Printer Friendly VersionOur Lenten sermon series has centered on the last 24 hours of
Jesus life. Where did He go? What did He do? What were His priorities? What
people did He see? How does He respond to the circumstances He finds himself
in?
A couple of weeks ago we stated that the Gospel writers spent
32 percent of their writings dealing with the final week of Jesus’ life.
While they only have 9 events of Jesus’ life in common, five of those
events take place during His last 24 hours. Clearly the final 24 hours are
very significant in the telling of Jesus’ story, and should be very
significant to us.
Last week we looked at the final meal Jesus shared with His
disciples. It was at this meal Jesus taught some important truths, washed
the disciples’ feet, instituted the Lord’s Supper, and prayed
for those disciples in the Upper Room with Him. He also included us in His
prayer.
It was a very close and intimate time between Jesus and His
disciples. We would expect in His last 24 hours to have spent such a time
with His disciples--the men He had been with for the last 3 years. So it’s
no wonder Jesus would say to these guys in Luke 22:15, “I have eagerly
desired to eat this Passover meal with before I suffer.” You’d
expect that.
Following this time together, Jesus leaves the Upper Room and
heads to the Mount of Olives. More specifically, Jesus goes to an olive grove
at the Mount of Olives known as the Garden of Gethsemane. Let me read Matthew’s
account of the evening. The following takes place between 7 PM and 12 AM:
(Read Matthew 26:36-46 here).
This isn’t the picture of Jesus we normally see. I’ve
seen lot of pictures of Jesus. You have too. Usually they are nice and serene.
They are pretty and genteel. My dad probably would say Jesus needs a haircut
in most of those pictures, but other than that they are usually pretty bland
pictures.
When I think of Jesus I think of pictures like this: Jesus as
the good shepherd (show 1st picture). Or Jesus at the hearts door (show 2nd
picture). Or even Jesus laughing (show 3rd picture). I like that one. Maybe
you grew up in a tradition when Jesus was pictured like this (show 4th picture).
Or when you think of Jesus, you picture the Passion of Christ (show 5th picture).
Or if by chance you were to ever think of the night we are talking--His last
night, the night He was hanging out and praying in the Garden of Gethsemane,
maybe you think of this familiar portrait (show 7th picture).
I’ve got to be honest--none of those pictures show Jesus
as the Gospel writers describe Him in the garden. He wasn’t smiling.
He wasn’t genteel. Matthew said, Jesus was “anguished and distressed.”
Jesus himself said: “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point
of death” (v. 38).
That picture of Jesus hanging out by the rock, halo around His
head, moon beam in His face--that’s not what Matthew, Mark, Luke, and
John describe.
I picture Him down in the dirt. He was crying out before God.
He was anguished. Distressed. The Message version says He was “plunged
into an agonizing sorrow.” I’ve been around folks who have been
plunged into an agonizing sorrow. They had no moon beams and halos and they
sure never looked like that picture.
And we know the reason for this depth of despair: “Jesus
knowing all that was going to happen to him . . . ” (John 18:4). Here
He is, the final 24 hours. Less than that now, the clock is ticking, and Jesus
knows, completely knows, what’s coming.
Make sure you understand the impact--this isn’t just another
martyr on the eve of his execution. There have been a lot of martyrs. A lot
of people have known they have 24 hours to live, and they get a final meal
and a final phone call and maybe a final request. That’s not what is
happening here. Jesus is not a martyr.
Jesus is the Lamb of God. That’s what John the Baptist called Him way
back in the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. Jesus comes walking up, John
the Baptist sees Him and says: “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away
the sin of the world.” He didn’t say “Here comes Jesus.”
Or “Hey, here comes my cousin!” No he said, “Behold! The
Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”
Jesus is the Lamb of God. What’s that mean?
Once a year, on the Day of Atonement, in a very solemn ceremony,
the people of Israel would all gather at the temple. That year’s High
Priest would enter the Holy of Holies, the inner sanctuary of the temple--the
only time anyone would enter the holy of holies all year long was on the Day
of Atonement. And there was only one guy who was allowed to enter the holy
place: the High Priest. No one else would be let in. Some traditions say that
the High Priest would enter the Holy of holies with a rope tied around his
waist. The rope was tied on just in case he might somehow offend God or have
a heart attack or keel over in some fashion while in there. No one else could
enter if something happened once the High Priest was inside the Holy of Holies
and so if he became incapacitated, they could drag him out.
