The Refusal of the Drug

Jesus and Rufus were passing by on his way in from the country, and they forced him to carry the cross. They brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha, which means the place of the skull. Then they offered him wine mixed with myrrh, but he did not take it, and they crucified him.

Dividing up his clothes, they cast lots to see what each would get. It was the third hour when they crucified him. The written notice of the charge against him read, the King of the Jews.

They crucified two robbers with him, one on his right and one on his left. Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads and saying, so you who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, come down from the cross and save yourself. In the same way, the chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves.

He saved others, they said, but himself he cannot save. Let this Christ, this King of Israel, come down now from the cross that we may see and believe. Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him.

At the sixth hour, darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour, Jesus cried out in a loud voice, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani, which means, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? When some of those standing near heard this, they said, listen, he's calling Elijah. One man ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink.

Leave him alone now. Let's see if Elijah comes to take him down, he said. With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last.

I'd be glad if you'd have your Bibles open at the passage David read, which was from the 15th chapter of the Gospel of Mark. And then, as you have your Bible open at Mark 15, let me read to you some words which help to put a perspective, a back cloth, behind our study for this morning. Here is a Messianic psalm which speaks of the death of our Lord Jesus Christ.

And in the 69th psalm, we hear him say this. Do not let the floodwaters engulf me, or the depths swallow me up, or the pit close its mouth over me. Answer me, O Lord, out of the goodness of your love.

In your great mercy, turn to me. Do not hide your face from your servant. Answer me quickly, for I am in trouble.

Come near and rescue me. Redeem me because of my foes. You know how I am scorned, disgraced, and shamed.

All my enemies are before you. Scorn has broken my heart and has left me helpless. I looked for sympathy, but there was none.

For comforters, but I found none. They put gall in my food and gave me vinegar for my thirst. We have been considering during these last four or five Sunday morning's events which led up to the death of our blessed Savior on the cross.

And I want to spend the time that's at my disposal now by taking you to just one more aspect before his actual crucifixion, when he was offered a drink and he refused to take what was given to him. You will recall that on a previous occasion reference had been made to the cup, the cup of suffering. It was a proverbial reference, for the cup as a drink was not literal.

But the physical pain that is involved within the metaphor was terribly real. And we discover our Lord Jesus, you recall, in the garden of Gethsemane asking the Father, let this cup pass from me. And then he is strengthened.

And instead of rejecting the cup, he accepts it and he drains it right to its last drops. And then paradoxically, having been handed to the high priest and then to Pilate and then from Pilate to Herod and back from Herod to Pilate and sent on his way up that skull-shaped hill, he's offered another cup. And this cup, according to the gospel account in Matthew, he tastes and then he rejects it.

And I want to try to argue this today, that had our Lord taken this particular cup, he could have never fully consumed the contents of the first cup in the garden of Gethsemane. If he was to take the chalice of death and drain the last droplet out of it, it was necessary for this particular cup that's offered him as he comes to the scene of Golgotha itself shall be rejected. Now you recall from our reading in the 23rd verse of Mark 15, that they offered him wine mixed with myrrh and we're told he rejected it.

And similarly in Matthew chapter 27 and verse 34, the account is repeated with the additional information that he put the brim of the cup to his lips and when he tasted, he would not consume. Why would our Savior not drink this cup that he was offered moments before he's pinned to the cross? And the answer has to do with its contents. We find in Mark's gospel that wine is mixed with myrrh and a similar expression in Matthew's gospel, wine mixed with gall.

And those expressions, myrrh and gall, indicate a narcotic, a drug. So what you have handed to our Lord is some form of anesthetic, whereby if he consumes it, the pain of the cross might in some fashion be dulled and his mind shall be dimmed to all that shall continue as he comes to the scene when the soldier shall pin his body to the gibbet. I'll admit it was a kindly action, probably at the prompting of some influential women in Jerusalem who, following through a principle discovered in the 31st chapter of the book of Proverbs, offer our Savior this drink.

We're told in that Old Testament volume in the sixth verse of the chapter, I quote, give beer to those who are perishing, wine to those who are in anguish, let them drink and let them forget. But our Savior rejects this kindly offer, probably put before him by these sensitive women from Jerusalem. He will not consume the drink that's a mixture of wine and narcotics.

And I want to ask why. Why does he reject this liquid? Not because he's an abstemious man. It was John, you remember, who's rather a wild man in the estimate of his contemporaries, who lives in the wilderness and has such a strange menu.

But for Jesus, well, they criticized him by saying that he's a wine-bibber and he's a drunkard. It was not because of some commitment to a teetotal position that compelled the Lord Jesus to reject this particular offer of the narcotic, the drug mixed with wine. Then why? Why does our blessed Lord, his body already writhed with pain, why does he not receive this very kindly offer on the part of these women? I answer in several fashions.

