Jesus was a pleader

JESUS WAS A PLEADER
EDITED BY GLENN PEASE
Mark 14:36 And he said, Abba, Father, all things are
possibleunto thee; remove this cup from me: howbeit
not what I will, but what thou wilt.—.
GreatTexts of the Bible
The Prayerin Gethsemane
At the close ofhis accountof the Temptation, St. Luke tells us that then the
devil left our Lord for a season. Doubtless there was no time throughout His
life—which indeed was one victory over evil—in which that greatadversary
left Him wholly unassailed;but the words lead us to look for some special
manifestation of his malice,—some sequelto his first desperate attempt,—
some last struggle with his Conqueror. Nor is the expectationvain. The Agony
in the garden is in many respects the natural correlative to the Temptation. In
this we see Christ’s human will proved to be in perfectharmony with the
righteous will of God, just as in that His sense and souland spirit were found
subjectedto the higher laws of life and devotion and providence. The points of
similarity betweenthem are numerous and striking. The Temptation occurred
directly after the public recognitionof our Lord’s Messiahshipat His
Baptism: the Agony was separatedonly by a few days from His triumphal
entry into the Holy City. The Temptation precededthe active work of our
Lord’s prophetic ministry: the Agony usheredin the final scenes ofHis
priestly offering. The Temptation was endured in the savage wastesofthe
wilderness:the Agony in the silent shades of the night. Thrice under various
pleas did Satandare to approach the Saviour: thrice now does the Saviour

approachHis Father with a prayer of unutterable depth. When the
Temptation was over, angels came and ministered to Him who had met Satan
face to face:during the Agony an angelwas seenstrengthening Him who
fought with death, knowing all its terrors. But there are also differences
betweenthe two events which give to eachtheir peculiar meaning and
importance for us, though they are thus intimately connected. At the first our
Lord was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted: at the last He
retired into the garden to seek the presence of God. At the first He went alone
to meet man’s enemy: at the last He takes with Him three loved disciples to
watchand pray while He approaches His Father. At the first Satanlures Him
to gratify eachelement of His nature: at the last he endeavours to oppress
Him by fear. At the first our Lord repels the Tempter with the language of
invincible majesty: at the last He seems to sink under a burden—like the cross
which He sooncarried—too heavy for Him to bear.
The prayer contains:—
His Assurance of the Father’s Ability
His Petition
His Acceptance ofthe Father’s Will
It is introduced by the invocation, “Abba, Father”;and it leads to a
considerationof Christ in Prayer.
The Invocation

“Abba, Father.”
1. The combination, “Abba, Father,” occurs three times in the New
Testament, with a meaning which is the same every time but is not fully
understood until the three occasionsare studied separatelyand then brought
together. The three occasionsare these:(1) By Jesus in Gethsemane. The
words are: “And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee;
remove this cup from me: howbeit not what I will, but what thou wilt” (Mark
14:36). (2) By St. Paul, in writing to the Galatians. The words are: “But when
the fulness of the time came, God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born
under the law, that he might redeem them which were under the law, that we
might receive the adoption of sons. And because ye are sons, God sent forth
the Spirit of his Soninto our hearts, crying, Abba, Father” (Galatians 4:4-6).
(3) By St. Paul, to the Romans. The words are: “Forye receivednot the spirit
of bondage again unto fear; but ye receivedthe Spirit of adoption, whereby
we cry Abba, Father. The Spirit himself beareth witness with our spirit, that
we are children of God: and if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-
heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also
glorified with him” (Romans 8:15-17).
Take the thoughts in order—
(1) Here are all the persons concernedin redemption: (a) the Father, to whom
the cry is made; (b) the Son, who makes the cry for Himself in Gethsemane;
(c) the Spirit of the Son, who makes it in the heart of the other sons;(d) the
sons themselves, who, under the powerof the Spirit, cry, “Abba, Father.”
(2) The cry is the cry of a son to a father. That in every case is the whole point
and meaning of it. In one case it is the cry of the Only-begotten Son; in the
other cases itis the cry of the adopted sons. But it is always the cry of a son

who has the heart of a son. An adopted son might not have the heart of a son.
But in eachcase here the Father says, “Mybeloved son”; and the son
responds, crying, “Abba, Father.”
(3) The true heart of a son, whereby we cry, “Abba, Father,” is due to the gift
of the Spirit. Look at St. Paul’s argument to the Galatians. There he states two
things: first, that when the fulness of time came, Godsent forth His Son into
the world; second, that because we are sons, God sent forth the Spirit of His
Son into our hearts.1 [Note:Expository Times, xx. 358.]
2. Our Lord’s appeal to God as “Father” was evidence that He was not, even
then, forsakenin His humanity. He experiencedthe deep depression, the
spiritual eclipse, the midnight darkness, under which we may speak as if
utterly desolate. Buta, feeling of forsakennessis no proof of the reality. As the
sun is not altered when eclipsed, so God was as near in Gethsemane as on the
Mount of Transfiguration. The Sufferer expressed this confidence when
calling on Him as “Father.” Godhas forsakenno one who utters this cry. The
appeal is the response to His own call. If as a child I say, “My Father,” He as
Father has already said, “My child.” Mourning after an absentGod is an
evidence of love as strong as rejoicing in a presentone.
Speak to me, my God;
And let me know the living Father cares
For me, even me; for this one of His choice.
Hast Thou no word for me? I am Thy thought.

God, let Thy mighty heart beat into mine,
And let mine answeras a pulse to Thine.
See, I am low; yea, very low; but Thou
Art high, and Thou canstlift me up to Thee.
I am a child, a fool before Thee, God;
But Thou hast made my weaknessas my strength.
I am an emptiness for Thee to fill;
My soul, a cavern for Thy sea.
“Thou makestme long,” I said, “therefore wilt give;
My longing is Thy promise, O my God.”1 [Note:George Macdonald.]
I

His Assurance of the Father’s Ability
“All things are possible unto thee.”
The words are without reservationand they must be acceptedunreservedly.
All things are possible to God always. There is no question of His powerunder
any circumstances.The only question is as to His will. “All things are possible
unto thee.”
It was so with our Lord on earth. “If thou wilt,” said the leper, “thou canst
make me clean.” His answerwas, “Iwill.” Whereupon the leprosy departed
from the man.
This is a most comfortable doctrine. There is nothing impossible with God.
We never have to do with a baffled, helpless God. He is always able. And so,
as the only doubt we canever have about Him is His willingness, we know that
whateverwe do not receive is something that would not be goodfor us to
receive. Forwe know that His will is to do us good. We know that He will
never withhold any goodthing from them that love Him.
The cup which was put into the hands of our Lord in Gethsemane was so
bitter that if He had not known absolutelythat all things are possible to God,
He would have thought that the Father could not help offering it. And that is
actually how we look upon it. There was no other way, we say. We limit God’s
resources.We curtail God’s power. We may say that there was no better way;
for that is self-evident. He took this way of redeeming us because it was the
best way—the way of love. But if it were not that His will always is for the
best—the best for us and the best for our Saviour—who can tell that He

would not have chosenanother waythan this strange way of agonyand bitter
tears?
It was the best way for our Saviour. When He was able to say, “Notmy will
but thine,” He entered into rest. He despisedthe shame. And it is the best way
for us. “Father, if it be possible,” we say. But let us never, never end with that.
For it is possible if it is His will. Let us always add—“Nevertheless,notmy will
but thine be done.”
II
His Petition
“Remove this cup from me.”
What was the Cup? In considering this question, says E. L. Hull, we have to
take accountof two things at the outset:
(1) On the one hand, we must never forgetthat the suffering of Christ is a
mystery too profound for us ever fully to understand. The very fact that the
Divine One could suffer is, in itself, beyond our comprehension. The fact that
Christ’s sufferings were vicarious, invests them with still deeper darkness.
That in Christ the Divine was manifested in a human form, and was thus
connectedwith the human, is the source of the profoundest mystery in His
sufferings. We know that in man the soul and body mysteriously affecteach
other; that the agonyof the spirit will, by some inexplicable method, shatter
the material frame; but what effectthe manifestationof Divinity had on a frail
human body we can never understand. Thus it must not be forgotten that the

sufferings of Christ as the Divine Man are veiled in impenetrable darkness,
and form a subject which must be approached with deepestawe. The man
who boldly speculates onthis has lostall reverence, while he who stands
before it in reverential love will be able partly to comprehend its mystery.
(2) The secondpoint is, that while the sufferings of Christ are awfully
mysterious, we may obtain some dim insight into their characterand source
by considering that, though Divine, Christ was also perfectly human—subject
to all the sinless laws of our nature. We are spirits in human forms; we know
how the spiritual cansuffer in the material, and have thus one requisite for
forming a feeble conceptionof the source of the Saviour’s sufferings.
Luther was once questionedat table concerning the “bloody sweat” andthe
other deep spiritual sufferings which Christ endured in the Garden. Then he
said: “No man can know or conceive whatthat anguish must have been. If any
man beganeven to experience suchsuffering, he must die. You know many do
die of sicknessofheart! for heart-anguish is indeed death. If a man could feel
such anguish and distress as Christ felt, it would be impossible for him to
endure it, and for his soul to remain in his body. Soul and body would part.
To Christ alone was this agonypossible, and it wrung from Him ‘sweatwhich
was as greatdrops of blood.’ ”1 [Note: Watchwords from Luther, 17.]
1. Was the Cup the physical pain of His sufferings? He endured physical
anguish to a degree inconceivable by us; for if it be true that the more
sensitive the spirit the more it weakens the bodily frame—that intense and
protracted thought diminishes its vigour—that mental labours waste its
energy and render it susceptible of the keenestsuffering, then we may well
suppose that Christ in the agony of the garden and the cross endured physical
suffering to an inconceivable degree. Butapart from the frequent occasions on
which He showedthat His spirit was troubled, we may perhaps perceive that
bodily suffering was not the chief source ofHis sorrow, from one fact, namely,

that physical suffering is endurable, and by itself would not have
overwhelmed Him. Man can bear bodily anguish to almost any degree.
Granting the consciousnessofrectitude, you can devise no pain which cannot
be borne by some men.
I have been struck lately, in reading works by some writers who belong to the
Romish Church, with the marvellous love which they have towards the Lord
Jesus Christ. I did think, at one time, that it could not be possible for any to be
savedin that Church; but, often, after I have risen from reading the books of
these holy men, and have felt myself to be quite a dwarf by their side, I have
said, “Yes, despite their errors, these men must have been taught of the Holy
Spirit. Notwithstanding all the evils of which they have drunk so deeply, I am
quite certain that they must have had fellowship with Jesus, orelse they could
not have written as they did.” Such writers are few and far between;but there
is a remnant according to the electionof grace evenin the midst of that
apostate Church. Looking at a book by one of them the other day, I met with
this remarkable expression, “Shallthat body, which has a thorn-crowned
Head, have delicate, pain-fearing members? God forbid!” That remark went
straight to my heart at once.1 [Note:C. H. Spurgeon.]
2. Was the Cup the fearof Death? We cannot conceive that the overwhelming
sorrow of Jesus arose fromthe prospectof His approaching dissolution. For
the suffering of men through fear of death may be ascribedto two causes,—
either the sense ofsin, or a doubt regarding the nature of the future life. We
can well conceive how a man who has a half dread lest death may be the
extinction of being, or who knows not whether futurity will bring him
blessednessorwoe, should be overcome with a strange horror of dying. To
such a man the uncertainty is terrible, as he feels death may be but the escape
from ills that are bearable to ills that may be infinite. But we cannotsuppose
that anything like doubt or a fear of the change of death for one moment
overshadowedJesusChrist. For, take one illustration out of many, and
compare the language ofChrist with that of the apostle Paul in prospectof

