EC 13:7{Not the hand of an impotent foe, but the sharp sword of the omnipotent Lord of Hosts was lifted to smite His Shepherd—our Shepherd-King, the Great, the Chief, the Good (and the Beautiful as the original implies). Think of the words, "stricken, smitten of God," with their unknown depths of agony, and then of Jesus, Him whom we love, fathoming those black depths of agony alone! "Jesus smitten of God!”
Can we even say the words, and not feel moved as no other grief could move us? Do not let us shrink from dwelling upon it; let us rather seek that the Holy Spirit, even now, might show us a little of what this awful smiting really was—to show us our dear Lord Jesus Christ, in this tremendous proving of His own and His Father's love to—whisper in our hearts as we gaze upon the Crucified One, "Behold your King." We can only stand afar off, bowed and hushed in shuddering love, as the echoes of the awful stripes that fell on Him float down through the listening centuries, while each throb of the healed heart replies, "For me! For me!" "I have trodden the wine press alone, and of the people there was none with Me.”
I suffered much for thee,
More than thy tongue can tell
Of bitterest agony,
To rescue thee from hell.
I suffered much for thee;
What canst thou bear for Me?