Luke 22:39-46 - Homiletics
Gethsemane.
It is now dark. On the way to the Mount of Olives, the customary retreat of Jesus ( Luke 22:39 ), at the point where the upward slope begins, there is a shady place, belonging, perhaps, to one of those who believed in him, whither "Jesus had often resorted" ( John 18:2 ). The site of the garden of Gethsemane may, with sufficient accuracy, be identified. It may not have been the exact spot, overshadowed by the eight venerable trees, which immemorial tradition has distinguished as the scene of the lonely vigil, but it must have been close to that spot. It was a place where there were many olives, and, as the name suggests, an oil-press; a place of perfect quiet and seclusion, where, beyond the voices of rude men, there was the peace of heaven. To this place he who had uttered the high-priestly prayer brought the high-priestly sacrifice; and there he began the walk through the valley of the shadow of death. The tale of the sore amazement and exceeding heaviness is told, with more fullness of detail, by the Evangelists Matthew and Mark (see homiletics in loc. ) . Here, without enlarging on the meaning and scope of the features of the narrative, note—
I. THE AGONY . (Verse 44.) It has always been felt that in this there is immeasurably more than a mere revolt from imminent pain and death. The anguish is marked by an intensity for which this revolt cannot account. A brave man, however sensitive, can face, with unflinching fortitude, a high enterprise, even though its fatal consequence is evident. "The sweat becoming as it were great drops of blood," speaks of a conflict in the soul for which the impending physical dissolution cannot account. Some references supply us with suggestions.
1 . The announcement made at the Supper-table ( John 14:30 ), of the coming of the prince of the world, speaks to us of a temptation, intensified by the circumstances of the hour, in the line of the wilderness-temptation, to grasp the power of the Messiah otherwise than through the suffering of the cross (see, in this connection, Matthew 26:53 ).
2 . The sorrow which cast its shade over his countenance when the betrayal was mentioned ( John 13:21 ); the horror with which he regarded the perfidy (verse 22; Matthew 26:24 ); the utterance by which he awoke the disciples, marking out the betrayal as the bitterness of the hour at hand ( Matthew 26:45 ); the appeal to Judas (verse 48);—these things indicate the amazement and pain caused by the action of the son of perdition.
3 . The word of the Son to the Father as to the cup so full of woe that he humbly besought its removal, reminds us of a region beyond all that our thought can trace, in which the Christ of God was treading the wine-press alone. Better, in view of this, a holy reticence than a zeal which is eager with explanations. If we must speak of the special fearfulness and trembling of Gethsemane, let us simply say that there, in all its crushing weight, was realized the bearing of the sin of the world.
II. THE PRAYER .
1 . Observe its characteristics.
More strongly still St. Mark says ( Mark 14:35 ), "He fell on the ground." It was the attitude of deepest reverence, of entire prostration. In the high-priestly prayer, "he lifted up his eyes to heaven;" but now, in human weakness and dependence, he is prostrate before his Father. Sign of the "godly fear" ( Hebrews 5:7 ) for which he was heard.
2 . Observe its subject-matter. (Verse 42.) "Remove this cup from me; or (as in Matthew 26:30 ), "Let this cup pass from me." It was the pleading of the sensitive human soul. And we may be assured that to plead for the removal of a cup of pain, for relief from burdens which seem greater than we can bear, is in the way of the child's privilege; only there must be the spirit of entire dependence. "If thou be willing." There is to be no "if" where God's promise is absolute. We do not need to say, If thou be willing, make thy grace sufficient." His pledge as to this is distinct and unequivocal: "My grace is sufficient.'' From this, on this resting, we pray. But when we desire that concerning which we have no definite assurance of the Father's mind, then all is to be subordinated to him. This is to abide in the Son as he is revealed in Gethsemane. "If we ask any thing according to God's will, he heareth us." The godly McCheyne spoke of getting into tune for prayer. We get into tune when we learn Christ's "if it be possible;" "If thou be willing."
"Renew my will from day to day;
Blend it with thine," etc.
3. Observe its answer. The answer is manifest:
"Do thou thy holy will:
I will lie still; I will not stir,
Lest I should break the charm."
"In the day when I cried, thou answeredst me, and strengthenedst me with strength in my soul."
"A gracious, willing Guest,
While he can find one humble heart
Wherein to rest."
And thus, though the cup does not pass, the will of the Son is strengthened into perfect harmony with the will of the Father. He rises up from prayer, ready, "strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might."
III. Observe, finally, THE REMONSTRANCE . Very touching the word to Peter ( Matthew 26:40 ). The one hour never again to come, the one hour of watching, lost in sleep! And now (verse 46). May not the pathetic question ring in the ears of the Christian?
Why do we sleep—we whom the Son of man has associated with himself in his prayers and pains? We asleep, and he toiling! We asleep, and the world lying in darkness! Ah! in the solemn light of Gethsemane, what is the utmost Christian activity but a slumber? and how many who claim to be Christ's are fast asleep, not for sorrow, but in self-indulgence and sin! Oh that the gentle, reproachful "why?" may be as an alarum-clock to conscience, a continual incitement to will and heart! The spirit may be willing, but the flesh is ever weak. "Rise and pray, lest ye enter into temptation!"
Thursday night to Friday evening.