dying, and we shall perceive that dread of the mere change of death could not
have affectedJesus. Paulon the very threshold of martyrdom wrote, “I am
ready to be offered.”
Celsus and Julian the Apostate contrastedJesus, sorrowing and trembling in
the garden, with Socrates, the hero of the poison cup, and with other heroes of
antiquity, greatly, of course, to the disadvantage ofthe former. “Why, then,”
said Celsus, scornfully alluding to Jesus’conflictin the garden, “does He
supplicate help, and bewail Himself and pray for escape fromthe fear of
death, expressing Himself in terms like these, ‘O Father, if it be possible, let
this cup pass from me’?” The Emperor Julian, quoted by Theodore of
Mopsuestia, uses, ifpossible, still more scornful language:“Jesus presents
such petitions as a wretched mortal would offer when unable to bear a
calamity with serenity, and although Divine, He is strengthenedby an angel.”
To these heathen philosophers Jesus, trembling and agonisedin Gethsemane,
seemedto come far short of the greatmen of classic antiquity.1 [Note:A. B.
Cameron.]
Whence did the martyrs draw their fortitude? Where did they find their
strength to meet death so bravely? Why could they look the greatenemy in
the face without flinching, even when he wore his grimmest aspect? Theywere
“strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.” His example was before
them, His spirit within them, His face above them. They saw Him standing at
the right hand of God, the Victor in His glory. They knew Him as the
conqueror of death and the greatravisher of the powerof the grave. They
passedinto the valley treading in the footprints He had left; they lookedup
through its darkness at their Leader on the mountain-top. “The Breakerhad
gone up before them,” leaving the gates open for them to pass through.2
[Note:G. A. Sowter.]
Thus every where we find our suffering God,

And where He trod
May setour steps:the Cross on Calvary
Uplifted high
Beams on the martyr host, a beaconlight
In open fight.
To the still wrestlings of the lonely heart
He doth impart
The virtue of His midnight agony,
When none was nigh,
Save God and one goodangel, to assuage
The tempest’s rage.

Mortal! if life smile on thee, and thou find
All to thy mind,
Think, who did once from Heaven to Hell descend
Thee to befriend;
So shalt Thou dare forego, atHis dear call,
Thy best, thine all.
“O Father!not my will, but Thine be done”—
So spake the Son.
Be this our charm, mellowing earth’s ruder noise
Of griefs and joys;
That we may cling for ever to Thy breast
In perfect rest!1 [Note: J. Keble, The Christian Year, 85.]

3. There are severalingredients in the Cup. They may not be all equally
evident, and when we have consideredthem all we may still be far from the
bottom of this mystery of mysteries. But it is helpful to considerthem, if it is
done reverently and self-reproachfully.
(1) The Cup was the necessityof coming into closestrelations with sinners, the
exceeding guilt of whose sin He alone was able to understand. Like the
dwellers in a city slum, they were unaware of the foul air they were breathing,
they were ignorant of the uncleanness oftheir lives. He came from the purity
and holiness of God’s throne. How could He breathe in this atmosphere? How
could He touch these defiled garments? Yet He must come into the very midst
of it. His sympathy for the sinner is not less than His loathing for the sin.
We know that the sympathy which a human spirit has with man is in
proportion to the magnitude of that spirit’s powers, and the depth of its
emotional nature. It is impossible for a human soul to sympathise with all
humanity, but the men of greatestgenius and profoundest feeling have the
strongestsympathy with the race. Men of feebler and narrower natures care
but little for those beyond the circle of their own friends, while the heart of the
patriot beats in sympathy with the sorrows ofa nation and measures the
wrongs of an age. Christ’s sympathy as the Divine Sonof Man was wide as the
world. On all who lived then, on the men of the past, on the generations ofthe
future, He looked. Forall He felt. The pity of the Infinite One throbbed in His
heart. To His ear the greatcry of the world was audible, and to His eye all the
woes ofhumanity were clear. Rise a step higher, and considerthat Jesus saw
the deep connectionbetweensuffering and sin—saw men being driven like
slaves in the chains that connectthe sin with the suffering, and at the same
time blinded by their own evil. He saw in sorrow more than sorrow. Every
tear of the weeping world and every death that broke the fair companionships
of earth, touched His sympathy, not simply by their agony, but because they
were the fruits of sin. Here we find the meaning of the sighing and sadness

with which He lookedon suffering, for, while He denouncedthe narrow
notion that eachman’s suffering springs from his own sin, yet suffering and
death were to Him the signs of man’s universal wandering from God. Rise one
step higher—a mighty step, yet one the extent of which we may faintly
apprehend. Christ knew the powerof sin just because He was free from it. He
entered into the very awfulness of transgressionbecause ofHis perfect
sympathy with man. Does this seemperplexing? Do we not know that the
purest and most compassionate menever have the keenestperceptionof the
sins of their brethren, and feelthem like a burden on their own hearts? Must
not Christ, the PerfectOne, have felt the evil of the world’s sin, as it pressed
againstHis soul, most profoundly because He was sinless?1 [Note:E. L. Hull.]
(2) This Cup of suffering was embittered by the behaviour of those for whom
He was suffering. As the wretchedvictims of debauchery will sometimes
refuse the sympathy and help of those who seek to restore them to a better
life, so Christ was despisedand rejectedby those whom He desired to redeem.
The Gentiles crucified Him; the rulers of His people condemned Him to
death; His disciples forsook Him and fled; one of them betrayed Him. He that
ate bread with Him lifted up his heel againstHim.
This is a grief which strikes deeply and keenly into the soul, in proportion to
its own elevationand purity. Such souls care not for the opposition and for the
obloquy of the stranger, or the worldly, or of those from whom nothing better
can be expected. But the real keen and piercing grief of noble minds is when
they feel that the familiar friend in whom they trusted has turned against
them, that the leader and companion on whom they leaned, as on a part of
themselves, has given way. This is, indeed, agony. Of all the dreadful
experiences ofhuman life is not this one of the darkest, the moment when the
truth may have first flashed upon us that some steadfastcharacteronwhom
we relied has broken in our hand; that in some fine spirit whom we deeply
admired has been discloseda yawning cavern of sin and wickedness?Such
was His feeling when He saw that Judas could no more be trusted; when He

saw that Peterand James and John, insteadof watching round Him, had sunk
into a deep slumber—“What, could ye not watch with me one hour?”
(3) This want of understanding of even His owndisciples drove Him into a
solitude that at such a time and to such a nature must have been very hard to
bear. Notice the words, “He went a little further.” Do you not already feel the
awful loneliness conveyedby these words:the sense ofseparation, the sense of
solitude? Jesus is approaching the solemnclimax of His life, and as He draws
near to it the solitude deepens. He has long since left the home of His mother
and His brethren, and will see it no more. He has but recently left the sacred
home of Bethany, that haven of peace where He has often rested, and where
the hands of Mary have anointed Him againstHis burial. He has even now left
the chamber of the Paschalsupper, and the sealof finality has been put upon
His earthly ministry in the drinking of the cup when He said to His disciples,
“Rememberme.” He has just left eight of His disciples at the outer gate of
Gethsemane, saying, “Stayye here while I go and pray yonder.” A few
moments later, and He parts from Peter and James and John, saying, “Tarry
ye here and watchwith me,” and He went a little further. It was but a stone’s
throw, says St. Luke, and yet an infinite gulf now lay betweenHim and them.
This loneliness of life in its common forms we all know something about. We
know, for instance, that the parting of friends is one of the commonest
experiences oflife. People come into our lives for a time; they seem
inseparable from us, and then by force of circumstances orby some slowly
widening difference of temper or opinion, or by one of those many social
forms of separationof which life is full, they slowlydrift out of our touch and
our life. “We must part, as all human creatures have parted,” wrote Dean
Swift to Alexander Pope, and there is no sadder sentence than that in human
biography. It strikes upon the earlike a knell.1 [Note: W. J. Dawson.]

But no boldness of thought and no heroism of conduct will everbe possible to
us until we have learned to stand alone and to go “a little further.” You
remember that the favourite lines of GeneralGordon, which he often quoted
in those splendid lonely days at Khartoum, were the lines takenfrom
Browning’s “Paracelsus”—
I see my way as birds their trackless way.
I shall arrive! what time, what circuit first,
I ask not: but unless Godsend His hail
Or blinding fireballs, sleetor stifling snow,
In some time, His goodtime, I shall arrive:
He guides me and the bird.
4. But there is a greatersorrow here. In some way, mysterious but most
assured, He had to make the guilt of the sin of mankind His own. He had to
take the sinner’s place—his place as a sinner—and acceptthe burden of his
sinfulness. His agonybecomes intelligible only when we acceptHis own
explanation of all His suffering and woe, that He had come to give His life a
ransom for many, and to shed His blood for the remission of their sins. In
other words, He had come to make the sins of others His own, and to suffer
and die as if He had committed them, and as if the guilt and the penalty of
them were His.

