If there is one place where our Lord Jesus most fully becomes the joy and comfort of his people, it is where he plunged deepest into the depths of woe. Come here, gracious souls, and behold the man in the garden of Gethsemane! Behold his heart so brimming with love that he cannot hold it in—so full of sorrow that it must find a vent. Behold the bloody sweat as it pours from every pore of his body and falls upon the ground.

Behold the man as they drive the nails into his hands and feet! Look up, repenting sinners, and see the sorrowful image of your suffering Lord. Mark him, as the ruby drops stand on the thorn-crown and adorn with priceless gems the diadem of the King of Misery.

Behold the man when all his bones are out of joint, when he is poured out like water and brought into the dust of death! God has forsaken him, and hell compasses him about. Behold and see—was there ever sorrow like unto his sorrow? All you who pass by, draw near and look upon this spectacle of grief, unique, unparalleled, a wonder to men and angels, a prodigy unmatched.

Behold the Emperor of Woe who had no equal or rival in his agonies! Gaze upon him, you mourners, for if there is no consolation in a crucified Christ, there is no joy in earth or heaven! If in the ransom price of his blood there is no hope, you harps of heaven, there is no joy in you, and the right hand of God shall know no pleasures forevermore!

We have only to sit more continually at the foot of the cross to be less troubled with our doubts and woes. We have but to see his sorrows, and our sorrows we shall be ashamed to mention. We have but to gaze into his wounds and heal our own.

If we would live aright, it must be by the contemplation of his death. If we would rise to dignity, it must be by considering his humiliation and his sorrow.