A thoughtful writer once made a mournful list of the "honors" that blind Israel gave to their long-awaited King.

First, they gave him a procession of honor. Roman soldiers, Jewish priests, men and women all took part—while he himself bore his cross. This is the triumph the world awards to him who comes to overthrow humanity's direst foes! Derisive shouts were his only acclamations. Cruel taunts his only songs of praise.

Second, they presented him with the wine of honor. Instead of a golden cup of generous wine, they offered him the criminal's stupefying death-draught. He refused it—he would preserve an uninjured taste to taste death fully. And when he cried out "I thirst," what did they give him? Vinegar mixed with gall, thrust at his mouth on a sponge. Oh! Wretched, detestable inhospitality to the King's Son!

Third, he was provided with a guard of honor. And how did this guard show their esteem? By gambling for his garments, which they'd seized as their booty. Such was the bodyguard for the adored of heaven—a quaternion of brutal gamblers.

Fourth, they found him a throne of honor upon the bloody tree. No easier place of rest would rebel men yield to their liege Lord. The cross was, in fact, the full expression of the world's feeling toward him. "There," they seemed to say, "thou Son of God, this is the manner in which God himself should be treated, could we reach him."

Fifth, his title of honor was nominally "King of the Jews." But the blinded nation distinctly repudiated even that, and really called him "King of thieves" by choosing Barabbas over him and placing Jesus in the place of highest shame between two thieves.

Thus the sons of men turned all his glory into shame. But it shall yet gladden the eyes of saints and angels, world without end!