How Jesus couldassume and have this personalrelation to sins not His own is
the realmystery here. It must ever be, like much else in His Divine human
being, largely beyond our finite thought. It goes so far to explain it that He
was the Son of Man, and that in this unique characterHe could be for men
what no other could possibly be. As the God-man He was relatedto humanity,
to its burden and its destiny, as no other could be. He was its head and
representative. As such He could, while sinless Himself, make the sin, the
agony, and the conflict of our fallen race His own. The suffering and the death
which this involved He as the secondAdam underwent, not for His own sake,
but for the sake ofhumanity, that all might issue in salvation. Thus far the
Incarnation throws light upon Gethsemane and Calvary. It did not merely
add another to the number of our race, but it gave a new Divine centre or
head to it, and one in whose personalhistory the agonyand conflict of
humanity because of sin might be endured and brought to the victory of
redemption.
It affords us, also, a new revelation of God, showing Him in the glory of His
grace. We canunderstand charity and self-denying beneficence meeting the
results of evil in this world—the poverty, misery, and suffering it has
caused—withtheir bounty and all the services and forms of self-sacrifice
possible to them; but here is philanthropy on the Sonof Man’s part going so
far as to deal with the evil itself and all its demerit and guiltiness, its relations
to the moral order of the universe, and to the claims and glory of God. For
Divine love to relate itself to human need and suffering, and to multiply its
offices of charity in relieving them is a greatthing; but for Divine love to
clothe itself with the shame and guilt of the sufferers and make their cause its
own is another and an infinitely greaterthing. For God’s Son to come into the
midst of suffering men that He might share their ills and sorrows, andprovide
them with comforts and abatements, would reveal a beautiful compassionand
beneficence. Butfor Him to descendfrom His Divine throne, stepinto the
sinner’s place, and suffer Himself to be numbered with the transgressors,

bearing their burden and blame—this is grace beyond all we canconceive of
grace.
5. But what is it that makes it so hard for Him to have to take the sinner’s
place? It is that the sinner is an outcastfrom God. Sin has broken the
communion. And now He who was spokenof as the beloved Son has to bear
the Father’s displeasure and feel the unutterable pain of separation. No
wonder He prayed, “Father, glorify thou me with the glory which I had with
thee before the world was.” Forthat glory was to be loved by the Father: “For
thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world.” The Father loves Him
still and will glorify Him again. But now He feels that He is about to be
separated. One with the sinner in his sin, He must feelthat He is separate
from the Fatherin His holiness. The Agony in the Garden is the cry on the
cross—“MyGod, my God, why hast thou forsakenme?” It casts its dark
shadow before. If He accepts the Cup now He will go through it all, even
though when the moment comes that cry may yet be wrung from Him.
Imagine the evil of the world being felt by Him as a mighty burden, and that
feeling gathering and deepening until over His frail humanity it rolled like a
flood,—the sense of the world’s sin cleaving to Him, the sense of the world’s
woe rousing Him to compassiontill its mighty mass seemedto be tearing Him
from God, and the awful cry came at last, “Why hast thou forsakenme?” Add
to this the mystery of His Divinity—the Divine capacity of sorrow within the
human form—and who can tell what suffering His soul knew? Who can tell
the horror of darkness and the shuddering agonyof pity that thrilled Him as
the cry burst forth, “O my Father, let this cup pass from me”?
To bear the weight of sin, and by it to feel cut off from the communion with
God which is Life Eternal—this is the one thing absolutely unbearable. We
sinners know it, if ever we have felt what men callremorse for our own sin, or
for its consequences,whichwe would give worlds to undo—if ever we know

what it is to struggle with all our might againstthe bondage of conscious
sinfulness, and to struggle in vain. The sense that sin has gained an absolute
mastery over us, and that in the darkness of its bondage God’s face of love is
hidden from us for ever, and the unwilling terrors of His wrath let loose upon
our unsheltered heads—whichof us would not count light in comparisonthe
very keenestagonyofbody and soul? You remember how St. Paul cries out
under it, “O wretchedman that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of
this death?” But this sense of our own sin is but a faint shadow of the burden
on our Lord’s spirit of bearing, in the mysterious power of Atonement, the
sins of the whole world—“made” (as St. Paul boldly expresses it) “sin for us,”
entering even into the spiritual darkness whichcries out, “My God, my God,
why hast thou forsakenme?”1 [Note:Bishop Barry.]
Into the woods my Masterwent,
Cleanforspent, forspent;
Into the woods my Mastercame,
Forspentwith love and shame.
But the olives they were not blind to Him,
The little grey leaves were kind to Him,
When into the woods He came.

Out of the woods my Masterwent,
And He was well content;
Out of the woods my Mastercame,
Content with death and shame.
When death and shame would woo Him last,
From under the trees they drew Him last;
’Twas on a tree they slew Him—last
When out of the woods He came.2 [Note:Sidney Lanier.]
III
His Acceptance ofthe Father’s Will
“Howbeitnot what I will, but what thou wilt.”

1. Notwhat I will.—It was His meat and drink, as He Himself has told us, to
do His Father’s will and to finish His work. We can understand Him doing the
will of His Fatherwith gladness when, in accordance withit, He had miracles
to perform, Divine blessings to spread abroad, and His own perfectly pure
and goodlife to live. We canalso understand Him bravely doing it when, with
His soul which loathed evil and every kind of wrong, He bore up unflinchingly
againstthe wrongs and the evils with which He was Himself assailed. But
Jesus’subjectionwent far beyond this when He took the cross from His
Father’s hand, and meeklysaid as He did so in Gethsemane, “NotwhatI will,
but what thou wilt.”
The consentof His will was absolutely necessary. So He saidHimself of His
life, “I have powerto lay it down, and I have power to take it again.” That
consent, again, was neededat every point. At any moment His own words
might have been realised, “CannotI pray to my Father, and he shall presently
give me more than twelve legions of angels?”Thatconsent, further, had to be
given under a perfectfore-knowledge ofall that it implied—every pang of
suffering, every cruelty of triumphant evil. In these points, as in all others, His
was the one perfect sacrifice, laying a will, itself absolutely free, at the feet of
His Father. Doubtless we may follow Him—we must follow Him—but it is
afar off.
We read of a martyr of the English Reformation, before whose eyes atthe
stake was held up the pardon which awaitedhis recantation; and who cried
out in an agony which he found fiercerthan the fire itself, “If ye love my soul,
awaywith it.” And the secretofsuch agony, as also the essenceofsacrifice,
lies in the submission of the will—in the subjectionof that mysterious power,
which in man, weak and finite as he is, canbe (so God wills it) overcome by no
force except its own. “Sacrifice and burnt offering thou wouldestnot. Then
said I, Lo! I come to do thy will, O God.” I am content to do it.1 [Note:Bishop
Barry.]

What a contrastwithin the space of a few hours! What a transition from the
quiet elevationof that, “he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, Father!I
will,” to that falling on the ground and crying in agony, “My Father!not what
I will.” In the one we see the High Priestwithin the veil in His all-prevailing
intercession;in the other, the sacrifice onthe altar opening the way through
the rent veil. The high-priestly “Father!I will,” in order of time precedes the
sacrificial“Father!not what I will”; but this was only by anticipation, to show
what the intercessionwouldbe when once the sacrifice was brought. In reality
it was that prayer at the altar, “Father!not what I will,” in which the prayer
before the throne, “Father!I will,” had its origin and its power. It is from the
entire surrender of His will in Gethsemane that the Hight Prieston the throne
has the power to ask what He will, has the right to make His people share in
that powertoo, and ask what they will.
2. What Thou wilt.—Out of that agony—borne through the powerof intense
prayer of supplication—came forth submission to the will of the Father. Not
the acceptance ofan inevitable fate, againstwhich it is vain, and therefore
foolish to strive—suchas a mere Fatalistor Cynic might show. But the
submission, first, of a perfect faith—sure that whateverour Fatherordains
must be well—sure that He will not suffer one tear or pang that is not needed
for Salvation—sure that whateverHe lays on us, He will give us comfort and
strength to bear. “Notmy will, but Thine be done—Thine the all-wise—Thine
the all-merciful—Thine the almighty will.” But, even beyond this, there is the
submission of love. There is an actualdelight in sacrifice ofself for those we
love, which, in the world as it is, makes men count inevitable suffering as joy,
and, out of that suffering for others, actually begets a fresh accessoflove to
them, which is itself an exaltationand a comfort.
Christ’s prayer was not for the passing of the cup, but that the will of God
might be done in and by Him, and “He was heard in that he feared,” not by
being exempted from the Cross, but by being strengthenedthrough
submission for submission. So His agonyis the pattern of all true prayer,

which must everdeal with our wishes, as He did with His instinctive
shrinking,—presentthem wrapped in an “if it be possible,” and followedby a
“nevertheless.”The meaning of prayer is not to force our wills on God’s, but
to bend our wills to His; and that prayer is really answeredofwhich the issue
is our calm readiness for all that He lays upon us.1 [Note:A. Maclaren.]
3. It is best so. The cup did not pass from Him because it was not possible;but
yet in two ways, far above our ways, His prayer was granted. It was granted
first of all—(the whole history of the Passionproves it)—it was granted in the
heavenly strength that was given to Him to bear all the pains and sorrows that
were laid upon Him. As afterwards He said to His greatApostle, “My grace is
sufficient for thee,” so, now, God’s grace was sufficientfor Him. There
appeared, we are told, an angelfrom heaven strengthening Him; and in the
powerof that strength He rose from His knees, no longersorrowful, no longer
bowed down with terror and trouble, but calm and cheerful, ready to go forth
and meet His enemies, ready to bear all the taunts and pains of His trial and
crucifixion, ready to answera goodconfessionbefore Pontius Pilate, and to
pray for His brothers, and to think of His mother and friend, and of His
companions in woe, and to look back on the finishing of His mighty work, and
to commend His soul to His Father—more majestic, more adorable, more
Divine than He had ever seemedbefore.
Let us fix our thoughts on that secondand yet grander mode in which our
Lord’s petition was answered, evenaccording to those sacredwords of His
own, which are the model of all prayer, which are the key and secretof this
Divine tragedy—“Nevertheless, notmy will but thine be done.” That is the
sum and substance ofthe whole narrative of the Passion. Notthe substitution
of the will of Christ for the will of the eternal God, but the substitution of the
will of the eternalGod for the will even of His most dearly beloved Son.

There is a friend of mine, a dear and brilliant friend, whose name would be
honoured by you all if I were free to mention it. He told me the other day the
darkestchapter of his life. He told me how his whole life lay suddenly broken
off in disaster:his work ended, his heart broken, himself in hospital suffering
cruel pain. And then he said: “Oh, Dawson, whatvisions of God I had as I lay
in hospital! what a sense ofeternity, and the reality of things spiritual! I tell
you, if I knew to-day I could gain such visions of God and truth only by
repeating my sufferings, I would crawlupon my hands and knees acrossthis
continent to getthat disease!” Ah! there lies the justification of our
Gethsemanes.We need the utter loneliness, we need the separationfrom
friend and lover, to make us sure of God. “And Jacobwas leftalone,” says the
older record: “and there wrestleda man with him till the breaking of the
day.” Even so—till the breaking of the day, for the divinest of all dawns shines
in the Gethsemane ofsacrifice.1 [Note:W. J. Dawson.]
4. How blessedwas the Result. He prayed His way to perfect calm, which is
ever the companion of perfectself-surrender to God. They who ceasefrom
their own works do “enterinto rest.” All the agitations which had come
storming in massedbattalions againstHim are defeatedby it. They have failed
to shake His purpose, they now fail even to disturb His peace. So, victorious
from the dreadful conflict, and at leisure of heart to care for others, He can go
back to the disciples.
And so you find that from this moment Jesus moves to His end in majestic
calm. The agonyis passed, and it is passedfor ever; He knows the darkness to
be but the shadow of God’s wing. He speaks henceforthas one who sees the
dawn, and has the light of dawn upon His brow.
And how greatis the Encouragement. Christ’s agonyis the very consecration
of human suffering, the fresh spring of human hope. There is no depth into
which we can be plunged that He has not fathomed, no gloominto which we

can be castthat He has not illumined. There are trials harder to bear even
than death itself, but Christ has knowntheir bitterness, and if we recognise
the source ofsin from which they first flowed, He canturn those bitter waters
into rivers of comfort.
We very properly distinguish in ourselves two wills, the one of natural
inclination, the instinctive will, if you please;the other the deliberate purpose
and choice ofthe moral and rational nature. Our first effort must be the
complete surrender of our deliberate rational will to God, to work ever in
submission to His gracious ordering for our lives. Then the constantdiscipline
of the Christian life becomes the stern struggle to subdue the will of natural
inclination and to bring it a captive to our Lord. This is the sacrifice we have
to offer Him, a feeble counterpart in our small way, of the heroic self-sacrifice
He offered that day in Gethsemane.1 [Note:A. Ritchie.]
I know, O Jesus, in the bitter hour
Of human pain, that Thou hast felt the power
Of deeper anguish, and my lips are still,
Becausein silence Thou hast borne God’s will.2 [Note: E. H. Divall, The Ways
of God, 22.]
Christ in Prayer

