THE SAVIOR IN
GETHSEMANE
Then Jesus brought them to an olive grove called Gethsemane, and he said,
"Sit here while I go on ahead to pray." Matthew 26:36
'Amid all the unspeakable torment of mind which Jesus suffered during His
stay in Gethsemane, He still appeared in His divine greatness. How much
soever the burden of God's wrath which lay upon Him crushed Him to the
ground, His soul still took courage, and was strongly invigorated through
His confident reliance upon His father.' -Sturm
GETHSEMANE can I forget? or there Your conflict see,
Your agony and bloody sweat, and not remember Thee?
When to the cross I turn my eyes, and rest on Calvary,
O Lamb of God, my sacrifice! I must remember Thee!
Remember You in all Your pains, and all Your love to me;
Yes, while a breath or pulse remains, I will remember Thee!
And when these failing lips grow dumb, and mind and memory flee,
When You shall in Your kingdom come, Jesus remember me.
J. Montgomery.
GETHSEMANE is a name on which the Christian will ever delight to dwell in
devout meditation. On earth its remembrance fills his heart with sublime
joy; while in heaven it will call forth the most elevated and enrapturing
songs to all eternity. And is it not most reasonable that such should be the
case? Can we ever forget a name so sacred in the life of our blessed Savior-
a name, the very mention of which instantly brings to our view some of the
most tender, and painful, and hallowed scenes the world has ever witnessed?
No. It must be a name ever dear to us; and while, in the true spirit of a
Christian, we think of the sorrow and anguish of the Redeemer, whom for our
sakes poured out His soul unto death, we will not fail to remember
Gethsemane with feelings of sorrow and joy, admiration and gratitude.
Oh, my soul, in the calm retreats of the closet, away from the stirring
scenes of this vain passing world, in that place where the sweetest
communion with Heaven is so often enjoyed, seriously contemplate Gethsemane
as the solemn scene of Emmanuel's agony. Think of the sorrows of your
Redeemer, when He became a victim on the altar of divine wrath; when the cup
of trembling, and affliction and anguish was put in His hands; and when He
drank it to the very dregs. Think what a price it cost the Son of God to
redeem your soul from going down to the pit of the lost. See Him descending
from heaven to become a man of sorrows on earth- a bleeding victim in the
garden of Gethsemane, and on the cross of Calvary. See what intense
sufferings He endured when He became the propitiation for our sins. Follow
Him to the last solemn scenes in His divine pilgrimage- to Gethsemane- to
the judgment hall- to Golgotha.
A suffering Savior has procured for us all the felicities of heaven; and
should we not often remember Him in those agonies of His life and His death,
by which such glory was obtained- a glory which surpasses all conception- a
glory which reaches through all eternity- an exceeding and eternal weight of
glory! And while we dwell on the closing scenes of His life on earth- those
scenes of extreme sorrow- can our hearts remain unmoved at a contemplation
so touching, so sublime, so glorious? Oh, may a consideration of this theme
solemnize, elevate, and rejoice our hearts through all the days of our
earthly pilgrimage!
SCENES PRECEDING THE SAVIOR'S SUFFERING. Before tracing the footsteps of our
Savior to the garden of Gethsemane, let us advert to some of the scenes
immediately preceding His sufferings and agony there. After having passed
about three years in the discharge of His public ministry, the time came
that He should, by His death, put away transgression, and make an end of
sin, and make reconciliation for iniquity, and bring in everlasting
righteousness- that He should leave the world, and go to the Father. That
last, painful hour of which He had often spoken- one of the most eventful
since time began- is at hand; and with all His sufferings full in view,
Jesus goes forth, in the vehemency of His love, to agonize, to bleed, and to
die as our atoning representative.
He approaches His agony and death in a manner worthy of His glorious
character as our Mediator, perfectly resigned to the will of Heaven, and
firmly resolved to receive the stroke of divine wrath which the Father was
to inflict on Him as our Surety. Hear Him expressing His acquiescence in the
will of His Heavenly Father, and His resolution to suffer, the just for the
unjust; 'The cup which my Father has given me, shall I not drink it?' 'I
delight to do Your will, O my God: yes, Your law is within my heart.' He
even looks forward with eager desire to the all-important hour when, by His
vicarious sufferings and death, He should break the captive's chains, and
let the oppressed go free. 'I have a baptism to be baptized with; and how am
I straitened until it be accomplished!'
For the purpose of accomplishing the great and glorious designs of divine
grace, the Savior, accompanied by His disciples, goes up to Jerusalem for
the last time. Most truly affecting are the events connected with His
history during that solemn night in which He was betrayed. Guided by the
Word of God, let us view them with the eye of faith; and we shall see in
those actions and sufferings of Jesus that which will cause our hearts to
rejoice with unspeakable joy, and to bless His holy name forever and ever.
The soul of the Redeemer is now to be made an offering for sin; the Lamb of
God is now to bleed on the altar. Now is divine justice to be satisfied; the
plan of salvation accomplished; Satan vanquished; death destroyed; and the
portals of heaven opened to ransomed sinners. 'Now is the judgment of this
world: now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted
up from the earth, will draw all men unto me.' The work to be achieved is
immensely great. No human or angelic arm can execute it; none but a divine
Personage can carry out the mighty plan of redeeming a lost world. And in
view of the vastness of the undertaking, no wonder that even the Savior
Himself should be troubled in His human soul, and that His prayer to His
Heavenly Father should be: 'Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say?
Father, save me from this hour; but for this cause came I unto this hour.'
O blessed Jesus! this was but the commencement of those last, extreme griefs
which You did sustain, when it pleased the Father to bruise You, and to
afflict Your soul for our sins. You had not yet reached the scenes of Your
sufferings in the garden, in the judgment-hall, and on Calvary- You were not
yet covered with a bloody sweat, nor crowned with thorns, nor nailed to the
cross. But even then our sins transferred to You, made Your soul exceeding
sorrowful, and agitated Your whole frame. How amazing the grace that dwells
in You, our suffering, our adorable Redeemer! How brightly did Your
incomparable love shine in that night of sorrow and pain, when You went
forth to agonize in the garden! Oh, may we ever view with new and increasing
delight the wondrous manifestations of Your infinite benevolence to Your
disciples in those solemn moments when You were preparing to leave them and
to die!
