary (Morison). She may have been identical with the wife of Clopas (possibly another form of Alphæus) mentioned in John 19:25 as standing near the cross with the mother of the Lord (Plumptre).
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— Matthew 27:45
“Articulo mortis.”—In the last passage we found ourselves in front of the cross of the Redeemer. In this, we are witnesses of His actual death—that most momentous of all mundane events. The chief characteristics of the passage are something like those of the passage before. There is profound obscurity, on the one hand; there is marvellous light, on the other.
I. Very great darkness.—Darkness, e.g., in the very atmosphere in which the portent occurred. A kind of pall hung over the whole of the “land” (Matthew 27:45). Darkness, again, with regard to the time—the exact time—of Christ’s death. When events are in progress of such a nature as to wholly absorb the attention and dominate the emotions of those who behold them, they lose their count of the hours. Either they are surprised to find it so late, or else they thought the time had long gone. It is possible also, that, in this case, the very atmospheric darkness just spoken of had made it impossible, by means of the then usual appliances, to determine the exact hour of the day. At any rate, it is as one not certain about it that the Evangelist speaks. He describes the time of death as being simply “about the ninth hour” (Matthew 27:46). Apparently both his ignorance and his accuracy will not let him say more. How much obscurity there is, once more, in the Redeemer’s first cry at that time. That cry itself seems to have left an eternal impression on many who heard it. Through them the very sounds of the language in which it was spoken—apparently a most unusual thing and connected always with occurrences in which life and death or something as wonderful were at issue (see Mark 5:41; Mark 7:34; Mark 7:37, etc.) have been bequeathed to the world (Matthew 27:46). Yet, for all that, and for all the translation here given of the words in question, how much there is in them that is dark! Why is that “Holy One” “forsaken” at all? Why forsaken of “God”? Most emphatic and most astounding is that “Me”! Scarcely less so that “Thou”! How far, also, does that “forsaking” extend? Why does not our Saviour now (cf. His language even a few hours before in the garden, ch. Matthew 26:39; Matthew 26:42; also John 17 passim), address God as His Father? Why does He, yet, so emphatically claim God as His own? (Matthew 27:46). Also, can we here be certain even as to the duration of this forsaking? Is it over now? Or still on? Does the Saviour ask “Why hast Thou,” or “Why didst Thou” forsake Me? Is He thus crying out as men do when they feel the utmost severity of a trial all but crushing them as it passes? Or, as men do when they look back on the immensity of what has passed over their heads? What, in fact, is being done—what, in fact, is being endured—to call forth this complaint, this solitary complaint (is it not so?), from that long-suffering Heart? The answer to these questions is not given us here. We can only ask them—afar—in wonder and grief. Finally, what marks of obscurity there are in the effect of this cry on those who stand by. Some mistake its very direction, and think it a call on “Elijah.” One who is near sees in it simply an expression of the intensest bodily pain, and “runs,” therefore, to do what he can in the way of instant assuagement (Matthew 27:48). In others it arouses little more than curious wonder and doubt. Can there be—is there—anything in that singular cry? We can but wait the result (Matthew 27:49). Thus they, at that time, understood little more than that they did not understand what they beheld. Thus we also, at this distance, so far in the story, not seeing much more!
II. Wonderful light.—Wonderful light, in the midst of this very darkness and doubt. We find this, on the one hand, in the second cry of the Saviour (Matthew 27:50). What a revelation of strength, and that in the very act of departure, there is in its character! “Jesus cries with a loud voice.” What a revelation of authority in its language! “Jesus dismisses” (so some) “His spirit” (cf. John 10:18; Hebrews 9:14). Not less light is there, on the other hand, in the replies to this cry. There is one such from the neighbouring temple of God (Matthew 27:51). The jealous privacy of long generations is suddenly gone. The heavy “veil” which for ages past had only just permitted the annual passage of the blood-besprinkled high priest to the glory beyond it, is a means of separation no longer. Like the body of Jesus, it is “rent in twain from the top to the bottom.” There is another reply from the rocks of the earth (ibid.). Their solid strength is torn asunder by the power of that Voice. A third reply comes next from the homes of the dead (Matthew 27:52). The graves are opened, and many bodies of the saints which are sleeping there arise, and come (afterwards) into the holy city, and appear unto many. A final and most explicit reply comes from the hearts of the living. Earlier in that day numberless voices had scouted the very idea of that crucified Man being God’s Son (Matthew 27:43). Later on it had almost seemed (Matthew 27:46, supra) as though He had begun to doubt it Himself. Now it is proclaimed virtually by the very voice which had commanded His death. Cæsar it was, in the person of Pilate, who had really ordered that death. Cæsar it is now, by Pilate’s deputy, who confesses this truth. “Truly this was the Son of God” (Matthew 27:54). Thus does Rome itself do homage to that dead “King of the Jews.”