What is prayer? It is to connectevery thought with the thought of God. To
look on everything as His work and His appointment. To submit every
thought, wish, and resolve to Him. To feel His presence, so that it shall
restrain us even in our wildest joy. That is prayer. And what we are now,
surely we are by prayer. If we have attained any measure of goodness, if we
have resistedtemptations, if we have any self-command, or if we live with
aspirations and desires beyond the common, we shall not hesitate to ascribe all
to prayer.
1. Christ is an Example in prayer. There is many a case in life, where to act
seems useless—manya truth which at times appears incredible. Then we
throw ourselves on Him—He did it, He believed it, that is enough. He was
wise, where I am foolish. He was holy, where I am evil. He must know. He
must be right. I rely on Him. Bring what arguments you may; say that prayer
cannot change God’s will. I know it. Say that prayer ten thousand times comes
back like a stone. Yes, but Christ prayed, therefore I may and I will pray. Not
only so, but I must pray; the wish felt and not uttered before God, is a prayer.
Speak, if your heart prompts, in articulate words, but there is an unsyllabled
wish which is also prayer. You cannot help praying, if God’s spirit is in yours.
2. Christ’s Prayeris an Example of what prayer is. A common popular
conceptionof prayer is, that it is the means by which the wish of man
determines the Will of God. This conceptionfinds an exact parallelin those
anecdotes withwhich Oriental history abounds, wherein a sovereigngives to
his favourite some token, on the presentationof which every request must be
granted. As when Ahasuerus promised Queen Estherthat her petition should
be granted, even to the half of his kingdom. As when Herod swore to
Herodias’ daughter that he would do whatevershe should require.
(1) Try this conceptionby four tests:

(a) Try it by its incompatibility with the factthat this universe is a system of
laws. Things are thus, rather than thus. Such an event is invariably followed
by such a consequence. This we calla law. All is one vast chain, from which if
you strike a single link you break the whole. It has been truly said that to
heave a pebble on the seashoreone yard higher up would change all
antecedents from the creation, and all consequents to the end of time. For it
would have required a greaterforce in the wave that threw it there—and that
would have required a different degree of strength in the storm—that again, a
change of temperature all overthe globe—andthat again, a corresponding
difference in the temperaments and characters ofthe men inhabiting the
different countries. So that when a child wishes a fine day for his morrow’s
excursion, and hopes to have it by an alteration of what would have been
without his wish, he desires nothing less than a whole new universe.
(b) Try it next by fact. Ask those of spiritual experience. We do not ask
whether prayer has been efficacious—ofcourse it has. It is God’s ordinance.
Without prayer the soul dies. But what we ask is, whether the goodderived
has been exactlythis, that prayer brought them the very thing they wished
for? For instance, did the plague come and go according to the laws of prayer
or the laws of health? Did it come because men neglectedprayer, or because
they disobeyedthose rules which His wisdom has revealedas the conditions of
salubrity? And when it departed was it because a nation lay prostrate in
sackclothand ashes, orbecause it arose and girded up its loins and removed
those causes andthose obstructions which, by everlasting Law, are causes and
obstructions? Did the catarrh or the consumption go from him who prayed,
soonerthan from him who humbly bore it in silence? Tryit by the case of
Christ—Christ’s prayer did not succeed. He prayed that the cup might pass
from Him. It did not so pass.
(c) Try it by its assumptions. To think that prayer changes God’s will, gives
unworthy ideas of God. It supposes our will to be better than His, the
Unchangeable, the Unsearchable, the All-Wise. Can you see the All of

things—the consequencesandsecretconnections ofthe event you wish? And if
not, would you really desire the terrible powerof infallibly securing it?
(d) Try it by its results. If we think that answeredprayer is a proof of grace,
we shall be unreasonablydepressedand unreasonablyelated—depressed
when we do not getwhat we wish, elated when we do; besides, we shall judge
uncharitably of other men. Two farmers pray, the one whose farm is on light
land, for rain; the other, whose contiguous farm is on heavy soil, for fine
weather;plainly one or the other must come, and that which is goodfor one
may be injurious to the other. If this be the right view of prayer, then the one
who does not obtain his wish must mourn, doubting God’s favour, or
believing that he did not pray in faith. Two Christian armies meet for battle—
Christian men on both sides pray for successto their own arms. Now if victory
be given to prayer, independent of other considerations, we are driven to the
pernicious principle that, success is the test of Right. From all which the
history of this prayer of Christ delivers us. It is a precious lessonof the Cross,
that apparent failure is Eternal victory. It is a precious lessonof this prayer,
that the object of prayer is not the successofits petition; nor is its rejection a
proof of failure. Christ’s petition was not gratified, yet He was the One well-
beloved of His Father.
(2) The true efficacyof prayer is found in the words, “As thou wilt.” All
prayer is to change the will human into submission to the will Divine. Trace
the steps in this history by which the mind of the Sonof Man arrived at this
result. First, we find the human wish almost unmodified, that “That cup
might pass from Him.” Then He goes to the disciples, and it would appear
that the sight of those disciples, cold, unsympathetic, asleep, chilledHis spirit,
and setin motion that train of thought which suggestedthe idea that perhaps
the passing of that cup was not His Father’s will. At all events He goes back
with this perhaps, “If this cup may not pass from me except I drink it, thy will
be done.” He goes back again, and the words become more strong:
“Nevertheless, notas I will, but as thou wilt.” The last time He comes, all

hesitancyis gone. Not one trace of the human wish remains; strong in
submission, He goes to meet His doom—“Rise,letus be going; behold he is at
hand that doth betray me.” This, then, is the true course and history of
prayer.1 [Note:F. W. Robertson.]
He prayed, but to his prayer no answercame,
And chokedwithin him sank his ardour’s flame;
No more he prayed, no more the knee he bent,
While round him darkeneddoubt and discontent;
Till in his room, one eve, there shone a light,
And he beheld an angel-presence bright,
Who said: “O faint heart, why hast thou resigned
Praying, and no more callestGodto mind?”
“I prayed,” he said, “but no one heard my prayer,
Long disappointment has induced despair.”

“Fool!” said the angel, “every prayer of thine,
Of God’s immense compassionwas a sign;
Eachcry of thine ‘O Lord!’ itself contains
The answer, ‘Here am I’; thy very pains,
Ardour, and love and longing, every tear
Are His attraction, prove Him very near.”
The cloud dispersed; once more the suppliant prayed,
Nor ever failed to find the promised aid.2 [Note:Jalaluddin Rumi, in Claud
Field’s A Little Book ofEasternWisdom, 49.]
The Prayerin Gethsemane
BIBLEHUB RESOURCES

Pulpit Commentary Homiletics
The Cup Of Experience
Mark 14:36
A. Rowland
The mystery of our Lord's suffering is beyond our power of accurate analysis.
We cannotfathom the depths of sin and grief which he experienced. We must
not suppose that, because we are so familiar with this narrative, we know all
its significance. At the most we have only felt one wave of the sea ofsorrow
which sobbed and swelledin his infinite heart. Only one phase of this
manysided subject will engage our attention. Leaving the atoning nature of
the sufferings of our Lord, we will now regardhim as the Representative of
his people, their Forerunner in this as in all things. The "cup" is a figure
familiar enough to all students of Scripture.
I. THE CUP OF EXPERIENCE maybe representedby the cup which was the
symbol of the mockeryand shame and grief the Savior suffered.
1. The phrase reminds us that our joys and griefs are measured. A cup is not
illimitable. Full to the brim, it canonly hold its own measure.
(1) Our joys are limited by what is in us, and by what is in them. If a man
prospers in the world, his wealthbrings him not only comfort, but care,
anxiety, and responsibility, so that he may occasionallywishhimself back in
his former lowlier lot. And family joys bring their anxieties to every home
which has them. No one drinks here of an oceanof bliss but he thanks God for
a "cup" of it, measured by One who knows what will be best for character.
This is true even of spiritual joys. The time of ecstasyis followedby a season
of depression. The Valley of Humiliation is passed, as well as the Delectable
Mountains, by Christian in his pilgrimage. Nowhere on earth can we say, "I
am satisfied;" but many, like the psalmist, can exclaim, "I shall be satisfied."
(2) Our griefs are limited also. Theyare proportioned to our strength,
adapted for our improvement. Even in the saddestbereavementthere is much
to moderate our grief if we will but receive it: gratitude for all our dear one

was and did; gladness overall the testimonies of love and esteemin which he
was held; hope that by-and-by there shall be the reunion, where there shall be
no more sorrow and sighing, and where "Godshall wipe awayall tears from
our eyes." Goddoes not let an oceanofsadness surge up and overwhelm us,
but gives us a cup, which we may drink in fellowshipwith Christ in his
sufferings.
2. The phrase in our text suggestsnotonly measurement, but loving control.
Our Lord recognized, as we may humbly do, that the cup was filled and
proffered by him whom he addressedas "Abba, Father." In one sense the
events in Gethsemane and on Calvary were the results of natural causes.
Integrity and sinlessnesscalledforth the antagonismof those whose sins were
thereby rebuked. Plain-spokendenunciations of the ecclesiasticalleaders
arousedtheir undying hate, and no hatred is more malignant than that of
irreligious theologians. Judas, disappointedand abashed, was a ready
instrument for evil work. Yet, behind all this, One unseenwas carrying out his
eternal purpose, fulfilling his promise, "The seedof the womanshall bruise
the serpent's head." Hence Jesus speaks notof the plot accomplishedby his
foes, but of the cup given him by the Father. We are at an infinite remove
from him, yet, as the same law which controls worlds controls insects, so the
truth which held good with the Son of man holds goodalso with us. We may
recognize God's overruling in man's working, and accepteverymeasure of
experience as provided and proffered by our Father's hand.
II. THE PURPOSE OF ITS APPOINTMENT. That it comes from our
"Father" shows that it has a purpose, and that it is one of love, not of cruelty.
It is not like the cup of hemlock Socrates receivedfrom his foes, but like that
potion you give your child that he may be refreshed, or strengthened, or
cured.
1. Sometimes the purpose respects ourselves.Evenof Jesus Christ, the sinless
One, it is said he was "made perfect through sufferings;" that as our Brother
he might feelfor us, and as our High Priestmight sympathize, being "touched
with the feeling of our infirmities." Much more is the experience of life a
blessing to us who are imperfect and sinful; correcting our worldliness, and
destroying our self-confidence.