THE INSTITUTION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. One of the most precious memorials of
the Savior's dying love was the institution of the Sacramental Supper.
Before going forth to suffer in the garden, He gathers around Himself His
disciples in 'a large upper room' at Jerusalem; and there institutes that
holy ordinance which will be observed by the Church through all time, as
commemorative of His death and redeeming love. The occasion is one of the
greatest interest and solemnity. How beautiful and impressive is the
Scripture narrative of the institution of that sacred commemorative
ordinance! 'Then at the proper time Jesus and the twelve apostles sat down
together at the table. Jesus said, "I have looked forward to this hour with
deep longing, anxious to eat this Passover meal with you before my suffering
begins. For I tell you now that I won't eat it again until it comes to
fulfillment in the Kingdom of God.' Bread and wine, the emblems of a
Savior's broken body and shed blood, are now distributed. 'As they were
eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread and asked God's blessing on it. Then he
broke it in pieces and gave it to the disciples, saying, "Take it and eat
it, for this is my body." And he took a cup of wine and gave thanks to God
for it. He gave it to them and said, "Each of you drink from it, for this is
my blood, which seals the covenant between God and his people. It is poured
out to forgive the sins of many.'
Here we have set before us, the bread of life, and the water of life- that
bread of which if we eat, we shall never hunger; and that water of which if
we drink, we shall never thirst. This is the life of our souls- the fountain
of eternal life and glory. O my soul, come to this living fountain of
waters- this deep, overflowing well of salvation, and quench your thirst in
the never-failing streams; so shall you be refreshed and invigorated for
life's journey and life's conflict, until at length, borne to Paradise by
some appointed messenger from the skies, you shall forever drink of those
crystal streams which flow 'fast by the throne of God.'
'Oh, fountain of eternal life,
Whose streams forever flow,
Spring up within my waiting heart,
And all your bliss bestow.
Refresh my soul with living streams,
Until holy fruits abound;
A chosen tree of righteousness,
On Zion's sacred ground.'
How amazing was the love of Jesus to His disciples in that sad night of His
suffering and betrayal! He is not unmindful of them even in the hour of His
deepest distress, when all the 'waves and billows' of divine wrath are about
to pass over His own soul- when the mysterious agony of Gethsemane, and the
racking torture of Calvary, rise before His vision in all their terrible
forms. To the last He watches over His chosen friends with an eye that never
slumbers, and a heart that never grows cold. So will Jesus command His
blessing upon all those who truly confide in Him as their only hope and
Savior. In a world of sorrowful vicissitudes He will sustain and cheer their
fainting spirits with the ample provisions of His grace; and when the
struggle of life is over, He will bring them, with crowns on their heads,
and palms in their hands, to rejoice eternally with Abraham, Isaac and
Jacob, in the upper room of glory, in the Jerusalem above.
'Having loved His own which were in the world, He loved them unto the end.'
He suffers and dies with them in His heart. Our names are too deeply
engraved in the heart of Jesus to be effaced by all the floods of sorrow
that roll over Him. Nothing can extinguish the ardor of His love for
sinners. Many waters cannot wench this love, neither can the floods drown
it. Oh, the admirable love of Jesus in the hour of His parting with His
disciples- in the hour of the anguish of His soul! Was there ever love, in
earth or heaven, equal unto this?
THE SAVIOR'S VALEDICTORY DISCOURSE. Let us look again at the gracious
conduct of our Lord towards His disciples in that most sorrowful night of
His earthly sojurn, and while He, was still with them in that upper room. In
that solemn hour He seems to forget His near approaching agonies; and
instead of fortifying His own soul against the coming conflict, spends His
last moments in administering comfort to His faithful disciples. After
instituting the sacred supper He delivers His most touching and consolatory
valedictory discourse. Never before was such a discourse uttered. It is full
of the tenderness and love of Emmanuel. The parting words of the blessed
Jesus! What pious heart is not thrilled with a feeling of heavenly rapture
when they are remembered?
And while the last words of the great and the good are carefully treasured
in the mind by surviving friends, should not the dying words of the Lord
Jesus be much more deeply engraved in the hearts of His followers? Where can
we find such last words as those which came from the lips of the Son of God?
In vain will we search for such words of heavenly wisdom as those with which
the Savior closed His public ministry. Truly none ever spoke like Jesus. And
if we would enjoy the greatest comfort, and find the highest pleasure, let
us daily, as His faithful disciples, carefully treasure His sayings. Let us
listen with heartfelt joy to those tones of more than human tenderness and
love, which fall from His lips in that upper room at Jerusalem, while the
eleven disciples are gathered around Him. In the outpouring of His heart He
there speaks of the deep mysteries of the glorious gospel- tells His
sorrowing friends that He is now glorified, and that God is glorified in
Him- reminds them of His sudden departure- commands them to love one
another- gives them His peace- promises them His Holy Spirit- assures those
who He is going to prepare a place for them in those 'many mansions' in His
Father's house; and that he will come again to receive them home to glory.
How the sorrowing hearts of the disciples must have been soothed, and how
their prospects must have brightened, as their divine Lord and Master spoke,
in accents so sweet and so cheering, of those 'many mansions' of glory,
where they are to dwell with Him through a coming eternity, and where there
is room and provisions for all the redeemed! And oh, what Christian pilgrim
does not love to muse on so delightful a representation of heaven, his
abiding, happy home! It is highly pleasing for us thus to think of heaven-
to know that there are 'many mansions' prepared for us in our Father's house
above, and that there is yet room in glory for all who may come to the
Savior. Yes, there is yet room on the golden streets of the New Jerusalem-
room in the presence of the angels of God- room in the presence of the King
of glory. Oh, bow cheering the thought- 'In my Father's house are many
mansion!' 'And yet there is room.'
'My Father's house on high.
Home of my soul, how nigh,
At times, to faith's foreseeing eye,
Your golden gates appear!
Ah! then my spirit faints
To reach the land I love,
The bright inheritance of saints,
Jerusalem above.'
