When I Survey
H. Hoeksema
Book 3, Chapter 4
Reproached by the Ungodly
"The reproaches of them that reproached thee are fallen upon me." (Ps. 69:10)
As long as we contemplate the suffering of our Lord Jesus Christ as innocent bystanders, deeply interested, perhaps, in that awful spectacle, and even sympathetic, we cannot hear the Word of God that comes to us through that suffering. Then we fail to see in that sufferer the Son of God. All we see is a man in deep distress, the innocent victim of His enemies, a man, perhaps, that had the misfortune of being far in advance of His age, and who was, therefore, misunderstood, rejected, hated without a cause, a stranger to His own kin, and filled with reproach and shame. We feel, no doubt, that we would have taken His part against His enemies, and would have pleaded His cause. We are filled with indignation at those wicked and miserable Jews that hated and constantly persecuted, sought occasion against Him, and finally nailed Him to the cross. In that case, the spectacle of the Man of Sorrows, of the passion and death of Jesus Christ has an effect upon us which is precisely opposite to that designed by the Word of God: in our blindness we exalt ourselves above the enemies of Christ, we are hardened in our self-righteousness, and fail to repent and to humble ourselves under the mighty hand of God.
We must, therefore, understand that the passion of Jesus Christ is not the suffering of a mere man among men, in regard to which you and I are free to determine our position, to take sides. It is the suffering of the Son of God in the flesh, a suffering which, in as far as it was inflicted upon Him by men, was motivated by hatred against God. Therefore this suffering is wholly unique. There never was, never will be a sorrow like unto His sorrow. And He stands entirely alone in His suffering. No mere man ever takes it up for Him, or pleads His cause. All men are always against Him, unless the power of grace changes their hearts and opens their eyes to see. For "all we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way." Isa. 53:5. And "there is none righteous, no not one: there is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God...For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." Rom. 3:10,11,23. In order, then, fruitfully to contemplate the passion and death of our Lord we must not look down from the heights of our self-willed religiousness upon the men that caused Him to suffer, but understand that by nature our place is among His enemies. That is our real position. Nor must we flatter ourselves that it is in our power to change that position, for then we would deceive ourselves. Only the sovereign mercy of God can bring about such a radical change. We rejected Him, we hated Him without a cause, we are estranged from Him. And we reproached Him with the reproaches of them that reproach the living God. In all that men did to Jesus is clearly reflected the corruption of our own nature.
Once again we take our theme from that eminently Messianic sixty-ninth Psalm. In verses nine to twelve we hear the Christ complain before the face of God: "For the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up; and the reproaches of them that reproached thee are fallen upon me. When I wept, and chastened my soul with fasting, that was to my reproach. I made sackcloth also my garment; and I became a proverb to them. They that sit in the gate speak against me; and I was the song of the drunkards." Nor can there be any doubt that it is the Christ that is the real subject of this complaint, for the apostle Paul refers to this passage in Romans 15:3: "For even Christ pleased not himself, but as it is written, The reproaches of them that reproached thee fell on me."
Let us analyze this passage for a moment, and consider its different elements in their proper relation to one another, in order then to consider how they are fulfilled in Christ.
First of all, we notice that the poet speaks of his zeal for the house of God as the deepest cause of all his suffering, and of the reproach that is heaped upon him. The house of God is the sanctuary of Jehovah and all it represents: God's covenant and kingdom, the fellowship of His friendship, the glory of Him that sits enthroned between the cherubim, His cause, His righteousness and holiness, His people and their redemption through the blood that was sprinkled upon the horns of the altar, and upon the mercy seat in the inner sanctuary. For this house of God he is zealous. So overpowering is this zeal that it is like a fire in his bones that consumes him.
Secondly, it is evident that the poet beholds that house of God in a deplorable state. The sanctuary is defiled. The altar is profaned. The dwelling place of God has become a den of thieves. And because of this deplorable condition of Jehovah's sanctuary the psalmist suffers. He weeps his soul out. He goes in sackcloth and ashes. He chastens his soul with fasting. The zeal of the house of God in its deplorable state causes him to suffer.