2. Sometimes the purpose respects others. It was so with our Lord pre-
eminently. He "came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his
life a ransomfor many." "None of us liveth unto himself." If our cup of
blessing runs over, its overflowings, whetherof wealth, or strength, or
spiritual joy, are for the goodof those around us. If our lot be one of suffering,
we may in it witness for our Lord, and from it learn to console others with the
comfort wherewith we ourselves have been comforted of God. - A.R.
Biblical Illustrator
Which was named Gethsemane.
Mark 14:32-36
The conflict in Gethsemane
Charles Stanford, D. D.
I. THE PLACE OF THE CONFLICT CALLS FOR A BRIEF NOTICE.

II. THE STORYOF THE CONFLICT. Its intensity is the first factin the
story that strikes us. "His sweatwas as it were greatdrops of blood falling to
the ground." This conflict wrung from the Saviour a greatcry. What was it?
"O My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless not as
I will, but as Thou wilt." We have a glimpse of the conflictcarried on by
Christ for us, single-handed.
III. THE SLEEP OF THE DISCIPLES WHILST THIS CONFLICT WAS
GOING ON.
(Charles Stanford, D. D.)
Gethsemane
The Preacher's Monthly.
I. Gethsemane suggeststo reverent faith our blessedRedeemer's longing for
human sympathy.
II. It reminds us of the sacrednessofhuman sorrow and Divine communion.
III. It reveals the overwhelming fulness of the Redeemer's sorrow.
IV. It reminds us of the will of Christ yielded to the will of the Father.
V. It has lessons andinfluences for our own hearts.
(The Preacher's Monthly.)
Jesus in Gethsemane
H. L. B. Speare.
I. WOE'S BITTERESTCUP SHOULD BE TAKEN WHEN IT IS THE
MEANS OF HIGHEST USEFULNESS. Wastedsuffering is the climax of
suffering. Affliction's furnace heat loses its keenestpangs for those who can
see the form of One like unto the Sonof Man walking with them by example,

and know that they are ministering to the world's true joy and life, in some
degree, as He did.
II. FROM OUR LORD'S EXAMPLE WE LEARN THE HELPFULNESS IN
SORROW OF RELIANCE UPON HUMAN AND DIVINE
COMPANIONSHIP COMBINED. Butto do both in proper proportion is not
easy. Some hide from both earth and heavenas much as possible. Others lean
wholly upon human supports; others, yet, turn to God in a seclusionto which
the tenderestoffices of friends are unwelcome. Our Lord's divinity often
appears plainest in his symmetrical union of traits, mainly remark. able
because oftheir combination. He was at once the humblest and boldest of
men; the farthest from sin and the most compassionate towards the returning
prodigal; the meekestand the most commanding. So, in the garden agony, he
leaned upon human and Divine supports; the one as indispensable as the
other. Whateverthe situation, we are not to actthe recluse. Life's circles need
us and we need them. Neither are we to forget the Father in heaven. Storms
and trial only increase His ready sympathy and succour.
III. OUR LORD'S CRUCIAL OBEDIENCEIN THE GARDEN AGONY
REFLECTS THE MAJESTYOF THE HUMAN WILL AND ITS POSSIBLE
MASTERYOF EVERY TRIAL IN PERFECTOBEDIENCE TO THE
DIVINE WILL. However superhuman Jesus'suffering, He was thoroughly
human in it. He had all our faculties, and used them as we may use ours. It is
no small encouragementthat the typical Man gives us an example of perfect
obedience, ata costunknown before or since. In the mutual relations of the
human and Divine wills all merit is achievedand all characterconstructed.
Learned authors dwell with deservedinterest upon the world's "decisive
battles," the pivots of destiny. The soul's future for time and eternity turns
upon contests in which the will is in chief command. Intellect and sensibilities
participate, but they are always subordinate. It were helpful to bear this in
mind under every exposure. Let the inquiry be quick and constant, What
saith the will? Is that steadyand unflinching?
IV. JESUS'SOUL COULD HAVE BEEN "SORROWFULEVEN UNTO
DEATH" ONLY AS HIS SUFFERINGS WERE VICARIOUS. He was always
sublimely heroic. Why such agonynow? It was something far deadlier than

death. It was the burden and mystery of the world's sin. The Lamb of God
was slain for us in soul agonyrather than by physical pain. His soul formed
the soulof His sufferings.
V. GETHSEMANE'SDARKNESS PAINTS SIN'S GUILT AND RUIN IN
FAITHFUL AND ENDURING COLOUR. It is easyto think lightly of sin.
Having never known guilt, Christ met the same hidings of the Divine
countenance as do the guilty. This was man's disobedience in its relationwith
God's law and judgment.
VI. GETHSEMANE THROWS PORTENTOUS LIGHT UPON THE WOE
OF LOST SOULS. He suffered exceptionally, but He was also a typical
sufferer; every soul has possibilities beyond our imagination; and terrible the
doom when these possibilities are fulfilled in the direction to which
Gethsemane points.
VII. OUR LESSON GIVES TERRIBLE EMPHASIS TO THE FACT AND
SERIOUSNESS OF IMPOSSIBILITIES WITHGOD. Our time tends
strongly towards lax notions of the Divine characterand law and of the
conditions of salvation. The will and fancy erecttheir own standards. Religion
and obedience are to be settled according to individual notions, a subjective
affair. Our Lord's agonized words, "If it be possible," establishthe rigidity
and absolutenessofgovernmental and spiritual conditions. God's will and
plans are objective realities;they have definite and all-important direction
and demands. Man should not think of being a law unto himself either in
conduct or belief; leastof all should he sit in judgment upon the revealed
Word, fancying that any amount or kind of inner light is a true and sufficient
test of its legitimacy and authority. But, how futile all attempts at fathoming
Gethsemane's lessons.
(H. L. B. Speare.)
Christ in Gethsemane
J. H. Hitchens.

I. GETHSEMANESAW CHRIST'S AGONY ON ACCOUNT OF SIN.
II. GETHSEMANE WAS A WITNESS OF CHRIST'S DEVOTION IN THE
HOUR OF DISTRESS.
III. GETHSEMANE WAS A WITNESS OF CHRIST'S RESIGNATIONTO
THE WILL OF GOD.
IV. GETHSEMANE WAS A WITNESS OF CHRIST'S SYMPATHY WITH,
AND AFFECTION FOR, HIS TRIED FOLLOWERS.
(J. H. Hitchens.)
The prayer in Gethsemane
C. S. Robinson, D. D.
I. Let us notice, in the outset, THE SUDDEN EXPERIENCEWHICH LED
TO THIS ACT OF SUPPLICATION. He beganto be "sore amazedand to be
very heavy." Evidently something new had come to Him; either a disclosure of
fresh trial, or a violence of unusual pain under it. Here it is affecting to find in
our Divine Lord so much of recognizedand simple human nature He desired
to be alone, but He planned to have somebodyHe loved and trusted within
call. His grief was too burdensome for utter abandonment. Hence came the
demand for sympathy He made, and the persistence in reserve he retained,
both of which are so welcome and instructive. Forhere emphatically, as
perhaps nowhere else, we are "with Him in the garden." Oh, how passionately
craving of help, and yet how majesteriallyrejectful of impertinent condolence,
are some of these moments we have in our mourning, "when our souls retire
upon their reserves, and will open their deepestrecesses onlyto God! Our
secretis unshared, our struggle is unrevealed to men. Yet we love those who
love us just as much as ever. It is helpful to find that even our Lord Jesus had
some feelings of which He could not tell John. He "wentaway" (Matthew
26:44).
II. Let us, in the secondplace, inquire concerning THE EXACT MEANING
OF THIS SINGULAR SUPPLICATION. In those three intense prayers was

the Savioursimply afraid of death? Was that what our version makes the
Apostle Paul sayHe "feared"? Was He just pleading there under the olives
for permissionto put off the human form now, renounce the "likeness of
men" (Philippians 2:7, 8), which He had taken upon Him, slip back into
heaven inconspicuouslyby some sortof translationwhich would remove Him
from the powerof Pilate, so that when Judas had done his errand "quickly,"
and had arrived with the soldiers, Jesus wouldbe mysteriously missing, and
the traitor would find nothing but three harmless comrades there asleepon
the grass?Thatis to say, are we ready to admit that our Lord and Master
seriouslyproposed to go back to His Divine Father's bosomat this juncture,
leaving the prophecies unfulfilled, the redemption unfinished, the very honour
of Jehovahsullied with a failure? Does it offer any help in dealing with such a
conjecture to insist that this was only a moment of weaknessin His "human
nature?" Would this make any difference as a matter of fact for Satan to
discoverthat he had only been contending with another Adam, after all?
Would the lost angels any the less exult over the happy news of a celestial
defeatbecause they learned that the "seedof the woman" had not succeeded
in bruising the serpent's head by reasonofHis own alarm at the last? Oh, no:
surely no! Jesus had said, when in the far-back counsels ofeternity the
covenantof redemption was made, "Lo, I come:I delight to do Thy will, O my
God" (Psalm 40:7, 8). He could have had no purpose now, we may be
evermore certain, of withdrawing the proffer of Himself to suffer for men.
There can be no doubt that the "cup" which our Lord desired might "pass
from" His lips, and yet was willing to drink if there could be no release from
it, was the judicial wrath of Goddischargedupon Him as a culprit vicariously
before the law, receiving the awful curse due to human sin. We rejectall
notion of mere physical illness or exhaustionas well as all conjecture of mere
sentimental loneliness under the abandonment of friends. In that supreme
moment when He found that He, sinless in every particular and degree, must
be consideredguilty, and so that His heavenly Father's face and favour must
at leastfor a while be withdrawn from Him, He was, in despite of all His
courageouspreparation, surprised and almostfrightened to discoverhow
much His own soul was beginning to shudder and recoilfrom coming into
contactwith sin of any sort, even though it was only imputed. Evidently it
seemedto His infinitely pure nature horrible to be put in a position, however