THE SAVIOR'S LAST PRAYER. The Savior now offers that most wonderful and
earnest prayer commencing with these words, 'Father, the hour has come;
glorify your Son that your Son also may glorify You.' He prays for His
disciples, that they may be preserved from the evil of the world, kept in
unity, and sanctified through the truth. 'I pray for them: I pray not for
the world, but for those who You have given me; for they are Yours.' He also
prays for all true believers in all ages of the world. 'Neither pray I for
these alone; but for those also who shall believe on me through their word.'
It is not the will of Christ that the heirs of glory, those whom He has
redeemed with His precious blood, should be long separated from Him in this
valley of tears. And this constrains Him to offer that fervent petition,
that they might be with Him in the heavenly home, to behold His glory, and
to share with Him in that glory which He had with the Father before the
foundation of the world. 'Father, I desire that those also whom You have
given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory which You
have given me.'
What most encouraging words are these for the disciples of Jesus, who are
still struggling amid the sorrows and the conflicts of the present life! How
glorious the hope of the believer! To be forever with Christ; to behold His
glory; to enjoy His blessed society- this is heaven; this is the Paradise of
God! This is what will constitute that fullness of joy which awaits the
redeemed in those mansions of light beyond the shadowy valley of mortality.
That all His sincere followers may enjoy this untold blessedness, Jesus
prays on the very eve of His sufferings and death.
THE SAVIOR GOES WITH HIS DISCIPLES TO GETHSEMANE. The last prayer is now
made. The hymn which closes the solemnity is sung; and the Savior,
accompanied by His disciples, goes from that upper room, where He had
uttered such heavenly words. 'And when they had sung a hymn, they went out
unto the mount of Olives.' 'When Jesus had spoken these words, He went forth
with His disciples over the brook Kedron, where was a garden, into which He
entered, and His disciples.' Let us follow that little band to the scene of
the Savior's agony. It is in the stillness of the night. The full-orbed moon
is, perhaps, shining upon them as, in that solemn hour, they pass along the
streets of Jerusalem towards the eastern gates. (It will be remembered, that
the Passover was always observed at full And the fact of the moon being full
at the time of the Savior's agony and death, proves that the extraordinary
eclipse which took place while He was extended on the cross, was
supernatural.) Leaving the city they descend Mount Moriah, and crossing the
brook Kedron, soon arrive at the entrance of the garden of Gethsemane,
situated at the foot of the Mount of Olives. This valley of the Kedron, with
its large, spreading olive-trees, was a favorite spot with our Lord in the
days of His public ministry. To the garden there He frequently resorted for
meditation and prayer. Away from the noise and bustle of the crowded city,
He loved, after enduring the heat and burden of the day, to meditate and
pray in Gethsemane- a spot so favorable for repose, reflection, and
devotion. There He had enjoyed the sweetest communion with His Father, and
our Father, while, at the same time, His human nature was strengthened for
the discharge of His mediatorial work; and there He had often retired with
His disciples at evening, to talk to them of the things pertaining to the
kingdom of heaven. For the last time in His divine pilgrimage, He now comes
to this silent retreat, that He might drink His cup of agony, and prepare
Himself for the death of the cross. Let us attentively consider Him as He
approaches the garden with His eleven sorrowful disciples. With what a sad
countenance does the Savior enter its peaceful enclosure, amid the gloom of
that eventful night! Never before had He approached that garden-gate with a
heart so full of sorrow.
'Then Jesus brought them to an olive grove called Gethsemane, and he said,
Sit here while I go on ahead to pray.' How interesting, momentous, and
solemn the period! The hour has come when our blessed Surety voluntarily
suffers for us; but oh, who can describe that dreadful agony of soul which
He endures when the Lord lays on Him the iniquity of it is all! Oh, the
horrors of that hour, when Jesus, our Surety, appeared at the bar of Divine
Justice, and paid the penalty for us sinners, that we Might escape! Oh,
sacred night, from whose bosom the brightest morning-star of hope and
consolation has risen upon us, although with a blood-red light!'
THE SAVIOR'S AGONY. Leaving eight of His disciples at the entrance of the
garden, Christ takes with Him Peter, James, and John, a short distance from
the rest, and begins to be exceeding sorrowful and sad, even unto death.
'Then Jesus brought them to an olive grove called Gethsemane, and he said,
Sit here while I go on ahead to pray.' The storm of divine wrath is now
ready to break on Him. All at once His soul is crushed with grief to the
point of death. He is seized with an indescribable anguish which overwhelms
Him. Though a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief, He had never before
experienced such sorrow as that which now presses Him to the ground, with
strong crying and tears unto Him that was able to save Him from death. The
words of Jeremiah are now accomplished, in the suffering Savior- 'Lord, see
my anguish! My heart is broken and my soul despairs.... My groans are many,
and my heart is faint.' Withdrawing about a stone's throw from His three
favored disciples, He first kneels down, and then falls on His face on the
ground, and, in His deep distress, pours forth His earnest supplications to
His Heavenly Father: 'My Father! If this cup cannot be taken away until I
drink it, Your will be done.' Rising up from prayer, He goes with fainting
footsteps to His three disciples, that He might perhaps find some sympathy
in His unspeakable anguish; when, strange to say, He finds them sleeping.
'And He came unto the disciples, and found them asleep.' It is surprising,
indeed, that the disciples should be sunk in deep sleep when their divine
Lord and Savior is enduring such anguish of soul for their sakes- when He is
preparing to leave them- when He is only a step from the cross. The
suffering Savior first gently reproves them, and afterwards excuses their
weakness. 'What! could you not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that
you enter not into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh
is weak.' How wonderful the compassion of Christ to weak humanity! How long
He bears with the infirmities of His followers, while He seeks to promote
their best interests.
