Matthew 26:36-46
36 Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” 37 And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 38 Then he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.” 39 And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” 40 And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour? 41 Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” 42 Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” 43 And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. 44 So, leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words again. 45 Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Sleep and take your rest later on. See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 46 Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand.” [i]
The Bible contains passages that we often handle lightly, thinking either rightly or wrongly that they are not of first importance. But other passages draw us up short and seem to cry out sharply, “Take off your shoes, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.”
This is especially true of the accounts of Jesus’ prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane in which he asked that if it were possible, the cup that he had been given to drink might be taken from him. The account is in each of the first three Gospels (Matt. 26:36–46; Mark 14:32–42; Luke 22:39–46), which indicates that the writers felt this event was of immense importance.
Charles H. Spurgeon wrote of this passage, “Here we come to the Holy of Holies of our Lord’s life on earth. This is a mystery like that which Moses saw when the bush burned with fire and was not consumed. No man can rightly expound such a passage as this; it is a subject for prayerful, heart-broken meditation, more than for human language.” William Barclay said, “Surely this is a passage we must approach upon our knees.”2 D. A. Carson declared, “As his death was unique, so also was his anguish; and our best response to it is hushed worship.” Yet we are also to learn from this story. That is why it is present in the Gospels. We must learn from it so that we may be moved to prayerful awe and bow before God in hushed worship.[ii]
To give us the proper perspective on Gethsemane, we’ll walk through this text by asking and answering eight key questions. Each question will build upon the ones before it and will grow in complexity as well as importance. Thus the final two questions will be the most significant ones for us to wrap our heads and hearts around.
FIRST QUESTION
The first question is, where is Gethsemane? Gethsemane is a place on the western slopes of the Mount of Olives, the hillside where Jesus had given his recent Olivet Discourse (Matthew 24, 25) and where he and his disciples climbed after they celebrated the Last Supper (26:30). Since the word Gethsemane means an olive press or oil press, the “place called Gethsemane” (v. 36) that Jesus went to was likely an olive orchard on the Mount of Olives or, put differently, a grove of olive trees. John calls it “a garden” (John 18:1). Mathew doesn’t call it a garden, so we can’t make the profound theological point about Jesus’ relationship to Adam and the garden of Eden and how Adam failed to do God’s will but Jesus here in the garden of Gethsemane perfectly submits to God’s will. However, it’s not a sin to think it if you are now thinking it – after all, Jesus was also buried in a garden.
SECOND QUESTION
The second question is, who did Jesus take with him to Gethsemane? Verses 36 and 37a provide us with the answer.
Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee . . .
Jesus took “his disciples,” which is a reference not to all his followers but those most recently with him in the upper room. At this point that would be the Twelve minus Judas. Judas went out at some point during the meal because he arrives with his evil entourage in verse 47. But of the eleven disciples who came with Jesus to Gethsemane, Jesus singled out Peter, James, and John.
Why? Was it because they were night owls? Was it because they were the most fearless? We don’t know for certain. The only sure contextual connections we can make are: (a) these three most recently boasted about their courageous faith, and thus perhaps Jesus wanted to teach these sleepy souls a lesson, and (b) these three were the only three to witness the glory of the transfiguration, and thus perhaps Jesus wanted to show them—as official witnesses again—his less than glorious humanity in light of the weight of the cross. They witnessed Jesus’ glory when the heavenly Father’s voice proclaimed, “This is my beloved Son” (17:5), and they witnessed in part (they slept through most of it) his sorrow when our Lord cried out in distressful prayer, “My Father . . . My Father . . . My Father” (vv. 39, 42; cf. 44) and there was no audible answer from Heaven. Where was the Father’s reassuring voice? Where was the Spirit’s peaceful presence? Was God silent?
THIRD QUESTION
The third question is, what did Jesus go to Gethsemane to do? He went there to pray. The verbs “pray” and “prayed” are the most obvious actions in our text. “Sit here,” Jesus said to his disciples, “while I go over there and pray” (v. 36b). “And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed” (v. 39). “Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed” (v. 42). “So leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time” (v. 44). And between the four times prayer is mentioned in reference to Jesus praying, we find in the middle of our text—that is, with five verses before it and five after it—Jesus’ admonition to the tired trio, “Watch and pray” (v. 41).