And, finally, in this suffering and evident sorrow and distress because of God's house he becomes the object of hatred and is filled with reproach and ignominy. For he dwells in the midst of the enemies of the house of God. They are not at all concerned about Jehovah's sanctuary. In fact, they are the cause of its being defiled. Hence, they hate him. And the more he reveals his zeal for God's cause, and his distress because of the defilement of the house of God, the more they express their hatred. They heap reproach upon his head. They make him a byword, a proverb, an example of whatever is worthless. In the assembly of the drunkards he is the theme of their song. And those that sit in the gate, the judges of his people, speak against him as if he were an evil doer. And he complains to God about his distress. For he realizes that in him they mean to revile the living God. The reproaches of God's enemies are fallen upon him.
Now, all this was true of the author of this psalm. He speaks of his own experience. And, what is more, it may be applied to all the prophets of Israel, and, in fact, to all the saints. But it is applicable to them only because Christ is in them, and becomes revealed through them; and, besides, only in a limited sense. But in Christ the words of the psalmist are completely realized. He bore the reproach of men as no other man did. And never did He bear any other reproach than that which was directed against the living God.
Of Him alone it is literally true that the zeal of God's house consumed Him. The disciples were reminded of this when they witnessed His first cleansing of the temple, when He drove out those that made His Father's house a den of robbers. John 2:17. Yet, this act was performed only in the earthly sanctuary, and was typical of what He had come to do. For He came to build the real temple of God, to establish the eternal covenant of God with His people. That covenant of friendship had once been established in Paradise with the first Adam. But man had violated the covenant by rejecting the Word of God and heeding the lie of the devil. He had defiled the house of God. However, God would give His glory to no other. He maintained His covenant, and, according to His eternal good pleasure, purposed not only to restore His house and to cleanse it from all the pollution of sin, but also to raise it through the deep way of sin and death and grace to the higher level of heavenly perfection and glory. Unto that end He had from all eternity ordained His only begotten Son to be the Head over the whole house of God, in order that He might destroy the works of the devil, and build the eternal house of God's covenant. For this purpose He came into the world. Another purpose for His coming there was not. In that one purpose, to establish God's everlasting tabernacle with men, His whole existence and life were bound up. Other interests He had none. Only the zeal for God's house motivated Him. He represented God's cause, God's glory, the honor of God's name, God's righteousness and holiness and justice. And He came to destroy the defiled temple of Man, and to build the temple of God in all its heavenly glory. And that house of God was to be realized in His people, those whom the Father had given Him from before the foundation of the world.
And because of this zeal for God's house, He became the Man of Sorrows. For only on the basis of righteousness, of God's righteousness, and in the way of His justice could God's house be founded and built. And we had sinned, and had become worthy of death and damnation. We were children of wrath. No right we had to dwell in God's fellowship. If His house were to be rebuilt and perfected in those whom the Father had given Christ in His eternal good pleasure, the guilt of their sin must be blotted out, and they must be clothed with an everlasting righteousness. And this required the sacrifice of perfect obedience even unto death. This sacrifice we could never bring. We could only defile and destroy the house of God: never could we cleanse it and rebuild it. But Christ came to satisfy the justice of God, to take all the sins of His own upon Himself, and in their stead to stand in the place of judgment, bear all the wrath of God, bring the perfect sacrifice in tasting all the horrors of death, and thus to lay the foundations of the house of God in His own precious blood.
Hence, He was the Man of Sorrows. He came to suffer, and to die. The zeal of God's house caused Him to make sackcloth His garment, for He came in the likeness of sinful flesh, and He partook of the flesh and blood of the children. And in that likeness of sinful flesh He fasted and wept, He "offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death." Heb. 5:7. His soul became exceedingly sorrowful even unto death, so that His sweat became as it were great drops of blood. He was troubled in soul and spirit, until the amazing cry was wrung from His breast: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
And because of all this He was filled with reproach!
Reproach is itself a keen form of suffering, and a cause of more suffering. One that heaps reproach upon you hates you, and expresses his hatred by attacking your good name, usually by making it an object of contempt and scorn. Every man has a name, a reputation with his fellowmen. By that name he is known from different aspects and in different capacities and relationships, as a father in relation to his family, a workman in the shop, a teacher in the school, a citizen among his fellow-citizens, a member of the church. His name denotes what he is, how he is known among men, from the viewpoint of his ability and moral character. To attack one's name, therefore, is to attack his person, his honor, his very place in the world. And to heap reproach on one is to besmear his name, to make him of ill repute among men, to present him as a worthless fellow, an object of contempt, one that is unworthy to have a place in decent society. And the result is, if the attack is successful, that the victim becomes an outcast, who meets with scorn and disdain everywhere, and cannot find a place in the world.
