Agony

We are here to remember Jesus, our Savior, to remember how He endured so much for us on the Cross. We are here to remember Good Friday. But to do that we are not going to look at what Jesus was doing on that Friday but rather what He was doing on the evening before. We’re going to look at Jesus at prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. And we’re doing that because a careful look at what happened in the Garden will help us all to understand a little better what happened at the Cross.

Listen to how Luke describes Jesus at prayer.

And he came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him. And when he came to the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not enter into temptation.” And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed, saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground. Luke 22.39-44

Agony. It’s a word that carries quite a picture with it. This is a kind of pain, but a pain that has been ratcheted up. Jesus is in agony. Why? That is what we are going to consider this evening.

I actually think that, on one level, the answer to my question is fairly obvious. Jesus is in agony because He is considering the Cross. He knows that on the next day nails will be driven through His limbs into some pieces of wood and that once He is lifted up on that Cross He will be left to die. The thought terrifies Him. He is in agony. It’s because of this prospect that He is asking the Father if it’s possible to set aside that part of the Father’s will.

But the answer to my question isn’t so obvious when you probe a bit. Why is Jesus struggling so? Countless martyrs for the faith went willingly, sometimes gladly, to their deaths, to horrible deaths. Why is Jesus responding so differently?

Consider what He said in His prayer.

Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me.

What is this ‘cup’? What is Jesus referring to here? It is an image that is used elsewhere in the Scriptures.

For in the hand of the Lord there is a cup with foaming wine, well mixed, and he pours out from it, and all the wicked of the earth shall drain it down to the dregs. Psalm 75.8

Thus the Lord, the God of Israel, said to me: “Take from my hand this cup of the wine of wrath, and make all the nations to whom I send you drink it.” Jeremiah 25.15

And another angel, a third, followed them, saying with a loud voice, “If anyone worships the beast and its image and receives a mark on his forehead or on his hand, he also will drink the wine of God’s wrath, poured full strength into the cup of his anger, and he will be tormented with fire and sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb.” Revelation 14.9,10

This cup has to do with the wrath of God, the wrath of God against rebels, those who reject Him and His authority. When the martyrs went to their deaths, they knew that there would be none of that for them. Their sins had been dealt with already. God’s just wrath had been satisfied. So, yes, there would be pain. But it would only be the physical pain of dying and not the prospect of facing a very angry God. Jesus, on the other hand, would die a painful death like they, but more to the point, He would be facing the pure and undiluted anger of God against sin, the sin that He bore on behalf of His people.

The physical pain of crucifixion is something that none of us will ever come close to experiencing. And I am sure that we all are grateful for that. But that pain does not come anywhere close to what it feels like to endure the anger of a just God punishing sin. But that is exactly what Jesus was confronted with. That was the cup that was being set before Him. I think we can understand why even the thought of it made Him cringe.

But that’s not the worst of it.

It may well be that none of us will experience anything like the pain of crucifixion. Then again, it may be that one of us will experience something that painful. I have taught you how to deal with things like that. It’s all about the Immanuel principle. I have told you that you can face any problem, however terrible, because your God is with you. He is near. And being near, He is able to give you whatever it is that you need to be able to endure that trauma. Our hope is that when it is time to walk through some dark valley we do not walk alone. The Father walks with us to strengthen our resolve, to encourage our faith, to give us the grace of perseverance so that we can endure it to the end. His presence makes the difference.

But Jesus had none of that while He endure the unimaginable on that Cross. He would walk through that valley of death, valley of rage, alone.

I am sure that even the possibility of our having to deal with something awful on our own, without the comforting presence of our heavenly Father, would be terrifying to us. We have learned to depend on Him so much as we deal with life. But this is where you need to bear in mind a key difference between Jesus and us. We are adopted children who are getting used to the idea that we are part of the family of God, that we actually are His children. Our enjoyment of that gift of the Gospel is still developing. But that’s not true for Jesus. His experience of the nearness of His Father is nothing like that. He is a natural born Son of the Father. Up to this point, He has never experienced anything but the full enjoyment of the love of His Father. But He knows that on the next day, as He drains that cup of the wrath of God, He will be alone. He will be deserted. He will cry out that He has been forsaken. The nearness of His Father, which had been such a comfort throughout His life, will be gone. But it will not just be absent. The Father’s comforting presence will be replaced by His rage. And Jesus will need to bear that alone. There will be the complete reversal of those words of the Father at Jesus’ baptism.