Leaving His three disciples a second time, He again recedes a few paces,
falls upon the ground, and offers the prayer- 'O my Father, if this cup may
not pass away from me, unless I drink it, Your will be done.' Oh, what a
prayer is this! So vehement, so importunate, manifesting in the Savior such
perfect reliance on the will of heaven. Rising from the ground the second
tune He goes to His disciples, and again finds them overwhelmed with sleep,
'sleeping for sorrow.' A third time, He withdraws into solitude, falls upon
the ground, and in the extreme anguish of His soul, offers the same earnest
prayer- 'O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me unless I drink
it, Your will be done.' The storm of spiritual conflict which had all along
been increasing, now breaks in its violence over the Savior. Now does He
drink the bitter cup of sorrow to its very dregs- now does He endure the
wrath of God- now does He struggle with the powers of darkness. Listen to
the, bitter complaints of the Savior in His unspeakable sufferings for us
sinners: 'The enemy pursues me, he crushes me to the ground; he makes me
dwell in darkness like those long dead. So my spirit grows faint within me;
my heart within me is dismayed.' Oh, how intense are the sufferings of our
blessed Redeemer! His human nature is ready to sink under the anguish of His
soul. His Father's smiling countenance is withdrawn from Him in these
moments of darkness and distress. No human arm supports the solitary
Sufferer of Gethsemane in this dread midnight hour.
A messenger from the skies is, at length, sent to strengthen His exhausted
frame. 'And there appeared an angel unto Him from heaven, strengthening
Him.' How deep the humiliation of our blessed Lord, that He should receive
the assistance of an angel- a creature! Here we see Jesus made a little
lower than the angels for the sufferings of death. The promise is now
strikingly fulfilled- 'He shall give His angels charge over You, to keep You
in all Your ways. They shall bear You up in their hands, lest You dash Your
foot against a stone'
But the conflict is not yet ended. Another dreadful wave of sorrow comes
over the Redeemer's soul, causing Him to sink in an indescribable agony to
the ground to pray yet more earnestly- to weep in blood. It is now the
darkest and most painful part of the conflict. The prophecy of the Psalmist
is now accomplished, 'The sorrows of death compassed me, and the floods of
ungodly men made me afraid. The sorrows of hell compassed me about; death
itself stared me in the face. In my distress I called upon the Lord, and
cried unto my God.' While pouring out His soul before His Heavenly Father,
in that earnest, thrice-uttered prayer, He is in a mysterious AGONY- an
agony so great, and so piercing, that a bloody sweat breaks from His sacred
body, and flows down in streams, moistening the ground on which He had
fallen. 'And being in an agony, He prayed more earnestly: and His sweat was
as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.' That remarkable
prediction is now fulfilled in the prostrated and agonizing Savior. 'O my
God, I cry in the daytime, but You hear not; and in the night season, and am
not silent. I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint;
my heart is like wax: it is melted within me.'
On His pale brow the drops are large and red.
As victim's blood at votive altar shed
His hands are clasped, His eyes are raised in prayer
Alas, and is there strife He cannot bear,
Who calmed the tempest, and who raised the dead?
There is! there is! for now the powers of hell
Are struggling for the mastery- 'tis is the hour
When death exerts his last permitted power,
When the dread weight of sin, since Adam fell,
Is visited on Him who deigned to dwell
A man with men, that He might bear the stroke
Of wrath divine, and break the captive's yoke.
But oh, of that dread strife, what words can tell?
Those, only those which broke, with many a groan,
From His full heart- "O Father, take away
The cup of vengeance I must drink today-
Yet, Father, not My will, but Yours, be done!"
Oh, how strong were the cries, and how bitter the tears of Jesus in that
hour, when God the Father poured upon Him a flood of wrath- when the sword
of divine justice pierced His inmost soul- when the blood gushed from every
pore of His sacred body! He is exhausted with crying for deliverance, while
the waves of sorrow, the waters of affliction, break over Him; while the
arrows of the Almighty are within Him, the poison whereof drinks up His
Spirit, while the terrors of God set themselves in array against Him. Here
we behold the Son of God fallen on the ground, and with intense bitterness
of spirit, complaining of His great agony, and earnestly crying to His
Heavenly Father for deliverance. How heavy the burden that lies upon His
shoulders! The ponderous burden of the guilt of millions. How bitter are His
complaints, and with what a full heart does He pour them out before the
Lord! In Him are truly accomplished the words of the Psalmist- 'I have come
into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. I am weary of my crying; my
throat is dried; my eyes fail while I wait for my God.'
How tranquil does all nature seem to be, while the Lord of the universe thus
writhes in agony, and weeps in blood! There is, perhaps, scarcely a sound to
be heard, save the gentle murmurs of the Kedron, or the stirring of the
passing breeze, or the rustling of the spreading olive trees. Midnight's
mantle covers the land, and all around is sweet and tranquil, while in the
deep and dark recesses of Gethsemane, a piercing agony is crushing the heart
of the Man of sorrows, and an angel is wiping the bloody sweat from His
aching brow.
'Tis midnight; and on Olivet's brow
The Star is dimmed that lately shone;
'Tis midnight, in the garden, now,
The suffering Savior prays alone.
'Tis midnight; and from all removed,
The Savior wrestles alone, with fears;
Even that disciple whom He loved
Heeds not His Master's grief and tears.
'Tis midnight; and for others' guilt
The Man of sorrows weeps in blood;
Yet he that has in anguish knelt,
Is not forsaken by His God.
'Tis midnight; and from ether plains
Is borne the song that angels know;
Unheard by mortals are the strains
That sweetly soothe the Savior's woe.
Oh, my Savior, how extreme must have been Your sufferings at that solemn and
eventful moment, when Your sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling
on the hallowed ground of Gethsemane! What fear, what amazement, what
horror, then seized upon Your holy soul! Who ever suffered thus? Oh, once
afflicted Redeemer, none can comprehend the nature or severity of Your
sufferings in the garden! None can tell low great was that spiritual
conflict which forced Your life's blood from You. We must leave the mystery
of that appalling scene for eternity to unfold in all its greatness, and in
all its glorious results.
Let us often repair to Gethsemane, and witness that most solemn scene, when,
on the ground and amid the gloom of midnight, our blessed Savior offered,
'with strong crying and tears,' that thrice-uttered prayer, 'O my Father, if
it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but
as You will.' With the eye of faith let us contemplate our Redeemer as He
lay agonizing for us in that fearful hour, the hour and the power of
darkness, when the sorrows of death encompassed Him, and when the pains of
hell got hold upon Him, when He was red in His apparel, and His garments
were like him that treads in the wine-press; when He was treading the
wine-press of God's wrath alone.
