Prayer Meeting 4/4/2023

• The Anguish In The Garden

Well tonight we step away from the type of teaching we normally have at these meetings, which is mostly drawing from studies and works of the puritans. Tonight, as we are in passion week and the run up to easter, I am going to start the run up to Friday, and then Sunday, preparing us for that, and getting us focused on that - so tonight’s title will be a giveaway. I have entitled it: ‘The Anguish In The Garden’.

Our puritan prayer tonight is from the ‘Valley Of Vision’ page 28, or page 16 of the paperback version, entitled: ‘The Gift Of Gifts’.

O Source Of All Good, What shall I render to thee for the gift of gifts, thine own dear son, begotten, not created, my Redeemer, proxy, surety, substitute, his self-emptying incomprehensible, his infinity of love beyond the heart's grasp. Herein is wonder of wonders: he came below to raise me above, was born like me that I might become like him. Herein is love; when I cannot rise to him he draws near on wings of grace, to raise me to himself. Herein is power; when Deity and humanity were infinitely apart he united them in indissoluble unity, the uncreated and the created. Herein is wisdom; when I was undone, with no will to return to him, and no intellect to devise recovery, he came, God-incarnate, to save me to the uttermost, as man to die my death, to shed satisfying blood on my behalf, to work out a perfect righteousness for me. O God, take me in spirit to the watchful shepherds, and enlarge my mind; let me hear good tidings of great joy, and hearing, believe, rejoice, praise, adore, my conscience bathed in an ocean of repose, my eyes uplifted to a reconciled Father; place me with ox, ass, camel, goat, to look with them upon my Redeemer's face, and in him account myself delivered from sin; let me with Simeon clasp the new-born child to my heart, embrace him with undying faith, exulting that he is mine and I am his. In him thou hast given me so much that heaven can give no more. 

Our scripture for tonight is:

Luke 22:44

⁴⁴and being in agony, He prayed more earnestly. Then His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.

We will be drawing from various resources this evening, unlike in most prayer and devotion meetings where we usually focus on one. However, we will be drawing heavily from Spurgeon’s sermon series called ‘The Crisis In The Life Of Jesu’s, and in particular the sermon entitled ‘The Agony In Gethsemane’, hence my title; I didn’t want to use the exact same one. Other sources will be John MacArthur’s wonderful book ‘The Murder Of Jesus’ - isn’t that a hard hitting title?

The question that Spurgeon asks is: why, on that fateful night, did Jesus choose the garden? Before I even go there, I don’t know about you all, but as I think of Gethsemane and the events of easter, I’m totally drawn back to all we learned when we went through the gospel of John. I know we truly are loving First Corinthians, but I cherish our time in John. It was so fruitful: to have spent so long in that gospel, it has truly gave such clarity to the events of easter, and to the whole gospel. And I’m sure to you all as well.

As I read Spurgeon, he shared on possibles. He made reference to it being in the garden Jesus poured his heart out, Spurgeon says:

It was in the garden Adam’s self-indulgence ruined us. So in another garden the agonies of a second Adam should restore us.

Spurgeon then says, secondly that:

Our Lord may also have chosen the garden, because he needed every remembrance that could sustain him in his conflict.

As we know, the garden is a place where Jesus retreated to a whole lot. He would spend time with His disciples there, and sought much prayer there.

Spurgeon says:

Those snarled and twisted olives knew him well…. …There was scarce a blade of grass in the garden which he had not knelt upon.

I’m sure both the above are valid. But as I read this, I was urging Spurgeon on to give another reason. I needed not fret: he didn’t disappoint me, when in the next paragraph I read:

But probably the chief reason for his resort to Gethsemane was, that it was his well-known haunt, and John tells us ‘Judas knew this place’.

Oh how I remember John’s gospel and Jesus going exactly where Judas could easily find Him. As much as Christ was in agony in that garden, and was about to taste way, way, even greater agony, He never hid from it.

Spurgeon says:

He did not need to be hunted down like a thief, or searched out by spies.

