March 31, 2006

THE LESSON OF THE GARDEN

Mark 14:12-72

We are working our way through Mark 14, the longest chapter in the Gospel of Mark. The events of Jesus’ earthly life and ministry are moving swiftly to their conclusion. We started it last week with the account of the anointing in Bethany. The rest of the chapter includes Mark’s account of the Last Supper, the events in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus’ arrest and the subsequent trial in the chief priest’s palace. The chapter comes to a climactic close with Peter’s denial of Christ.

There are two lenses through which we can look at the events of this chapter. One is the Divine lens. What is God doing? How is the eternal plan of God unfolding, and what is the meaning and impact of these events in that Divine plan? The other is the human lens: the very real emotions, reactions and choices that were made by those who lived those dramatic events.

Let’s consider first what God is doing. Mark began his Gospel in Mark 1:1 with the words, The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Mark’s book is a book of “good news” about Jesus Christ. And as tragic as the events of Mark 14 and 15 appear, they are an essential part of the “good news.” These events have been part of the plan of God from the beginning.

Look at Jesus’ own words in Mark 10:45: For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. These words of Jesus are stunning in their impact. “This is what I have come to do,” Jesus said. “I have come to give my life as a ransom.” This plan and purpose is now moving toward its climactic hour. The timing itself has been set by an eternal calendar. On frequent other occasions when people wanted Jesus to do certain things, he put them off, saying, “My hour has not yet come.” But now the time has come. One of the determiners of that hour is signaled in Mark 14:12: On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, when it was customary to sacrifice the Passover lamb…One of the Old Testament images that Jesus fulfilled was that of the Passover lamb that was sacrificed to ensure the Israelites’ delivery from the Death Angel in Exodus. And so it was that on the evening when it was customary to sacrifice the lamb, the events that would lead to Jesus own sacrificial death were set in motion.

The purpose to which Jesus had committed himself is clearly announced in his words when he used certain elements of the Passover supper and forever transformed them and infused them with new meaning. In verse 22, we read: While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying, “Take it; this is my body.” Then he took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them and they all drank from it. “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many,” he said. It is worth pondering that Jesus spoke these words before he went to the cross. At the time he spoke them, these words were still prophecy. They spoke of his intention, of that which still lay ahead in the plan of God. God not only knew what was going to happen. This was his plan! Revelation 13:8 speaks of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world. God was fulfilling his plan.

What is more, what happened in these critical hours in Jerusalem was part of an eternal plan of God that is still being carried out. There is still has a future element to it. Look at Jesus’ words in verse 25: I tell you the truth, I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it anew in the kingdom of God. There is an aspect of this kingdom that Jesus gave his life to inaugurate that is yet future, awaiting a final fulfillment.

So as we read the events of this chapter, we can view it through the Divine lens. It is God’s eternal plan of redemption being carried out. The Son of Man has come to give his life as a ransom for many. The Passover Lamb of God has come to be sacrificed. He is giving his body. He is pouring out his blood to pay the price for the sins of the world. That is the Divine viewpoint.

But as I said, there is also a human lens. We can also see the events of these chapters through the eyes of the free and responsible moral agents who lived them. On one level, we humans have always have a hard time reconciling the sovereignty of God’s plan with the reality of human will and human responsibility. The Bible never explains or reconciles this paradox for us. It just declares both to be true. Nowhere is this paradox more clearly stated than in Mark 14:20 in referring to Judas Iscariot. Remember last week, we saw Judas go to the chief priests and offer to betray Jesus for a sum of money. In his unbelief he made an awful choice. Look at what Jesus says about this choice: The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born. Here we have the paradox announced, but not explained. The eternal plan will be carried out. The sovereign details will be carried out, including the detail that one of his own followers would betray him for 30 pieces of silver. But that in no way lessens the moral responsibility of Judas who made that choice. Woe to him! It would have been better for him never to be born. God carries out his plans, but the people whose character and actions make up those plans still carry full responsibility for the choices and actions they take.

So what we have in Mark 14 is not the story of robots carrying out their predetermined roles in a cosmic play. It is the story of free moral agents making choices, reacting and responding to what was happening in front of them. Jesus is one of those free moral agents. Judas is another. So are Peter and the other disciples. And in the unfolding plan of God, critical events elicit responses, reactions and choices in all of them. What I want to do in the rest of this message is to consider this question; How can we, as free moral agents, prepare ourselves so that when the crisis times come in our lives, we will make the right choices, choices that are God-honoring. The answer to that question, I believe, is found in the Garden of Gethsemane and what took place there. It is THE LESSON OF THE GARDEN.

