SECTION IV

Jesus in Gethsemane in the presence of his enemies. the traitor. the voluntary surrender of Jesus to be made prisoner. the confidence of the disciples, and their flight

(Mat 26:47-56. Mar 14:43-52. Luk 22:39-46. Joh 18:1-13)

Hardly had the Lord awakened His disciples for the last time, and announced to them that the traitor was at hand, before the traitor himself appeared in that sacred place. ‘Lo, Judas, one of the twelve, came,’ says Matthew, in that form of expression in which the Evangelists are accustomed to relate the most extraordinary event. He came, and with him a great multitude, armed with swords and staves, sent by the Sanhedrim, the high priests, and elders of the people.

John describes this appearance somewhat circumstantially. Judas also, he observes, which betrayed Him, knew the place; for Jesus ofttimes resorted thither with His disciples. This remark hints at the way in which Judas had employed his time after his departure from the company of the disciples. While Jesus completed the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, took leave of His disciples, commended them to His Father in prayer, and wrestled with death in Gethsemane, he pursued, under the shelter of night, the black work of treachery. He hurried to the chiefs of the Sanhedrim, and told them that the suitable moment had now arrived. His vehemence inflamed the calculating wickedness of the crafty old men; they agreed to his proposition. But some time necessarily elapsed before they had become of one mind-before they had raised the temple—watch¹—before they had obtained from the Roman governor his assent to their proposed arrest, and the requisite escort for their expedition. Judas had counted on this loss of time. And he thus came to the conclusion, that after the end of this time Jesus would be found in Gethsemane. It appears, moreover, from all the narratives, that the preparation which, in union with Judas, the high priests made, was considerable, not to say exaggerated. According to John, Judas brought with him the Roman cohort (σπεῖρα). Although this cannot be understood in its literal meaning, since usually only one Roman cohort lay in the castle of Antonia,² and such an one consisted of five hundred men; yet it must still be supposed that the troops of the Roman garrison that were disposable on the moment were employed in a body for this service-a portion of the cohort which might sufficiently represent it. Probably John, in his expression, ‘Judas took the cohort,’ means to convey, that it was he who induced the high priests to apply for so unlimited a defensive force. This is what we might also gather from Mark’s account, according to which Judas recommended to his companions to take away the prisoner very carefully after they had taken Him (ἀπάγετε ἀσφαλῶς) . As well the former crafty calculation as the present exceeding carefulness, gives us a glimpse into the demoniacal agitation of the traitor. In the very midst of his treason to Jesus, he was aware that he had to do with a powerful being.³ Moreover, it is easily understood that the Jewish rulers must have found it entirely to their interest to ask for a strong military force. The higher in this respect they pressed their claims on Pilate, and gave them force with the representation that they were engaged in the taking prisoner of a very dangerous man, the more would Jesus be rendered an object of suspicion beforehand with the Roman authority, before which they must still bring Him, if they wished to accomplish His death. Neither, perhaps, were they wholly without anxiety lest the followers of Jesus should make an attempt to rescue Him. This excessive carefulness is evident from the fact, that the expedition was provided with torches and lamps. But for what purpose, then, were these lights, in a night lighted up by a full moon? They furnish a clear testimony to the historical character of the fact, showing, as they do, how accurately these bailiffs were acquainted with the rocky valley of the Kidron. There fell there great deep shadows from the declivity of the mountain and projecting rocks; there were there caverns and grottoes,⁴ into which a fugitive might retreat; finally, there was probably a garden-house or towers, in whose gloom it might be necessary for a searcher to throw light around. Nevertheless, this precaution also, as well as the one formerly mentioned, is declared by its result to be entirely fruitless; and its pompousness would be laughable, if it had not arisen from a great and evil designedness. This premeditated purpose the Lord saw through at once. They sought, by the greatness of the parade, to render Him suspicious, and to destroy Him beforehand.

