Prayer In the Garden
Notes
Transcript
Introduction
Introduction
Good morning! Welcome to CHCC. We are inching ever closer to the cross in our study through Luke’s gospel, where we now find ourselves in the Garden of Gethsemane. We pick up following the events of the Last Supper. Jesus has just instituted communion with the disciples, highlighted by His words issuing forth the New Covenant: “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood” (Luke 22:20).
However, this beautiful moment—one that Jesus openly admits He has earnestly desired to share with His disciples—takes a downward spiral. Judas departs in his betrayal; the disciples bicker amongst themselves about who is greatest; and Jesus gives Peter a sorrowful prophecy—He will deny Christ three times before the rooster would crow the next morning. Lastly, in the midst of all of what is happening, the disciples are slow to understand the words of Jesus. He tells them to be prepared and to be ready in the time after His resurrection, but they seem to miss the meaning of His words. In all of this, Jesus exclaims, “It is enough.” Or, no more of this talk. It’s done.”
In the midst of this frustrating turn in the night, Jesus turns to the one thing He has always turned to throughout His life on earth—He turns to prayer.
And in the midst of our study this morning I want us to see this through the lens of Christ. Because if we look at it from human perspective, we would likely conclude that this whole situation has gotten out of control and nothing that is happening seems to be purposeful.
But one key theme we have discussed throughout our study through Luke is what? The power and authority of Christ. And I want us to see that even in the chaos of this moment, Christ is in authority of everything. Even in death, Christ reveals authority. While that may seem counterintuitive to our finite minds, this is the reality.
So in our passage this morning, we will consider—first—the importance of prayer as well as the answer to prayers. Second, I hope we will see the command and authority God has of this moment—and thus—every moment throughout time.
If you have your Bibles with you this morning, please turn with me to Luke’s gospel, chapter 22. We will begin in verse 39 this morning.
PRAY
Jesus’ Prayer in the Garden (vv. 39-46)
Jesus’ Prayer in the Garden (vv. 39-46)
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. And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping for sorrow, and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”
Up to this point, we’ve seen a fearless, determined Jesus. In chapter 4 of Luke’s gospel, we read about Jesus’ 40 days of temptation in the wilderness where He remained immutable. This was followed by His ministry in Nazareth, which started out great but ended with the crowd attempting to kill Him. He alludes the angry mob seemingly unaffected by their response.
Immediately following this, Jesus cleanses a demon possessed man with just a word: “Be silent and come out of him!” (Luke 4:35). We’ve seen a fearless and focused fervor in His teaching and preaching, including the six woes to the Scribes and Pharisees as seen in chapter 11.
Between casting out demons, healing people of many sicknesses, calming the storm, and feeding the multitude—Luke has openly revealed to the reader the power and authority of Jesus. Even up to this point, Jesus has faced His approaching death with a steady resolve; even giving warning on several occasions to His disciples.
“Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men.”
But perhaps the single most powerful verse in Luke’s gospel that reveals the steely determination of Christ to take the cross is found just seven verses later.
When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.
Once more, Jesus would foretell of His impending death just a couple of days journey from the city of Jerusalem.
And taking the twelve, he said to them, “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished. For he will be delivered over to the Gentiles and will be mocked and shamefully treated and spit upon. And after flogging him, they will kill him, and on the third day he will rise.”
Lastly, even moment before departing to the Garden to pray, we see the resolve of Christ in the Upper Room as He was bringing forth the New Covenant.
And when the hour came, he reclined at table, and the apostles with him. And he said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.”
However, once in the Garden, we see a very real human response to His impending death. Mark’s parallel account here provides a bit more detail to the moment.
And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. And he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.”
The term “greatly distressed” here is translated in the KJV as “sore amazed” and it means “to be thrown into terror or amazement.” It may be hard for us to fathom this kind of emotional depth to a situation, but we know it must have been great because verse 43 tells us that He has provided supernatural, heavenly strength by the appearance of an angel.
So great was Christ’s distress that He was approaching death’s doorstep. Gathering Mark and Luke’s account together we see how great His distress truly was. His soul was “very sorrowful, even to death” and “his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”
In His humanity, Jesus’ body responded to His great distress in a very human way. He became greatly distressed and in tremendous agony over the very near future.
