How Heaven Was Opened

When the Last Supper was over, Jesus led the Eleven out across the little brook Cedron, of whose waters He stooped and drank, into the Garden of Olives. The pale moonlight rested on the fields and hillsides, but underneath the leafy olive trees, the shadows lay gloomy and black. The Apostles were sleepy and Jesus told them to lie down whilst He went deeper into the garden to pray. How could they sleep when they saw how heavy His heart was and when they had heard Him say that He would be betrayed? But they seldom understood His words.

Oh, how Jesus prayed and suffered that night! He would soon be dead and He knew it. It was for this He had been born and lived for thirty-three years. He had left Heaven and come into the world that He might die for us, and by dying, open Heaven and save us from hell. He had offered His Father to suffer for all our sins, so that we might go free. Never can anyone love us as Jesus does!

And as He prayed He saw coming towards Him a mighty ocean of sins. It was made up of every sin that had ever been committed and that ever would be committed. Every country, every city, every village, every house, every man, woman, and child, poured a stream of sin into that sea. The roar of its billows—all the swearing and cursing and bad words of the world—was in His ears. The smell of its waters filled with lies and thefts and murders and disobediences and every filthy sin, was in His nostrils.

Closer and closer it rolled. Its waves rose like mountains in the air and threatened His very life. Jesus was alone against that raging flood. Would no one come to help Him? He shuddered and would have fled, but He had come into the world to take away its sea of sin. He would stand firm for our sakes. He prayed to His Father: “Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me. Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt.” (Matt. 26, 39.)

Oh, turn away your eyes! The sea has broken over Him. Its dirty, reeking waters have dragged Him into their foul depths. He can not breathe. His spotless soul is drenched with sin. He gasps and struggles to free Himself.

After three hours, Jesus staggers to His feet, bathed in His own blood from the fierceness of the struggle.

O Jesus, dearest Lord, all this for me! Oh, let me wipe the blood from Thy tear-stained face! I never knew before that my sins did this to Thee! Oh, never will I commit them again!

Weak and trembling, Jesus makes His way through the darkness to His Apostles. He wakes them and tells them that His enemies have come for Him. Even as He speaks, they see a band of men approaching with lighted lanterns and torches and clubs, and at their head walks Judas. The traitor goes up to Christ, lays his bloody hands on His shoulders and kisses Him! The gentle Jesus tries once more to keep the soul of Judas out of hell. He calls him His friend and says: “Judas, dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?” (Luke 22, 48.) But there is no pity, no love in the heart of Judas. Nothing can touch him.

The men then laid hold of Jesus and led Him off. The Apostles were frightened and ran away. “But Peter followed Him afar off, even to the court of the high priest. And going in he sat with the servants that he might see the end.” (Matt. 26, 58.)

“And one of the servants said to him: ‘Thou also wast with Jesus.’” (Matt. 26, 69.) But Peter declared he did not know what she said. “And as he went out of the gate, another maid saw him and she saith to them that were there: ‘This man also was with Jesus of Nazareth.’”

“And again he denied with an oath: ‘I know not the Man.’”

“And after a little while, they came that stood by and said to Peter: ‘Surely thou also art one of them. …’”

“Then he began to curse and to swear that he knew not the Man. And immediately the cock crew.” (Matt. 26:71-74.)

And Jesus, passing, turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered that Jesus had said to him: “‘Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny Me thrice.’”

“And Peter going out, wept bitterly.” (Luke 22:61, 62.)

And as long as he lived, Peter wept for his sin. To think that when Jesus was in trouble, he was afraid to have it known that he was His friend; when Jesus was going to His death, he kept away and swore he did not know Him.

Suddenly, into a room, where some of the priests had gathered, burst a man with blood-shot eyes and wild flying hair. He threw on the floor thirty pieces of silver, screaming: “I have sinned in betraying innocent blood.” (Matt. 27:4.) Then out he dashed, out beyond the city, up a rocky hillside, on whose summit stood a lonely dead tree. He dragged a rope over the stones. He was mad with sin. Panting for breath, he stood and plucked at the rope. O Judas, stop! Great is thy sin, but Jesus’ heart is greater. One word, one sigh of sorrow and He will forgive thee. He will throw thy sin behind His back and never think of it again. Even now He is giving His life for thee. But Judas would not be sorry. His soul was black with despair. Another moment and there dangled from the branches of the dead tree, the lifeless body of the traitor, whose guilty soul was already buried in the flames of hell.