He rejected the drug because he wanted to safeguard a lifelong principle. Jesus, throughout the years of his human pilgrimage on this earth, he never took a shortcut. In no way did he ever use the miraculous to bring him an easier way of life.

There is never one instance when he employed the supernatural to lessen his bodily fatigue or to alleviate his bodily wants. Time was when he hushed the wind, you remember, on the storm, stormy Sea of Galilee. But that was not because he was frightened about the waves that were so gigantic.

It was the troubled hearts of the disciples that compelled him to calm the sea. Time was when he multiplied a handful of loaves and fishes, but it was not to satisfy his own desire for food that he engaged in that piece of miraculous activity, but simply because 5,000 men alongside a large number of women and children had been with him for a long period of time. Time was when our Lord Jesus Christ came across a man who was blind and he touched him and his sight was restored.

Time was when a centurion came and told him of his servant who was ill and Jesus spoke the word and recovery ensued. Our Lord was like a sower that scatters his good deeds with the right hand and with the left. His miracles always directed towards the advantage of those to whom he gave his life, to whom he dedicated his mission, but never once does the blessed Christ in any way endeavor to alleviate his own sorrow, his own suffering, as he goes down those 32 or 33 years that were his earthly lot.

And just before he comes to Golgotha, you remember how he has exposed himself to the cruel taunts and treatment of the Roman soldiers. They buffeted his face, but he does not retaliate. Their spittle is in his beard, but in no way does he denounce them.

And here is our Lord offered an easier way than going through the full impact of suffering at the cross as these womenfolk offer him the wine mingled with myrrh, but he rejects it and safeguards that principle which remains constant throughout his earthly life. He will not choose an easier path than the path directed for him by his Father God. Another way in which I would seek to answer the question why our Lord rejected that drink is by suggesting to you that in his refusal he foiled another temptation.

He foiled another temptation. I would argue that constantly throughout his public ministry, Jesus in effect was offered the myrrh cup. Here he is at the beginning of his ministry.

He's in the wilderness, a very solitary individual. Forty days, forty nights have elapsed, and the devil comes alongside him. And there are three well-known temptations, and in effect they all boil down to the same principle that is here at Golgotha.

It's the myrrh cup. Consume this. In some way, drug your sensitivities.

Take another way out for your life. Not the pain, not the suffering. Here you are, you're hungry.

The stones, turn them into bread. Satisfy your natural desires. Here you are designated the king.

I take you to one of the mountains. I show you the nations of the world. Bow down.

Worship me, and it's all yours for the asking. Here you are on the top of the pinnacle of the temple. Throw yourself down.

Will not God Almighty send his angels to catch you, to be a safety net? The drug is there, you see. The narcotic, mingled with the wine. And the devil, time and time again, throughout the 36 months of our Lord's public ministry, will proffer him that drink, will place the very rim to his lips.

But the Savior will always reject. I have every respect for any woman, or for any man who offered a kindly act to the Savior. Thank God for Simon of Cyrene, even though perhaps there was an element of compulsion.

He aided the Savior when he was in need. And these women, doubtless, are stimulated with good intent as they bring that drink, and they offer it to our Lord on that day, the like of which there has never been before, nor since. They want, in some way, to reduce his suffering.

I have no blame myself in my heart when I think of Simon Peter, taking Jesus to task months before this event. The Savior has revealed that he must go to Jerusalem and there be crucified. And in horror, Peter says, no Lord, not you, not the cross.

Oh yes, he's impetuous, is this Peter, but I'm impetuous too. He spiritually has blurred vision, but my vision is so often out of focus. And I too would have received that same cutting rebuke by our Lord, deservedly leveled, but nonetheless understandably inflicted upon Peter, get you behind me, Satan.

You don't realize it, Peter. It's the drink again. It's that wine mixed with the drug, with the myrrh, with the gorg.

You're pressing it to my lips, and I can't take that, Peter, and still remain true to what the Father God wishes me to perform. And so here, at the hands of these women folk, our Savior is offered this wine mixed with myrrh. Drink what they give you, Lord.

Empty this cup. It'll dull your senses. It will take the world away from you for a few hours.

It will cancel the sensitivity of your feelings to that burning, searing, blazing sun that causes so many difficulty in the Middle East. Take that cup, that cup, the drugged cup. And when He takes and He tastes, His whole humanity needing liquid refreshment, He will not imbibe.

He will not consume, because our Savior realizes, though the intention of the women is good, the stimulus itself is from Satan. And if He drinks, the whole of the salvation of mankind is imperiled. Listen to a German theologian.

We can say that the whole of God's revelation of the incarnate Word lies between the rim of the cup and the lips of Christ. The life work accomplished in 30 years is now in danger of drowning in a single cup of myrrh. He cannot take that cup.

His humanity desires it. His divinity prohibits it. You remember a scene that perhaps is brought back to your mind as you think of our Savior and His parched lips at this time, with His body searing with pain? The parable of the rich man in hell.

