Walking in Weakness and Wonder (Mt. 26:30-46)
Here’s my message from Sunday July 27th from Matthew 26:30-46. You can listen to the message here.
It’s hard to believe, but tomorrow marks five years to the date that Amy found out she had breast cancer - stage three, in fact, that had spread to her lymph nodes. Shortly after we found out, my oldest son snapped his tibia and fibula dunking the basketball at a park. And this was all right in the middle of COVID - with all of us trapped together in our house. It was a rough time for us as a family. We’re struggling as sufferers. It seemed liked everything possible was going wrong. We’re wrestling as sinners. Trying to not lose our minds online. Barely clinging on to our faith. Trying not to murder one another. But, looking back, we saw God’s goodness in so many ways. It was there in our weakness that we saw so much wonder.
Last week, again, Aaron really served us well. We saw Jesus serve His disciples the Passover. And there, He institutes the ordinance of the Supper. That meal - it pointed back to a sacrifice. And Jesus transposes it that night, for them, for us. Now it points ahead to an even greater Lamb. To Him and to His impending suffering. Jesus gets up from that meal and heads toward that death. He heads to a garden en route to the cross. There are hours of sermons in this passage for us today. But I want to focus on two main things: weakness and wonder in these disciples and Jesus. But first, let’s get our bearings here in the story.
Jesus Heads Straight to the Cross
Verse 30 tells us they all sing a “hymn” - likely one of the Psalms of Hallel. Psalms 113 through 118, sung around the Passover. We do all we can to incorporate the Psalms around here. And for good reason. What’s one way Christ prepares - to head into His biggest trial? He sings a Psalm. About the Lord and how He works. A song of Praise. Probably not a bad rhythm for us.
They head from Bethany toward Jerusalem. And they stop at what’s called the Mount of Olives. It’s the same place Jesus taught in the chapter before. Looking out over the city. Christ tells them, in verse 31, that they’ll all soon run away. And He cites Zechariah 13:7, as having predicted their fall. This wouldn’t take Him by surprise. It was a part of the plan. And so was their return. Jesus promises that to them, there in verse 32: “But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.”
We see Peter’s bravado, yet again here. In verse 33. “Maybe those guys will.” That had to be awkward. But “I will never fall away.” Peter’s really confident. But Jesus says it’s misplaced. That same night. Before it’s over - and that morning “rooster crows” - Jesus says in verse 34 that His apostle would turn His back on Him - not once but thrice. Now Peter won’t hear that. He protests some more. “Even if they kill me, I won’t do that.” And the other disciples shout the same.
Beginning in verse 36, Jesus takes them to a “place called Gethsemane.” A garden of olive groves. And the Lord heads there to pray. He commands the bulk of the group to take a seat and wait. But He invites the three who were closest to Him - Peter, James, and John - to come further in with Him. And verse 37 says that He begins to be “sorrowful and troubled.” In verse 38, Christ communicates that to them. And He asks those three to stay there and support Him in this. And He moves further into the garden and falls on His face.
And prays, we see in verse 39, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” Now that clearly is the substance of His prayer. But His prayers are lengthy, because His need is so great. As He comes back to those three and finds them asleep, He says there to Peter, in verse 40, “So, could you not watch with me one hour?”
And then Jesus warns them in verse 41. He reminds them just how needy they are. “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
In verses 42 and 43, the Lord goes back and prays again. It’s a similar prayer. But He seems to accept the will of his Father. He’ll fully obey.“Your will be done.” He knows there is no other way. He returns back to His friends. They’re caught napping again.
So Christ goes back and prays once more, a “third time, saying the same words.” We hear in verse 44. Until He goes back to those three. And wakes them up, yet again. There’s some debate about what verse 45 means. Maybe He says the time for sleeping is over. Perhaps it’s “seize some shuteye, now while you can.” We’re not totally sure. Either way, the end is nigh, the Lord Jesus tells those three friends. “See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going; see my betrayer is at hand.”
D. A. Carson says it’s likely that the Lord would have seen and heard the party of enemies approaching. Their conversation along the path. Their torches gleaming through the dark. Next week, Aaron we’ll look together at the arrest of the King. But today, two themes shine brightly from this text if we’ll see them. And they’re these - and they’re striking - weakness and wonder.
