The Strong Submission: Christ in the Garden Text: Matthew 26:36-46
Introduction: The Second Garden
History, as God tells it, is a tale of two gardens. The first garden, Eden, was a place of cool breezes, perfect fellowship, and a single, simple test. It was a place of probation. And in that garden, the first Adam, with every possible advantage, faced a paltry temptation and plunged the entire human race into ruin. He chose his will over God's will, and the result was thorns, thistles, sweat, and death. All of human history since has been the sad story of that one act of treason.
But here, in our text, we are brought to another garden. This is not a garden of pristine perfection, but a garden of agony. Gethsemane means "oil press," and it is here that the second Adam, our Lord Jesus Christ, is about to be pressed and crushed under a weight that the first Adam could not have comprehended. The fate of the world once again hangs on a choice made in a garden. Where the first Adam stood upright and fell, the second Adam falls on His face and stands firm. Where the first Adam said, in effect, "My will be done," the second Adam says, "Thy will be done." This is not merely a prelude to the cross; this is the battle that won the war. The physical suffering at Calvary was the outworking of the spiritual victory secured here, in the dark, among the olive trees.
We live in a sentimental age that likes its Jesus meek and mild, a sort of gentle victim swept up by events beyond His control. But that is not the Jesus of Gethsemane. Here we see a man in real, gut-wrenching agony, but He is also a warrior king setting His face like flint toward the battle. He is in complete command of the situation, even as He is submitting completely to His Father's will. This is the great paradox of the Christian faith: true strength is found in perfect submission. And it is in this garden that our Lord demonstrates this for us, securing our salvation in the process.
The Text
Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and said to His disciples, "Sit here while I go over there and pray." And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and distressed. Then He said to them, "My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death; remain here and keep watch with Me."
And He went a little beyond them, and fell on His face and prayed, saying, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will." And He came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and said to Peter, "So, you men could not keep watch with Me for one hour? Keep watching and praying that you may not enter into temptation; the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."
He went away again a second time and prayed, saying, "My Father, if this cannot pass away unless I drink it, Your will be done." And again He came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. And He left them again, and went away and prayed a third time, saying the same thing once more. Then He came to the disciples and said to them, "Are you still sleeping and resting? Behold, the hour is at hand and the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us go; behold, the one who betrays Me is at hand!"
(Matthew 26:36-46 LSB)
The Crushing Sorrow (vv. 36-38)
Jesus leads His disciples to Gethsemane, and the first thing to note is the separation. He leaves the eight, and takes the three, His inner circle.
"And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and distressed. Then He said to them, 'My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death; remain here and keep watch with Me.'" (Matthew 26:37-38)
These three, Peter, James, and John, were the same men who witnessed His glory on the Mount of Transfiguration. There they saw His divinity blaze forth. Now they are summoned to witness His humanity in its deepest agony. They saw Him shining like the sun; now they will see Him sweating blood. This is the fullness of our Savior: fully God and fully man. His grief is not for show. The words "grieved and distressed" point to a profound, shuddering horror. He tells them His soul is grieved "to the point of death." This is not poetic exaggeration. The weight of what He is about to bear, the sin of all His people from all of history, is a killing weight. He is staring into the abyss of God's perfect, undiluted wrath against sin, and as a sinless man, it is an absolute horror to Him.
He asks them for one thing: "remain here and keep watch with Me." This is a plea for fellowship. Not because He needed their strength to accomplish His task, but because He is a true man who desires the comfort of His friends in His darkest hour. He is about to be utterly forsaken by His Father, and here we see a foretaste of that isolation as He seeks a fellowship His disciples are incapable of providing.
The Decisive Prayer (v. 39)
Jesus then goes a little further, and the central transaction of the garden takes place.
"And He went a little beyond them, and fell on His face and prayed, saying, 'My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will.'" (Matthew 26:39 LSB)
His posture, falling on His face, is one of complete prostration and submission. This is not a casual chat with God. This is desperate, agonizing supplication. And what is the prayer? First, He appeals to His Father. This is an intimate, Trinitarian conversation. He is the beloved Son, speaking to the loving Father about the eternal plan they covenanted together before the foundation of the world.