Oh how far is that from us at times? How hard do we hide our sin? How hard do we conceal our issues and do all to not be found out or caught? How much at times does the fear of what enemies can do to us, cause us to cower and hide? Our agony is often the agony of not letting go. The agony of pride. The agony of holding on. The agony that comes from disobedience and unwillingness. Yet we see Jesus, in the greatest of agony, on His way to even greater agony - being very, very easily found. He placed Himself in a place where He would be found. Because He desired above all to do the will of the Father.

As Spurgeon says:

He delighted to do the will of the Lord, though it involved obedience unto death.

Obedience is the key to dying to self. Obedience doesn’t need to feel good about it first. It needs only to be faithful to our purpose.

So we ask the question: why was Jesus in such agony? At this point for sure it’s not physical, and Spurgeon points out:

It is dishonouring of the Lord that we should think him less brave than his own disciples…. …Read the stories of the martyrs and you will frequently find them exultant in the near approach of the most cruel sufferings. The joy of the Lord has given such strength to them… …our master must not be thought of as inferior to his boldest of servants, it cannot be that he would tremble while we are brave.

Well I know we learned this before again in John, but it’s important, it’s very important to remember what was actually behind the agony; behind the blood-like sweat that Jesus manifested.

As Spurgeon again says:

It was now that our Lord had to take a certain cup from the Father’s hand.

What does it mean: cup? It’s the cup of God’s wrath. Jesus says just prior to our main verse tonight:

Luke 22:42

⁴²Father, if it is Your will, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done.”

Hendrickson writes:

He was, as it were, being torn apart with agony.

Between Jesus’ deep crying of fervent prayer, coupled with His intense awareness of the wrath of God towards sin, and it was also due to, as Hendriksen states that:

Jesus was sinless, and therefore very sensitive. When these factors - extreme anguish, earnest supplication, unparalleled sensitivity are combined…

(I will open up in a few minutes on some thoughts on this unparalleled sensitivity). It is due to these factors that, more than likely, Jesus burst a blood vessel,

The Greek word is:

Θρόμβος – Thrombos - where we get ‘thrombosis’ from, or blood clot.

This was the level of intense strain Jesus was in. When all this Jesus is about to face, and is in the process of facing the full wrath of God, a holy God who hates sin. All that sin, all that disobedience, all that rejection of God is now on Jesus. And God the Father is about to punish Him for it.

The heartache of Jesus. The pain of carrying all that sin, and then the agony of the Father totally rejecting and punishing Him. Yet we read in Isaiah:

Isaiah 53:10a

¹⁰Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he has put him to grief. When you make his soul an offering for sin”.

It pleased God to put His Son through it all. Why? Because of His love for us. He knew His Son would be enough. He knew His Son would fulfil His purpose. Think of that. What love. Do you really know how much love that is? The next time you feel unloved, we really ought to be slapped. Again John’s gospel - this is Jesus now speaking to Nicodemus:

John 3:16-17

¹⁶For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life. ¹⁷For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved.

God’s love for us put Jesus literally through hell; put His only begotten Son on trial, and charged Him as guilty. Jesus wasn’t experiencing, or about to experience what God thinks of sin, and how He judges and views sin. Jesus was about to experience all of everyone’s sin and how God deals with it.

We will all face judgement, but not unto death, for believers. Jesus experienced all our judgement, and all of humanity’s death. Are you getting a little picture for the reason for the beads of blood?

Spurgeon says:

This then is that which caused the saviour such extraordinary depression. He was about to taste death for every man, to bear the curse due to sinners, because he stood in the sinners place.

Spurgeon adds:

Here is the secret of these agonies which is not possible for me to set forth in order before you. Yet I would exhort you to consider these griefs a while.

Spurgeon then says this:

That you may love the sufferer.

That you may love the sufferer!!! One who knows not sin, who has never tasted sin, as a man, He was without spot or blemish. Yet He is about to take on all humanity’s ugliness; all its sin. And He is going to taste the full wrath of God’s hate of sin.

Martin Luther says:

To be looked upon as all the sinners in the world, and as if he committed all the sin that ever had been committed by all his people.

Spurgeon says:

To stand in such a position when once it was realised must have been very terrible to the redeemer’s holy soul.