false, such as that His adorable Fatherwould be compelled to draw the mantle
over His face. This shockedHim unutterably. He shrank back in
consternationwhen He saw He must become loathsome in the sight of heaven
because ofthe "abominable thing" God hated (Jeremiah44:4). Hence, we
conceive the prayer coveredonly that. That which appears at first a startling
surrender of redemption as a whole, is nothing more than a petition to be
relieved from what He hoped might be deemed no necessarypart of the curse
He was bearing for others. He longed, as He entered unusual darkness, just to
receive the usual light. It was as if He had saidto His heavenly Father:"The
pain I understood, the curse I came for. Shame, obloquy, death, I care nothing
for them. I only recoilfrom being loadedso with foreignsin that I cannotbe
lookedupon with any allowance. I am in alarm when I think of the prince of
this world coming and finding something in me, when hitherto he had
nothing. I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint, my
heart is like wax, when I think of the taunt that the Lord I trusted no longer
delights in Me; this is like laughing God to scorn. Is there no permitted
discrimination betweena real sinner, and a substitute only counted such
before the law in this one particular? All things are possible with Thee;make
it possible now for Thee to see Thy Son, and yet not seem to see the imputed
guilt He bears! Yet even this will I endure, if so it must be in order that I may
fulfil all righteousness;Thy will, not Mine, be done!"
III. Again, let us observe carefully THE EXTRAORDINARYRANGE
WHICH THIS PRAYER IN THE GARDEN TOOK. It is not worth while
even to appear to be playing upon an accidentalcollocationofwords in the
sacrednarrative; but why should it be assertedthat any inspired words are
accidental? The whole history of Immanuel's sufferings that awful night
contains no incident more strikingly suggestive than the record of the distance
He kept betweenHimself and His disciples. It is the act as well as the language
which is significant. Mark says, "He went forward a little." Luke says, "He
was withdrawn from them about a stone's east." Matthew says, "He wenta
little farther." So now we know that this one petition of our Lord was the
final, secret, supreme whisper of His innermost heart. The range of such a
prayer was overHis whole nature. It exhaustedHis entire being. It covered
the humanity it represented. In it for Himself and for us "He went a little

farther" than ever He had in His supplication gone before. One august
monarch rules over this fallen world, and holds all human hearts under His
sway. His name is Pain. His image and superscription is upon every cointhat
passes currentin this mortal life. He claims fealty from the entire race of man.
And, soonerorlater, once, twice, or a hundred times, as the king chooses, and
not as the subject wills, eachsoul has to put on its black garment, go sedately
and sufferingly on its sad journey to pay its loyal tribute, preciselyas Joseph
and Mary were compelled to go up to Bethlehem to be taxed. When this tyrant
Pain summons us to come and discharge his dues, it is the quickestof human
instincts which prompts us to seek solitude. That seems to be the universal
rule (Zechariah 12:12-14). Butnow we discoverfrom this symbolic picture
that, wheneverany Christian goes awayfrom other disciples deeperinto the
solitudes of his own Gethsemane, he almost at once draws nearer to the
Saviour he needs. For our Lord just now "went forward a little." There He is,
on ahead of us all in experience!It is simply and wonderfully true of Jesus
always, no matter how severe is the suffering into which for their discipline
He leads His chosen, He Himself has takenHis position in advance of them.
No human lot was everso forlorn, so grief-burdened, so desolate, as was that
of the GreatLife given to redeem it. No path ever reachedso distantly into the
regionof heart trying agony as that it might not still see that peerless Christof
God "about a stone's cast" beyondit, kneeling in some deeper shadows ofHis
own. No believer ever went so far into his lonely Gethsemane but that he
found his Masterhad gone "a little farther."
"Christ did not send, but came Himself, to save;
The ransom price He did not lend, but gave;
Christ died, the Shepherd for the sheep, —
We only fall asleep."
IV. Finally, let us inquire after THE SUPREME RESULTS OF THIS
SUPPLICATION OF OUR LORD.
1. Considerthe High Priestof our profession(Hebrews 12:2-4). What good
would it do to pray, if Christ's prayer was unsuccessful?

2. But was it answered? Certainly(Hebrews 5:7-9). The cup remained (John
18:11), but he got acquiescence(Matthew 26:42), and strength (Luke 22:43).
3. Have we been "with Him in the garden"? Then we have found a similar
cup" (Mark 10:38, 39).
(C. S. Robinson, D. D.)
Companionship in sorrow
H. Clay Trumbull.
It is a delightful thing to be with Jesus on the mountain of transfiguration,
where heavenly visitants are seen, and a heavenly voice is heard. It would
seemgoodto be always there. But they who would follow Jesus through this
earthly life, must be with Him also out on the stormy sea in the gloomynight;
and againthey must come with Him into the valley of the shadow of death.
There are bright, glad clays to the Christian believer, when faith and hope
and love are strong. But there are days also of trial and sorrow, whenit seems
as if faith must fail, and hope must die, and love itself must cease. It is one
thing for a young couple to stand togetherin light and joy, surrounded by
friends, at their marriage reception, or to share eachother's pleasure on their
wedding tour. It is quite another thing for a married pair to watchtogether
through the wearynight over a sick and suffering child, and to close the eyes
of their darling in its death sleep, in the gray of the gloomy morning. Yet the
clouds are as sure as the sunlight on the path of every chosendisciple of Jesus
who follows his Masterunswervingly; and he who never comes with Jesus to a
place named Gethsemane has chosenfor himself anotherpath than that
wherein the Saviourleads the way.
(H. Clay Trumbull.)
Christ, our sin bearer
J. H. Evans, M. A.

I. WITH REGARD TO THE POSITION OUR LORD WAS IN, HE STOOD
THERE AS THE GREAT SIN BEARER. Here, beloved, we see what the
burden was which our Lord bore: it was our sins.
II. BUT NOW OBSERVE, SECONDLY, THE GREAT WEIGHT OF THIS
BURDEN. Who can declare it?
(J. H. Evans, M. A.)
The sufferings of the good
Norman Macleod.
My life has been to me a mystery of love. I know that God's educationof each
man is in perfect righteousness. Iknow that the best on earth have been the
greatestsufferers, becausethey were the best, and like gold could stand the
fire and be purified by it. I know this, and a greatdeal more, and yet the
mercy of God to me is such a mystery that I have been tempted to think I was
utterly unworthy of suffering. God have mercy on my thoughts! I may be
unable to stand suffering. I do not know. But I lay myself at Thy feet, and say,
'Not that I am prepared, but that Thou art good and wise, and wilt prepare
me.'"
(Norman Macleod.)
Resignation
R. N. Cust.
Of all the smaller English missions, the Livingstone Congo stands conspicuous
for its overflowing of zeal and life and promise; and of all its agents, young
M'Call was the brightest; but he was struck down in mid-work. His last words
were recordedby a strangerwho visited him. Let eachone of us lay them to
our hearts. "Lord, I gave myself, body, mind, and soul, to Thee, I consecrated
my whole life and being to Thy service;and now, if it please Thee to take

myself, instead of the work which I would do for Thee, whatis that to me?
Thy will be done."
(R. N. Cust.)
Christ's sorrow and desertion
H. Melvill, B. D.
It is beyond our powerto ascertainthe precise amount of suffering sustained
by our Lord; for a mystery necessarilyencircles the person of Jesus, in which
two natures are combined. This mystery may ever prevent our knowing how
His humanity was sustained by His divinity. Still, undoubtedly, the general
representationof Scripture would lead to the conclusion, that though He was
absolute God, with every powerand prerogative of Deity, yet was Christ, as
man, left to the same conflicts, and dependent on the same assistances as any
of His followers. He differed, indeed, immeasurably, in that He was conceived
without the taint of original sin, and therefore was free from our evil
propensities:He lived the life of faith which He workedout for Himself, and
He lived it to gain for us a place in His Father's kingdom. Although He was
actually to meet affliction like a man, He was left without any external
support from above. This is very remarkably shown by His agonyin the
garden, when an angelwas sent to strengthen Him. Wonderful that a Divine
person should have craved assistance,and that He did not draw on His own
inexhaustible resources!But, it was as a man that He grappled with the
powers of darkness — as a man who could receive no celestialaid. And, if this
be a true interpretation of the mode in which our Lord met persecutionand
death, we must be right, in contrasting Him with martyrs, when we assertan
immeasurable difference betweenHis sufferings, and those of men who have
died nobly for the truth: from Him the light of the Father's countenance was
withdrawn, whilst unto them it was conspicuouslydisplayed. This may explain
why Christ was confounded and overwhelmed, where others had been serene
and undaunted. Still, the question arises, — Why was Christ thus desertedof
the Father? Why were those comforts and supports withheld from Him which
have been frequently vouchsafedto His followers? No doubt it is a surprising

as well as a piteous spectacle thatof our Lord shrinking from the anguish of
what should befall Him, whilst others have faced death, in its most frightful
forms, with unruffled composure. You never can accountfor this, exceptby
acknowledging that our Lord was no ordinary man, meeting death as a mere
witness for truth, but that he was actually a sin offering; bearing the weightof
the world's iniquities. His agony — His doleful cries — His sweating, as it
were, greatdrops of blood; these are not to be explained on the supposition of
His being merely an innocent man, hunted down by fierce and unrelenting
enemies. Had He been only this, why should He be apparently so excelledin
confidence and composure by a long line of martyrs and confessors? Christ
wad more than this. Though He had done no sin, yet was He in the place of the
sinful, bearing the weight of Divine indignation, and made to feelthe terrors
of Divine wrath. Innocent, He was treated as guilty! He had made Himself the
substitute of the guilty — hence His anguish and terror. Bearin mind, that the
sufferer who exhibits, as you might think, so much less of composure and
firmness than has been evinced by many when calledon to die for truth —
bear in mind, that this sufferer has had a world's iniquity laid on His
shoulders; that Godis now dealing with Him as the representative of apostate
man, and exacting from Him the penalties due to unnumbered transgressions;
and you will cease to wonderthough you may still almostshudder at words, so
expressive of agony — "My soulis exceeding sorrowful, evenunto death."
(H. Melvill, B. D.)
Christ's agonyof soul
H. Melvill, B. D.
It is on the sufferings of the soulthat we would fix your attention; for these,
we doubt not, were the mighty endurances of the Redeemer — these pursued
Him to His very lastmoments, until He paid the last fragment of our debts.
You will perceive that it was in the soul rather than in the body that our
blessedSaviour made atonement for transgression. He had put Himself in the
place of the criminal, so far as it was possible for an innocent man to assume
the position of the guilty; and standing in the place of the criminal, with guilt