FOURTH QUESTION
The fourth question is, how did the church’s first prayer meeting go? Well, there was a better turnout than usual. Four people were present. And there was a much better turnout from the one gender that almost never comes to prayer meetings—men! Four men were there. However, like the Parable of the Soils, only one was any good. Only Jesus prayed at the church’s first prayer meeting. And while we might think that that’s all the church will ever need—one perfect praying God-man interceding continually for the church (e.g., John 17)— Jesus here lets none of the disciples off the hook. Sure, it was late. Sure, everyone was physically and emotionally exhausted (“sleeping for sorrow,” Luke 22:45). But Jesus gave an order: “Remain here and watch with me” (v. 38b). It’s hard to know what he meant by “watch.” I think he might have meant, “stay awake and pray,” because that’s basically what he rebukes them for not doing in verse 40. Whatever Jesus meant by “watch,” it did not mean “sleep.” Perhaps that night Peter, instead of sleeping, should have been praying, “O God, please give me the strength so I will not deny Jesus in the next six hours.”
Besides the command, Jesus also wanted companionship as well as human sympathy. It was “not good” that the God-man should be “alone” (Genesis 2:18); “a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:12). He let them in on his depression. I don’t know of a better word for what he said in 26:38, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death.” Luke’s version gives a graphic picture of his emotional state: “And being in agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground” (Luke 22:44). The disciples should have stayed awake because Jesus asked them to stay awake! Also they should have stayed awake to pray because Jesus wanted their companionship and their prayers. Like any human being facing dreadful things —sickness, torture, death— Jesus desired for them to watch and pray alongside him.
Today while Jesus doesn’t need our prayers for him, it is good for us to stop in the middle of this chapter as Jesus did in the middle of his praying to learn some lessons from Jesus on prayer. We should learn that as our Savior agonized, wrestled, lamented, groaned, and persevered in prayer to the Father at Gethsemane, so we can and should come to the Father in our hour of need and temptation. Moreover, as Jesus pleaded boldly for what he wanted, so we should feel free also to unload our deepest desires before God. We should learn, as the author of Hebrews puts it in one place, that we have now in Jesus a high priest who is able to “sympathize with our weaknesses” because “in every respect” he was “tempted as we are” (Hebrews 4:15), and in another place, “because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted” (Hebrews 2:18). When we ourselves find the ground giving way beneath our feet, as eventually we shall, Gethsemane is where to go. That is where we find that the Lord of the world, the one to whom is now committed all authority (28:18), has been there before us.
FIFTH QUESTION
The fifth question is, why did Jesus pray? Does it ever strike you as odd to so often find in the Gospels the second person of the Trinity praying? Jesus prayed because he was/is fully human and because he felt, at this crucial point in his earthly ministry, that he needed to pray.
Here in Gethsemane, while it is perhaps difficult for us to imagine, Jesus felt vulnerable, so he cried out to his Father to rescue him. That is difficult for us to imagine because this is the same man who stood up against the religious rulers, made bold claims about himself, miraculously healed, and fed multitudes, cast out demons, raised the dead, and taught with such great authority. But here Jesus seems like Superman with kryptonite tied around his neck. The mighty man is so weak. Ah, but that’s just it. Jesus is not a superman. He is a man. And the moment we forget the full humanity of Jesus is the moment we Christians embrace the spirit of antichrist. In 1 John 4:2, 3 John says bluntly, “By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh [a real human] is from God, and every spirit that does not confess Jesus is not from God. This is the spirit of the antichrist.”
It is difficult for us to imagine Jesus depressed and weak because we have seen his power and authority. But I fear it is also difficult for us because we undervalue his true and full humanity, to accept that Jesus’ divinity chose to share in humanity completely. In Gethsemane there is no diluting his humanness. And thank God for that because Jesus’ humanness is essential to our salvation. “What was not assumed was not redeemed” is how the Cappadocian father Gregory of Nazianzum worded it. The argument is: if Jesus were not truly and fully human—in body, mind, emotions, etc. —then he could not stand in our place as our substitute for sin and as our representative before the Father.[iii] How true. Jesus’ true humanity is something for us to truly ponder and appreciate.
SIXTH QUESTION
The sixth question is, how did Jesus pray? First, note his posture. Verse 39 says that “he fell on his face and prayed.” That is a posture of submission. Hebrews 5:7, 8 records, “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence. Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered.” I wonder if we should learn such obedience and reverence for God through suffering, the kind of suffering that affects the posture of our praying. Jesus prayed face flat down.