'But now, see where He lies
On the cold ground, exposed to thick, dark air,
And all the fury of the maddening skies!
See how each nerve and vein
Trembles and throbs with torture! how His eyes
Start from their seat with anguish and despair!
What drops of sanguine sweat roll down again
From His fair limbs! "O Father, O remove,
If possible, this cup, yet not My will,
But Yours he done!" O agonizing love!'
But at length the affecting scene of the Savior's mighty agony draws to a
close. The thrice-uttered prayer is offered to His Heavenly Father, and
though the bitter cup does not pass His lips, yet He is strengthened to
drink it. 'He shall drink of the brook in the way therefore shall He lift up
the head.' He knew it was for this purpose He had come into the world, that
He might suffer 'many things,' and as the Lamb of God, atone for our sins.
'For this cause I came unto this hour.' And for the joy set before Him, He
patiently endures all His sufferings. Amid His bitterest complaints are
still heard these words of cheerful resignation; 'Father, not my will, but
Yours be done.' The third time He rises from the ground, now moistened with
His blood, goes to His disciples, and says to them, 'Are you still sleeping
and resting? Look, the hour is near, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the
hands of sinners. Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer!'
THE SAVIOR'S BETRAYAL. The eventful hour of Christ's betrayal has come. In
the deep of night a multitude of men, armed with swords, staves, and spears,
are sent to seize the agonizing Savior. Having descended Mount Moriah, and
crossed the Kedron, their lanterns and torches are seen glistering amid the
gloomy bushes of the valley, as they approach the garden, now consecrated by
the sufferings of the Holy and the Just One. Coming up to the pale and
bleeding Savior, the traitor gives the appointed sign for His apprehension.
'Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?' falls from the lips
of the meek and lowly Jesus. And now as the band of soldiers approach Him,
Jesus said, Whom do you seek? They said, Jesus of Nazareth. He said, I am
He. But no sooner are these words uttered than that whole murderous band
fall to the ground like dead men. What a striking exhibition of divine power
in the Man of Nazareth! A ray of His divinity shines forth, and His enemies
stagger and fall to the ground, as if struck by a thunderbolt. This shows
that the sufferings of Christ were voluntary; for in the very midst of His
greatest distress, while His friends were preparing to desert Him, and flee
for their own safety, He could call to His aid legions of holy angels, and
crush His enemies by a single blow. 'Don't you know that I can now pray to
my Father, and He shall presently give me more than twelve legions of
angels?' 'The chariots of God are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels:
the Lord is among them, as in Sinai, in the holy place.' Without His own
consent, Christ could not have been delivered into the hands of sinners.
'But how then shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be?' How
shall the salvation of a lost world be accomplished unless the Lamb of God
bleeds and dies?
The holy and the innocent Jesus is at length seized, while the disciples
forsake Him and flee? The remarkable prediction of Zechariah is now
accomplished- 'Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, the man who is my
partner, says the Lord Almighty. Strike down the shepherd, and the sheep
will be scattered...' He who 'was not rebellious, neither turned away back,'
is bound and hurried away through the streets of Jerusalem to the house of
the high priest, and to the judgment hall, there to be scourged, and mocked,
and condemned to the ignominious and excruciating death of the cross. The
tragic scene of His crucifixion on Calvary will be the theme of the
following essay. In the meantime, let us reflect on some of the important
and sacred lessons, which the sufferings of Jesus in the garden impart for
our edification and consolation in the divine life, until we are prepared to
enter upon those scenes of seraphic joy in heaven- until we there behold, in
the midst of the throne, 'the Lamb that had been slain,' the once suffering
Man of Gethsemane and Calvary- until we there learn the new song of Moses
and the Lamb, and forever celebrate the wonders of redeeming love, and the
mystery which has been hidden from ages and from generations.
THE CAUSE OF THE SAVIOR'S AGONY. Here we may inquire, What was the procuring
cause of our Lord's agony in Gethsemane? Why was He so deeply afflicted
there? Why did such inexpressible agony seize upon Him? Why did those large
drops of blood flow from His sacred body? Why was His human nature thus
smitten by the penal fires of Heaven's wrath? That grief which He bore could
not have been for the sins of His own soul; for He was holy, harmless, and
undefiled, separate from sinners. He did no sin, neither was any deceit
found in His mouth. It could not have arise from the natural fear of death;
for there being no inherent sin in His Person, there could have been no
sting in His death, as in the case of fallen man. 'The sting of death is
sin.' Did His deep distress arise from the fear of enduring the painful
death of the cross? No. Could the Savior have displayed less courage the
multitudes of His faithful followers, who have endured death in its most
excruciating forms, that they must pass to glory and immortality, and wear
the martyr's crown? Oh, no; it was not such fear that took hold upon the
Savior in Gethsemane's peaceful enclosure and that led Him to pray so
earnestly for the removal of the cup of horrors He was then tasting.
What then wrung out those bitter complaints from the heart of the Man of
sorrows, which melted His very soul for heaviness? 'Oh, my Father, if it be
possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as You
will.' It was our sins, imputed to Him, that caused the Lord of glory thus
to agonize. God the Father made Him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that
we might be made the righteousness of God in Him. Yes, in that terrible
hour, when Jesus was stretched in agony, the dreadful weight of our sins was
laid upon Him as our surety and atoning representative. He then bore the
stroke of divine wrath, which, if He had not received, must, have been
inflicted upon us sinners to all eternity. Thus He endured all that weight
of grief for our sakes. He was made sorrowful for us, that we might rejoice
forever in the heavenly mansions. He suffered those indescribable pains for
us, that night, be permitted to enter that land respecting which it is said,
'Neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed
away.' He was bruised for us, that the precious balm of the gospel of His
grace might be poured into our wounds- that all our moral maladies might be
healed- and that eternal health, strength, beauty, and excellency might be
ours, when mortality is swallowed up of life.