There are two models in the Garden for us to consider and learn from. The first, or course, is Jesus himself. Look at his model. (Read verse 32-36) As the rest of the text unfolds, we are told that he actually prayed three times, each time saying essentially the same thing. I just want to highlight several things. First of all, as a human being, he felt all the overwhelming emotions of that hour. The emotional words here are powerful. We are told that he was “deeply distressed and troubled,” and that his “soul was overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” He felt it all. There was no anesthesia to dull the pain of that hour, no medication to control the anxiety and dread that was his as he faced the awful reality of what the next few hours would hold.

Secondly, he was a free moral agent. I realize I tread on difficult theological ground here. Could Jesus have chosen not to go to the cross at this point? I am not going to engage in that debate. I just want to point out the use of the word “will” here in verse 36: Yet not what I will, but what you will. We could paraphrase that, “Yet not what I would choose, but what you choose.”

So, we have a free moral agent in deep distress facing a critical and painful moment, a moment of choice. Thirdly, we see that he is in a close and intimate relationship with God the Father. Did you see that in verse 36? “Abba, Father,” he said. This is one of only three occasions in the Scripture where this particular Aramaic word, a very intimate word for “father”, is used. He drew upon all the reserves of that relationship. He drew upon all that he knew to be true of the Father. Everything is possible for you.

In a time of crisis and pain, Jesus as a free moral agent, drew close into his relationship with his Father, and he expressed his own desire. Take this cup from me. Theologians debate the content of the cup here. Was it the physical suffering of the cross? Or was it the awful prospect of bearing the sins of the world and being separated from the Father, however briefly? I don’t think we can answer that question with certainty. We only knew that in his humanity, his soul shrank back from what lay ahead. “Father, can you find another way? Can you take this cup away?” That was his desire, that was what his soul cried out for.

But then he yielded himself unconditionally to the will of his Father. Yet not what I will, but what you will. There is mystery here, in the divine and human nature of Jesus. But I believe there is also a model here for all of us. In preparation for the hour of crisis, in full awareness of the pain, Jesus drew close to his Father, expressed his own desires, but then submitted to the will of the Father. And when he arose the final time from prayer, he was composed, the struggle won. He went serenely to face his betrayer and those who would soon demand and take his life.

But there is another model for us to consider and learn from there in the garden. Actually, we need to go back a little earlier in the evening to capture all of it. As they sat around the table earlier in the evening, Jesus had shocked them with his words. “You will all fall away,” Jesus told them, “for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd and the sheep will be scattered.’” (v. 27)

Now Peter is having none of that. In his impetuous enthusiasm, he answers back: Even if all fall away, I will not. Jesus responds, “Peter, not only will you desert me, but today - yes, tonight – before the rooster crows twice you yourself will disown me three times.” Furiously, Peter responds, “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.”

I have no doubt in my mind that Peter meant every word that he said. His spirit was indeed willing and eager. But I want to take us, now, back to the Garden of Gethsemane and the second model. Jesus is face down in prayer and he has urged his disciples to keep watch with him. But when he came back to his followers, what did he find? Then he returned to his disciple and found them sleeping. “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing – but the body is weak.”

These are important words. The spirit is willing. (Literally, eager or full of good intentions). But the body (or the flesh) is weak. This is the reality of our earthly life. We are full of good intentions, even eager to do the right thing, to make good choices, to make a difference. But when the critical moment comes, we fail and turn away and make the wrong choice. The flesh is weak. How do we bridge that gap between our willing spirits and our weak flesh? Jesus couldn’t say it any clearer; “Watch and pray. Follow my example.”

Two more times Jesus returned to find them sleeping. What was the outcome of their sleeping through these critical hours? When the mob came to arrest Jesus in the garden, we are told in verse 50, “then everyone deserted him and fled.” And what about Peter, the eager one who was willing to die for Christ? He followed along at a distance. He had the courage to enter the high priest’s palace while the trial was taking place. But when he was challenged by a slave girl, he denied that he even knew who Jesus was. When she saw him and accused him a second time, he denied it a second time. And when the same accusation was picked up by a crowd of bystanders, he began to swear and take oaths that he had never been with Jesus. And just then the rooster crowed.

The spirit was willing and eager. But the flesh was weak. When the critical moment came, he failed his Lord. I would suggest that his failure had begun back in the upper room with his vehement claim to steadfast loyalty. “Even if everyone else falls away, I will not.” Do I need to point out the danger of overconfidence? Never say never. Never believe yourself to be beyond the reach of serious, catastrophic failure. Your spirit may be willing. But your flesh is weak. Because Peter thought it could never happen to him, he saw no urgent need to stay awake and pray. His prayer time became a nap time. When the critical moment arrived, he was not ready. And he failed miserably.

Jesus spent his hours in the garden in intense prayer. When he announced to his disciples, “The hour has come,” he was ready to face it and fulfill God’s purpose for him. He went forth to give his life as a ransom for many. The contrast could not be more sharply drawn. Let us all learn THE LESSON OF THE GARDEN.