Weakness and Wonder
First, let’s consider the three disciples and us. Weakness, first of all. It’s pretty clear here. Physical weakness. Them falling asleep on the Lord. They can’t stay awake. Pray even an hour. They get tired. They doze off. They’re so weak.
Now this is built into us as humans, wired in us through creation. To need rest. But it’s been exacerbated by the fall. By the introduction of sin. Each of our bodies has a terminal illness. They say after 30, you start transitioning toward the grave. When I first planted Karis, I’d stay up until 12:30 each night. Then I’d jump up before 6 and bounce into the day. That isn’t happening, any more, you could say. We are weak physically, too. Like Peter, James, and John.
But there’s more than that kind of weakness that we see here. There’s moral weakness, too. These disciples walking away from the Lord.. Because Jesus tells them that they’ll all soon flee. They’re going to run away in fear. Even Peter, who was their leader, who talked a big game, would soon cower. He’d deny His Lord. Three different times. Once even before a child. Beyond all that, we see His defensiveness, all their pride. “Jesus, you’re crazy. We’re tough. We won’t fold.” They talk back to the Lord. They stick out their chests.
Now this is again, who you and I are, after the fall. We, too, are full of pride. Someone questions us, and we get defensive. We lash out. And we turn our backs on the Lord every day. As we often sing, “Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love.” We fear the opinions of others far too much. We don’t confess our faith as we should. We’re too easily tempted. Not just to sleep. But to sin. This is us. Morally weak, as well. Take in with me here the weakness of the disciples - and us.
But second, see the wonder of grace. The Lord’s kindness toward them. In bringing them along. Asking them to watch and pray. His patience with them when they fail. Do you see that? Here is the Lord in His life’s darkest hour. And His mind is on those disciples. And they can’t keep their eyes open an hour. And Christ doesn’t blast them. He’s kind to them.
He tells them in verse 41, “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” He sees their good intentions. Their “spirit” wants to help. But He knows that they’re frail. Their “flesh,” their bodies, aren’t strong. We might hear what Jesus says here as a rebuke. But He seems to show compassion. They’ve tried their best. They’re just weak. And He’s patient with them. He asks them to give it a couple of more tries. But even when Christ returns and finds them asleep yet again, He’s still kind. That’s our Lord.
Could it be that the Lord is also this patient with us? That He invites us to join with Him - but also knows our limits? That Christ’s not ready to scold us, but rather, to encourage us to serve with Him again.
But there’s another way that we see the Lord’s grace right here. Jesus holding on to them. We see this promise in verse 32: “But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.” Now first of all, Christ here says the cross won’t be the end. This is promise about the resurrection. But it’s also a promise about them, one for us. Jesus says, “After I rise again, I’m gonna beat you to Galilee. And I’ll welcome you there.” It’s a promise that - despite their wanderings - He’ll restore them again. He will preserve them in faith. He’ll bring them back around. Their betrayal won’t be the end. And not because of them. But because of His grace. His power. His love. As Reuben puts it in Enger’s Peace Like A River, “The weak must bank on mercy—without which, after all, I wouldn’t have lasted fifeen minutes.” That’s them. That’s u.
We need to hear this, too, if we’re His disciples today. He’ll keep us, Karis. He’ll never let us go. If we’re truly His, He’ll bring us back to Him again. Yes, we grip on to His hand as tight as we can. But it’s His grip - his strong hand - that will keep us near to Him. That’s the grace of Jesus, friends. Can you see the wonder? We may be weak. But the Lord is full of grace.
Let’s second look at the Lord Jesus - and us. And see the weakness and wonder that’s found there. Now this may strike you as odd. But we can first see the weakness of Jesus here in this text. The Lord is a human, even today, as He reigns. But we see Him here, His first ministry on earth, struggling as a man. This is the mystery of what’s called the incarnation. Jesus putting on flesh. He gets hungry and thirsty, gets tired like us. But we also see here His emotional life. He heads deep into that garden, and verse 37 says that he becomes “sorrowful and troubled.” And here, in verse 38, Jesus calls them to stand watch and says, “My soul is sorrowful, even to death.” Basically: I’m so sad I feel like I could die. He falls on His face. He’s desperate. He’s struggling. He needs help from His Father, wants friends to stand by. This is no doubt what the author of Hebrews speaks of, when he writes:
Hebrews 5:7 In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence.