Then they took Jesus to the Roman judge named Pontius Pilate, and asked him to sentence Him to death. Pilate said: “Why? What crime has He committed?” They answered: “He says He is the Son of God.”

Pilate could find no reason for killing Jesus, but seeing that the priests were bound to have Him die, and that the crowd in the street outside was shouting for His death, and growing greater and greater, for it was now daylight, he told them that if they wished, they might give Him forty strokes with a whip on His bare shoulders.

So Jesus was dragged into an open court-yard and tied to a pillar. They pulled off His garments and strong, Roman soldiers cut and lashed and tore His sacred body with whips until they were tired out.

Then they threw an old purple gown about Him, and making Him sit down, forced into His head a crown of long sharp thorns. The blood blinded His eyes and burst from His mouth and ears.

O Jesus, if only I could have taken those cruel thorns out of Thy sacred head! And my sins helped to make that crown! Oh, never will I sin again!

Then they dragged Jesus back to the hall, where Pilate sat. He was shocked when he saw what they had done to Christ. That beautiful face was covered with blood and those sacred feet tracked blood even to the judgment-seat. He led Him onto the porch so that the people might see Him and be touched at the sight. But the priests had roused the mob to madness, and the very ones, who five days before, had sung: “Hosanna to the Son of David,” now shouted: “Crucify Him! Crucify Him! Kill Him! Nail Him to a cross!”

Pilate asked for a basin of water, and washing his hands before all the people, cried out: “I am innocent of the blood of this just Man!” (Matt. 27:24.) But they shouted back: “His blood be upon us and upon our children!” (Verse 25.)

O weak, guilty judge, to give Jesus over to the fury of the mob! They dragged Christ into the street, laid on His bleeding shoulder a great, heavy cross, and made Him carry it out of the city to the top of a hill called Calvary.

Then they threw the cross on the ground and jerking the clothes from His torn body, laid Jesus upon it. Whilst some of the soldiers dug a hole in which to stand the cross, others took hammers and long nails and stretching the body of Jesus, nailed His hands and feet to the wood. Then they hoisted the cross and let it drop with a thud into the hole and packed the earth tight about it.

And to two other crosses, they tied two thieves, and raised them, one on the left and the other on the right of Christ.

Then they stood off and swore and the crowds surged to and fro and told Jesus that He could save others but could not save Himself, and if He were the Son of God, to come down from the cross and they would believe in Him. But Jesus was dying, because it was His will.

Little by little, the people went back to their homes and whilst a few soldiers stood on guard, Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and Mary Magdalene, the sister of Lazarus, and John, the Apostle, gathered about the cross.

Magdalene threw herself on the ground and wept, and kissed Christ’s sacred feet. John stood helpless, and the Blessed Mother watched and suffered, feeling in her heart all the pain that was her Son’s.

And the thief on the left bade Jesus save Himself and them, but the thief on the right told his companion that they, indeed, deserved to die, but not so Christ. Then, turning his head towards Jesus, he said: “Lord, remember me when Thou shalt come into Thy kingdom.” (Luke 23:42.) And Jesus answered: “Amen, I say to thee, this day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.” (Verse 43.)

Oh, see how Jesus suffers! The foot of the cross stands in a pool of His precious blood. And Magdalene is covered with it. It is on her hair and on her lips and on her hands and on her dress. It is dripping slowly now from His sacred hands and feet. How white His body is beneath its covering of blood. His dear lips are cracked and dry. His eyes are red and swollen. His poor head throbs with the fiery crown of thorns. His outstretched arms are so tired.

O Jesus, for three long hours Thou hast hung like this! And all for me! Never again will I sin and hurt Thee.

Each minute that Jesus hangs in torture seems like hours. And now terrible darkness has spread over the earth. You can barely see the faint outline of the white body on the cross. Not a sound breaks the stillness when Jesus raises His weary head, looks through His blood and tears at His dear Mother at His side, and then cries out with all His strength: “Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.” (Verse 46.) His head falls lifeless on His breast. He is dead.