Second, note his petitions. All three prayers begin with the words, “My Father.” I say all three because in 26:44 we are told that Jesus prayed “the same words again.” All three prayers are the same petitions with slight progress in them. By progress I mean that Jesus moves in the first petition from “if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will” (v. 39) to “if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done” (v. 42). He moves from a near meltdown to a firm resolution.
In both petitions Jesus never questions God or God’s will—why this plan, why me, why now? Instead he becomes an embodiment of much of what he taught his disciples to pray: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done . . .” (6:9, 10b). This is not a Stoic’s prayer but a Son’s prayer. Jesus was no Socrates [Phaedo 58E], drinking the poison and telling his friends to stop crying because he was going to a much better life. Jesus’ disposition is that of the refrain of Psalms 42, 43, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?” (42:5, 11, 43:5), but his actual prayer is the Lord’s Prayer. Yes, the Lord Jesus prays the Lord’s Prayer, minus the part about seeking forgiveness of debts. He had no debts, trespasses, or sins (cf. Hebrews 4:15).
Third, note the period of prayer. After Jesus found the three sleeping after his first session of prayer, he rebuked them all through Peter (v. 40; note that), saying, “So, could you not watch with me one hour?” From Jesus’ rebuke we learn that praying for “one hour”— whether it referred to sixty minutes or simply a period of time that lasted about an hour— was not a long time by his standards. Since Jesus prayed three times and three times returned to sleepy disciples, it is safe to say he prayed a long time—more than an hour for sure, likely two or three hours.
Again Jesus models the praying life to his disciples both then and now: he prayed standing and on his face; he prayed short and long prayers; he prayed during the day and at night; he prayed alone and with others; he prayed his set daily prayers, and he prayed off the cuff when he was depressed and desperate; he prayed with reverence and yet with childlike trust in God’s will for his life; and he prayed by pouring out his petition and then accepting God’s “no” without grumbling and complaining. May the Spirit lead us to imitate the Christ.
One more thing to note: Jesus prayed for himself! Some Christians have the idea that most of their prayers should be for other people, as if God doesn’t want you praying for your own wants and needs. We learn from Jesus that such an idea goes against scripture. Primarily, prayer is constant resubmission of your life to God’s divine Providence.
SEVENTH QUESTION
The seventh question is, what is the cup? If you are sleeping, now is the time to wake up. Wake up. Watch. Pray. Listen. When Jesus prayed for those hours, he prayed about the removal of some cup. The cup is stated explicitly in verse 39 (“My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me”) and implicitly in verse 42 (“My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done”). The cup refers to his awful sufferings and death. He knows he has to die and how he will die, and he fears dying by crucifixion. But there is more to it than that. It’s the kind of death he will die that has him sweating. In verse 45 Jesus says of himself that he is “betrayed into the hands of sinners.” Also he speaks in that same verse of his hour— “the hour” —having arrived. The hour he refers to is, broadly speaking, the last part of Jesus’ ministry, but more narrowly the climax of that ministry (the most decisive moment in human history) —his death on the cross.
The Sunday following last Thanksgiving, we devoted an entire sermon to studying the question of “what is the cup of wrath?” So, let’s take a small review of a large topic. In 27:46 we read, “And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” Here is the theological connection from Gethsemane to Golgotha: in Gethsemane what Jesus fears more than anything is the silence of God and the separation from God his Father. How can there be silence? How can there be separation?
The answer is hinted at in 8:17, where Matthew quotes Isaiah 53:4, “He took our illnesses and bore our diseases,” more directly stated by Jesus in 20:28: “the Son of Man came . . . to give his life as a ransom for many,” in other words, to pour out his blood “for many for the forgiveness of sins” (26:28). How are sins forgiven? Jesus became sin for us, and in Jesus’ becoming sin there was some inexplicable yet unavoidable silence and separation from the Father. Why? Because Jesus, in drinking the cup, became on our behalf the object of God’s judgment for sin.