A similar exaggeration of caution is evident in the agreement which Judas made with the armed men—that he would point out the man for whom they were seeking by a kiss. It would appear that he might have accomplished his treachery quite simply; but this is only an appearance. The same spirit of mental confusion which made him a traitor, led him likewise to this devilish refinement—to this unheard-of combination of the disciple’s kiss with the traitor’s sign, which has no parallel in the world’s history—to this highest, most pointed expression of the diabolical declension from God and Christ, in which the most cunning wit degenerates into the most brutal stupidity, and in which, so far, the serpent’s bite finds its most accurate human copy. No, assuredly the Church could never have invented the kiss of Judas—no evangelistic mind could have fabricated it; only he who gave it could have thought upon it.

Thus the company which approached towards Jesus was prepared in every way in the character of diabolical exaggeration. And if, on the one hand, the temple-watch and the Roman soldiers gave a legal air to the expedition, this was not in the least degree qualified by the addition to them of the germs of the popular tumult which was subsequently excited against Jesus—individual fanatics, as may be gathered from the characterization of the crowd as a multitude of people,⁵ as well as from the circumstance that many were armed with staves or clubs.

In the most definite manner Mark tells us that Judas suddenly appeared in the background of the garden, in which Jesus had just brought to themselves the three disciples who had been overwhelmed with sleep. In affected haste he hurried to the Lord with the words, ‘Hail, Rabbi!’ which, according to Mark, he uttered with apparent affection, naming Him Rabbi, Rabbi, and immediately attempted to give to Him the traitor’s kiss. Luke appears to intimate that this kiss did not entirely reach Jesus (Luk 22:47).⁶ And this is explained by the situation. Jesus anticipated those who were hastening towards Him, by offering Himself, of His own accord, to meet the crowd (according to John) with the clear foresight of what was before Him. Thus the two must meet one another; and as Judas sought to lay hold of the Lord in order to kiss Him, He cast to him the reproachful word, ‘Friend, wherefore art thou come? Dost thou wish to betray the Son of man with a kiss?’ We can only regard the meeting as a passing moment, in which the Lord, stepping back and rebuking the traitor, unmasked, and, so to speak, shook him off in order to hasten forward; for, according to John, He must have met the crowd as they were entering into the garden (ἐξελθὼν). We may conceive, perhaps, from John’s account, wherefore He hastened thus. In the foreground of the garden the rest of the disciples waited for Him; and He wished just as little to expose them as the three, to the attack of the enemies, but to take up such a position as fitly secured them. Thus it is explained from the simplest combination of the several Evangelists in the lively representation of the moment, that the kiss of Judas became, in its result, an altogether needless devilish farce; that its purpose was frustrated partially by the eagerness of the traitor himself, partially by the quick resolution with which Jesus pushed him on one side, in order to cover and to save His company by offering Himself to the enemies almost at the entrance of the garden.

John holds this view à priori of the faithfulness of Jesus to deliver His disciples so strongly, that He is able to omit the kiss of Judas as a disturbing interpolation. Even the question, Whom seek ye? with which Jesus met the watch, had the purpose of placing the disciples in security, compelling His pursuers thoroughly to understand that their instruction was limited only to taking Him prisoner. And this object He perfectly attained.⁷ They answered Jesus of Nazareth. Thus they substantially renounced all rightful claim to the taking prisoners the disciples. ‘I am He,’ answered the Lord. This word, spoken in the calmness of His spiritual majesty, made immediately a startling impression upon the crowd. At this moment Judas was already back among the people. He must have hastened back quickly upon the sharp rebuke of Christ. Probably by this hasty retreat also he threw the first element of sympathetic terror into the mass, which now fully developed itself at the saying of Christ. At the word, I am He, they went backward and fell to the ground! The night, the locality, and the throng, favoured the impression which the firm appearance of Christ made on those beating hearts, among whom the Jews were trembling at the possibility that they might have to do with a great prophet, while the heathens must be awed with the thought that perhaps a son of the gods was before them. Who could have inquired, in the spectacle of that wavering, stumbling, and thronging coil of men, whether the mass, man for man, fell down to the ground? Nay, it is to be gathered plainly, that in so dense a crowd there must have been some who could not have fallen to the ground at all. But all the more for that reason the view became prominent, for which John alone is responsible, that the crowd as a crowd was stricken, was weakened, and recoiling, fell down headlong.⁸