Oh, let us ever keep this glorious, soul-entrancing truth before our eyes-
that our divine Redeemer suffered in Gethsemane and on Calvary, as the
Mediator of a lost world, as our satisfying Substitute, who has borne our
grief's, and carried our sorrows, and on whom the Lord has laid the iniquity
of us all! In this light it will be always delightful for us to view the
solemn scene of Gethsemane; while the sacred lessons we learn from it will
promote our spiritual and eternal well-being. We will then, even while on
earth, learn much of the deep and sacred mysteries of Emmanuel's agony. We
will then see a glory beaming amid the gloom of that dread night to cheer
the Christian pilgrim on life's weary way; to scatter the darkness of the
tomb and to fill heaven with rapturous joy and unceasing praise.
THE EVIL OF SIN DEMONSTRATED FROM THE SAVIOR'S AGONY. From the sufferings of
Jesus in Gethsemane, we may see the great evil of sin, and the fearfulness
being ourselves compelled to bear the punishment due to our transgressions
through all eternity. Ah! was it sin that caused such inexpressible agony in
the Savior's human soul, when as our Substitute He bore our guilt, and made
atonement for our sins? Did our sins bring on Him all that 'indignation and
wrath, tribulation and anguish, which caused His heart to melt like wax in
the midst of His affections, forcing from Him that mysterious bloody sweat,
and constraining Him to pray yet more earnestly? What an evil then must that
be which caused a God of love thus to bruise His only begotten and well
beloved Son! When Christ assumed our guilt, and undertook to pay the penalty
of a violated law, God the Father could not spare Him. He must be
encompassed with grief, and overwhelmed with sorrow; the sword of divine
justice must awake against Him, and smite Him; He must be brought to the
dust of death, even the death of the cross. If we had not sinned, we would
never have need of a Savior 'being in an agony.' Oh, that we could grieve
from our inmost soul for those sins which caused our blessed Redeemer to
agonize in the garden! Let us mourn over these sins with a godly sorrow,
while at the same time we admire the boundless compassion of the suffering
Jesus for our guilty souls; while we adore His name for condescending, in
His incomparable love, to suffer in our room and stead.
Here a solemn question arises, If the Son of God thus suffered when He
undertook to reconcile an apostate world to offended Heaven, how shall those
who finally reject the only Savior- the only sacrifice for sin- the great
salvation- stand before a holy and righteous God to answer for their
numberless and aggravated transgressions? When such people open their eyes
in the next world, a world of retribution; what fearfulness, and anguish,
and despair will seize upon their lost spirits through that terrible night
of 'the blackness of darkness' reserved for the finally impenitent! Oh, how
insupportable must be the weight of the wrath of God, who is a consuming
fire to all the workers of iniquity! It is truly a fearful thing to fall
into the hands of the living God. But oh, once agonizing Savior, let us not
despair of Your pardoning mercy, while the door of life is yet open, while
You are yet calling to us in tones of unutterable compassion to come to You,
that we may have life; and while we remember that those sufferings of Yours
in Gethsemane were endured for sinners, even the vilest of the vile. Oh,
grant us an interest in Your vicarious sacrifice. May we feel that the
oppressive burden of our guilt has been removed from our shoulders, and
borne by You, Oh bleeding Lamb of God. May those sweet words now sound in
our ears like enrapturing music from the sties- 'There is, therefore, now no
condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.' Sinful and unworthy as we
are, still may we repair at once to You as our only hiding-place, our only
refuge from the storm of divine vengeance, from the wrath to come. Oh, hide
us in Gethsemane, until the voyage of life is ended, until every storm is
past, until every wave is stilled, until we reach those blissful shores,
those 'ever verdant vales and sunny hills,' where sin shall no more enter to
defile; where pain shall be no longer experienced; where we shall obtain joy
and gladness; and where sorrow and sighing shall forever flee away!
'Oppressed with grief, overwhelmed with fear,
Where can I find a refuge near?
Dear Savior, unto You I flee,
Oh! hide me in Gethsemane.
My sins assume an awful form;
Around I view the rising storm;
I fly, my only Lord, to Thee,
Oh! hide me in Gethsemane.
In that sweet garden You did bear
Of guilt and pain my awful share;
Your bleeding form methinks I see
Extended in Gethsemane.
Oh! fill my heart with fervent love;
To You, let each affection move;
From sin preserve me ever free,
While sheltered in Gethsemane.'
PRAYER THE GRAND SOURCE OF CONSOLATION IN TEMPTATION AND AFFLICTION. One of
the most important truths the sufferings of Christ teaches us is, that
prayer is the grand source of consolation to the children of God in seasons
of temptation and affliction. 'Who among you afflicted? let him pray.' And
the greater our sorrows and our conflicts, the more earnest and importunate
should be our supplications. When our heart is overwhelmed and in
perplexity, let us draw near to God, who, in His super-abounding mercy has
said: 'Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver you, and you shall
glorify me.' When we see that the darkest clouds are rising- that a furious
storm of affliction is impending- let us, like our blessed Savior, go to Him
who is able to save our souls from death, and say in the language of faith:
'Oh, my Father- my Heavenly Father- let this bitter cup of sorrow, this
heavy trial, pass from me; nevertheless, not my will, but Yours, be done.'
Let us go repeatedly to our Heavenly Father in prayer for relief from our
oppressive burdens, or support under them.
Our Savior prayed three times most earnestly before the burden on His soul
was made lighter. The more His sorrows increased, the more earnestly He
prayed. His perseverance in prayer was indefatigable. Paul prayed three
times before he received the answer: 'My grace is sufficient for you; for my
strength is made perfect in weakness.' Let us then follow the example of
Christ and His faithful servants, and never give up prayer until God removes
our cup of sorrow, or gives us grace and strength to accept it with perfect
composure.
And let us see that in all things we resign ourselves to the will of God.
Thus did Jesus. 'Though He was a Son, yet learned He obedience by the things
which He suffered.' Then may we look up with confidence to Him, who has
suffered for us, and made our burden light indeed, and say 'When the clouds
of adversity darken my prospects, and the night of sorrow obscures my way,
then, O blessed Jesus, support my fainting steps, cheer my drooping soul
with Your celestial promises, and give me strength and courage equal to my
day.'
In all our afflictions and trials- and in this world we shall have many
tribulations- may we be enabled to say, after the example of our Lord and
Savior- 'Not my will, but Yours, be done.'
My God and Father, while I stray
Far from my home, on life's rough way,
Oh, teach me from the heart to say,
"Your will be done!"
