When Judas left the upper room, disappearing into the darkness, the Lord was not merely aware of the purpose of his departure, he knew that his own death was drawing ever nearer.
His hour had come. He was the unblemished lamb which was to be sacrificed for the sin of the world.
To Gethsemane
While the knowledge of Judas’ treachery was shared by Peter and John, they could not have foreseen how the betrayal would be carried out. As we know, our Lord, accompanied by the eleven, went to the garden of Gethsemane. Judas was well aware that Jesus resorted thither from time to time, for the garden provided a quiet retreat from the noise and bustle of the city (see John 18:2). During the ministry, Peter, James and John had come to occupy a special place among the apostles, and it was they the Lord took with him when he went to pray to his Father (Matt. 26:37).
A major change
While, indeed, he would be glad of the company of these faithful followers, his communion was to be with the Father alone. The events in the garden have a special significance for our understanding of our Lord’s humanity. Throughout his ministry, he had thought and lived upon a higher plane than the apostles. Furthermore, he had been protected by a vigilant providence. No one had been able to lay a hand on him. When the small-minded and irate citizens of Nazareth endeavoured to take hold of him to kill him, he had no difficulty in eluding them (Lk. 4:30). Later we read that his enemies sought to lay hands on him, but in vain, for his hour was not yet come (John 7:30). Even in Gethsemane, when Peter made his clumsy and ill-advised attempt at protecting his Lord (see John 18:10), Jesus could have called upon the assistance of more than 12 legions of angels (cf. Matt. 26:53).
Now, at this final Passover, the situation was to change. When he left Caesarea on the removal from Galilee, he knew he was going to the cross (see Luke 9:51). Our Lord had carried the knowledge of his crucifixion for a long time; so many of the graphic details of the trials that awaited him had been revealed in passages in the Old Testament he must have read time and time again. These were details which did not make pleasant reading.
He knew what was coming
Isaiah 53 is illustrative; verse 5 speaks in clear terms of the price of our redemption: it mentions the wounds, the bruising, the chastisement, the stripes, all of which were to find their harrowing counterpart in our Lord’s experience. Earlier in Isaiah, we read about the indignities which our Lord was to suffer and we learn they were to be accepted in humility, without protestation: ‘I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair: I hid not my face from shame and spitting” (Isa. 50:6 RV as all quotes). As all students of these matters know, other details of the experiences which awaited the Lord may be found in Psalms 22 and 69 and others.
Yet if all that was written was finally to be accepted without protestation, but in humble submission, the record of Gethsemane shows that it was not without hesitation.
Appeal to the Father
What was the essential problem? Indeed, what awaited the Lord in terms of physical suffering, humiliation and injustice could not have appealed to his human nature. But now his Father wanted him to die in this manner. Some have been outraged at this suggestion. It was not God who wanted the cross for His Son, but men, and God used this knowledge to achieve thereby our salvation. How could God have possibly desired His Son to die in so cruel and unjust a manner? While we can understand the problem, the witness of Gethsemane is clear: “0 my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass away from me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt” (Mat. 26:39) It was the Father’s will that was to prevail.
Our Lord understood his life would need to be surrendered in obedience to his Father’s behest. So much is made clear by an earlier statement by our Lord: “Therefore doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This commandment received I from my Father” (John 10:17-18). The latter part of the statement makes it evident that in the surrender of his life the Son would be carrying out a commandment from his Father. The statement makes it equally clear that the surrender of his life would be a voluntary act. Our Lord’s intense desire was to please his Father.
His humanity was real
Furthermore, at least three important considerations would weigh with our Lord. He knew the surrender of his life was temporary; he knew, in the light of Psalm 110 that he was going to the Father to sit at His right hand (see Matt. 22:43-45); finally, he knew the reconciliation of the world was involved. None knew better than himself the meaning of the great pronouncement by the Apostle: “…God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself’ (II Cor. 5:19).
We may well reflect in the light of all this, “Why did our Lord recoil before the prospect of the cross?” Surely, if he had, with his foreknowledge of the circumstances which awaited him, been able to take everything in his stride, might we not conclude that he did not really bear our nature?
None reflected more often and more deeply on the meaning of the cross than the Apostle Paul. In those few words recorded in Philippians 2 he expresses his own sense of wonder at his Saviour’s humble obedience: “And being found in fashion as a man [i.e. in spite of being a human being], he humbled himself, becoming obedient even unto death, yea, the death of the cross” (v. 8). By those words, “he humbled himself,” Paul shows that the Lord’s human will had to be brought into subjection, a fundamental truth which is confirmed by certain well-known passages in Hebrews: “Though he was a Son, yet learned [he] obedience by the things which he suffered” (5:8 see also 2:17-18). The reference to “strong crying and tears” in Hebrews 5:7 does indeed seem an echo of Gethsemane.
Depth of his anguish
The accounts in the first three gospels portray vividly the anguish of decision experienced by the Lord. Matthew tells us that the Lord himself spoke of his feeling of “exceeding sorrow” and records that he prostrated himself on his face (26:38,39 details which are confirmed in Mark 14:34,35). Luke’s is the most graphic and moving account, for he alone speaks of the sweat like great drops of blood falling down upon the ground (22:44). It is Luke, too, who indicates that the Lord’s travail of soul was not a matter of indifference to his Father, for “there appeared unto him an angel from heaven, strengthening him” (v. 43). We do well from time to time to dwell on the details of what happened in Gethsemane. It is a sobering and chastening exercise.
When the decision was made
It is profoundly true to our human experience that while the process of decision can be an agonizing experience, as we weigh up the consequences of what lies before us, once the decision has been made, the mind can be at peace. This is wonderfully illustrated in the case of our Lord. Once he had determined in Gethsemane to do God’s will, and not his own, his whole demeanour was marked by its wonderful calm. The apostles fled in terror. The Jewish leaders behaved in a deplorable manner. Pilate vacillated, but marveled at the composure shown by the prisoner before him (Matt. 27:14).
From all this, we can learn perhaps the greatest of all lessons: when we can bring ourselves to submit our own rebellious spirit to God’s will, we are strengthened thereby. Our Lord suffered indignities, injustice, cruel pain, but he triumphed over all.
Let us then look “unto Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame” (Heb. 12:2).
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One