When you’ve heard a story so many times… it can be hard to feel the weight of it again.
Try to put yourself, though, in the sandals of Simon Peter as he climbs the Mount of Olives. Its late Thursday night. The night before what would come to be known as Good Friday. Its dark, though there is the light of the full moon. He’s with Jesus and the other disciples. They’ve weaved their way out through the streets of Jerusalem. They’ve passed by thousands of people camping outside the city, who’ve come to celebrate Passover. They’re heading up the mountain to a garden they’ve been to before.
Its been three years since Jesus was declared to be the Son of God at his baptism. Three years since Jesus faced the temptation in the wilderness to stop trusting God. To take for himself what God had not yet given him. Three years since he passed the test and said, “no. God is faithful and I will trust him.” Tonight… there’s another test.
Just think about what Peter’s seen in those three years. He’s seen Jesus do things only God can do. There was the night when they thought they’d drown in the storm on the sea of Galilee. The wind was howling… the waves were swamping the boat. And Jesus just stood up and told them to stop. And immediately everything was calm.
There was the day when Jesus had taken him and James and John into a room of death. A 12 year old girl lying lifeless on her bed. The mourners outside crying because all hope was lost. The parents shaking in the corner, wanting to hold their dead daughter. People laughing at Jesus thinking he can still help this child who’d gone beyond all medical care. And then Jesus spoke to the girl. “Little girl”, he said, “I say to you, get up”. And life entered the girl’s body, just like God had first breathed life into Adam and Eve.
Peter hasn’t made the logical connection that he’d make in a couple of months… that Jesus really is God the son in the flesh… but he knows at least that Jesus is the Son of God. That’s the title of the king God promised to send. The king who’d make everything right. Peter’s so excited that he gets to be a part of this central moment of history.
And because he’s so excited… he just can’t understand why Jesus seems so… sad. What’s his problem? Victory’s so near. Surely now’s the time when God will fully and finally triumph over all the forces of evil. Why on earth is Jesus so downhearted.
With that strange mood hanging over Peter and all the group… we read this from Matthew 26 verse 36:
Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he told the disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” Taking along Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. He said to them, “I am deeply grieved to the point of death. Remain here and stay awake with me.”
Again this strangeness. What’s going on with Jesus? He’s not saying… ‘I’m feeling a bit flat…’ or ‘I’m just having a bit of a rough patch… its probably all the excitement of the last week’. No, Jesus is overwhelmed. He’s so overwhelmed he feels like he might die. And just like at other key moments, he’s brought his closest three disciples… Peter, James and John… along with him away from the group and confided in them. He’s let them in to see just how deep his sadness goes. And having let them in… he asks them for something really simple. He asks them to stay awake with him.
You know those moments when its terrifying to be alone, or to feel alone. Like when you’re in your room alone at night and the horrible thoughts creep in. Or when the world around you seems to be collapsing… or when you’ve felt abandoned or betrayed… you don’t want to be alone. That’s how Jesus is feeling. And he asks his friends to be… faithful friends. Friends who can be relied on when the chips are down.
Then he walks a little further… and he falls flat on his face to pray in the begging position.
Remember Jesus’ power and majesty. Demons tremble before him. Sickness and death flee in his presence. Creation itself humbles itself to obey his word. And yet here Jesus is… begging something from his Father in heaven. He begs his Father to take away… a cup. He says in verse 39:
My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me.
There are two types of cup he could be talking about. The Old Testament talks about a cup of joy and happiness. The cup of salvation from the Lord. It’s a cup of celebration and thankfulness that God’s rescued you from evil. The cup from which God pours mercy, and grace, and forgiveness and rescue.
It would be strange for Jesus to be begging to have that cup taken away.
The other type of cup the Old Testament prophets talk about is the cup of God’s anger. His wrath… or wrath for our American friends… The cup of God’s fury at all the sin… all the evil… all the wickedness of humanity. His anger at our lies and hatreds and evil words. His anger at the way we ignore him and crown ourselves king of the world… pushing aside others who get in our way. His righteous anger at everyone who deserves judgement and justice and punishment. This cup holds the death we deserve for abandoning the God of life.
You can understand why Jesus DOES NOT WANT to drink from this cup. Not least because Jesus is the only one who doesn’t deserve this cup. He’s the Faithful Son of God who came into the world to be the one who fully trusts God… who’s faithful in his obedience every single moment of every single day. He doesn’t deserve this cup.
And yet his Father’s asked him to drink it. Not for his sin, but for ours. So that we can drink the cup of God’s salvation. So that people… God’s enemies… Jesus’ enemies… can be saved.
And so this is the greatest moment of crisis in all of human history. Jesus doesn’t deserve the cup… he has the power to not drink from the cup… he could actually ask the Father to save him and God would. He would rescue Jesus if Jesus made that request. But it would mean no cup of salvation for anyone else. It would mean all those promises that God made in the Old Testament could not come true. God would no longer be faithful.
And it would mean that Jesus would be disobeying his Father. Turning away from his Father’s plan. It would mean Jesus… God the Son… would no longer be faithful. Faithful to his Father… faithful to his people… faithful to his promises.
And so Jesus makes this request, My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me.
And the whole universe… all of human history… all of creation holds its breath…
And then Jesus prays his next sentence. A sentence of faithful… loving obedience to his Father. He says:
Yet… not as I will… but as you will.
I won’t do what I want. I’ll do what you want.
And the universe breathes out a sigh of relief.
Jesus’ response is the opposite of what Adam and Eve said. They’d taken what they wanted, not what God wanted. It’s the opposite of what ancient Israel had said. The opposite of what we say on a daily basis in big ways and small ways.
We like to think of Jesus saving us out of love for us… And he does. That’s absolutely true. But even before that… of first importance… is his loving obedience to his Father. Remember back in the wilderness… Satan had tempted Jesus to take everything he wanted. But Jesus knew how good his Father is. He knew that its far better to follow in God’s plan… even if that means pain in this world… even if it means death… because the faithful God will always bring that to the best ending possible. He trust’s his Faithful Father. And here he proves himself… the Faithful Son.
Meanwhile… his unfaithful disciples and friends are sleeping… and the unfaithful world is coming to kill him…
But that’s a story… for next time.
