127. Tuesday after First Sunday in Lent.
“For their sakes I sanctify myself, that they also might be sanctified through the truth.”
John 18, 1. 2. Mark 14, 32-34. When Jesus had spoken these words, he went forth with his disciples over the brook Cedron, where was a garden, into the which he entered, and his disciples. And Judas also, which betrayed him, knew the place: for Jesus ofttimes resorted thither with his disciples. And they came to a place which was named Gethsemane: and he saith to his disciples, Sit ye here, while I shall pray. And he taketh with him Peter and James and John, and began to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy; and saith unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto death: tarry ye here and watch.
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They come to “Gethsemane.” The name means oil-press; and here is he who “treads the press alone” (Isaiah 63, 3). The disciples are to remain at the entrance to the garden. Only three of them are to go with him farther on into Gethsemane: Peter, who imagines himself more ready than the others to die with him, and the sons of Zebedee, who have said that they can drink of the cup of which he is to drink (Mark 14, 31; 10, 38. 39). But the time arrives when it is the will of the Father that he shall be alone, and be encompassed about by the appalling terrors of death; and then none, not even one, of these three, may or can follow him farther. He is to be without comfort and without help; alone he is to suffer the death agony of all the world, suffer in our stead the damnation which we had deserved; he, and he alone, is to taste of death for us all. And now the time is come; now Satan is permitted to assail him with all the terrors of hell and all the horrors at the command of the prince of death. Then he begins to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy. The trembling Savior now felt as shall the wicked, when, having left all hope behind, they quake at the final judgment and in unutterable anguish hang on the lips of the Judge, which open to pronounce the inevitable curse on them. Not until that day of wrath without a morrow shall it be revealed to us what Jesus suffered in Gethsemane. Struggling with the terror of hell and death, his racked soul writhes in voiceless agony, and sustains itself by means of those Psalms of which the echo is heard in the moan: “My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto death.” (Psalm 22, 15; 40, 12). — It is my death and yours which he feels; it is the sin of the world which weighs him down. The only begotten Son of God, the Holy and Righteous One, lies here prostrate in the dust, weeping and moaning, and finding no comfort. In most agonizing terror, in utterly unspeakable agony of death, he writhes on the ground like a worm. “He is bruised for our iniquities.” The Father surrenders his Son to condemnation in our stead, and permits the prince of darkness to deal with him according to his pleasure and our deserts. It is the death of fallen, ungodly, lost and condemned humanity, the death of all sinners, which is suffered by the Lamb without blemish. O, how his heart is compassed about with sorrow, how his soul is stricken with dread, as he is to descend into the most agonizing pangs of everlasting perdition! Lord Jesus, what shall I say? I have no words, I have not a heart worthy of thee; but thou hast bought even me with thy precious blood, and I will bless thee forevermore. Amen.
When no eye its pity gave us,
When there was no arm to save us,
Christ his love and power displayed;
By his stripes he wrought our healing,
By his death, our life revealing,
He for us the ransom paid.
Jesus, may thy love constrain us,
That from sin we may refrain us,
In thy griefs may deeply grieve;
Thee our best affections giving,
To thy glory ever living,
May we in thy glory live.