The effects of sympathetic fear are entirely incalculable, just as are the effects of sympathetic desire or enthusiasm.⁹ Moreover, they are enhanced in proportion as the feeling of slavish awe, of piety, of conscientious reverence, is increased in the terrified person towards the object which fills him with terror. Thus great men even have often infused fear, in the most helpless circumstances, into those who wished to attack them, merely by the fact of accosting them calmly. One of the best known examples is that of Marius, who placed the soldier who sought to kill him in fear and confusion.¹⁰ But in a special manner always might those who have the consciousness of a bad cause be unexpectedly overcome by the giant of terror, even although a visible judge of their daring does not stand before them, to say nothing of the very person whom they are about to outrage seeming to meet them as an avenger. But the present moment in this respect stands alone in the world’s history. The involuntary performers of the vilest office, with the dark consciousness of that wickedness which is making them its tools, deep in the night, deep in the shadows of the rocky valley of Kidron, find themselves suddenly confronted with the man whose name has long had for them a mysterious significance, in whom some among them reverence the greatest performer of miracles. Moreover, at the moment when Jesus spontaneously met them, they must have thoroughly felt the terrible spiritual power of His majesty,—the more terrible the less able they are to explain to themselves this impression.

It might have happened to them that Christ should have produced this effect of astonishment in them without purposing it, merely by meeting them. But certainly He was designedly conscious of this influence. He wished and needed by this act not only to prove His innocence in His glory in the face of His enemies, but also to make known the freedom with which He surrendered Himself to the representatives of the Old Testament law, and still more to the decree of the Father. Besides, this manifestation served to further the security of the disciples, which He had in view. If it be now debated whether the effect produced by Christ was a miracle or a natural but extraordinary occurrence, this question commonly proceeds upon a false estimation of the miraculous in the life of Jesus on the one hand, and of the natural on the other. As the customary wonders of Jesus are brought about by spontaneous faith, this is brought about by the compulsory faith or partial superstition of those who were opposed to Him. It is very natural that these men must fall tremblingly to the ground at the word of His heavenly dignity and power. But none the less is it a miracle, that He thus casts them down with a flash of His word. Thus His word had often before filled His adversaries with paralyzing fear, in moments in which they sought to take Him.¹¹ In this last case, however, He produced a most powerful effect on His opponents, the impression which He made upon them announced in His personality the future Judge of the world.

This wondrous influence of Christ upon His enemies, moreover, is especially calculated to throw light upon the picture which the world continually represents of Him to itself, and most of all when it persecutes Him. It is the curse of its unbelief that it is compelled always thus to look upon Him with slavish superstition, in dark, threatening, gigantic form, in the character of an avenger threatening destruction. The persecutors here appear to us in this delusion. To them Christ is a gloomy form of terror. They think that He comes for destruction upon them. In His word, ‘I am He,’ they fancy they already perceive the terror of the last judgment. Still Jesus appears with His second question, ‘Whom seek ye?’ to call forth an opposite and consoling result. They gather themselves together, and answered as above. But He now brings out the purpose of His conversation with them in a marked manner. ‘I have told you that I am He. If ye then seek Me, let these go their way.’