As John MacArthur explains:
This suggests a dangerous condition known as hematidrosis, the effusion of blood in one’s perspiration. It can be caused by extreme anguish or physical strain. Subcutaneous capillaries dilate and burst, mingling blood with sweat. Christ Himself stated that His distress had brought Him to the threshold of death.
This is a very interesting point in Jesus’ life on earth. Up to this point, He has faced everything—including His impending death—with great resolve and determination. He’s been utterly fearless in the face of demonic forces, in the face of religious leaders, in the midst of a great storm. But now, He is very sorrowful, greatly distressed, in severe agony over what awaits Him.
And yes, I understand that death awaited Him, and for many this would cause a similar reaction. But for many others, they have faced their death with tranquility, some even welcoming it. Even some of the apostles would face their death with seemingly more resolve than Jesus here in the Garden. Why is that? In fact, this very question was used by the pagan Celsus as an argument against Christianity. He asked, “How can one who is divine ‘mourn and lament and pray to escape the fear of death?’”
The answer in its simplest form is that Jesus was awaiting something far darker and greater than just a physical death. First of all, Jesus fully understood that the “wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23), and that He would be paying the wages of all mankind’s sin in full.
Second, He fully understood that that death was a result of judgment from God and He would bear the full weight of that judgment. Third, as Paul would later explain, Jesus knew that He would become sin.
For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
Lastly, Jesus understood also that He would be the full propitiation for our sin.
He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.
The word propitiation means appeasing atonement. And Jesus knew that in His death He would be the fulfilling atonement for all mankind. And it is because of this—not just the physical death that awaited Him—but the entire culmination of what awaited Him in that death that filled Him with agony and distress. All in all, this may be one of the greatest pictures we have of Jesus’ humanity.
But it is in His agony and distress that Jesus approaches the throne of the Father in prayer. Regardless of circumstance, Jesus’ spiritual life is one that is always in touch with the Father in prayer.
And His prayer recorded here in Luke’s gospel is incredibly intimate and entirely simplistic. Luke records one sentence; one request. Let us take a look at verses 41-42.
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.”
Jesus’ prayer begins in the very same manner in which He taught His disciples to pray—with the title of Father. It is an intimate cry, and a very interesting one, since Jesus is both fully God and fully man. R. Kent Hughes explains this by stating:
Jesus began with the expression “Father,” which calls to mind his relationship with the One to whom he prayed, and also the character of that One. Though Jesus is God and is coeternal and coequal with God, he exists in relation to the Father as Son. They have always existed in eternal, perpetual, unbroken relationship.
We see this relationship in John’s opening portion of His gospel account.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.
New Testament scholar Philip Jensen said, “Basically, prayer is offered to the Father, through the Spirit, by the Son—because it is the role of the Father to protect.” It should also be noted that Jesus’ use of Father is also a sign of submission. This is the desire of the Son in relationship to the Father.
And he who sent me is with me. He has not left me alone, for I always do the things that are pleasing to him.”
And it is ultimately Christ’s submission that makes this such a beautifully heartbreaking prayer. What was to befall Jesus was not a punishment He deserved, and yet this was His mission, His purpose—to bear the sins of many.
Also, I believe it is important to note that Jesus says, “Father, if you are willing…” Not “If you are able…” There is a very significant difference. The Father is entirely able. Jesus even said earlier in Luke’s gospel (18:27), “What is impossible with man is possible with God.” God can do anything!
This is a very real and a very understandable prayer by Jesus here in the Garden. “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me.” If there is any capability within Your will to have this pass from me, let it be so.”
It is also significant, I believe, that this is not a command or a demand by Jesus. He doesn’t say, “Father, remove this cup from me.” That middle portion—if you are willing—changes the whole feel of the prayer; the whole heart of the prayer. It reveals the reality of Christ’s emotion—sorrowful and filled with agony. But it also reveals submission and humility.
The author of Hebrews tells us that our High Priest (Jesus) is able to sympathize with us in our weakness (speaking to our temptations). But it is this prayer that further helps me realize that Jesus understands our sorrow, our pain, our struggle, our agony because He experienced it beyond anything any of us can comprehend.
