imself and His disciples, left the
city, crossed the Kidron, and entered the Garden of Gethsemane, where He
frequently went for quiet and to pass the night. The time He had spent
in encouraging His disciples and praying for them Judas had spent in
making preparations for His arrest. In order to impress Pilate with the
dangerous nature of this Galilean he asks him for the use of the Roman
cohort to effect His capture. It was possible His arrest might occasion
a tumult and rouse the people to attempt a rescue. Perhaps Judas also
had an alarming remembrance of the miraculous power he had seen Jesus
put forth, and was afraid to attempt His apprehension with only the
understrappers of the Sanhedrim or the Temple guard; so he takes the
Roman cohort of five hundred men, or whatever number he would reckon
would be more than a match for a miracle. And though the moon was full,
he takes the precaution of furnishing the expedition with lanterns and
torches, for he knew that down in that deep Kidron gully it was often
dark when there was plenty of light above; and might not Jesus hide
Himself in some of the shadows, in some thicket or cavern, or in some
garden-shed or tower? He could not have made more elaborate
preparations had he been wishing to take a thief or to surprise a
dangerous chief of banditti in his stronghold.

The futility of such preparations became at once apparent. So far from
trying to hide Himself or slip out by the back of the garden, Jesus no
sooner sees the armed men than He steps to the front and asks, "Whom
seek ye?" Jesus, in order that He might screen His disciples, wished at
once to be identified by His captors themselves as the sole object of
their search. By declaring that they sought Jesus of Nazareth, they
virtually exempted the rest from apprehension. But when Jesus identified
Himself as the person they sought, instead of rushing forward and
holding Him fast, as Judas had instructed them, those in front shrank
back; they felt that they had no weapons that would not break upon the
calmness of that spiritual majesty; they went backward and fell to the
ground. This was no idle display; it was not a needless theatrical
garnishing of the scene for the sake of effect. If we could imagine the
Divine nobility of Christ's appearance at that critical moment when He
finally proclaimed His work done and gave Himself up to die, we should
all of us sink humbled and overcome before Him. Even in the dim and
flickeri