imputed to Him, He had to bear the punishment that misdeeds had incurred.
You must be aware that anguish of the soul rather than of the body is the
everlasting portion of sinners; and though, of course, we cannotthink that our
Lord endured preciselywhat sinners had deserved, for he could have known
nothing of the stings and bodes of consciencebeneathwhich they must
eternally writhe, yet forasmuch as he was exhausting their curse — a curse
which was to drive ruin into their soul as well as rack the body with
unspeakable pain — we might well expect that the soul's anguish of a surety
or substitute would be felt even more than the bodily: and that external
affliction, howevervast and accumulated, would be comparatively less in its
rigour or accompaniments, than His internal anguish, which is not to be
measuredor imagined. This expectationis certainly quite borne out by the
statements of Scripture, if carefully considered. Indeed it is very observable
that when our Lord is setbefore us as exhibiting signs of anguish and distress
there was no bodily suffering whatever — none but what was causedmentally.
I refer, as you must be aware, to the scene in the garden, as immediately
connectedwith our text, when the Redeemermanifested the most intense grief
and horror, His sweatbeing as it were greatdrops of blood — a scene which
the most callous canscarcelyencounter:in this case there was no nail, no
spear. Ay, though there was the prospect of the cross, there was hardly fear. It
was the thought of dying as a malefactor, which so overcame the Redeemer,
that He needed strength by an angelfrom heaven. That it was that wrung out
the thrilling exclamation:"My soul is exceeding sorrowful." It is far beyond
us to tell you what were the spiritual endurances which so distressedand bore
down the Redeemer. There is a veil over the anguish of the incarnate God
which no mortal hand may attempt to remove. I can only suppose that holy as
He was — incapable of sinning in thought or deed — He had a piercing and
overwhelming sense ofthe criminality of sin — of the dishonour which it
attachedto the world — of the ruin which it was bringing on man: He must
have felt as no other being could, the mighty fearfulness of sin — linked alike
with God and with man — the brethren of sinners, and the being sinned
against. Who can doubt that, as He bore our transgressions in our nature, He
must have been wounded as with a two-edgedsword— the one edge
lacerating Him as He was jealous of divine glory, and the other as He longed
for human happiness? Though we cannotexplain what passedin the soul of

the Redeemer, we would impress on you the truth, that it was in the soul
rather than in the body that those dire pangs were endured which exhausted
the curse denounced againstsin. Let not any think that mere bodily anguish
went as an equivalent for the miseries and the tortures which must have been
eternally exactedfrom every human being. It would take awaymuch of the
terribleness of the future doom of the impenitent, to representthose sufferings
as only, or chiefly, bodily. Men will argue the nature of the doom, not the
nature of the suffering capacityin its stead. And, certainly, a hell without
mental agony, would be a paradise in comparisonwith what we believe to be
the pandemonium, where the soul is the rack, and consciencethe executioner.
Go not awayfrom Calvary, with thoughts of nothing but suffering a death by
being nailed to a cross and left to expire after long torture! Go away, rather
thinking of the horror which had takenhold of the soul of the forsaken
sufferer; and as you carry with you a remembrance of the doleful spectacle,
and smite your breasts at the thought of His piteous cry — a cry more
startling than the crashof the earthquake that announcedHis death — lay ye
to heart His unimaginable endurances which extort the cry: "My soul is
exceeding sorrowful, even unto death."
(H. Melvill, B. D.)
Blessings throughChrist's soul agony
H. Melvill, B. D.
It is this death — this travail of the soul, which from the beginning to the end
of a Christian life is effecting or producing that holier creature which is finally
to be presentedwithout spot or wrinkle, meet for the inheritance of the saints
in light. It is in the pangs of the soul, that he feels the renewing influence of the
Holy Ghost, realized in the birth of the Christian character, who in any age of
the world recovers the defacedimage of his God. I think it gives a
preciousness to every means of grace, thus to considerthem as brought into
being by the agonies ofthe Redeemer. It would go far, were this borne in
mind, to defend it againstthe resistance orneglect, if it were impressed on you
that there is not a single blessing of which you are conscious,that did not

spring from this sorrow — this sorrow unto death of the Redeemer's soul.
Could you possibly make light, as perhaps you now do, of those warnings and
secretadmonitions which come you know not whence, prompting you to
forsake certainsins and give heed to certain duties, if you were impressedthat
it was through the very soul of the Redeemerbeing "exceeding sorrowful,
even unto death," that there was obtained for you the privilege of accessto
God by prayer, or the having offers made to you of pardon and
reconciliation? Do you think you could kneel down irreverently or formally,
or that you could treat the ordinance of preaching as a mere human
institution, in regardto which, it mattered little whether you were in earnest
or not? The memory that Christ's soul travailed in agony to procure for you
those blessings — which, because they are abundant, you may be tempted to
underrate — would necessarilyimpart a preciousnessto the whole. You could
not be indifferent to the bitter cry; you could not look languidly on the scene
as you saw the cross. This is a fact; it was only by sorrow — sorrow unto
death of the Redeemer's soul — that any of the ordinary means of grace —
those means that you are daily enjoying, have been procured. Will you think
little of those means? Will you neglectthem? Will you trifle with them? Will
you not rather feelthat what costso much to buy, it must be fatal to despise?
Neither, as we said, is it the worth only of the means of grace that you may
learn from the mighty sorrow by which they were purchased; it is also your
own worth, the worth of your own soul. When we would speak ofthe soul and
endeavour to impress men with a sense ofits value, we may strive to set forth
the nature of its properties, its powers, its capacities, its destinies, but we can
make very little way; we show little more than our ignorance, forsearchhow
we will the soul is a mystery; it is like Deity, of which it is the spark; it hides
itself by its own light; and eludes by dazzling the inquirer. You will
remember, that our Lord emphatically asked:"What shall a man give in
exchange for his soul?" It is implied in the question, that if the whole world
were offered in barter — the world, with all its honours and its riches — he
would be the veriest of fools who would consentto the exchange, and would be
a loserto an extent beyond thought, in taking creationand surrendering his
soul. Then I hear you say, "This is all a theory!" It may be so. "The world in
one scale, is but a particle of dust to the soul in the other! We should like to
see an actualexchange:this might assure us of the untold worth that you wish

to demonstrate." And, my brethren, you shall see a human soulput on one
side and the equivalent on the other. You shall see anexchange! Not the
exchange — the foul exchange which is daily, ay, hourly! made — the
exchange of the soul for a bauble, for a shadow;an exchange, whicheven
those who make it would shrink from if they thought on what they were doing
— would shrink from with horror, if they would know how far they are losers
and not gainers by the bargain. The exchange we have to exhibit is a fair
exchange. Whatis given for the soul is what the soul is worth. Come with us,
and strive to gaze on the glories of the invisible God — He who has grieved in
the soul, "for He emptied Himself, and made Himself of no reputation," that
the soulmight be saved! Come with us to the stable of Bethlehem! Come with
us to Calvary! The amazing accumulationof which you are spectator — the
fearful sorrow, onwhich you hardly dare to look — the agony of Him who
had done no sin — the agonyof Him who was the Lord of glory — the death
of Him who was the Prince of Light — this was given for the soul; by this
accumulation was redemption effected. Is there not here an exchange — an
exchange actuallymade, with which we might prove it impossible to overrate
the value of the soul? If you read the form of the question — "Whatshall a
man give in exchange for his soul?" you will see it implies that it is not within
the empire of wealth to purchase the soul. But cannot this assume the form of
another question — What would God give in exchange for the soul? Here we
have an answer, not of supposition, but of fact: we tell you what God has given
— He has given Himself.
(H. Melvill, B. D.)
Complete resignation
A minister, being askedby a friend, during his last illness, whether he thought
himself dying, answered:"Really, friend, I care not whether I am or not. If I
die, I shall be with God; and, if I live, God will be with me."
Instance of resignation

During the siege of Barcelona, in 1705, CaptainCarletonwitnessedthe
following affecting incident, which he relates in his memoirs: "I saw an old
officer, having his only son with him, a fine young man about twenty years of
age, going into their tent to dine. Whilst they were at dinner a shot took off the
head of the son. The father immediately rose, and first looking down upon his
headless child, and then lifting up his eyes to heaven, whilst the tears ran
down his cheeks,only said, 'Thy will be done!'"
STUDYLIGHT RESOURCES
Adam Clarke Commentary
Abba, Father - This Syriac word, which intimates filial affection and respect,
and parental tenderness, seems to have been used by our blessedLord merely
consideredas man, to show his complete submission to his Father's will, and
the tender affectionwhich he was conscious his Fatherhad for him, Abba,
Syriac, is here joined to ὁ πατηρ, Greek, both signifying father; so St. Paul,
Romans 8:15; Galatians 4:6. The reasonis, that from the time in which the
Jews became conversantwith the Greek language, by means of the Septuagint
version and their commerce with the Romanand Greek provinces, they often
intermingled Greek and Romanwords with their own language. There is the
fullest evidence of this factin the earliestwritings of the Jews;and they often
add a word of the same meaning in Greek to their own term; such as ‫יריק‬ ‫ירמ‬ ,
Mori, κυριε my Lord, Lord; ‫רעש‬ ‫יליפ‬ , pili, πυλη, shuar, gate, gate:and above,
af,ρηταπ , ‫אבא‬ther, father: see severalexamples in Schoettgen. The words ‫יבא‬
and ‫אבא‬ appearto have been differently used among the Hebrews;the first
Abbi, was a term of civil respect;the second, Abba, a term of filial affection.
Hence, Abba, Abbi, as in the Syriac version in this place, may be considered
as expressing, My Lord, my Father. And in this sense St. Paul is to be
understood in the places referredto above. See Lightfoot.

Coffman's Commentaries on the Bible
And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible to thee: remove this cup
from me: howbeit, not what I will, but what thou wilt.
Of course, God could have removed the cup; but to have done so would have
enthroned Satanas the Lord of man, and the destruction of all men would
have resulted at once. Reading the characterofSatanin both the Old
Testamentand the New Testament, one is compelled to see the destruction of
God's human creationas a prime objective of Satan, reaching all the way
back to Eden; and, if Christ's redemptive death had been aborted, absolutely
nothing would have stood in the way of Satan's total achievementof his goal.
See my Commentary on Hebrews, Hebrews 2:14.
Howbeit not what I will, but what thou wilt ... At such overwhelming costto
himself, the Lord consentedto the Father's will, despite the agony within
himself. Here, in the garden, the human nature of our Lord was, for a time, in
the ascendancy;and the final put-down of the flesh was achievedat the price
of the agonydetailed in the Gospels.
John Gill's Exposition of the Whole Bible
And he said, Abba, Father,.... In the originaltext, the former of these is a
Syriac word, and the latter a Greek one, explanative of the former, as in
Romans 8:15 and Galatians 4:6 or the repetition is made, to express the
vehemency of his affection, and his strong confidence in God, as his Father,
amidst his distress, as the Syriac version renders it, ‫אבא‬ ‫,יבא‬ "Abba, my
Father":or "my Father, my Father";and so the Ethiopic version:
all things are possible unto thee; so Philo the JewF2, taking notice of Isaac's
question about the burnt offering, and Abraham's answerto it, represents the
latter as adding, in confirmation of it,
"all things are possible to God, and which are both difficult and impossible to
be done by men;'

suggesting, thatGod could easily provide a lamb for a sacrifice;and Christ
here intimates, that every thing consistentwith his perfections, counsels, and
covenant, were possible to be done by him; and how far what he prays for,
was agreeable to these, he submits to him, and to his sovereignwill:
take awaythis cup from me; nevertheless, not what I will, but what thou wilt:
See Gill on Matthew 26:39.
Geneva Study Bible
And he said, h Abba, Father, all things [are] possible unto thee; take awaythis
cup from me: nevertheless notwhat I will, but what thou wilt.
(h) This doubling of the word was usedin those days when their languages
were mixed together: for the word "Abba" is a Syrian word.
John Lightfoot's Commentary on the Gospels
36. And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this
[Abba, Father.] As it is necessaryto distinguish betweenthe Hebrew and
Chaldee idiom in the words Abi, and Abba, so you may, I had almost said, you
must, distinguish of their sense. Forthe word Abi, signifies indeed a natural
father, but withal a civil father also, an elder, a master, a doctor, a magistrate:
but the word Abba, denotes only a natural father, with which we comprehend
also an adopting father: yea, it denotes, My father.
Let no man say to his neighbour, 'My father' is nobler than thy father. "R.
Chaija askedRabhthe sonof his brother, when he came into the land of
Israel, Doth my father live? And he answereth, And doth your mother live?"
As if he should have said, You know your mother is dead, so you may know
your father is dead. "Solomonsaid, Observe ye what my father saith?" So in
the Targum infinite times.