The request “to remove this cup from me”—as Leon Morris explains—was grounded in the reality of Jesus’ sinless purity and that the cup was filled with sin and wrath. Even though Jesus had just declared the New Covenant in His blood in the Upper Room, His body was revulsed at the horrors that awaited Him. But the prayer doesn’t end there, does it?
Jesus continues, “Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” As one author so poignantly put it, “Jesus was caught between two proper desires.” It is right to want to avoid death, alienation, and wrath. It is also right to want to do God’s will, regardless of the cost.
This short recorded prayer of Jesus is one of my favorite moments in all the Gospels because it also teaches us how to pray in the midst of great conflict within our souls.
Life is filled with many sorrows, and many struggles. Our own church body has walked through those valleys, and we’ve prayed for miracles; we’ve prayed for a cup of sorts to be removed from us. But it is the second sentence of Jesus’ prayer that teaches us how to pray. “Lord, I ask that you would work a miracle here in this moment here and now. Father, I know you are fully able and fully capable to do so. Nevertheless, let not my will but Your will be done.”
For Jesus, the sentence could continue by stating, “Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done—even if Your will is for me to bear the sin and wrath of all mankind upon my own shoulders and to be murdered upon the cross.”
That cry—Your will be done—is the cry of a conqueror. And I say this because 1 John 2:17 tells us that “whoever does the will of God abides forever.” Even though Jesus greatly wanted the cup to pass from Him, He desired one thing even more and that was the Father’s will.
Was Jesus’ prayer heard? Yes, though his request was denied. The writer of Hebrews, apparently referring explicitly to Gethsemane, comments, “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence” (Hebrews 5:7). His submission was, “Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” That is the prayer God answers. Jesus’ prayer was a prayer of great faith because he trusted the Father with everything. All true prayers of faith end with, “not my will, but yours, be done.”
This moment of Jesus’ prayer is surrounded by the failure of His disciples. Earlier Judas left to betray Jesus, the others argued about who was greatest, and Jesus foretold Peter of his coming denials.
And now, while Jesus is in agony of what is to come, He finds His disciples asleep.
And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping for sorrow, and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”
Through prayer, Jesus is now ready to face Caiaphas, and the Sanhedrin, and Pilate, and Herod, and the executioners. But what of His disciples?
He finds them taking a turkey nap. Perhaps the Passover meal had filled them up and now they were sleepy. Maybe the emotions of the night have worn them out. Possibly they just didn’t feel like praying. It is interesting to note that earlier in the evening, they seemed so ready to fight God’s war with weapons—after all, they had not one but TWO swords!
But when it came to the most essential weapon in the spiritual war—being prayer—they stumbled. Part of me believes that the disciples certainly didn’t fully grasp the weight of the moment, and if they had then surely they would have done as Jesus commanded them. Charles Spurgeon writes,
When you feel disinclined to pray, let it be a sign to you that prayer is doubly necessary! Pray for prayer!
Charles Spurgeon
Jesus’ entire life and ministry is an example to us of a powerful life of prayer. Often it tells us that Jesus would get up early to find a desolate place to pray. Here in Luke’s gospel it tells us that coming to the Mount of Olives to pray “was his custom.”
His life of prayer was exemplary and habitual. We may not have the Garden of Gethsemane, but each of us have the opportunity and ability to find a place consistently to pray. I recently got back into golfing, and since then, I can proudly say my prayer life has increased greatly.
Before every tee shot, I simply pray, “Dear Father, I ask that you help me find this ball after I hit it. Amen.”
But in all seriousness, I love that we see that regardless of the situation at hand, Jesus’ habit never changes. Whether He was in high spirits or brought low in agony and sorrow, He did what was His custom, and He prayed.
I think often times for those of us that struggle to make prayer a consistency in our lives, it really comes down to priorities. Edward McKendree Bounds said:
Other duties become pressing and absorbing and crowd out prayer. ‘Choked to death’ would be the coroner’s verdict in many cases of dead praying if an inquest could be secured on this dire, spiritual calamity.
Edward McKendree Bounds (American Methodist Episcopal Minister)
For Jesus, prayer was everything. Everything in His life and in His ministry flowed from His heart of prayer and being in tune with the Father’s will. He never lost focus of prayer, and may it also be so with us.