John felt thoroughly how faithfully He had thus taken His disciples into His protection. He says that this happened that so the word of Jesus which He had spoken (in the high-priestly prayer, might be fulfilled: ‘Of those whom Thou hast given Me have I lost none.’ The Evangelist, in looking back upon the circumstance, knew best how closely in this case were linked together the external and the spiritual deliverance of the disciples, how much the latter was conditioned on the former; or, in other words, how little capable the disciples were at that time to go with Jesus to death. Thus he knew also that the delivering faithfulness of Jesus to His people had in this moment crowned His work; that thus also that word of Jesus, that He has kept His own, found here its last fulfilment and confirmation.¹²

When, after the last word of Jesus, the watch again pressed forward to take Him prisoner, the disciples saw at length what was intended (ἰδόντες τὸ ἐσόμενον, Luke 49), and Peter stepped forward with the question, ‘Lord, shall we smite with the sword?’ The reproaches of the Lord about his sleepiness still pressed heavily upon his heart; the word of Jesus, ‘Let these go their way,’ might likewise wound and excite him. Finally, moreover, he saw how preparation was being made to bind his Master. Without waiting for the reply of Jesus, he drew his sword and struck among the crowd. From the circumstance of his striking the high priest’s servant, by name Malchus, we may conclude that the said Malchus was among the foermost; and this, perhaps, suggests a proof that the high priest had stirred up his people to the utmost against Jesus. The mischievous blow of the disciple, however, had only struck the right ear of Malchus. Of what nature the wound was, it is difficult to decide. The Evangelists all agree that he cut off his ear. Luke relates besides,¹³ that Jesus, with the words, ‘Suffer ye thus far,’ which probably must have been addressed to the watch, who were just on the point of taking Him into custody,¹⁴ touched the ear of the wounded man and healed it again. Thence, probably, it results that the ear was not wholly cut off. It is sufficient if it would have been lost for the wounded man, unless Jesus had saved it for him. Hereupon He turned to Peter with the commanding word, ‘Put up thy sword into the sheath: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Or thinkest thou perchance that I cannot now (even still and now) pray to the Father for help, and He would give Me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then should the Scripture be fulfilled? Thus must it be.’ According to John, He uttered the last thought more fully: ‘The cup which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?’

Peter had shown with his first blow that he was no warrior; fortunately he had made a false cut. But it is very significant that he struck exactly the ear of Malchus. It has always been the ear, the spiritual hearing, the ready receptiveness, of which the secularized servants of Christ deprived their adversaries, when they have had recourse to the sword of force. Equally significant is it that Christ asks for Himself one more moment of freedom from the enemies, in order that He may do themselves good. Thus He always continues to interpose with dignified and divine serenity between prejudiced enemies and prejudiced friends. He alone remedies the faults of His people against the enemies; He reestablishes the susceptibility of the better ones among His antagonists, much injured as it has been by His followers, in consequence of immature fanatical proceedings. But He teaches His friends to renounce every appeal to force in the concerns of His kingdom. Those who take the sword perish with the sword. This is not only true of rebels, but especially also of fanatical champions of the interests of Christ’s kingdom; yea, it is a canon which, finally, is true in the most general sense for all human warfare. It might also be said that this is a maxim of all spheres of right, of ecclesiastical right as of political right, of private right as of the right of war, only that the maxim is everywhere modified, and that everywhere it is only to be applied to a wilful seizing of the sword of violence. But for the Church there is in this word a solemn warning and threatening,—especially for that Church which calls itself by the name of Peter. The Lord not only rejects the help of the sword in His cause, because it is opposed to the spirit of His kingdom, but also because in its own nature it is completely doubtful. The sword of force calls forth the sword of force; and thence arises an earthly secular struggle, in which the risk of the result may waver between one side and the other. But it is otherwise with the superiority of which Jesus is assured.

Even in the present difficult situation He knows thoroughly that He could discover the mightiest supremacy against the enemies, if it were consistent now to break off the œconomy of patience, of grace, and of mercy, and to reckon with the hostile world in judgment. Then He might quickly call forth a great change. He might ask for Himself the highest miraculous help from the Father; He might in a moment obtain the richest development of the might of His heavenly kingdom against the evil. Instead of poor confused disciples, He might oppose to the enemies angels of heaven; instead of the little company of the twelve, of whom one was already fallen away, twelve complete legions.¹⁵ But no, the Scriptures must be fulfilled before all things, even the scriptures of His passion,—the Scriptures of the covenant of grace, and of the victory of the great Divine Sufferer over the world.