Jesus agonizes here. He’s in a deep, dark place. Luke 22:44 tells us “his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” Either Jesus was just pouring out sweat from the weight of this pain. Or beyond that, it refers to a condition called hematidrosis. Where the suffering was so extreme that His capillaries burst, and blood literally seeped out with His sweat from His pores. There in Gethsemane, which means “oil press,” He’s being squeezed. To a breaking point. For us.
Have you thought about what this could all possibly mean? He understands. He’s been through it. Through the darkest of trials. The worst pain we could feel. He knows what it means to be abandoned, betrayed. He’s not just some God, smiling just from afar. He’s been there. Into the depths. And He made it out. He sees our weakness. He’s felt it, in fact. He knows. Doesn’t that mean so much? Jesus suffering as a man.
But we also see Him struggling as a Savior. This isn’t just an emotional trial. It’s deeply spiritual. Just as back in that garden there in Genesis, He’s being tempted. He asks His Father, “Isn’t there some other way?” Not, why, oh why, can’t I eat from that tree? But, Dad, oh Dad, must I really climb up there?
Remember, when He was tempted back at the beginning by Satan? Back in Matthew 4? The Devil told Him. You can have the whole world. You don’t have to face that cross. Just bow to me instead. Jesus is no doubt being hit with lies here. But He stays strong. Jesus also takes on the full brunt of temptation. He knows the struggle. Even far more than us. Because He never gives in. Hear again, from the book of Hebrews:
Hebrews 4:15 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.
He can sympathize with us. He sees our battle. He’s felt our weakness. But even beyond that, He does something about it. He’s our Savior. And that’s where I want to turn to the wonder again.
Second, see with me the wonder of the cross. Now have you maybe wondered. Why is Christ frightened this much? Now dying is no doubt hard. And crucifixion was the worst. But, many have noted. Martyrs have faced execution bravely. But Jesus is shaking. He’s quaking. Why? Well, the answer is in this talk of a “cup.” Did you see that first prayer? Verse 39: “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.”
What is this cup? It’s that our King fears. And to grasp that image, we have to look at the Old Testament. Here are just a couple of examples. Hear Psalm 75:8, first of all.
Psalm 75:8 For in the hand of the LORD there is a cup with foaming wine, well mixed,
and he pours out from it, and all the wicked of the earth shall drain it down to the dregs.
Here’s another example. Jeremiah 25.
Jeremiah 25:15 Thus the LORD, the God of Israel, said to me: “Take from my hand this cup of the wine of wrath, and make all the nations to whom I send you drink it. 16 They shall drink and stagger and be crazed because of the sword that I am sending among them.”
Here we’re not just talking about physical suffering. This is spiritual suffering. The cup He’ll drink is the cup of God’s wrath. When we talk about the cross, we talk about the atonement. Jesus taking our punishment as sinners. But this is what is called propitiation. Christ absorbing God’s wrath on behalf of us. This is the glory God wants us to see here. Jesus running straight into His Father’s wrath - for us. So we don’t have to face it, Him as judge. If we believe, we approach Him as Father. Rather than, anger, we get love. He took the brunt of God’s wrath so we wouldn’t have to. On the cross, that we’ll see in Matthew soon. And that’s wondrous.
But here, Jesus gets a foretaste of that. Jonathan Edwards compared it to the furnace of Nebuchadnezzar. Remember that story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego from Daniel chapter 3? Where they’re tossed into the fire? Edwards says it’s like Jesus draws near. He can feel the heat. He see the flames. And even that fills Him with horror. The One who was in the furnace with those men - He goes straight there for us. So we wouldn’t have to. He runs straight toward hell, that we might have heaven.
And with that, friends, hear me: maybe you say you can’t bear a God who’s this mad. You can’t stomach talk of hell. You want a God of love, you say. But doesn’t this show the extent of God’s love? He endured all this for you and me. That other love is like a Hallmark movie. Jesus gives up everything to show the extent of His love.