So Jesus teaches us through His example here, not only the importance of prayer, but also the consistency of prayer. And He also reveals the heart and depth of prayer; because prayer is so much more than just content—it isn’t just us passing along a “to do list” to God in our lives. Prayer is a process of relationship with God.
We also learn from Jesus here that prayer is the means by which we learn to submit and walk in God’s will. “Not my will, but yours be done.”
I often wonder in Jesus’ humanity how easily or difficult did those words roll off the tongue? Likely it rolled off very easily for Jesus because we see that this was ultimately His heart’s greatest desire. Yes, His humanity recoiled at the grotesque reality of what awaited Him at the cross—not just a physical death, but also the weight of mankind’s sin upon His shoulders. So clearly He desired the cup to pass from Him if the Father was willing. But the greater desire is seen in the second statement: Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done. “Yes, Father, I would desire this cup to pass from me if there is another way. But ultimately, my greatest desire is to see Your will be done, and if this is the way it must be done, I will boldly and obediently take the cross.”
I know in my own humanity, my own flesh—the struggle against my own selfish desires—that the prayer, “Not my will, but yours, be done,” can be very difficult to pray. Because my will is easy. My will is pain-free. My will is most often comfort and ease.
And I’ve learned that many times with God’s will, that is not the case. At times, God’s will may walk us through valleys of sorrow and grief and confusion and pain and suffering and seasons of frustration. And this isn’t because God dislikes us or because “we deserve it.” But I have come to learn that with God’s will there is meaning to those seasons of struggle.
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
The late, great R.C. Sproul points our suffering towards the sovereignty of God. He says,
Those who understand God’s sovereignty have joy even in the midst of suffering, a joy reflected on their very faces, for they see that their suffering is not without purpose.
R. C. Sproul
That is what we must ALWAYS understand: our suffering is not without purpose. Because purposeless suffering would be at the hands of a loveless god. And our God is the epitome of perfect love.
Jesus’ suffering was not without purpose. I cannot fathom the heart of the Father in the moment of that prayer; knowing His Son was on the precipice of deep anguish and suffering. But also knowing this was His will.
There are many fathers here this morning, and I imagine their hearts desire is to answer the hopeful requests of their children. I can’t remember the teacher, but I feel the same way as they taught it. They said (paraphrase), “As a father, I desire to give my children everything that they need, and most of what they want.”
And if my heart (which is deeply flawed and marked by sin) desires these things, how much greater does the heart of the Perfect Father desire such things? This is what Paul writes about in His letter to the Romans.
He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?
We also see in Jesus’ prayer in the Garden the example for us of a heart fully submitted to God. Jesus never deviated from the will of the Father.
So Jesus said to them, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he, and that I do nothing on my own authority, but speak just as the Father taught me. And he who sent me is with me. He has not left me alone, for I always do the things that are pleasing to him.”
Such a beautiful submission seen within the Godhead. As Charles Williams notes,
The Son is co-equal with the Father, yet the Son is obedient to the Father. A thing so sweetly known in many relations of human love is, beyond imagination, present in the midmost secrets of heaven.
Our submission is our entrance into this sweet joy.
Within this text, not only do we learn the practice of prayer and the heart of submission, but we also see within Jesus’ command to His disciples that the secret to not succumbing to temptation is found in prayer.
He tells them, “Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.” We also know that we will not be tempted beyond what we can bear.
No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.
The reason we fall into temptation is that, like the disciples we are asleep. Maybe not physically but spiritually.
Lastly, as we close, we ought to realize that this was the cost of our sin. In the Garden, the perfect Son pleads with the perfect Father, “If you are willing, remove this cup from me.” And if there was another way, I believe the Father would have willed it, but since there was not, He willed His Son’s death.
I think it is important for us to come to grips with the cost of OUR sin. It should never be taken lightly or for granted. I think R. Kent Hughes puts it perfectly. He says,
What a blasphemous affront to God to think that sin does not matter!
What an outrage to imagine that we are good enough for God to accept us!
What a cosmic affront to hold that there is any way apart from Jesus!
What a slur to say that God does not care about us!
See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.
What kind of love, indeed. Not only does this passage teach us how to pray—with consistency and in submission to God. It also reveals to us the love God has for you and for me. Please, never doubt if you are loved; for you are more loved than you could ever comprehend.
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.
PRAY