This is, moreover, true also of every moment of the New Testament era. If it should be God’s will that at any time the œconomy of grace, which operates through the holy cross, should be discontinued, the infinite supremacy of heavenly powers over the force of the enemy upon earth would in that moment be called forth and appear. But even so men would break off the work of salvation before its completion. And this is not to be so; and because it must not be so, it cannot be so. And if men wished it, they would thus tempt God, and summon up powers against the darkness, of which it would always become evident that they would not be angels of light from heaven, but disguised powers of darkness, which could only accomplish a deceiving show of struggle with the manifest powers of darkness. But over them the redeeming war which Christ carries on is infinitely exalted. Yea, in order to prosecute this strife, even the pure angels in heaven are not sufficient for Him,—still less the sinful disciples; only His holy cross is sufficient for that.

After this admonition of Jesus to His disciples, the adversaries surrounded Him, the watch with their captain and the Jewish servants. The hands which only a moment before had healed a sufferer in their midst, were bound as the hands of a criminal.

Still He had never more fully maintained His liberty than at the very moment when He was imprisoned and bound. He made one solemn protestation against the treatment which He must suffer. The conversation between Him and His guards had probably now lasted a long time. Thereupon some vehement members of the Sanhedrim, who were extraordinarily eager for the conclusion of the matter, might have easily lost patience and have sneaked after the guards, so as to appear just after the moment of the capture. Luke suggests this. There came now some dignified priestly persons into sight, officers of the temple, and elders.¹⁶ To these Jesus addressed the rebuking word: ‘Be ye come out, as against a thief, with swords and with staves to take Me? I was daily with you in the temple teaching, and ye laid no hands upon Me to take Me prisoner. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness.’

First of all He accuses their false and cowardly procedure, in which lies the proof of their evil doing, and of their evil consciousness. Partly, He seems to them as a criminal, because they in their mental obliquity must fear Him; partly they give themselves the air of thinking Him so, because they wanted to blacken Him beforehand by their parade of taking Him. Then He proves to them the clearness and the power of His innocence. He could appear daily in the temple; He could peacefully sit down there in the midst of their sanctuary; in the very heart of their power could there freely propound His doctrines to all people, and they never ventured to lay hand on Him, although they would willingly have done so often. Then He shows to them that it is they themselves who come out and behave in the way of criminals, under the shelter of night, in their alliance with the works of darkness. He appeared in their presence in the bright daylight, in the temple, as the prophet of God. They approached Him under the curtain of night, in deep secrecy, as the tools of the kingdom of darkness.

The last word is so great and important a saying, that in all probability it was expressed in this form out of the mouth of the Lord. It declares in a more concrete form the same thoughts which Matthew, and partially Mark, also record in a more usual manner. All this was done that the Scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled. The last words probably Jesus added, in order to explain the more mysterious expression.

Thus also Jesus expresses the perfect clearness and composure with which He finds Himself in this situation. This is your hour. They have power over Him now. But this hour is the hour of darkness. Satan has power over them. But this power which Satan has over them, and through them over Him, he has only because it is given him by God, who, according to the old Scriptures, had decreed that Christ must once be reckoned among malefactors. And it is this power of God to which He surrenders Himself with free resignation, in submitting to their supremacy, which is only the power of one hour, and only a power of appearance appointed for that very purpose to condemn themselves.

With the last word of Jesus, the disciples knew with certainty that He would make no resistance to His being taken prisoner. Therewith crumbled the last strength of their hope of an earthly temporal kingdom of the Messiah. They felt it deeply as it crumbled; and the power of darkness which Jesus had named by name, asserted itself in their conduct, although the protecting word of Jesus had placed them in a position to withdraw peacefully in a united group. There came over them, nevertheless, an excitement of terror, as though they themselves were to be taken prisoners. They dispersed; they fled. Even although, in the literal meaning, it was not all of them that hastened from Him, yet subsequently they had a guilty consciousness when they looked back to this moment. They had not spiritually stood their ground.

