Luke 22:39-42
He came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples followed him. When he reached the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not come into the time of trial.” Then he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, knelt down, and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.”
What words would you use to describe Jesus in this scene?
I’ve asked this question many times in various Bible study settings, and there’s usually a fair degree of agreement. Of all the words suggested, in fact, one seems to come up more often than any other: human. As when someone says, “Jesus seems just so human with his anguish and fear.”
Why is that word both so common and so important to people? I think it’s because we often forget the “other half” of the Incarnation. We have been taught, believe, and remember that Jesus is fully divine, “the only begotten Son of God” as the Nicene Creed puts it – even if we’re not sure what “begotten” means! – but we sometimes forget, or at least downplay, that the Church also confesses Jesus to be fully human.
Perhaps that’s understandable. After all, through much of the gospel story, Jesus seems way more than human – healing, casting out demons, performing miracles of all kinds. Moreover, he often seems so incredibly calm, perpetually unruffled, even at times somewhat dispassionate. And so we are, perhaps, surprised by a display of such emotion and anguish from him.
Which is why, I think, this scene is one of the most memorable and important to many people – it reminds us that Jesus is like us. Just like us. In this scene Jesus is afraid, just as we at times are afraid. He feels alone, just as we feel at times alone. He wants to avoid the struggle and suffering to come, just as we often want to avoid struggle and suffering.
Jesus is like us. And that matters, because if Jesus knows what it is to be like us, then God knows. God knows, understands, and cares about our fear, loneliness, and deep desire to escape suffering.
This confession – that Jesus has taken on our lot and our life, experiencing everything we experience – is central not just to this scene but to the whole of the Gospel. After all, each of the four stories of Jesus in the New Testament climax in what we call, most appropriately, the Passion of our Lord. Why has the church used this name? In large measure because the Latin root of the word “passion” means “suffering,” and this is the story of Jesus’ suffering for us and all the world.
At the same time, we also confess that Jesus undergoes that suffering in order to show us precisely that God is not dispassionate but cares for us and all people intensely, deeply, even passionately. Passionately enough to die on the cross.
Prayer: Dear God, when we next feel afraid or alone, remind us of Jesus praying on this night so that we might believe and trust that you understand us, care about us, and are with us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
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