That made me think why we find it so easy to tolerate sin, to be at ease with sin. I ask then: how holy is your soul? How very un-terrible is it to you? Jesus didn’t just taste the full pain of God’s wrath. He saw the full extent of the darkness of sinner’s souls. Oh how it must have pained Him to see how far God’s people have went in their depravity.

Think of all your own sin. Not anyone else’s. All your own. Then think of putting them onto a holy, perfect Son - the Son of God, God in flesh. Okay, now imagine everyone else has done at least as bad as you, or thought as bad as you.  Now put that all on Jesus as well. A perfect, spotless Christ. Are you seeing the reason behind the droplets of sweated blood?

We can’t imagine can’t we not? We can’t really get the full picture of what it must have felt like for Jesus. And this is my point I mentioned I would open up. About ‘unparalleled sensitivity’. I want you to remember those words ‘unparalleled sensitivity’. They will become striking words in a few moments, or at least I hope they will.

As I was preparing, I was desperate to feel what He felt more. Yet I knew I was not getting it at all. I was writing and praying, and studying, and thinking. I tried so, so hard to draw closer to what it was like. I wanted to desperately be closer. I wanted to get closer to how Jesus felt. To comprehend it more. But it was just impossible. I knew I was just not able to get near enough to that feeling that caused Jesus Θρόμβοι -thrombio.

And I then as I prayed, and meditated on the Word it became clear as to why. It was my sin, my total lack. My own mortal, sinful, dying body just is sadly, sadly incapable of feeling holiness at that level. John Macarthur puts it this way in ‘The Murder Of Jesus’:

Never was so much sorrow emanating from the soul of one individual. We could never comprehend the depth of Jesus’ agony, because frankly we cannot perceive the wickedness of sin as he could.

Of course, we will never come close to comprehending that. But I ask brothers and sisters. How little do you actually feel? How feeble are your feelings of even remotely comprehending it? Is the almost complete lack of comprehension, maybe nothing more than a reflection of the level you might still be sinning, and not being willing to be convicted in?

Is that not part of what you so willingly tolerate in both yourself and others? Is it not that you have no sorrow for your own sin, that you lack the agony? That you lack the agony towards others sin? Are not the most accepting of people, often the most sin laden? I’ve witnessed first-hand as a pastor, these ‘all-accepting’ so called believers. Who are just so loving and caring, only to find out they were harbouring the most sinister of sin themselves. Their acceptance was not compassion driven, but due to a lack of personal agonising.

Unparalleled sensitivity is for sure out of our reach, but how about some sort of it, that lets us draw deeply to our knees to pray. For sure, as I studied, I realised all our evangelism, all our truth telling, all our boldness, all our prayer life, is linked to the degree we can even have a tiny snippet of unparalleled sensitivity. Oh brothers and sisters, to feel more agony like that of Christ in the garden, would surely make us more like Jesus in all we do.

Yet, are we all not way too like the disciples were in the garden and some of us still are? When Jesus was in agony. When He was carrying the sin of the world. When He was pleading with the Father for another way. When He was experiencing unparalleled sensitivity, and blood and sweat dripped from His head - We sleep!

We have no sensitivity to the agony at all. Our flesh cares not for Him. How little did they feel. Jesus was going through their wrath, their punishment, their deserved cup. And they slept through it. While Jesus sunk to His knees and in anguish, our flesh is so weak it sleeps through it.

Oh what a picture of our sin and flesh, and how far away it takes us. While Jesus pleads for mercy, for the sins we keep committing: we sleep through it all. We look for comfort by allowing our flesh to run the show. Yet still He cried, not mine but Thy will be done. And as the agony continued all the way to cross, where he cries out: ‘why have You forsaken Me?’. He still cries aloud: ‘forgive them Father for they know not what they do’.

Oh what a Saviour, oh to be more like Him. That all would know Him, that we would be people who pour our hearts out in prayer. Who stay awake and become way more sensitive to our own weaknesses, and be willing to crucify them.

Well time has gone. Tonight we have spoken on the anguish in the garden. We will, on Friday, move onto the agony of the cross. But on Sunday, that anguish and that agony will turn to the glory of the empty tomb.

What a Saviour.

Amen.