It is deeply worthy of notice, that in those hours in which the officially called disciples for the most part so miserably withdrew from the Lord, other hidden disciples came forth more decidedly than heretofore as His—pious young men, faithful women, dignified Jewish councillors, as Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. Therein is manifested a special characteristic of the immortality of the Church of Christ—the fact that evermore, as if out of the invisible, appear on the scene new disciples of Christ, when the old ones have retired, or appear to have done so. That young man of whom Mark speaks, gives us the first passing but very remarkable prelude of that fact. A certain young man, it is said, followed Him, having a linen cloth thrown around his naked body.¹⁷ In that was revealed the fruit of an enthusiastic reverence for the Lord. The young man must have belonged to the dependants of Jesus.¹⁸ He must have been asleep near the place where the capture occurred, and have been startled by the noise at night from his couch.¹⁹ But as soon as he perceived that Jesus was being led away prisoner, he takes the boldest resolution without any calculation. Only loosely covered with a nightly garment, not dressed, he will follow Jesus into the city—rushing, as it appears, among the men, and into the bright light. Thus, again, there occurs to us here, in a mere isolated fact, a mere isolated symbol—to wit, the most lively image of those enthusiastic first beginnings of Christian excitement, in which the proud vibrations of youthful blood are mingled with the emotions of the spirit, as they sometimes cast themselves in the arena of battle, without becoming attire and inward preparation, and therewith afford to the adversaries of Christianity a shameful sport. Thus it happened here. The enthusiastic young man was seized by the young men, say several manuscripts, whereby, perhaps, the juvenile element in the whole character of this episode is slightly referred to; but he left his upper garment in the hands of the bailiffs, who would probably terrify him, and took to flight.

In this hour of darkness only one could stand victoriously against its power.

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Notes

1. It is entirely in accordance with the subjective truth of the Gospels, the Christian individuality of the view of the Evangelists, that not only in the history of the passion, but also in the history of the resurrection, the differences between the individual accounts appear more strongly. In both cases there is evident the agitation under which these individual occurrences of the Evangelists have severally formed and fixed themselves: in the narratives of the passion of Jesus, the tempest of distress; in the narratives of the manifestations of the risen Lord, the tempest of joy.

2. The question how the account of John, according to which Jesus made Himself known to the officers, is to be harmonized with that of the Synoptists, according to which He was pointed out to them by the kiss of Judas, has been sufficiently answered by Lücke, ii. 599; Hase, 135; Olshausen, iv. 179, by saying that the kiss of Judas occurred first of all; then that the Lord met the officers, in order to make Himself known to them. Strauss, on the other hand, observes: ‘But if Judas had already pointed Him out with a kiss, and He had so well understood the purpose of the kiss, &c., He needed not especially to make Himself known, since He was already made known. To do it for the sake of protecting the disciples was just as superfluous, since He must observe in the traitorous kiss that it was designed to take Him away from His followers. He did it merely to show His courage—thus this was almost theatrical; but generally, that between the kiss of Judas and the intrusion of the crowd, which certainly followed immediately thereupon, Jesus should have met them with questions and addresses, manifests in His demeanour a hurry and precipitancy, which under these circumstances so ill becomes Him, that the Evangelists scarcely desire to attribute such a proceeding to Him.’ It is strange that the critic has wholly overlooked in the figure of Judas the theatrical conduct,—the hurry and precipitancy which might so easily explain to him the supposed contradiction,—in order to find it in the appearance of Jesus as John depicts it.

3. ‘It has been sought in many ways to explain why the Synoptists do not name Peter. That they did not wish to compromise the apostle, who was still living at the time of the writing of their Gospels, by naming his name, belongs to the rightly unrecognized fictions of a falsely pragmatical exegesis’ (Strauss, ii. 460). With what justice is this supposition to be exploded? This hypothesis must indeed be reformed, as well as the altogether kindred one concerning the silence about the raising of Lazarus in the Synoptists; and indeed, by the remembrance that the oral Gospel tradition, which was formed immediately after Pentecost, was always compelled to deal with facts such as those referred to with caution; and that omissions in this way became established, which subsequently became the guides of the Evangelists in the writing of their books. (See vol. ii. 496.)