If You should call me to resign
What, most I prize; 'twas never mine;
I only yield You what was Yours;
"Your will be done!"
Renew my will from day to day,
Blend it with Yours, and take away
All that now makes it hard to say,
"Your will be done!"
Then, when on earth I breathe no more
The prayer, often mixed with tears before,
I'll sing upon a happier shore,
"Your will be done!"
Though the bitterest cup of human woe should be put into our hands by our
Heavenly Father, yet may we receive it with composure, and say, in imitation
of the example of the Son of God, our Savior, 'The cup which my Father has
given me, shall I not drink it?' If Christians were to be always in such a
happy frame of mind in seasons of adversity, how much more composed would
they be even in this world of temptation and tribulation- this land of
darkness, and of the shadow of death! Feeling assured that all things were
working together for their good, they would even rejoice amid all their
tribulations, knowing that tribulation works patience; and patience,
experience; and experience, hope. In the gloomiest hour of earthly trial,
they would discern beyond the storms of life the glorious sunshine of
eternal day; while, at the same time, they would feel that every wave of
sorrow and affliction was only bearing them nearer the peaceful and happy
shore.
Let the afflicted believer be inspired with consolation from a consideration
of the brevity of his trials, and the eternal weight of glory which is to
succeed life's momentary ills. Though Jesus endured so much suffering, yet
the conflict was soon over: and now He who was once stretched in the garden
of Gethsemane- trembling in every limb, and bleeding from every pore- is
exalted to the throne of the universe in yonder heavens, and reigns supreme
Lord of all. His struggle with human infirmity- with sin- with the powers of
darkness, is over forever! So it will shortly be with you, His sincere
follower; and the end will be as glorious- for the same glory that the
Father has given the Son, shall be given by Christ to all those who enter
the gates of the celestial city.
Your affliction, besides being light- especially in comparison with the
sufferings of Jesus- is also momentary. The cup of eternal salvation is just
ready to be given you. The last rough wave shall soon bear you safely home
to the desired haven of immortal felicity- to the sunny shores of Emmanuel's
land- to the Paradise of God, where the song is continually sung of the Lamb
that was slain, and where hearts, that were once crushed with anguish on
earth, shall overflow with joy through endless ages; for God shall there
wipe away the last tear from every eye. Oh, then, how delightful will it be
to think of the sorrows of earth's pilgrimage, while crowned with all the
bliss of the heavenly home! Then with our once agonizing, but now exalted
and glorified Redeemer, we shall walk the golden streets of the New
Jerusalem, robed in garments of glory, and forever enjoy all that felicity
which the mind, in this imperfect state, utterly fails to comprehend.
THE LOVE OF THE SAVIOR MANIFESTED IN HIS AGONY. The agony of Jesus in
Gethsemane affords us an evidence of the most amazing love- a token of the
greatest benevolence to our guilty race. Here we have one of the brightest
displays of that supreme, unutterable mercy which constrained the only
begotten Son of God to leave the bosom of the Father and the joys of heaven,
that He might bear the stroke of divine vengeance due to man for sin, and
ransom us from the fearful haunts of eternal darkness and woe. Here is
grace- abounding grace- the exceeding riches of grace- the unsearchable
riches of Christ. The love of Jesus in thus suffering for sinful, erring
man, is a theme so mighty, so astonishing, so mysterious, that the highest
intelligences in the celestial world fail to measure its vast dimensions,
though they are continually studying it with intense thought. It is a love
so amazing, and so glorious in its manifestations and in its results, that
it will fill all heaven with new songs of praise through the ages of
eternity. Yes, we believe that after millions of ages shall have passed, the
remembrance of the unparalleled love of the Son of God, in submitting to His
last sufferings in the garden, and on the cross, will call forth, if
possible, even sweeter songs than were heard on the golden plains of heaven,
when the whole company of the redeemed first struck 'their harps, and sang:
Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom,
and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing.'
As the saints in heaven will be continually advancing in divine knowledge,
they will be better able, after the lapse of so many ages of blissful study,
to comprehend the vastness of the love of a once agonizing Redeemer- a love
which human language entirely fails to unfold in all its length, and
breadth, and depth, and height. While musing on this wondrous theme, it
extends before us like a boundless and unfathomable ocean- an ocean in which
the mind even of the loftiest seraph is lost in wonder, delight, and
admiration.
'What depth of sovereign love,
What breadth before me lies!
Its height is heaven above,
Its length exceeds the skies.
An ocean deep and wide,
Where angel minds are lost,
An ever-swelling tide,
Refreshing every coast.'
It is, then, a love immeasurable, eternal, stronger than death, which leads
Christ to the garden of Gethsemane, there to endure His mysterious agony,
and to make His soul an offering for sin. Oh, the amazing grace of our Lord
Jesus Christ! As none ever endured such unspeakable anguish of soul as the
divine Sufferer of Gethsemane, so none ever manifested such incomprehensible
love. Here we would pause, and exclaim: 'O love divine, how do our hearts
expand at the contemplation of Your beauty! How blissful it is to escape
from a selfish world to meditate on you, to sun ourselves in your light, and
to know that we are reposing on your bosom. What a happiness is this- what a
foretaste of heaven in the house of our pilgrimage! O love, stronger than
death, and more invincible than the grave, never depart from our view! Oh,
be the star to shine upon us day and night; and the colder the wind of a
self loving world blows upon us during our sojourn here below, the more
brightly do you display to the eyes of our spirits the gracious radiance of
your heavenly beauty!
Now, do we not desire to love Christ supremely, who is so much fairer than
the children of men, and who has manifested the highest benevolence and
compassion to us? Shall we any longer place our holiest affections on
created and perishing objects, withholding them from Him who is altogether
lovely? Shall we any longer despise so compassionate a Redeemer? In the
exercise of genuine faith, let us forthwith repair to Gethsemane, and behold
Him bowed to the ground in agony, struggling for us, that we might be
elevated from our misery, and drink forever of the cup of salvation. Look at
Him, withdrawn a short distance from His disciples, praying and agonizing in
solitude. Oh, will we not be moved by the sight of the blessed Jesus,
trembling for us with mysterious fear- overwhelmed with indescribable
anguish- His sweat falling like blood-drops on the ground?