So the high priest, once a year, only time ever for him, rope
tied around his waist--would enter the Holy of Holies--and with him he would
take a spotless, perfect lamb. Once inside and at the appointed time, he would
grab the lamb, and he would shout really loud so all the people on the outside
could hear it: “The sins of the people be upon you.”
And at that moment the perfect lamb would ceremonially receive
all the sins of all the Israelites. All the killings, all the rapes, all the
dishonesty, all the sleaze, all the lies, all of it would be placed upon that
lamb. That lamb at that moment became the “sacrificial lamb.”
And now, Jesus is the living, perfect, Lamb of God. And on this
night before His death, He realizes, completely understands, the full impact
of that truth. As the Lamb of God, He is going to take upon himself the sins
of the entire human race. Every object ever coveted. Every broken promise.
Every one-night stand, abuse, rape, lie, murder, every sick and twisted perversion--every
sin is going to be upon Him. Adolph Hitler’s sins. Charles Manson’s
sins. Jeffrey Dahlmer’s sins. Saddam Hussein's sins. My sins. Your sins.
Every sin will be upon Him. He will be sin. Disgusting. Awful. Horrific. Sin.
The Eternal One who has always been, the Way, the Truth, the Life. The One
who has never known sin will become sin.
This is no simple martyr. He is the Lamb of God readying himself to be our
sacrificial lamb. Do you get the picture?
So it’s no wonder Matthew says He is anguished and distressed.
It’s no wonder Luke says His prayer was so fervent and He was in such
agony that “his sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood”
(22:46). So you see it’s not a pretty picture. No pretty rock or moon
beam or halo. It’s agony. It’s torment. It’s the highest
sorrow on the worst night of His life.
To make matters worse: His friends are no help. Those guys who
that just moments before said: “Jesus you can count on us. We will always
be there for you Jesus. We got your back Jesus.” But they didn’t
“have His back.” He could not count on them.
Peter, James, and John--His closest, His very closest disciples--Jesus
took with Him deeper into the garden and He laid it out for them: "My
soul is crushed with grief to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch
with me.” That’s pretty straight forward, don’t you think?
Men, your friend needs you. He’s in agony. He’s troubled. He needs
you to support Him, to sit with Him, pray for Him. This is His worst night--you
need to be there for Him. And yet, they couldn’t do it. They fell asleep.
Oh, I know we can make excuses for them: It was a long day. They had eaten
a big Passover meal. They were really tired. We want to say to them: “C’mon
men, Jesus needs you. You said you’d be there for Him!” But they
fell asleep?
Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on them. How many times
have you known without question what the Lord wanted from you and for whatever
reason you didn’t come through? You blew it. You failed. The disciples
were in that boat! Jesus had made His desire for them clear: stay awake, pray
with me, be here for me, and they blew it.
So in the Garden, the worse night of His life, just moments
before His betrayal, arrest, trial and beatings, and crucifixion it was just
Jesus and the Father. He was crying out to God. Did you hear His prayer? He
prayed: "My Father! If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken
away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”
Matthew tells us that He repeated that prayer several times.
“God, I’d rather not go through this. The thought of being separated
from you, the thought of dying on the cross is more than I can bear. I’d
rather not drink of this cup . . . but I want your will to be done, not mine.”
Can you imagine what Jesus is going through? Just a little bit?
Have you ever been there? Of course, you’ve never been asked to die
for the sins of all people. I’m not saying that--but you’ve had
a worst night. Many of you in this room can recall the time when you were
in agony, when you suffered, or when you experienced the worst night of your
life.
Maybe your child came home high on drugs. Or maybe they didn’t
come home at all. Maybe you were visited by some police officers who told
of a tragic, devastating accident.
Maybe your spouse came home and told of an affair.
Your boss said, “You’re fired.”
Your doctor said, “Cancer.”
It’s the worst night of your life.
Or maybe your worst night was anticipating the next day.
Sometimes the waiting is the worst:
Maybe the next day . . . you were facing a major surgery.
Maybe the next day . . . you would be facing a divorce court.
Maybe the next day . . . you knew that a confrontation was coming,
trouble was brewing, and problems would soon to be there.
