Having stripped Jesus of His clothing, according to custom they divided it among themselves; the loose upper garment or toga to one, the head-dress to another, the girdle to another, and the sandals to the last.  John watched the division—­“to every soldier a part.”  But his interest was chiefly in the under-garment such as Galilean peasants wore.  This must have been a reminder of the region from which he and Jesus had come.  He thinks it worth while to describe it as “without seam, woven from the top throughout.”  Perhaps to him another reminder—­of Mary or Salome or other ministering women by whose loving hands it had been knit.  If ever a garment, because of its associations, could be called holy, surely it is what John calls “the coat” of Jesus.  Even without miraculous power, it would be the most precious of relics.  We notice John’s interest in it as he watches the soldiers’ conversation of banter or pleasantry or quarrel, in which it might become worthless by being torn asunder.  He remembered their parleying, and the proposal in which it ended,—­“Let us not rend it, but cast lots for it whose it shall be.”  How far were their thoughts from his when their words recalled to him the prophecy they were unconsciously fulfilling,—­“They part My garments among them, and upon My vesture do they cast lots.”

With what pity did Jesus look down upon the lucky soldier—­so he would be called—­sporting with the coat which had protected Him from the night winds of Gethsemane.  How He longed to see in the bold and heartless heirs to His only earthly goods, the faith of her, who timidly touched the hem of His garment.  What a scene was that for John to behold!  What a scene for angels who had sung the glories of Jesus’ birth, now looking down upon His dying agonies of shame—­and upon the gambling dice of His murderers!  No marvel John added to the almost incredible story, “These things ... the soldiers did.”

It is at this point that we notice a sudden transition in John’s narrative.  He points us from the unfriendly group of four, to another of the same number; saying as if by contrast, “But there were standing by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas and Mary Magdalene.”  By “His mother’s sister” we understand Salome.

The centurion had charge of the plundering soldiers; John was the guardian of the sympathizing women.  He had a special interest in that group, containing his mother and aunt, and probably another relative in Mary the wife of Clopas.  Mary Magdalene was not of this family connection, though of kindred spirit.  So must John have felt as she stood with him at the cross, and at a later hour when we shall see them together again.