And we may observe in the Holy Scriptures, wheresoevermention is made of
a natural father, the Targumists use the word Abba: but when of a civil
father, they use another word:--
I. Of a natural father.
Genesis 22:7, "And he said, 'Abi,' my father." The Targum reads, "And said,
'Abba,' my father." Genesis 27:34:"Bless me, evenme also 'Abi,' O my
father." The Targum reads, Bless me also, 'Abba,' my father. Genesis 48:18:
Not so, 'Abi,' my father. Targum, Notso, 'Abba,' my father. Judges 11:36:
'Abi,' my father, if thou hast opened thy mouth. Targum, 'Abba,' my father, if
thou hast opened thy mouth. Isaiah 8:4: The Targum reads, before the child
shall know to cry 'Abba,' my father, and my mother. See also the Targum
upon Joshua 2:13, and Judges 14:16, and elsewherevery frequently.
II. Of a civil father.
Genesis 4:20,21:He was 'Abi,' the father of such as dwell in tents. "He was
'Abi,' the father of such as handle the harp," &c. The Targum reads, He was
'Rabba,' the prince or the masterof them. 1 Samuel 10:12:But who is
'Abihem,' their father? Targum, Who is their 'Rab,' masteror prince? 2
Kings 2:12: 'Abi, Abi,' my father, my father. The Targum, Rabbi, Rabbi. 2
Kings 5:13: And they said, 'Abi,' my father. The Targum, And they said,
'Mari,' my Lord. 2 Kings 6:21: 'Abi,' my father, shall I smite them? Targum,
'Rabbi,' shall I kill, &c.
Hence appears the reasonof those words of the apostle, Romans 8:15: Ye have
receivedthe Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. And Galatians
4:6: "Becauseye are sons, God hath sentforth the Spirit of his Son into your
hearts, crying Abba, Father." It was one thing to call God Abi, Father, that is,
Lord, King, Teacher, Governor, &c.;and anotherto callhim Abba, My
Father. The doctrine of adoption, in the proper sense, was altogether
unknown to the Jewishschools (though they boastedthat the people of Israel
alone were adopted by God above all other nations); and yet they calledGod
Father, and our Father, that is, our God, Lord, and King, &c. But "since ye
are sons (saith the apostle), ye cry, Abba, O my Father," in the proper and
truly paternal sense.

Thus Christ in this place, howeverunder an unspeakable agony, and
compassedabouton all sides with anguishments, and with a very cloudy and
darksome providence; yet he acknowledges, invokes, andfinds God his
Father, in a most sweetsense.
We cry, 'Abba,' Father. Did the saints, invoking God, and calling him Abba,
add also Father? Did Christ also use the same addition of the Greek word
Father, and did he repeat the word Abba or Abi? Fatherseems rather here to
be added by Mark, and there also by St. Paul, for explication of the word
'Abba': and this is so much the more probable also, because it is expressed
Father, and not O Father, in the vocative.
Robertson's WordPictures in the New Testament
Abba, Father (Αββα ο πατηρ — Abba ho patēr). Both Aramaic and Greek
and the article with each. This is not a case oftranslation, but the use of both
terms as is Galatians 4:6, a probable memory of Paul‘s childhood prayers.
About “the cup” see note on Matthew 26:39. It is not possible to take the
language ofJesus as fear that he might die before he came to the Cross. He
was heard (Hebrews 5:7.) and helped to submit to the Father‘s will as he does
instantly.
Not what I will (ου τι εγω τελω — ou ti egō thelō). Matthew has “as” (ως —
hōs). We see the humanity of Jesus in its fulness both in the Temptations and
in Gethsemane, but without sin eachtime. And this was the severestofall the
temptations, to draw back from the Cross. The victory over self brought
surrender to the Father‘s will.
Wesley's ExplanatoryNotes
And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this
Abba, Father — St. Mark seems to add the word Father, by way of
explication.

The Fourfold Gospel
And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee1; remove this cup
from me2: howbeit not what I will, but what thou wilt3.
Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee. Reminding the Fatherof the
limitless range of his power, he petitions him to change his counselas to the
crucifixion of the Son, if his gracious purposes canbe in any other way carried
out. Much of mystery is found in all life, so it is small wonder if the dual
nature of Jesus presents insoluble problems. It perplexes many to find that the
divine in Jesus did not sustain him better during his trial in the garden. But
we must remember that it was appointed unto Jesus to die, and that the divine
in him was not to interfere with this appointment, or the approaches to it. For
want, therefore, of a better expression, we may say that from the time Jesus
entered the garden until he expired on the cross, the human in him was in the
ascendant;and "being found in fashion as a man" (Philippians 2:8), he
endured these trials is if wholly human. His prayer, therefore, is the cry of his
humanity for deliverance.
Remove this cup from me. Jesus uses the words "cup" and "hour" (Mark
13:35)here interchangeably. They are both words of broad compass, intended
to include all that he would undergo from that time until his resurrection.
They embrace all his mental, moral, physical, and spiritual suffering which we
can discover, togetherwith an infinite volume of a propitiatory and vicarious
nature which lies beyond the reachof our understanding.
Howbeit not what I will, but what thou wilt. The submission of Jesus was no
new fruitage of his character;the prayer of the garden had been the inner
purpose of his entire life (John 5:30; John 6:38).

James Nisbet's Church Pulpit Commentary
HARMONY OF WILL
‘Nevertheless notwhat I will, but what Thou wilt’
Mark 14:36
As a man, Christ clung closelyto the Father. He did not lose the consciousness
of His Sonship in these trying moments of dark agonising burden and sorrow.
It was Father still, amid the heart-crushing grief. Jesus and the Fatherhad
not two wills betweenthem in relation to a single element of this dark
experience. The Divine and the human were at one. The union was complete—
the acquiescenceperfect.
I. The self-emptying.—But the harmony of the wills—the perfectunion of the
Divine and human—is not all. Christ freely said, ‘Not what I will, but what
Thou wilt,’ to His Father. This expresses a perfectact of self-emptying. The
sorrow was met with a willing mind—a resignedheart. It was His life-long
attitude. This was only the climax of the moral triumph. This was only
obedience unto death. He bare the sins of the transgressors. He ‘offered
Himself without spot unto God’; and thus, through atoning sacrifice, He
condemns sin, secures pardon, and opens the Kingdom of Heaven to all
believers.
II. Gethsemane has its lessons and influences for all our hearts.
(a) How it condemns sin! Who can think of this unutterable woe and suppose
that human sin is a matter of indifference to God? Who canthink of
Gethsemane, and not feel rising within an unutterable revulsion from it?
(b) How it reveals the chiefesthuman virtue and the power by which it may be
attained! Identity of will with the will of God is the foundation, and the sum,
and the crown of human excellence in this and in all worlds. ‘Thy will be
done’ involves in our case—whatit did in Christ’s—readyobedience and
perfect, unmurmuring submission.
(c) How Gethsemane brings the Fatherclose to our hearts in their sorrow and
extremity!

John Trapp Complete Commentary
34 And saith unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowfulunto death: tarry ye
here, and watch.
35 And he went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it
were possible, the hour might pass from him.
36 And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take awaythis
Ver. 36. Abba, Father] Father, Father, with greatestearnestness. This was an
effectualprayer, had he said no more. Godcan feel breath in prayer,
Lamentations 3:56.
Not what I will, but, &c.] Aposiopesis emphatica, saithBeza.
Greek TestamentCriticalExegeticalCommentary
36.]ἀββᾶ = ‫א‬ ַ‫ב‬ ָּ‫,א‬ an Aramaic form, and after Mark’s manner inserted, as
‘Ephphatha,’ ch. Mark 7:34,—‘Talitha cum,’ ch. Mark 5:41 .
ὁ πατήρ is not the interpretation of ἀββᾶ, but came to be attachedto it in one
phrase, as a form of address:see reff. Meyerrightly supplies the ellipsis after
ἀλλʼ: nevertheless, the question is not …: not οὐ γινέσθω, which would not
come into constructionwith τί … τί.

Johann Albrecht Bengel's Gnomonof the New Testament
Mark 14:36. ἀββᾶ ὁ πατὴρ, Abba Father) Mark seems to have added Father,
by way of interpretation: For Matthew, ch. Matthew 26:39; Matthew 26:42,
says that what was saidby Jesus was simply, “My Father:” Luke, ‘Father,’
Matthew 22:42. on the cross, He said Eli, Eli.— τὶ, what) The question in the
case, saithHe, is not what I will, but what Thou wilt.
Justin Edwards' Family Bible New Testament
Abba; a Syriac word, meaning, Father.
This cup; the sufferings that were before him.
Cambridge Greek Testamentfor Schools andColleges
36. καὶ ἔλεγεν. Here again, as in the Institution of the Eucharist, there is
remarkable difference as to the words used; see on Mark 14:22. Lk. gives only
one prayer. Mk gives two and says that the secondwas the same as the first.
Mt. gives three, the seconddiffering from the first, but the third the same as
the second. There is substantial agreementbetweenall three as to the wording
of the first prayer.
Ἀββᾶ ὁ πατήρ. As in Mark 5:41 and Mark 7:34, Mk gives the Aramaic. Christ
spoke both Aramaic and Greek, and it is not improbable that in the opening
address He used first one language and then the other. Repetition, whether in
one language ortwo, is the outcome of strong feeling and is impressive;
Martha, Martha (Luke 10:41), Simon, Simon (Luke 22:31), Jerusalem,
Jerusalem(Matthew 23:37). This is much more probable than that ὁ πατήρis
Mk’s translation of Ἀββᾶ. Translationinjected into such a prayer would be
unnatural. But it is possible that Mk here attributes to Christ a form of
address which had become usual in public worship. Nom. with art. instead of
voc. is freq. in N.T.;see on Mark 5:8. Lk. has πάτερ, Mt. πάτερ μου. See on
Galatians 4:6.

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