It’s the worst night of your life. You’ve been there.
You can’t sleep. You can’t eat. You can’t think of anything
but the situation. It’s the worst!
Maybe you are like Jesus was that night: it’s just you
and God. No one else is around. What do you do? There’s no other support.
No comforting words of help. No shoulder to cry on. What do you do?
Maybe some of you are there right now? Maybe some in this room would admit
to being in that spot right now. And it’s not just a bad night, but
it’s been a bad month, a bad year.
Maybe you’ve cried yourself to sleep a lot lately. What
can you do? Can I encourage you to do what Jesus did? He opened up His heart
and He was just poured it out before God. It sure doesn’t seem that
He was worried what others might have thought of Him, or worried how He appeared.
This wasn’t moonbeam and genteel. He was desperate. He needed to meet
with God. And if the disciples wouldn’t or couldn’t pray with
Him--if it was just Him--then so be it that would have to do. What mattered
was that He had to connect with God.
Listen, if you are in the middle of the storm. Call out to Him.
Cry out to Him. Go back to Him--like Jesus did again and again and again.
Connect with Him. Nothing else matters, just connect with Him.
Pastor, don’t you think I’ve tried. I’ve called
out and heard nothing then keep on trying. Don’t stop. Keep on going
before God. Don’t you see that’s what Jesus did? He didn’t
pray this prayer once and say, “Okay, I’m good to go.” No.
He kept on praying it. Kept on praying it. Kept on praying it.
Jesus was honest with God. He sure wasn’t trying to paint
a rosy picture, or be something He wasn’t. He was honest. He said it:
If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken away from me. In other
words, I don’t want to go down this road. I don’t want to have
to travel this path. If there is some other way God, that will be okay by
me. That would be perfectly fine if you want to come up with a “Plan
B.”
Sometimes I think we are less than honest with God. Maybe we
think some how we will offend Him if we admit that we don’t know what’s
going on. So we act like things are okay when we know things are not. Or we
think we need to be strong, so we pray like are full of faith, when in reality
we are full of questions, doubts, worries, confusion, trouble. Listen God
already knows what is in your heart of hearts. You can’t fake out God.
If you are worried, He knows it. If you’re scared, He knows it. If you
are troubled, He knows it. If you can’t sleep, can’t think, can’t
eat, can’t function, He knows it. So be honest. Jesus sure was. “God
if there is any other way, because I don’t want to drink of this cup.”
Not only was Jesus open and honest, He was faithful. Remember
how He concluded His prayer: I want your will to be done, not mine.”
It boils down to this, God: I want your will done, not mine.”
Now that’s the toughest part. Those are some of the most difficult words
to honestly ever pray. “God here’s what I want. Here’s where
I am at. This is my desire. But in the end, it’s not about me Lord.
What do you want? I’ll do whatever you want! I want your will to be
done, not mine."
Whoa! That’s hard to pray, especially when it’s
your kid laying in the hospital bed, when it’s your wife that just walked
out the door, when it’s your parent that is dying. Wow, that’s
hard to pray. I want your will done Lord, not mine.
When we pray for God’s will to be done then we can know
that the best, the absolute best outcome in the big picture will be accomplished.
That doesn’t mean it’s the easiest. It doesn't mean that it’s
the pain free option, or the no trouble option. Or the everybody hold hands
and sing “Kum Ba Ya” option. That’s not it. Jesus prayed
this prayer--not my will but yours God--and it led to a cross. He was mocked.
He was beaten. He was crucified. God’s will was not the easy choice.
In many ways the victory at Calvary, the victory of the Cross,
was accomplish in Gethsemane right at this point. You understand that right?
It was Jesus’ determination. It was Jesus prayer— I will do what
God has for me. It’s not about my will: it’s “may His will
be done.”
You’ve got to meet with God, you’ve got to be honest
before God, before you ever get to that spot.
Jesus was open, honest, faithful. On the darkest night, arguably
the worst night of His life, when it was just Him and the Father, He was open,
honest, and faithful.
On your dark nights,maybe it’s right now (on Sunday morning),
I encourage you to be the same way: Open. Honest. Faithful.
Jesus’ words to those sleepy disciples are good advice for us on our
dark, dark nights. Did you see what He told them: Watch and Pray.” (Matthew
26:41) When the night is long, trouble is brewing and you don’t know
what is going to happen next: Watch and Pray! Be open. Be honest. Be faithful!