Even this light, however, in one sense, only increases the darkness. If it be marvellous, as indeed it is, to see such innocence delivered to death, it is at least as marvellous to see such omnipotence (is this saying too much?) submitting thereto. What amazing majesty, what more than kingly authority, what superhuman power, have been nailed to that cross! Possibly there may have been some such thoughts in the minds of those faithful ones who are described here (Matthew 27:55) as having seen these things “afar off.” We who, in one sense but not in another, stand farther off still, cannot banish them from our minds. What commanding weakness; what awe-inspiring meekness; what dying energy, we see here! Who is this that, in submitting to death, overcomes it as well? Who is this that restores life to others by the act of “dismissing” His own? The Evangelist does not directly inform us how to answer these questions. He simply bids us behold—in this death of Jesus of Nazareth—at once the most significant and the most mysterious of all human events.
HOMILIES ON THE VERSES
Matthew 27:45. The cry from the depths.—I. We have to speak about the darkness.—Note:—
1. That it was a darkness which science is unable to explain.
2. The darkness was in keeping with the cry which at this time hung over the Redeemer’s spirit.—God was pleased to make Nature visibly sympathise with the passion of His Son.
3. Regard the darkness at the Crucifixion as a sign from God, intended not only to mark the importance of the event transpiring, but to work upon the consciences of the crucifiers before the deed was done.
II. We have now to speak about the cry.—
1. What was there in this cry different from any other dying cry?—We must take choice of two alternatives; one is that the cry came from a faintness of heart that was unworthy of a man, the other that it came from feeling a mystery of sin-bearing, unfathomable and Divine. That was the cup “tasted,” the cup for the passing away of which from Him, if it were possible, He prayed, and to the drinking of which, if the Will required it, He solemnly devoted Himself.
2. The cry had been foretold.—The exclamation, “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” is the first verse, and sounds the very key-note, of the 22nd Psalm. Regarding that psalm as a prophecy of Christ’s thoughts while on the cross, we may fairly regard this verse as indicating the thought that would then have first place and power in the great Atoner’s mind.
3. In this cry we have the perfect example of trust in trial.—C. Stanford, D.D.
Matthew 27:46. “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani!”—We have here:—
I. The most wonderful misconstruction put upon a cry of anguish.—“This man calleth for Elias.” No man has been doomed to have his acts, and even his very words, misinterpreted like Christ. Still, we find in their mistake a common fault on the part of the world. In the deepest longings and bitterest cries of your soul, they are always liable to misunderstand you. You are in bereavement, you feel lonely, and utter a wailing lament; and they say, “It is unbelief.” You are cast down by misfortune. Nothing that you have set your hand to has prospered. You have lost all, and you utter a cry of despair; and they say, “You are complaining against God.” You are cast down by doubts, feeling your way after truth, seeking to have a reason for the hope that is in you; and they say, “You are a sceptic,” etc. All this may be hard to bear. Remember David, Job, and Christ, “My God, My God,” etc.
II. A most inadequate relief offered to a spiritual want.—“And straightway one of them ran,” etc. If intended as an opiate, it could not touch the cause of His complaint, could not reach the seat of His suffering. Intentionally or not, it was an insult, a mockery, to offer it. This, however, is another, fault of the world. “If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone?” etc. No! Yet, when the mind-afflicted is hungering for rest, and the heart-wearied is thirsting for the Divine, the world has nothing better to offer. No narcotic can finally quiet a soul in search after God. All the opiates of earth cannot still its cry.
III. The most heartless indifference shown towards helpless suffering.—“The rest said, Let be,” etc.
1. They were heartless in their own inactivity.
2. They were heartless in their interference. They try to prevent this soldier from administering what would give Him relief.—T. Davis.
Matthew 27:50. Christ yielding up His spirit.—The loud cry of the dying Christ is worthy of record; for crucifixion ordinarily killed by exhaustion, and this cry was evidence of abundant remaining vitality. In accordance therewith, the fact of death is expressed by a phrase, which, though used for ordinary deaths, does yet naturally express the voluntariness of Christ. “He sent away His spirit”—as if He had bid it depart, and it obeyed. Whether the expression may be fairly pressed so far or no, the fact is the same, that Jesus died, not because He was crucified, but because He chose. He was the lord and master of death; and when He bade His armour-bearer strike, the slave struck, and the King died, not like Saul on the field of his defeat, but a victor in and by and over death.—A. Maclaren, D.D.
