Mark 14:32-42
32 And they went to a place called Gethsemane. And he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” 33 And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. 34 And he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.” 35 And going a little farther, he 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 for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” 37 And he came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? 38 Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” 39 And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. 40 And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy, and they did not know what to answer him. 41 And he came the third time and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? It is enough; the hour has come. The Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 42 Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand.”
Today we think particularly of our Lord's agony in Gethsemane. It is clear that this was no ordinary experience of sorrow. There are mysteries here that are too profound for human minds to plumb. What can be the explanation of the sore amazement and heaviness in 33? It cannot be merely that He was shrinking from suffering which many of His followers have down the ages faced, not only without flinching, but also with calm joy. One key to the mystery lies in an understanding of the words 'sore amazed and very heavy'. They describe a cloud which had begun to come over our Saviour's spirit, G. Campbell Morgan interprets the latter phrase as meaning 'away from home' and this penetratingly reveals the nature of that cloud as being one which made Him feel God-forsaken. It was in fact the beginning of the horror of great darkness that culminated in His Cross, in which God did turn away His holy face from Him Who became sin for us. It was not death, in other words, from which He was shrinking, but the death, death as the wages of sin, death that involved the outer darkness. The cup to which He referred was the cup of divine wrath against sin, and this He finally drained to the bitter dregs. Nothing less than this is involved in His being called 'a Man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief'; Gethsemane and Calvary go together, and the one interprets the other. The garden scene was not only an anticipation of the Atonement, but also a participation in it, inasmuch as there He accepted in principle what He actually endured on the Cross.
There is much more in the story of Gethsemane that we must note before passing on. It might be wondered why our Lord should have asked the Father to take away the cup, as if He was not sure that it was God's will, when it was for this that He had come into the world, but this is part of the 'cloud' that had come upon Him, already obscuring the clarity of His spirit. His repeated return to the disciples in the midst of the agony is deeply moving. Why did He do this? He sought solace in His hour of woe from those whom He had called to be with Him. But in His time of need they failed Him. What pathos rings out in His words in 37! The words of Psalm 69:20 express this so fully - 'I am full of heaviness: and I looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none'. And so in deep isolation, He fought the battle alone and entered into peace. That something decisive happened, that the conflict did not remain unresolved, is clear from His demeanour from this point onwards to His Cross. For a great calm seems to have possessed His soul, which none of the subsequent events associated with His trial and crucifixion seemed able to disturb. In acceptance of the divine will for Him, even when it meant this nameless horror of darkness, He found rest and serenity, and victory. It has been suggested that considerable interval of time elapsed between the words 'Sleep on now, and take your rest', and 'It is enough, the hour is come' (42). Certainly the sense seems to demand it, and if this be so, we may picture our Lord sitting quietly watching over His sleeping disciples, waiting for His betrayer to come, waiting in quiet calm thinking thoughts of unutterable love for the world He was about to redeem. It is a picture that brings tears to the eyes, and feelings of wonder and awe, and humiliation and undying devotion, to our hearts!