You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased. Mark 1:11

Jesus will not be the beloved Son. No, He will become the hated Son. And instead of being well pleasing to the Father, He will be repugnant in the sight of the Father.

And don’t forget that it wasn’t just the approval of the Father that would be taken away and replaced. The comforting and empowering presence of the Spirit, symbolized by that descending dove, will also be gone. Jesus will be facing something absolutely horrid completely alone. Agony.

Let me suggest a thought that isn’t explicitly in the text, but I rather think that it fits. Listen again.

And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. Luke 22:43

How interesting. The Father sent an angel. I say that because who else could send an angel? But listen to what Luke writes next.

And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground. Luke 22:44

Why would the presence of an angel, sent to strengthen Him, result in Jesus struggling more and thus praying even more earnestly? It’s not the presence of the angel. It’s why the presence of the angel was needed. Listen to something earlier in Luke that is too often overlooked.

And when the devil had ended every temptation, he departed from him until an opportune time. Luke 4:13

Satan began Jesus’ ministry by tempting Him. As you know, Jesus responded well to those temptations. Too many think that that was the end of Jesus being tempted. But that’s not what Luke wrote. Satan would be back. He would be back at ‘an opportune time’. I’m thinking that Jesus in the Garden, struggling with the prospect of that cup of wrath, is a most opportune time. And what do you suppose Satan was whispering in Jesus’ ear? How about this? ‘My offer of the kingdoms of the world and their glory is still on the table. You can be Lord of all, and that without suffering on any cross. Think about it. It’s a really good deal. All You need to do is get up and leave this Garden before they come to arrest You. It really will be so much better.’ In that moment such a temptation would be very appealing to Jesus. And that’s why, ‘He prayed more earnestly’.

Earlier I asked, ‘Why the agony?’ and I pointed to the Cross. But there is another perspective on that question; an additional way to answer it. Why the agony? Listen to Jesus’ answer.

Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.

Why the agony? Jesus wanted to submit to the Father. But He could see what that meant. He was struggling to submit in light of what it meant. And that’s why the agony. There is a lesson for us in this. Honoring the Father by submitting to His will may be costly. It may be very costly. And yet, following Jesus’ lead, it is what we are called to do.

But let’s pursue this further. Why did the Father will this? Why did the Father call Jesus to the Cross? It was the only way that His mission could be successfully accomplished. And that mission was the redemption of humanity. The goal of the Father is that there would be no cup of wrath for you. The mission of God, especially highlighted in the Cross, would result in the glory of God being revealed in a way that it had not been before. What would especially stand out would be God’s justice and His love. And Jesus really did want that to stand out.

That also explains the agony. Jesus shrank from what was to happen on the next day. And yet, He desired the glory of God to be revealed. And what we have been looking at were the wrestlings of His soul.

Looking at Thursday says so much about what Jesus did on Friday. It explains what He was enduring on that Cross. But looking at Thursday also says much about Jesus before Friday dawned. He was presented with the prospect of the cup of God’s wrath, understood what it meant for Him, agonized over what it meant for Him and still resolved to drain that cup so that there would be no wrath left over for you.

Now, what do I want you to do with all of this? I want you to sing. I want you to sing your praise to Jesus, the Savior. It will not be a bright and cheerful song of praise. It will be more muted, more somber. But it will be praise.

Before we sing, I want to read the words of the hymn. They’re printed in the bulletin. Follow along.

Man of Sorrows! what a name

For the Son of God, who came

Ruined sinners to reclaim.

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude,

In my place condemned He stood;

Sealed my pardon with His blood.

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Guilty, vile, and helpless we;

Spotless Lamb of God was He;

Full atonement! can it be?

Hallelujah! What a Savior!