128. Wednesday after First Sunday in Lent.
Wake us, Lord Jesus; wake us, and keep us awake with thee. Amen.
Matthew 26, 39-46. And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me! nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt. And he cometh unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What! could ye not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. He went away again the second time, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done. And he came and found them asleep again: for their eyes were heavy. And he left them, and went away again, and prayed the third time, saying the same words. Then cometh he to his disciples, and saith unto them, Sleep on now, and take your rest, behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that doth betray me.
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When the old Testament high priest was to carry the blood of atonement into the holy of holies he enveloped himself in frankincense, burning with fire from the altar in the sanctuary. Christ, our high priest, does the like in Gethsemane. — Man has a dread of death; and here Jesus is confronted by death with all its terrors of whatever kind, death and condemnation in the stead of us all. His pure nature must of necessity shrink from the pains of death and hell; and this he expresses in the prayer: “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” The baptism with which he is to be baptized is so terrible that, in his dread of it, even he, the only Chosen One, our Immanuel, sweats drops of blood. O sin and hell, how dreadful are you! The Lord spoke to the Father exactly what he felt. His terrible dread of death was a necessary part of his atoning passion. This he must suffer; and hence he cannot pray otherwise than he does: “If it be possible that the world can be saved by other means, let it be done; take this cup from me. If thou, Father, canst forgive me the iniquity of the world, which now is my iniquity, without my dying for it, let it be done.” But even here, in the greatest possible temptation, his human will bows down before the will of the Father in the deepest, fullest obedience. How perfect a high priest we have; but O how terrible a battle he wages for us! “He offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard in that he feared.” (Hebrews 5, 7). Was, then, the cup taken from him? No; it is necessary that the demands of justice be satisfied; but we see from the words of the Holy Spirit in the epistle to the Hebrews, as we hear it in the Lord’s own words also, that what he pleads for first and last is the will of the Father. It becomes clear to him what this will is. He emerges out of the terrible struggle, out of the sweating of blood and the baptism of agony, out of the mists of death; and then he sees clearly that it is the Father who has poured out the cup for him; the angel is able to show him this truth, and then the victory is won. With the fearlessness of the strong lion the timid Lamb now goes to his death willingly and with perfect patience. — But what shall I say? How unutterably great is the love with which he loves us! How infinitely high is the price for which he bought us! Can you hear that which transpires in Gethsemane, and yet despise his grace? Satan has bewitched the world, alas; but I adore thee, Lord Jesus, and thank thee for thy agony, for thy bloody sweat, for thy victory over the devil, here and everywhere. I thank thee for thy burning offering of prayer; and I will fight with patience, suffer without complaint, and renounce all my own will for thy sake. Grant me grace to do this; O give me this grace, Lord Jesus. Amen.
What thou, my Lord, hast suffered
Was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But thine the deadly pain;
Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
’Tis I deserve thy place;
Look on me with thy favor,
Vouchsafe to me thy grace.