This is the glorious One whose sufferings and whose majesty are so expressly
described in these remarkable words; 'Who is this who comes from Edom, from
the city of Bozrah, with his clothing stained red? Who is this in royal
robes, marching in the greatness of his strength? "It is I, the Lord,
announcing your salvation! It is I, the Lord, who is mighty to save!" Why
are your clothes so red, as if you have been treading out grapes? "I have
trodden the winepress alone; no one was there to help me. In my anger I have
trampled my enemies as if they were grapes. In my fury I have trampled my
foes. It is their blood that has stained my clothes. For the time has come
for me to avenge my people, to ransom them from their oppressors. I looked,
but no one came to help my people. I was amazed and appalled at what I saw.
So I executed vengeance alone; unaided, I passed down judgment.'
Will not the sorrows which Christ endured for our sakes inspire us with an
earnest love to Him, with a living confidence in His vicarious mediation,
with a humble reliance on the infinite merits of His atoning sacrifice? Hear
Him ask from the depth of His soul, which, amid the appalling scene of
Gethsemane, was exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: 'Is it nothing to you,
all you who pass by? behold, and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow,
which is done unto me, with which the Lord has afflicted me in the day of
His fierce anger.' Oh, then, let us love the Savior with all our hearts.
Blessed Jesus, may we remember You in the various scenes of Your divine
pilgrimage, when You were engaged in accomplishing the work of redemption-
in healing the sick, in imparting sight to the blind, in giving feet to the
lame, in stilling the tempest, in raising the dead; but in an especial
manner may we think of You in that last, eventful night, when Your soul was
exceeding sorrowful, when the sins of a multitude which no man can number
pressed You to the ground in agony, and when there appeared an angel unto
You from heaven, strengthening Your exhausted frame. Oh, may we remember You
in a way that will bring glory to God, and peace to our souls. May our faith
be in lively exercise, while our hearts overflow with love to You, our great
and glorious Redeemer, whose deepest anguish has procured for us the most
rapturous joy. May all that is within us be stirred up to magnify Your holy
name for such a wonderful manifestation of divine grace. Oh, may we see You
as the Lamb of God, our sacrifice, wounded and bruised for our
transgressions, suffering more than the mind can conceive, that we might be
at rest and enjoy the smiles of a reconciled God through all the ages of
immortality.
How wonderful Your compassion, how strong Your love, how constant Your
faithfulness to the children of men! Oh, look in pity upon us pilgrims
journeying through a land of darkness, temptation, and sorrow. Oh, be our
guide through all the varying scenes of life- our support in death- our
bliss through eternity. Enfold us in the arms of Your love; impart to us
Your peace; dwell in our hearts by faith; and guide us in the way to
heavenly glory. May we be enabled cheerfully to take up our cross daily, and
follow You continually, knowing that though we may be called to pass through
fire and water, yet You will at length bring us out into a wealthy place,
even to the heaven of heavens. Subdue the power of sin in our souls, and
make us Yours in truth and sincerity. On You may we be enabled to roll the
burden of our sin; for You only can bear it. Oh, may we feel the sweet,
transforming influence of Your blessed Spirit filling our souls with sacred
love, and peace, and joy.
May the solemn scene of Your sufferings in Gethsemane make a deep and
abiding impression on our hearts, and cause us to love You more, and serve
You better than we have ever done. What gratitude do we owe You, our
suffering Savior, for what You have performed in our room and stead! Blessed
be Your name for bearing the wrath of offended Heaven for us- for becoming
obedient to those bitter agonies, and that painful, accursed death, that we
might enjoy an eternity of bliss in the celestial Paradise. May we ever
trust in You; rejoice in Your name; and magnify Your love. May You be the
glory and the joy of our hearts through time; and in yonder realms of light
and felicity, where You are ever present, and where saints and angels dwell,
may we enjoy Your society, and with the choirs of the heavenly host,
celebrate Your praise through the Sabbath of eternity.
Let the disciple of the Savior, in his devout meditations, often endeavor to
bring the solemn scene of Gethsemane home to his heart. And oh, while we
muse on the mysterious agony of Jesus, may our souls be touched with that
godly sorrow which works repentance to salvation not to be repented of. Let
us pray earnestly for clearer evidences of an interest in the sufferings of
the Savior, and in the atonement which He has made.
While, we reflect on His agony in the garden, let us learn to bear up
patiently under our own brief trials. How little are the afflictions of our
earthly pilgrimage compared with those endured by Him, who, through all His
life on earth, was a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief- whose visage
was so marred more than any man, and His form more than the sons of men! By
His sufferings Christ has sweetened the cup of human woe, and smoothed the
path of affliction. And every Christian should be ready to exclaim, as he
traces the footsteps of the Savior from Gethsemane to Calvary- 'Blessed are
you to us, you rough, toilsome pathway through the dust! The footsteps of
the Son of God have distinguished you; you have been moistened with His
blood. Can you conduct us elsewhere than to Him? Oh! with silent
resignation, with steadfast, manly firmness, will we pursue you, so long as
our Father commands. We know, from the example of our Redeemer, how you end;
what a victory awaits the faithful ones who follow the Son of God.'
The trials of earth will not harm us, for they are ordered by infinite love,
and designed to sanctify and prepare us for the pure, and holy, and blissful
employments of heaven. Death itself will now be our unspeakable gain, since
our Savior by his sufferings has dispelled its gloom, and from the swellings
of Jordan opened a pathway to the glory of the celestial Canaan. Once more,
as you turn to Gethsemane-
'Bring the thrilling scene
Home to your inmost soul- the Sufferer's cry,
"Father, if it be possible, this cup may You
Take away- Yet not my will, but Yours."
The sleeping friends who could not watch one hour,
The torch, the flashing sword, the traitor's kiss,
The astonished angel, with the tear of Heaven
Upon His cheek, still striving to assuage
Those fearful pangs that bowed the Son of God
Like a bruised reed. You who has power to look
Thus at Gethsemane, be still! be still!
What are your insect-woes, compared to His
Who agonizes there? Count your brief pains
As the dust atom on life's chariot-wheels,
And in a Savior's grief forget them all.'