Literally, this was done to Christ. He, too, had a name. And His name was ordained and given Him of God. He was Jesus, that would save His people from their sins; the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world, the Son of God, the Christ, the promised Messiah that would reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and that would restore and build the temple of God. That was His name. And that name He revealed in His public ministry. For He taught the people. And by the very contents and character of His instruction, as well as by direct declarations, He made Himself known as the prophet that was to come, as the Messiah, the anointed of God, that was sent of the Father into the world to establish the kingdom of heaven, and to realize the everlasting tabernacle of God with men. And He corroborated His teaching, and sustained His claim by His mighty works. For He went throughout the land doing good; He opened the eyes of the blind, the ears of the deaf; He made the lame to walk, He cleansed the lepers, and He raised the dead! And He made it very plain that He came to destroy the power of darkness, and to maintain the cause of the righteousness of God in the way of suffering and death.
And men attacked His name. They destroyed His reputation among men. They called Him a sinner, a liar, a deceiver, a friend of publicans and sinners, a subject of Beelzebub, a blasphemer, a revolutionary. They heaped scorn and derision upon Him. And the astonishing feature of this reproach is that the more He suffered, the more vehement became their attacks upon His name, the more furious they became in their contempt and scorn and bitter hatred. Even when He was in their power they mocked Him, blindfolded Him, spit their contempt upon Him, put Him to nought by means of a purple mock-robe, a cruel crown of thorns, a reed-scepter, and mock obeisance. Yea, even when He was nailed to the cross, and at the time when even the lowest and vilest criminal would have been an object of commiseration, their fury knew no bounds. Still they heaped their reproach upon Him, challenged Him to come down from the cross and with satanic hatred suggested that even God had forsaken Him!
Was ever man reproached as He? Indeed, He became a byword and a proverb. His name was the theme of the song of drunken revelers. And those that sat in the gate spoke against Him. No man ventured to defend His name. So reviled He was that even His foremost disciple publicly disavowed any connection with Him!
And what was the reason? Why did they so furiously rage against His name, and heap scorn and contempt upon it? Principally, and in its deepest sense, because they meant to reproach the name of God! For thus He complains: "the reproaches of them that reproach thee are fallen upon me." He represented the cause of God; they stood for the cause of man against God. He defended the honor of God; they sought the honor of men. He maintained the righteousness and justice of God; they exalted themselves in self-righteousness against the living God. He came to destroy the temple of man which they loved; He came to build the house of God, which they hated and defiled. In their reproach of Christ they revealed themselves as utterly profane, as hating and despising the holy things of God and His covenant! Because the zeal of God's house consumed Him they filled Him with contempt! In Him they reproached the living God! That is the condemnation of the world!
And that is our condemnation! For by nature, as mere men, apart from grace, we belong with that profane, scorning, contemptuous, God-reviling world that heaped reproach on Christ. Let us not shed a religious, self-righteous tear of sympathy at the cross of Christ: let us rather confess that we heaped that reproach upon His head. Let us not weep over Him, let us rather weep over ourselves and over our children. Let us not condemn those wicked Jews that so despised their Messiah; let us rather sign our own condemnation before the terrible tribunal of God. Let us, as we contemplate His reproach, not put on a mask of righteous indignation; let us rather mirror ourselves in it to discover what foul profanities there are lurking in the depth of our sinful nature.
Then there is hope. Otherwise we must needs be damned with that God-reproaching world.
Then there is a way out. Not, mark you, because we have the power to change ourselves, or the will to abandon our profane, God-reviling attitude, for we are slaves of sin. But then there is hope, first of all, because He bore the sin of our reproach upon that very tree to which we finally spiked Him; because He brought the perfect sacrifice that blotted out the guilt of our iniquity, and obtained for His own the perfect righteousness. And, secondly, because He was raised from the dead, and became the quickening Spirit, and has the power to deliver us from our profanity, and so to change us, that instead of heaping reproach upon the name of God, we prostrate ourselves before Him in humble adoration, with the prayer on our lips: Hallowed be Thy name! Such is the marvel of His wondrous grace!