And He does it willingly. We don’t just see His crucifixion. We see His submission - to His Father. Not just His passive obedience - going to the cross. But His active obedience - doing everything His Father asked. Some have tried to call this divine child abuse. As if the Father grabbed Jesus and forced Him into this. Christ knows this is His destiny. It’s why He’d come to earth. So therefore, He prays, in verse 42, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” He prays as He teaches us to pray back in Matthew 6. He wants God’s kingdom to come, and His will to be done. And He knows there’s only one way all that comes about. He’ll willingly drink this cup. He’ll down it fully for you, for me. So we don’t have to swallow it ourselves.
D. A. Carson explains it in this beautiful way:
“In the first garden ‘Not your will but mine’ changed Paradise to desert and brought man from Eden to Gethsemane. Now ‘Not my will but yours’ brings anguish to the man who prays it but transforms the desert into the kingdom and brings man from Gethsemane to the gates of glory.” (D. A. Carson)
So not only does Jesus understand our pain. He died to fix it on the cross. His cross has paid the price. For this world to be fully healed. And that includes our bodies. Our physical weakness will be gone. But He also paid for our sins. We’ll shake this moral weakness, too. Do you see the wonder in that?
Here in this passage, I want you to see the weakness of the disciples and the wonder of His grace. And also see the weakness of Jesus - and the wonder of the cross. And here’s what’s so important - the connection between the two. It’s the weakness that leads to the wonder. Without seeing just how weak we are - and how much we need His strength - we’ll never see the wonder of God and what He’s done.
John Calvin once explained it this way:
“For then do we make room for Christ’s grace, when in true humility of mind, we feel and confess our own weakness. The valleys are watered with rain to make them fruitful, while in the mean time, the high summits of the lofty mountains remain dry. Let that man, therefore, become a valley, who is desirous to receive the heavenly rain of God’s spiritual grace.” (John Calvin)
Look at Peter here again, asserting His strength, trying to look like a mountain. He hasn’t got a clue. And he looks so much like us. “I’ll never betray you Jesus.” And within an hour, he’s snoring in the garden. Later, of course, He’s like, “I don’t know who He is!” We’re not as strong as we think we are.
But this is the way of the Christian life. The way of the valley, receiving His rain. His “power is made perfect in weakness,” Paul wrote, in 2 Corinthians 12:9. And it’s also the way of this upside-down kingdom. Where it’s “blessed are the beggars, for they’ll be the ones to rule. Blessed are the crybabies, because they’ll have God’s embrace. Blessed are those who don’t throw around their weight, as they’ll gain the whole world.” And so on. Amy talks about how in the hardest part of her treatments, picking up a tissue felt so heavy to her. She was just that weak. She needed the Lord that much. And that’s all of us, church.
Here in Karis, it’s ok to be weak. In fact, it’s recommended. Because that’s what’s real. It’s ok to live in reality around here. You don’t have to act tough. It’s such a waste of time. You can put down your guard. We’re all in the same boat here. And here, you also don’t have to be perfect. You can admit your faults. You can walk in the light, confessing your sins. You have nothing to prove. You have no one to impress. It’s ok to be weak - physically and spiritually. Because that’s the only way we see the gospel as wonderful. It’s weakness that opens us up to wonder.
And it’s also ok here to get pretty joyful. You can let your hair down. And get lost in the wonder. Shout out loud. Clap your hands. Dance around if you want. It would do us well, Karis, to not take ourselves nearly as seriously. Maybe to be accused like David, made fun by his wife, back in 2 Samuel 6, for making a fool of Himself. Because he was so full of joy. Let’s allow our weakness to open us up to His wonder, Karis. His grace, His gospel are just that amazing.
Living In Light of this Weakness and Wonder
I want to spend a few more minutes thinking how to apply this to our lives. First, let’s take talking with our Father. We need to talk about prayer. As it’s obviously a pretty big theme of these words. Think about prayer and our need. Look how desperately Christ here needs His Father. In trials. In temptation. If He has that need, don’t we certainly need it, too? Even more, you might say. For His power? For His Spirit to work. I love the way Gloria Furman puts it: “God is inviting you every day to wake up and say, ‘I can’t do this.’” Now that mentality will lead to prayer.
Think about prayer and our community. Jesus the King wants the support of His friends. He needs committed disciples around Him to watch for Him and pray. You and I need that, as well. Amy talks about how she saw wonder the most - as we walked together through those really dark days. Those really hard times, when she had to crawl to the toilet, and thought she couldn’t go on, she almost always would receive an encouraging text, a card in the mail, a goofy stuffed llama in a box. She felt the love of the Father, through the love of His church. We all need that community, Karis.
