Matthew 26:31-46 - Homiletics

The Mount of Olives.

I. THE CONVERSATION BY THE WAY .

1 . The Lord ' s prediction that all should forsake him. Partly in the upper room, partly on the way, the Lord had uttered those most sacred and precious words which St. John was led by the Holy Spirit to preserve in those chapters which have well been called the holiest of the holy. St. Matthew relates only one thing which passed as they went in the late evening, in the solemn light of the Paschal moon, their hearts, we may be sure, filled with awful forebodings and strange mysterious anticipations, to the well known spot. The Lord had said long ago, "Blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended in me." The people of Nazareth had been so offended ( Matthew 13:57 ); now, he said, his chosen disciples would be offended, and on that very night. He who should become the Headstone of the corner would be for a time even to them a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence. It must be so, the Lord said, for so it had been written, applying to himself that prophecy of Zechariah which has so many mysterious allusions to the Passion, "I will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad." The disciples would remember afterwards that that Shepherd in the prophecy is called by the Lord of hosts "the Man that is my fellow;" and they would feel that those words could be true only of One who, "being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God." That very night the sheep would be scattered, but only for a short time; for it is written in the same place, "I will turn mine hand upon the little ones." The Lord would rise again. He would gather together his little flock; he would go before them, as a shepherd goeth before his sheep. They should see him again in Galilee.

2 . Peter ' s assertion of his fidelity. Peter, self confident as ever, asserted his unshaken loyalty; he, at least, would never be offended. And when the Lord repeated his warning, showing his knowledge of the future even in its minute details, he became more earnest and excited, "Though I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee." "Likewise also said all the disciples." Let us learn to distrust ourselves. When we are weak, then we are strong.

II. GETHSEMANE .

1 . The agony. The Lord, in the full knowledge of his coming Passion, sought a place for solitary prayer. He came to the well known garden whither he "ofttimes resorted." He took with him the three best beloved of the apostles, bidding the others rest. Then came that awful and mysterious agony: "He began to be sorrowful and sore troubled." He bade the disciples remain at a distance; even the three chosen ones, whose companionship and sympathy he desired, might not draw too near to the Lord in his anguish. "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me." Where apostles might not walk, we may not presume to intrude. We cannot comprehend the full meaning of that most awful agony. We are sure that it was not the mere fear of death which so crushed the holy Saviour's soul. He shared, doubtless, perfect Man as he was, our human horror of death; and in him, we must remember, that horror would be increased by his complete foreknowledge of all the circumstances of that bitter Passion which was now so close at hand. Again, the shrinking from death seems to stand in some relation to the sense of life; the feebler that sense of life, the less men fear to die. But the Lord was not only in the full strength of early manhood, with a bodily frame which had never been weakened by sickness; but he was the Life, the essential, self-existent Life; he had life in himself, therefore it seems the conflict with death must have been in him far more terrible than in ordinary men. Moreover, death must have had an awful aspect in the sight of Christ, because it is the wages, the consequence of sin; and this close connection with sin must have invested death with a horrible character to the All-holy One. But it was not the fear of death which caused that bloody sweat, that utter anguish. Saints and martyrs, and even ungodly men, have met death without flinching; and we know with what calm majestic fortitude the Lord endured the cross. On Palm Sunday the impenitence of Jerusalem had wrung from him a burst of holy tears; and now, when the intense wickedness of men, the wickedness of his own apostles, of the leaders of his own chosen people, was gathering round him, he may well have recoiled in horror from that dark and wretched prospect. He had loved those unhappy men, even Judas, even Caiaphas. He had come down from heaven to save them, and they were rushing into deadly sin, into utter ruin. They had rejected his love and mercy. Alas! thousands more would do the like, would crucify the Lord afresh, would sin wilfully against knowledge and against light, and would die in their sins. He knew it would be so, and he was "exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." And he saw, behind Judas and Caiaphas and the rest, the awful form of the evil one. Satan had entered into them. "The prince of this world cometh," he had said. Satan had nothing in Christ, no hold upon that pure and spotless innocence; but all around he exercised his terrible power with fiendish malignity, by the agency of those wicked men whom he had ensnared to their ruin. It may well be that the nearness and activity of the evil spirit helped to bring that shuddering horror over the Saviour's soul. But, once more, "He was made sin for us, though he was without sin." We cannot penetrate into the awful mysteries which those words seem to imply. We know that "the Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all." We know that he "bare our sins in his own body on the tree," and we believe that it was that terrible burden of sin—the sin of the whole world—that crushed him to the earth. Sin was to his pure soul most utterly loathsome, most horrible; and, in some mysterious way, it now came close around him, enveloping him with its hateful nearness: all the sins of the whole world, from the first sin of Adam to the last sin with which the last of living men will pollute the creation of God, all came in one burden of accumulated horror upon "the Lamb of God, which taketh away [beareth] the sins of the world." It was a burden which only he could bear. Only the Sinless One, only he who, though he became perfect Man, was in the truth of his being, perfect God, could put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. Only he could bear that crushing burden; but it caused him the most intense suffering, unutterable anguish. It was not good for most of the apostles to witness that agony; they could not bear it. He left them at the entrance of the garden. He took the three with him. They had seen the glory of the Transfiguration; the recollections of that effulgent brightness, of those glimpses of the Godhead, might strengthen them in the presence of this more than human sorrow. It seems that the sympathy of these loved and trusted friends, even their very nearness, was some relief to the suffering Lord, as it is with us in our own hour of deep distress. Dying men love to have their dearest friends present with them, watching with them, though they can give no help beyond that sympathizing presence. So it was with Christ the Lord, so true was his humanity. But the extremest anguish he must bear alone; the prayer of completest self-sacrifice he must pray alone. Only the Father and the blessed angels might behold that bloody sweat and hear that most earnest prayer. Not even the three might follow him now. He would have them near; he came to them again and again, as if for sympathy; but the most dread struggle he must face alone. He went a little further into the garden. "He was withdrawn from them," St. Luke says, "about a stone's cast." The evangelist uses a strong word—he tore himself from them. It seems as if the dear Lord could scarcely endure that awful loneliness, and yet he must be alone. That bitter anguish reveals to us the greatness of his blessed love.

2 . The threefold prayer.

LESSONS .

1 . The Lord's dread agony calls upon us for deep and reverent sympathy.

2 . It calls upon us for confession and hatred of those sins which added to his burden of woe.

3 . It calls upon us for resignation and submission of our earthly will to the holy will of God.

4 . It teaches us in our extremest sufferings always to pray—to pray more earnestly.