These verses relate a remarkable and deeply instructive event: the apostle Peter’s denial of Christ. It is one of those events which indirectly prove the truth of the Bible. If the Gospel had been a mere invention of man, we should never have been told that one of its principal preachers was once so weak and erring as to deny his Master.

The first thing that demands our notice is the full nature of the sin of which Peter was guilty.

We read, in these verses, how our Lord Jesus Christ was brought before Caiaphas, the high priest, and solemnly pronounced guilty. It was fitting that it should be so. The great day of atonement was come: the wondrous type of the scapegoat was about to be completely fulfilled. It was only suitable that the Jewish high priest should do his part, and declare sin to be upon the head of the victim, before He was led forth to be crucified. (Lev. 16:21) May we ponder these things and understand them. There was a deep meaning in every step of our Lord’s passion.

Let us observe in these verses that the chief priests were the principal agents in bringing about our Lord’s death. It was not so much the Jewish people, we must remember, who pushed forward this wicked deed, as Caiaphas and his companions, the chief priests.

We see in these verses the cup of our Lord Jesus Christ’s sufferings beginning to be filled. We see Him betrayed by one of His disciples, forsaken by the rest, and taken prisoner by His deadly enemies. Never surely was there sorrow like His sorrow. Never may we forget, as we read this part of the Bible, that our sins were the cause of these sorrows! Jesus was “delivered for our offences”. (Rom. 4:25)

Let us notice for one thing, in these verses, what gracious condescension marked our Lord’s intercourse with His disciples.

The verses we have now read describe what is commonly called Christ’s agony at Gethsemane. It is a passage which undoubtedly contains deep and mysterious things. We ought to read it with reverence and wonder, for there is much in it which we cannot fully comprehend.

Why do we find our Lord so “sorrowful and very heavy,” as He is here described? What are we to make of His words, “My soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death.” Why do we see Him going apart from His disciples, and falling on His face, and crying to His Father with strong cries, and thrice repeated prayer? Why is the almighty Son of God, who had worked so many miracles, so heavy and disquieted? Why is Jesus, who came into the world to die, so like one ready to faint at the approach of death? Why is all this?

These verses describe the appointment of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. Our Lord knew well the things that were before Him, and graciously chose the last quiet evening that He could have before His crucifixion as an occasion for bestowing a parting gift on His church. How precious must this ordinance have afterwards appeared to His disciples when they remembered the events of the night! How mournful is the thought that no ordinance has led to such fierce controversy, and been so grievously misunderstood, as the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper! It ought to have united the church, but our sins have made it a cause of division. The thing which should have been for our welfare has been too often made an occasion of falling.

The first thing that demands our notice in these verses, is the right meaning of our Lord’s words, “This is my body, this is my blood.”

We read, in the beginning of this passage, how our Lord Jesus Christ was betrayed into the hands of His deadly enemies. The priests and scribes, however anxious to put Him to death, were at a loss how to effect their purpose, for fear of an uproar among the people: at this juncture a fitting instrument for carrying out their designs offered himself to them in the person of Judas Iscariot. That false Apostle undertook to deliver his Master into their hands for thirty pieces of silver.

There are few blacker pages in all history than the character and conduct of Judas Iscariot: there is no more awful evidence of the wickedness of man. A poet of our own has said that “sharper than a serpent’s tooth is a thankless child”; but what shall we say of a disciple who would betray his own Master: an apostle who could sell Christ? Surely this was not the least bitter part of the cup of suffering which our Lord drank.

We now approach the closing scene of our Lord Jesus Christ’s earthly ministry. Hitherto we have read of His sayings and doings: we are now about to read of His sufferings and death. Hitherto we have seen Him as the Great Prophet; we are now about to see Him as the great High Priest.

It is a portion of Scripture which ought to be read with peculiar reverence and attention. The place we on we stand is holy ground. Here we see how the seed of the woman bruised the serpent’s head; here we see the great sacrifice to which all the sacrifices of the Old Testament had long pointed; here we see how the blood was shed which “cleanse us from all unrighteousness,” and the Lamb slain who “taketh away the sin of the world.” (1 John 1:9; John 1:29) We see in the death of Christ the great mystery revealed, how God can be just, and yet justify the ungodly. No wonder that all the four Gospels contain a full account of this wonderful event: on other points in our Lord’s history, we often find that when one evangelist speaks the other three are silent; but when we come to the crucifixion, we find it minutely described by all four.