Matthew 27:51. The language of the signs.—
I. The earthquake.—This was:—
1. A sign wrought by the direct and unusual interposition of the Creator.
2. A sign to alarm men, on account of the capital crime which they had just committed.—To shake the hearts, to shake the conscience, to shake up men from the dull dream of a sense-bound existence, did God shake the earth, in the moment when man had just crucified His Son.
3. A sign by which God called attention to the Divine work, which, through the medium of the human work, had just been done.
4. A sign through which God caused the earth to pay royal honour to Jesus, when Jesus died.
5. The earthquake may furnish an illustration of the power that is to work wonders in connection with the cross of Christ.
II. The rent veil.—
1. The rending of the veil was, as it was intended to be, the sign which the Jews noticed first. To them, as Jews, the earthquake, in comparison, was a mere nothing; they forgot the earthquake when they thought of the veil.
2. A sign that the Jewish dispensation was now, by God’s own act, abolished.
3. A sign showing that now, by the death of Christ, there was a revelation of the mystery hid from ages.
4. A sign by which God declared that a free right of way into the Holiest was henceforth open to all.
III. The opening of the graves and the rising of the dead.—Who were these that were raised? What was it precisely that happened at the moment of the Lord’s death? It is vain to conjecture, but at least the miracle teaches how, by the work of Calvary, Christ has power and authority to reconquer from the grasp of death the life that He once created.
IV. The effect of these foregoing signs on the centurion and his companions.—The only man who dared to give Jesus His Divine title was one of the soldiers who were the first sinners for whom He had offered the prayer, “Father, forgive them,” etc.—C. Stanford, D.D.
Matthew 27:52. The resurrection of many bodies of the saints which slept.—The fact is expressive of:—
I. The supernaturalness of Christ’s death.—Untold millions of men have died. Thousands have died the death of crucifixion, and tens of thousands of noble and Godlike men have died as martyrs for the truth. But there is not a single death found in all history attended by such marvels as those connected with the death of Christ. No wonder that the centurion and those that stood watching with him exclaimed, “Truly this was the Son of God.” His death had a power over the graves of the departed. It also penetrated Hades. The goodly army of the patriarchs that saw His day in the distance and rejoiced, the illustrious line of the prophets who pointed Him out to their contemporaries, and the holy priests who typified Him in their sacerdotal functions, would all in the spirit world feel the moral vibrations of His cross. But this opening of the graves and attracting the spirits of the holy dead is but a single specimen of the supernatural power of His death. The moral wonders it has wrought are far greater than the material ones which attended His crucifixion.
II. The conditions of the holy dead.—
1. Rest. “Slept.” No terror in sleep. Nothing injurious in sleep. No permanency in sleep.
2. Deep interest in Christ.
3. Not permanent.—There was an alteration now in their condition. A resurrection day to come.
III. The secrecy of the heavenly world.—The fact that we have no record of any communications made by those saints that arose and went to Jerusalem concerning the celestial world in which they had been living, is very remarkable. This strange omission suggests the fact that the particulars of heaven are to be kept secret from men on earth. This truth is supported by the fact that other tenants of the celestial world who have visited this earth have maintained the same silence. Why this secrecy about heaven? Two reasons may be suggested:—
1. Impossibility.—Heaven, both as a place and a feeling, may be altogether so different to men’s experiences of places and emotions on earth, that for the want of comparison human language would be utterly incompetent to convey any information.
2. Impropriety.—A graphic representation of the minute details of heaven to men on earth would not only have been an inconvenience, but an injury. Heaven has in mercy concealed from us all the coming periods of our life, that we may, by attending rightly to the present, be prepared for all the future.—D. Thomas, D.D.
Matthew 27:52. Effects of the atoning death of Jesus.—
I. Upon the realm of the dead; beginning of the resurrection.
II. Upon the Gentile world; beginning of confessions (Matthew 27:54).
III. Upon the world of the oppressed classes, viz., of women. Free communion with Christ in spirit, suffering, and victory.—J. P. Lange, D.D.
Matthew 27:56. Mary of Magdala.—She was:—
I. A great sufferer healed by Christ (Luke 8:2).
II. A grateful ministrant to Christ (Luke 8:2; Mark 15:41).
III. A faithful adherent to Christ (Mark 15:40; John 19:25).
IV. A sincere mourner for Christ (cf. Matthew 27:61; Mark 15:47; John 20:1; John 20:11).
V. An honoured messenger of Christ (John 20:17; Mark 16:10).—T. S. Dickson, M.A.