There is a great mystery here as well as irony. In Isaiah 51 “the cup” represents the cup of God’s wrath (Isaiah 51:17, 22). Likewise in Jeremiah 25, the cup is “the wine of [God’s] wrath” (see Jeremiah 25:15–28). In the prophets the evil nations— Edom, Babylonia, etc. —drink the cup due to their sin. But here it is holy Jesus who drinks the cup for the nations. Another mysterious irony relates to the title “Son of Man” (v. 45). In Daniel, the Son of Man is a future figure who is supposed to come to judge sinners. But here Jesus, as the self-professed Son of Man, has come to be judged by sinners. It’s all very inexplicable, ironic, interesting. Breathtaking!
Why is Jesus so sorrowful and troubled? Why is he on his face? Why is he crying out for hours? Why is the one who came into the world to die so fearful of his death? The colossal burden that bowed down the heart of Jesus was the weight of the sin of the world. The Greek Litany calls it the “unknown sufferings of Christ.” And that’s right. His sufferings at Gethsemane and Golgotha are unknown to us. We cannot conceive the degree of suffering, both mentally and bodily, which an entirely sinless person like our Lord would endure in bearing the sin of all mankind, having “our guilt imputed to him,” becoming a curse for us, “delivered up for our trespasses” (Romans 4:25). Ecce homo— “Behold the man!” (John 19:5); Ecce agnus Dei qui tollit peccatum mundi— “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29).
Charles Spurgeon said:
The whole of the punishment of his people was distilled into one cup; no mortal lip might give it so much as a solitary sip. When he put it to his own lips, it was so bitter, he well-nigh spurned it: “Let this cup pass from me.” But his love for his people was so strong, that he took the cup in both his hands, and
“At one tremendous draught of love, He drank damnation dry.”[iv]
To put it another way, Jesus did not merely dig a pit and pour the sewage of all our sin into it. He drank it all, down to the last vile chunk!
EIGHTH QUESTION
There is a final question, one that returns us to the start of the sermon and the theme of perception. The eighth question is, who drank the cup? Jesus, of course, drank the cup. But who is Jesus? We have already hit on his humanity. Jesus is a through and through human with flesh and blood and pain and tears like you and me. Let’s finish by diving into his divinity. I’m not providing this balance so you will remain orthodox in your Chalcedonian Christology, convinced that “our Lord Jesus Christ” is “at once complete in Godhead and complete in manhood, truly God and truly man,” or to use Paul’s statement of Christology, “For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily” (Colossians 2:9).
Rather, we finish with this point because Jesus finishes with it: “See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners” (26:45). Jesus calls himself “the Son of Man,” a title that becomes Jesus’ favorite title to bestow upon himself the closer and closer he gets to Calvary. What’s with the title? What does it mean? At first reading you might think “Son of Man” refers to Jesus’ humanity. He is the son of humans, we might say. But that is not what “Son of Man” means here. We’ve seen this before, but we shall say it repeatedly. With the title “Son of Man” Jesus is connecting himself to this divine king of Daniel 7:13, 14 who has an everlasting kingdom, who comes with the clouds of Heaven, and who presents himself before “the Ancient of Days” (God Almighty).
So, who drank the cup? The Son of Man drank it. Jesus highlights his divinity. He further highlights his divinity and his unique and intimate relationship with God with his language, “My Father.” He is the only, the unique, and the obedient Son of the Father. That is why he prays, “My Father.” He teaches the church to pray, “Our Father,” and he himself prays, “My Father.” Fifty-three times in Matthew’s Gospel (compared to only six times in Mark), Jesus calls God his “Father.” He is God’s Son.
Who drank the cup? We summarize it this way: Jesus, the Son of Man, and the Son of God. And to that theological truth—that realest of realities, we could call it— what should be our response? How do we respond to Gethsemane? Praise! Adoration! Glory! Honor!
As John the Revelator observed:
Then I looked, and I heard around the throne and the living creatures and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, 12 saying with a loud voice,
“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain,
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might
and honor and glory and blessing!”
13 And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, saying,
“To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb
be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!” [v]
[i] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Mt 26:36–46.
[ii] James Montgomery Boice, The Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2001), 565–566.
[iii] See Edward R. Hardy, ed., Christology of the Later Fathers, Library of Christian Classics (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1954), p. 31.
[iv] 23. Charles Haddon Spurgeon, Sermons of the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon of London, third series (New York: Sheldon, Blakeman, & Company. 1858), p. 298.
[v] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Re 5:11–13.