It is time to be going. The footfall of the coming host has already been heard, and the gleam of the lanterns and the flashing of the swords have been detected at no great distance. Guiltily, under shadow of night, the conspirators have approached. "While Jesus is yet speaking." ( Luke 23:47 ), the traitor is bending forward to give the salute of friendship. Note the question, so full of gentle dignity, "Companion, wherefore art thou come? Betrayest thou the Son of man, with a kiss?" Note what follows down to the flight of the apostles, when to them it seems that the end has come. "We trusted that it had been he who should have redeemed Israel;" and now? Betrayed into the hands of sinners, he is "led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep dumb before her shearers." Priest, Pharisee, scribe, he who scourged you with the whip of his holy indignation is now the Prisoner on whose bleeding body the furrows of your scourge may be made long. No legion of angels will interpose. The Son of God only waits to die. There are:
Briefly trace the narrative.
I. THE PRECOGNITION BY ANNAS . Annas, or Hanan, to whom first the fettered Jesus is borne, occupied at the time a peculiar position. His son-in-law, Joseph Caiaphas, was the actual high priest. But Annas, having been deposed by the Roman governor, was still regarded as the priest jure divino, and his influence seems to have been immense. Five of his sons and his son-in-law were raised to the pontifical throne. It was under the last of his five sons that James, the brother of our Lord, was put to death. He was an unscrupulous, intriguer. A Sadducee, who had been mixed up in foul plots and conspiracies, the head of "a viper brood," as a Jewish chronicler says, which amassed wealth by unlawful gains. Farrar has called attention to the fact that, when the capture of Jesus is determined, the Pharisees disappear from the scene; his implacable enemies are the chief priests and scribes. Before this Annas Jesus stands ( John 18:13-23 ). Some questions are put as to his disciples and doctrine. And these, as has well been remarked, Jesus answers "with dignified repulsion"—a repulsion so sharp that the first blow inflicted on that sacred face was bestowed by one of the menials of the court. "Answerest thou the high priest so?" How complete the self-restraint expressed in the only action which followed—the reply, "If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil; but if not, why strikest thou me?"
II. THE ARRAIGNMENT BEFORE CAIAPHAS AND THE SANHEDRIM . All that Annas could do was to order his Prisoner to be still more tightly bound, and to send him to the portion of the temple court which was occupied by the priest, his son-in-law, Caiaphas. The morning had not yet dawned, and until dawn no meeting of council could be convened. It was during this interval that the predicted denial of the Lord by Peter occurred (verses 54-62). The clock marks the hour of six, when Caiaphas and his assessors confront the Nazarene. Their object is to establish a charge of blasphemy, and suborned witnesses are cited. They are clumsy perjurers, who contradict one another and contradict themselves. And the evidence breaks down. Then the tactics are changed. The high priest, directly addressing the Prisoner, demands a "yea" or "nay" to the interrogation, "Art thou the Christ?" Jesus has been silent, but now (verses 60-71), calmly and solemnly, he answers, "Thou hast said;" and adds that, by-and-by, they should see "the Sou of man sitting on the right hand of the power of God." It is enough. "Blasphemy!" is the shout, and he is condemned as worthy of death. And there ensues a scene of brutal ferocity. The wretches in attendance spit on the face, buffet, strike him with the palms of their hands, and rend the air with ribald cries. For the world shows its baseness when a man is down; then the many rush forward to have their fling and kick.
III. JESUS IS DELIVERED TO THE JUDICATURE OF THE GOVERNOR , What priests and elders could do has been done. The procurator alone could inflict the sentence of death. Their next movement must be to coerce him into the carrying out of their plan. And they know that in Pontius Pilate, stained with violences the report of which to his imperial master would cost him his government, if not his life, they have the ruler whom they can rule. Two appearances (ch. 23.) of our Lord before the governor are recorded, and between them stands the episode with which the name of Herod is associated. There is nothing more sad than the record of the expedients, the shufflings to and fro, the efforts to save One whom Pilate felt to be guiltless, whilst yet he dared not give effect to his convictions. A record most sad, but most instructive. Is it not a portrait, many of whose features suggest cowardly concessions, timidities, struggles between conscience and policy in which conscience is worsted, with which, in one form or another, too many of us are familiar? A character-sketch, like that of Pilate in the trial, gauges the directions and the possibilities of the human nature which is common to us all. In the afternoon of Friday the Savior of sinners was crucified. An incident on the way to Calvary is related by the evangelist, which is touching in itself, and which reminds us of the attitude of mind, the kind of feeling towards him, the Crucified, which he denies and accepts. We are told that he was "followed by a great company of women, who bewailed and lamented him" (verses 27-31). Observe his saying, most tenderly prefaced by the phrase, "Daughters of Jerusalem." Virtually, he declines tears and cries, which express only sorrow over his fate. He wishes those who bewail to estimate the significance of the spectacle, to realize what it foreboded for them and theirs; to weep not for him, but with him in his sadness concerning Jerusalem, in his baffled longing to gather its children together, in his thwarted purpose to save and bless. The events of that day were the prophecy of a doom not to be long delayed: in his thought and emotion as to this doom, and in this alone, he sought their sympathy. And so, remember, Christ desires not a luxury of sentiment, which ends in lamentations on account of his suffering. He desires partnership in his suffering. His cross is to be our cross. We are to hold ourselves identified with him in it. The apostle's words are the interpretation of the genuine Christian sentiment: "I was crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me;" "God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world."
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