December 2, 1897

In Gethsemane

EGW

“And he came out, and went, as he was wont, to the Mount of Olives; and his disciples also followed him.” “And they came to a place which was named Gethsemane; and he saith to his disciples, Sit ye here, while I shall pray.” As Christ left the disciples, bidding them pray for themselves and for him, he selected three, Peter, James, and John, and went still farther into the seclusion of the garden. These three disciples had been with him at his transfiguration; they had seen the heavenly visitors, Moses and Elias, talking with Jesus, and Christ desired their presence on this occasion also. And he “began to be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death; tarry ye here, and watch with me.”ST December 2, 1897, par. 1

Christ expressed his desire for human sympathy, and then withdrew himself from them about a stone's cast. Falling upon his face he prayed, saying, “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.”ST December 2, 1897, par. 2

At the end of an hour, Jesus, feeling the need of human sympathy, rose from the ground, and staggered to the place where he had left his three disciples. He longed to see them. His human nature yearned for human sympathy. He longed to hear from them words that would bring him some relief in his suffering. But he was disappointed. They did not bring to him the help he craved. Instead, he “findeth them sleeping.”ST December 2, 1897, par. 3

Just before he bent his footsteps to the garden, Jesus had said to his disciples, “All ye shall be offended because of me this night;” and they had given Christ the strongest assurances that they would never forsake their Lord, that they would go to prison with him, and if need be would suffer and die with him. And poor, self-sufficient Peter had added, “Altho all shall be offended, yet will not I.” But the disciples trusted in their own strength; they did not look to the mighty Helper, as Christ had counseled them to do. Thus at the most critical moment, when the Son of God was in need of their sympathy and heart-felt prayers, they were found asleep. Even the ardent Peter, who, only a few hours before had declared that he would die with his Lord, was sleeping.ST December 2, 1897, par. 4

Addressing Peter, Jesus said: “Simon, sleepest thou? couldest not thou watch one hour? Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak.” Even in his great agony he was willing to excuse the weakness of his disciples. “The spirit truly is ready,” he said, “but the flesh is weak.”ST December 2, 1897, par. 5

Again the Son of God was seized with super-human agony, and, fainting and exhausted, he staggered back to the place of his former struggle. His suffering was even greater than before. Only a short time before Christ had poured out his soul in songs of praise in unfaltering accents, as one who was conscious of his Sonship to God. He had spoken to his disciples in words of tenderness and love. Now his voice came to them on the still evening air, not in tones of triumph, but full of human anguish. So lately he had been serene in his majesty, he had been like a mighty cedar; now he was as a broken reed. The words of the Saviour were borne to the ears of the drowsy disciples, “O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done.” Their first impulse was to go to him; but he had bidden them tarry there, watching unto prayer lest they should enter into temptation. But when Jesus came to them again, he found them sleeping; “for their eyes were heavy.” “And he left them, and went away again, and prayed the third time, saying the same words.” “And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”ST December 2, 1897, par. 6

Hear that agonized prayer of Christ in the garden of Gethsemane! While the disciples were sleeping beneath the spreading branches of the olive trees, the Son of man,—a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief,—was prostrate upon the cold earth. As the agony of soul came upon him, large blood drops were forced from his pores, and with the falling dew moistened the sods of Gethsemane, while from the pale and quivering lips came the words, “O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done.”ST December 2, 1897, par. 7

Christ was now standing in a different attitude from that in which he had ever stood before. Hitherto he had been as an intercessor for others; now he longs for an intercessor for himself. In his soul anguish he lay prostrate upon the cold earth. Christ had suffered insult at the hands of the men whom he came to bless and save; he had been charged with being linked with Beelzebub, that his miracles of healing were wrought through Satanic agencies; but these things did not cause him the intense agony of soul he was now suffering. He was bearing the penalty of transgression for a sinful world. This proceeded not from Satan nor from man. It is best described in the words of the prophet, “Awake, O sword, against my Shepherd, and against the Man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of hosts.” Christ was realizing his Father's frown. He was now suffering under divine justice. He saw what justice meant. He felt that as man's substitute and surety he must be bound to the altar. He had taken the cup of suffering from the lips of guilty men, and proposed to drink it himself, and in its place give to men the cup of blessing.ST December 2, 1897, par. 8

Satan urged upon Christ all the force of his temptations. He presented before him that the sin of the world, so offensive to God, was chastisement too great. He would never again be looked upon as pure and holy and undefiled, as God's only-begotten Son. He had himself become a sinner, and would suffer the penalty of sin. The wrath that would have fallen upon man, was now to fall upon him.ST December 2, 1897, par. 9

It was here that the mysterious cup trembled in his hand. It was here the destiny of a lost world was hanging in the balance. Would his human nature bear the strain? Would the sins of an apostate world, since Adam's transgression to the close of time, be laid upon him? Would he drink the cup? Or would he wipe the blood drops from his brow, and cast from his soul the guilt of a perishing world, which was placing him, all innocent, all undeserving, under the penalty of a just law? Would he refuse to become man's substitute and surety, refuse to give him another trial, another probation? It was not yet too late to refuse to drink that awful cup of suffering, the wrath of his Father against transgression. He might have said, “Let the wilful transgressor receive the penalty of his sin, and I will go back to my Father.” But no; he did not make this choice. Altho sin was the awful thing that had opened the flood-gates of woe upon the world, he would become the propitiation of a race that had willed to sin.ST December 2, 1897, par. 10

Mrs. E. G. White

(Concluded next week.)