And the rich man asks for just a drop of water to quench his thirst, and it is refused. My friend, it's not just a resemblance of that parable that comes to my mind right now. I strip it of any parabolic meaning.

Here is our blessed Lord. He descended into hell. He endured physical and spiritual suffering to the absolute degree, and He cannot even have His pain reduced, not even by one gulp of that refreshing, refreshing liquid drink with its inbuilt narcotic property that would also dull His sensitivities.

Our Savior takes and rejects the wine mixed with myrrh, recognizing it as being just another assault of the devil to prevent Him from achieving His life's objective of offering Himself as an atonement for the sins of believing mankind. But in with this, I'll try to wind up my meditation, and who can be homiletical and tidy in dealing with such a concept as this, this morning. Our Savior rejects the drug, and thereby He maintains His priesthood.

How do I reason that? Why does my mind jump to that conclusion? Think it through. In the Old Testament, there are three major officers, the prophet, the king, and the priest. And those three officers, they all combine in the ministry of Jesus.

He is the King, the King of the Jews. Oh, they put that sign around His neck and caused Him to carry it up Golgotha, along with the gibbet, out of mockery. But it was true.

He is the King of the Jews. And He's also the prophet. He can stand in front of Pilate and predict the coming of His kingdom in great power and glory.

But He's not only King. He's not only prophet. He's also a priest.

He's a priest of the Most High God. And the etymology, the origin of the word priest means to stand, to stand in the presence of God. The priest represents man before deity, and deity before man.

And the priest cannot consume intoxicating drink in the presence of the Lord. How can a drunken man ever stand? He staggers, he lurches, he goes from side to side, his vision is out of focus, his mental faculties are all askew. Jesus, to take that drug, would have forfeited His priesthood, and that He cannot do.

He will stand before God, pinned to a cross, with all His mental faculties intact. His body racked with pain, yes, but He will have clear mental perception. If He takes that drink, then how can He with jumbled thoughts, and mind that is all out of vision, how can He speak those words that come from the cross, those seven sayings, which are such a praise of His feeling, and have such pregnant information contained within them? The Lord Jesus Christ, I say, He rejects the cup, so that He may have His understanding unsullied.

He will be able to grapple with the situation that confronts Him, as ultimately His body is pinned to that torture rack, and it's hoisted high for all to see. What happened on that day, the like of which, as I said, there's never been before, nor since, our Lord makes an atonement. He brings God within the reach of humanity.

He brings humanity within the reach of God, but the cost factor is so great, that no words of the best auditor in the world could ever describe it. Around the cross, all the forces of hell are let loose. Around the cross, there is the mockery of Pilate's men, the mockery of the Sanhedrin, the mockery of Herod the Idumean.

All this Jesus has in full perspective, and over a little distance away, there's His mother and the women who have sensitive hearts and love towards our Lord Jesus Christ, and He has all this in mind. His mental powers remain unsullied. He has full control of His faculties on that day, when He grapples with the forces of hell and of righteousness.

Our Lord Jesus remains as ever prophet, king, and priest. A priest of the Lord God, who will take no drink that might be cloud His senses, who will go to the cross and offer Himself as an atonement for the sins of the world. And so, our Savior rejects the cup that's been proffered to Him, and in so rejecting, the writer of the Hebrew epistle says, conversely, paradoxically, He tasted death for every man.

There were two cups, you see. The cup of death offered the Savior in the garden of Gethsemane. At first, He recoils, and then He drinks.

And then the other cup, the cup with the drug in. At first, He tastes. Is humanity ablaze with need to consume that refreshing liquid? But His deity says, no.

Drink that, and you can't consume the draught you've already started from the other cup. So Jesus rejects the latter in favor of the former, and in drinking that cup, He tastes death for you and for me. Blessed Savior, with the unsullied brain and the clear vision, who goes to the cross, all mental faculties intact, and offers Himself as a ransom for you and for me.

Let us pray. Father God, for the achievements of our Savior on Calvary's cross, we bless you. And help us this morning not only to have listened to this meditation, but to have responded from hearts that are filled with a sense of love for all that the Christ has done for us.

He took my sins and my sorrows. He made them His very own. For that we bless you.

Amen. Let's conclude by singing a hymn which speaks of the Man of Sorrows. 189.

Man of Sorrows, what a name. For the Son of Man who came, ruin sinners to reclaim. Hallelujah.

What a Savior. We'll sing these verses sensitively. Then it will prepare our hearts to come around this table.

Perhaps the most important thing that you can do this Sunday is to take this bread and to take this wine. And unless circumstances are really beyond your control, I feel you should be around this table, remembering our Lord's death in a few moments' time. 189.

We thank you. And by the way that we live, may I say to you that we thank you for the way that we live. May I say to you that we thank you for the way that we live.

May our lives indicate the measure of our gratitude we offer you, Savior. Lord God, for sending our Savior, and Holy Spirit, for applying His work to our benefit. Amen.