Watch and Pray.
Jim Cymbala, pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle, in his book
Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire talks about a night when he was at the end of his rope.
When his daughter was 16 she had fallen in with the wrong crowd.
She started acting out in terrible ways. They tried everything: begged, pleaded,
scolded, argued. Nothing worked. She just grew more and more hard.
He says:
How I kept on functioning through that time . . . I don't know.
Many Sunday mornings, I would put on my suit, drive to church and cry and
cry all the way there. Eventually his daughter--Chrissy--left home. They didn’t
know where she was. They didn’t know what to do. They were praying.
They were interceding. But his daughter was gone. For a couple of months his
daughter was gone. She left in the late fall--she wasn’t there at Christmas.
She was gone.
And let me give you a little insight into being a pastor. Even
though your family might be in need of prayer, you don’t want to constantly
have that need in front of the church, other people have needs too. The church
isn’t just about the pastor. So in Cymbala’s case the church folks
knew a little about the situation, but not a lot. They knew that Chrissy had
run away, but they certainly didn’t focus on her situation.
In one of their mid-week services, (they have a Tuesday mid-week
service): a young woman sent him a note right in the middle of the service
it said: “Pastor Cymbala I feel impressed that we should stop the meeting
and all pray for your daughter.”
He kind of hesitated. Did he have a right to change the flow of the service
for a personal need? Is this something he should do? Something in the note
rang true.
So he picked up the microphone and this is what he said: “The
truth of the matter is that although I haven’t talked about it much,
my daughter is very far from God these days. She thinks up is down and down
is up; dark is light and light is dark. But I know that God can break through
to her, and so I am going to ask one of the pastors to lead us in praying
for Chrissy.”
One of the associate pastors began to pray for his daughter.
Listen to how Rev. Cymbala describes the next couple of minutes. He wrote:
“I can only employ a metaphor: The church turned into a labor room.
The sounds of women giving birth are not pleasant, but the results are wonderful
. . . . There arose a groaning, a sense of desperate determination, as if
to say, “Satan, you will not have this girl. Take your hands off of
her--she’s coming back!” He said he was overwhelmed. The force
of all those people calling on God almost knocked him over. It was a wonderful
time of prayer.
He went home that night-–his wife had been sick and was not at the meeting--but
when he got home he looked at Carol his wife and said: “It’s over.”
She said: What’s over?”
He said: “It’s over with Chrissy. You would have
had to be in the prayer meeting tonight. I tell you, if there is a God in
heaven this whole nightmare is finally over.”
Then listen to what happens next:
Thirty two hours later, as Jim Cymbala was shaving on Thursday
morning, his wife burst through the door and said, “You gotta go downstairs.
Chrissy is here.”
He went to their kitchen where he saw his daughter whom he hadn’t
seen in months. She was on the floor, sobbing saying, “Dad I’ve
sinned against God. I’ve sinned against myself. I’ve sinned against
you and mom. Please forgive me.”
And then she said this: “Who was praying on Tuesday night?”
He didn’t answer, so she continued. “In the middle of the night,
God woke me and showed me I was heading toward this abyss. There was no bottom
to it--it scared me to death. I was so frightened. I realized how hard I’ve
been, how wrong, how rebellious.”
“But at the same time, it was like God wrapped His arms
around me and held me tight. He kept me from sliding any farther and He said
“I still love you. Daddy I know somebody was praying for me. Who was
praying on Tuesday night?”
Can I tell you--when you are at the end of your rope, it feels
like you are alone, there is no where to turn and no where to go, and when
it’s the worse night of your life, God knows what you are going through.
He’s been there. That’s what Gethsemane is all about.
Jesus himself had the awful, horrible worst night of His life
too. And what did He do? He went to God. He was open, honest, and faithful.
And the victory came!
Maybe you are going through some rough times right now. And
you want to be like Jesus. It’s not about appearance--what will other
people think--you are way beyond that. It’s saying, “I just need
to pray. I just need to connect with God. My kid is in trouble, I need to
pray. My marriage is in trouble, I need to pray. My life is in shambles, I
need to pray. I need to connect with God. Be open. Be honest. Be faithful!
“
Anybody here like that?