He asks for the cup to pass. What is this cup? This is not the cup of physical suffering. This is the cup of the wrath of God. The prophets used this imagery repeatedly (Is. 51:17, Jer. 25:15). It is the cup filled with the fury of a holy God against rebellion, filth, and treason. Jesus, who had known nothing but perfect, unbroken fellowship with His Father for all eternity, is about to drink that cup to the dregs. He is about to be made sin for us (2 Cor. 5:21). The "if it is possible" shows us the reality of His human will recoiling from this horror. If there were any other way to save sinners, He asks for it. But there is no other way.
And then comes the pivot upon which all of salvation turns: "yet not as I will, but as You will." This is the anti-Eden. This is the reversal of Adam's sin. Adam said, "Not Your will, but mine." Christ says, "Not My will, but Yours." This is the moment of perfect, active obedience. This submission is not weakness; it is the ultimate act of strength. It is the Son, in His humanity, consciously and deliberately choosing the path of suffering and death in accordance with the Father's eternal decree. The victory was won right here.
The Sleeping Sentries (vv. 40-44)
The contrast between the Captain and His soldiers could not be more stark.
"And He came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and said to Peter, 'So, you men could not keep watch with Me for one hour? Keep watching and praying that you may not enter into temptation; the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.'" (Matthew 26:40-41 LSB)
While the Savior is wrestling for the fate of the cosmos, His best men are asleep on the job. The rebuke is aimed squarely at Peter, the one who had just boasted that he would die for Jesus. He couldn't even stay awake for Him for one hour. This is a picture of us. We have willing spirits. We want to do right. We make our resolutions. But our flesh is weak. We are prone to spiritual drowsiness, distraction, and failure. Jesus's diagnosis is not an excuse for their failure, but rather a statement of fact about the human condition apart from divine grace. It is a warning. If they cannot even watch, how will they stand in the trial to come? The answer is that they will not. Peter is hours away from denying he even knows the man.
Jesus goes back to pray a second and third time. His prayer changes slightly. The "if" is gone. It is now a prayer of settled resolve: "My Father, if this cannot pass away unless I drink it, Your will be done." The decision has been made. He is now simply steeling Himself for the task. And each time He returns, He finds them sleeping. Their failure is total. And this is a mercy to us, because it shows that our salvation does not depend in any way on our ability to "help" Jesus. It depends solely and entirely on His perfect obedience, His lonely watch.
The Resolved King (vv. 45-46)
After the third prayer, the time for wrestling is over. The tone changes completely.
"Then He came to the disciples and said to them, 'Are you still sleeping and resting? Behold, the hour is at hand and the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us go; behold, the one who betrays Me is at hand!'" (Matthew 26:45-46 LSB)
There is a divine irony in His question, "Are you still sleeping and resting?" The time for prayerful watching has passed, and the hour of crisis is upon them. But notice His posture. He is not being cornered. He is not being caught. He says, "Get up, let us go." Where? To run and hide? No. He is going to meet His betrayer. He is advancing on the enemy. He is marching toward the cross.
This is not a victim. This is a king. He has fought the battle with His Father in prayer and won. Now He goes to the cross, not as a tragic martyr, but as a conquering sovereign going to His throne. He is in complete control. He knows the hour is at hand, He knows He is being betrayed, and He knows who is doing it. And He moves forward to accomplish the very purpose for which He came into the world.
Conclusion: He Watched So We Could Wake
So what do we take from this dark and holy scene? We see the depth of our sin. The agony of Christ in the garden is the measure of God's hatred for sin. This is what our rebellion deserves: the full force of divine wrath. We should never treat sin lightly, because it is what pressed our Savior to the ground in Gethsemane.
We see the weakness of our flesh. Like the disciples, we are prone to sleep when we should be watching. Our best intentions are often sabotaged by our frail and fallen nature. This should produce in us a profound humility and a radical dependence on God's grace, not our own efforts.
But most of all, we see the glorious strength of our Savior. He did what we could not do. He watched when we slept. He prayed when we were silent. He said "Your will be done" so that we, who had only ever said "my will be done," could be forgiven. He drank the cup of wrath so that He could offer us the cup of salvation. He faced the temptation to abandon the mission and He did not flinch. Because He was victorious in that garden, we who are in Him are victorious as well.
Therefore, when you are tempted, when your spirit is willing but your flesh is weak, look to the garden. Look to the one who fought for you there. His victory is your victory. His obedience is counted as your obedience. He stayed awake in the garden of agony so that you could be awakened from the sleep of death into the light of eternal life.