O spectacle of misery! By Charles Spurgeon. Matthew chapter 26, verse 67. Then they spit in his face and struck him. Others slapped him. Behold your king! I bring him forth to you in spirit and cry, Behold the man! Turn your hearts hither and look upon the matchless One, despised and rejected by men. Gaze reverently and lovingly with awe for His sufferings and love for Himself. The sight demands adoration. I offered my back to those who struck me and my cheeks to those who tore out my beard. I did not hide my face from scorn and spittle. O spectacle of misery!

Instead of being welcomed, Jesus was scourged. Instead of being honored, He was scorned. Cruelty smote His back and plucked off the hair from His face, while derision jeered at Him and cast its spittle upon Him. Shame and contempt were poured upon Him, though He was God Almighty.

That spectacle of Christ spat upon and scourged. represents what man once did to his Creator, and what man would do again to the Most High God, if he could. Every act of sin does as it were, spit into the face of God. All sin is an insult to the majesty of the thrice-holy God, and He regards it as such. For the sake of a few paltry pleasures, Men despise the love of God and rush headlong into an eternity of divine wrath.

To what a sinful race do I belong? Alas, that it should treat your infinite goodness so despitefully. That you should be rejected at all, but especially that you should be rejected when dressed in robes of love and arrayed in gentleness and pity, is horrible to think upon. I would charge humanity with brutality, but therein I slander the brutes who commit no such crimes. I may not even call this cruel scorning of God diabolical, for it is a sin which devils never committed. Of all the things that ever existed, sin is the most shameful thing that can be.

It deserves to be scourged. It deserves to be spat upon. it deserves to be crucified. And because our Lord Jesus had taken our sin upon Himself, therefore He must be put to shame, therefore He must be scourged, therefore His face must be covered with vile spittle. It appears incredible that those sacred hands were once nailed to a cruel cross, and that those cheeks which are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers, should have been battered and bruised.

Vile men, was there no place for your base deed but the well-beloved's face? Was there no place for your spittle but his face? Should such loveliness receive such shame as this? I could wish that man had never been created, or that, being created, he had been swept into nothingness. rather than have lived to commit such horror against his maker.

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief, like one from whom men hide their faces. He was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he took on our infirmities and carried our sorrows. Yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities. The punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his stripes we are healed.