1) Vide Luke xxii. 52. 'There were Levitical temple-watches, and a captain of them, στρατηγός, &c., but hardly several στρατηγοί.’—De Wette, zu Luk. 105. The circumstance of Luke s speaking, Acts iv. 1, of the στρατηγὸς τοῦ ἱεροῦ in the singular number, gives us to suppose that he probably knew why he used the plural in the Gospel, doubtless to indicate subordinate officers of the temple-watch in union with their chief.

2) See Friedlieb, 67.

3) It has been supposed that he spoke the words, 'Lead Him away carefully,' to the armed men ironically, foreseeing that they certainly would fail to do so. But this supposition is of a piece with the unfounded hypothesis, that Judas, by his treason, only wished to compel the Lord to appear with His power. It might in deed be possible, that even this possibility might have been an element in his temptation, and have formed the grounds of his self-excusing and self-confusion. And so far an ironical impulse may have flashed through that warning word of his.

4) One might easily find a certain relation between these torches and lamps, and the tradition according to which Jesus is said to have undergone His struggle of soul in a grotto.

5) Respecting the ὄχλος, Hug observes with reason (ii. 152), 'We are not to be surprised at the appellation, a multitude, or at its equipment. The case is entirely historical. No armed body of men was granted to the high priests and the Sanhedrim, as, for example, there was to Herod and Philip. They had only servants, ὑπηρέτας, for the maintenance of the temple police, and similar purposes.'

6) Also the choice of the expression καταφιλεῖν in the other Evangelists is probably, in any case, qualified to intimate the surprising by a kiss which occurred in this place. [There seems ground for supposing that the compound is used to signify a more tender kiss than is denoted by the simple word. See Meyer and Ellicott. Alford, however, says it is only another word for ἐφίλησεν, and not to be pressed.'—ED .]

7) Hug supposes (ii. 153) that Jesus wished to compel the temple captains to name His name (by the question, Whom seek ye ?), that so He might be known to the servants who attended them as blind instruments, because usually an anonymous person brought in in the night might easily be put on one side and disappear without trace.

8) When Neander thus regards the matter that a part of the troops have amazedly cast themselves down upon the ground, the original representation is not, perhaps, maintained in its integrity.

9) We refer here to the great theatre of such sympathies which the Catholic middle ages offer, as it is enlivened by the crusaders, the pilgrims, boy-processions, flagellators, dancers, and such like.

10) Other examples are given in Tholuck upon John, 380. Although the last, concerning Coligny, is laid claim to by Strauss (ii. 458), nothing is thereby determined against the whole family of such facts.

11) Vide Luke iv. 30 ; John vii. 44, viii. 59, x. 39 ; Matt. xxi. 46

12) Schweizer finds an interpolation here, Das. Evang. John, s. 63. Compare, on the other hand, vol. i. p. 170-1.

13) Upon the relation of this passage to the fact that Luke was a physician, see above, vol. i. p. 212.

14) According to others, these words were addressed to the disciples in the sense, Let that be sufficient ; or, So far and no further! Against this view is the fact that, after the healing, Jesus admonishes the disciple. In the first place, the healing itself was reproof enough. In this case, however, Christ must ask for a delay from the enemies, since He had already surrendered Himself to them.

15) The Roman legions consisted in early days of 3200 men, but they were increased until at length they were 6200 men strong.

16) See Ebrard,.419.

17) The nightly vesture in which alone the Orientals are accustomed to sleep.—Friedlieb, 70.

18) We have above (vol. i. p. 203) given the reasons why we suppose with some that this young man was John Mark.

19) We might surely make a guess at the estate in Gethsemane itself, if we might express a conjecture as to the house in which the young man slept; and might connect with that, that the mother of Mark appears to have been a woman of respectable possessions; but we can only conjecture.