Think about prayer and His will. There are two different extremes we can drift toward in prayer. And they’re reflected by focusing on just half of Christ’s prayer. Verse 39 again: “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” Jesus here expresses His desire. But He submits His will to God. On one hand, we can swing to just demanding our wants. This we could call the prosperity gospel route. Where we believe and pray hard enough, and God’s obligated to give. On the other, we can just consign ourselves to what’s already His plan. We could call this the hyper-Calvinist route. All you do is pray “Your will be done” over and over.
Here’s a better, biblical idea. We express our desires to the Father. And we don’t hold back. But we also submit to His will. We know that as we grow in His grace, He’ll be conforming our desires to His. But we pray big, bold prayers. And trust that He knows best. Because ultimately we really don’t know what we need. We know He’ll give us what’s good. And it’s His glory that we’re first and foremost all about.
I remember walking and crying and praying in those days. When I first heard of her diagnosis. And I feared losing my wife. I begged God not to take her. And praise Him, she’s still here. But we both have to trust God’s good and holy will.
I remember a couple visiting us back several years ago. I had lunch with them a couple of times. I really hoped they’d land here. I prayed toward that end. But they ended up at another church. And I was really disappointed. But this guy became a very famous - more like, infamous - politician. And I’ve thanked God since for an unanswered prayer.
Second, let’s think about living with our Father. If we grasped our weakness and opened our hearts up to wonder, it’d change so much. Think about how the Lord views us. He doesn’t look at our frame and get disgusted. He’s fashioned and formed us. He knows that we’re frail. And that we’re fallen, as well. He knows we’re fickle. We doze off to sleep. We deny at times who He is. Yet He’s patient.
And if Christ drank that cup, and our trust is in Him, it means our Dad’s not angry at us. Jesus emptied that cup. He swallowed every drop. That’s gospel.
And if Jesus submitted to His will - obeyed every word - even to go to the cross - it means that, by faith, all His obedience is also given to us. And that means He approves of us. He likes what He sees. And we can relax. And even dance.
But with that, let’s think about how we should view others. If all that’s true, if we’re as weak as we’ve seen - and the Lord has shown these wonders to us - how can we not be patient, when others are weak? When we’re betrayed? How can we not endure the pain of forgiveness - when Christ has gone through this much? The wonders of the gospel should transform our relationships.
And it should also impact our mission to the world. I’ve thought a whole lot about the mess that we’re in. Wit the church running after power - no matter what it costs. Where we see lots of anger. Very little joy. And certainly not much love. Maybe we’ve just not been taught solid theology - about the incarnation, truths like propitiation.
Imagine if we really understood what it meant to be human. And what the incarnation of Jesus really means for us. That we’re weak. Each of us. It would make us more humble. And way more loving. And we’d realize seizing power is the opposite of what we should do.
Imagine if we really grasped the beauty of His grace. And everything that went in to Him suffering on that cross. It would make us fall down in worship. And fill our hearts with joy. It’s hard to be a jerk if you’re enamored by grace. We’d be known for our love. You see, it’s the weakness that moves us into wonder. You can’t have one with out the other, my friends.
And that wonder transforms us. We’re not just sinners and sufferers. We’re now saints. Set apart. Devoted to Him. For love.
Now Jesus isn’t just a man. He’s God. And note: He never avails Himself of those divine attributes here. But one day, He will come on the clouds, in glory. Talk about wonder!
We Begin At The End
Well, next week we’ll be looking at the arrest of our King. Judas betrays Him, just as Christ said. Peter puts up a fight, as he, too, had promised. But Christ willingly lets them take Him away. And His prophecy - that they’d all run and hide - gets fulfilled. They’re weak - like us - as we’ve seen today. And Christ’s promise still stands. He’ll bring them back.
I just finished this fantastic novel by Chris Whitaker. It’s called We Begin at the End. I’m still trying figure out all what the title all means. But I do know this. It’s at the end of our own resources that we truly encounter His. It’s where we really get started. Desperation is what leads to delight. Weakness leads to wonder. It’s before the ocean of His mercy that we really see who we are. Let’s pray now, Karis.