There are two notable moments in Matthew’s gospel in which Jesus invites Peter, James and John – his three closest and most trusted companions and disciples – to go off alone with him so that Jesus can reveal himself to them in a unique way.
The first time Jesus leads them up a mountain to witness his transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-13). On that mountain, flanked by Moses and Elijah, Jesus discloses his glory to them. “His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light” (vs. 2). In the glow of that light, Peter stammers out a plan to build three shelters for them because “it is good that we are here” (vs. 4). Beholding the glory of Jesus, the disciples want to prolong the moment and cling to his revealed majesty.
The next moment comes in Matthew 26 when Jesus invites these same three to step with him into the garden of Gethsemane on the evening of his betrayal and arrest. There they receive a similar revelation of Jesus’ true nature, but this time, instead of his blinding glory, they are invited to see the full weight of his humanity. They see his anguish, his anxiety, his tears, and his wrestling with the will of the Father.
In his moment of agony, Jesus asks his friends to keep watch with him. He shares our common human longing not to be left alone in our suffering and fear.
His disciples fail him.
They cannot sit with him in his sorrow and watch with him in his misery. Whatever empathy they might feel is overwhelmed by their exhaustion, their willing spirits succumbing to their weak flesh as they drift off into sleep. During his transfiguration, Peter, James, and John want to camp out in the light of Jesus’ divine glory. But as they witness his agony in Gethsemane, they sleep through the darkness of his all-too-human trial.
We, too, are often far more drawn to Jesus’ exalted victory than we are to his suffering and humiliation. Like the Apostle Paul, we want to know him in the power of his resurrection. Unlike Paul, we rarely want to “share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death” (Philippians 3:10).
Toward the end of his life, writing from prison to his closest friend, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote that the Christian must fully engage with the “tasks, questions, successes, failure, experiences, and perplexities” of this world as one that “stays awake with Christ in Gethsemane.”
The invitation to stay awake with Christ in Gethsemane is not to look away from life’s sorrows and struggles. It is a call to feel the weight of this world’s sin, confusion, suffering, injustice, and doubt as our Lord does. This is a part of the unbreakable unity of Christ’s person in the Incarnation. In his exalted state, Christ continues to bear the sorrows of this world and to intercede for us before the Father.
As Christians reflect on the cross, it reminds us not to numb, distract, or deceive ourselves about this fallen world. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus announces his blessing upon those who mourn, promising them his comfort (Matthew 5:4). We enjoy the comfort of Christ’s resurrection hope, and the comforting presence of the Spirit in this life even as we long for the consummation of Christ’s Kingdom.
What might it mean for us to stay awake with Jesus in Gethsemane?
First, it means embracing lament as a spiritual practice.
Christ models lament and sorrow in the garden. Lament is the posture of bringing our grief to God in prayer. The weight of humanity’s plight is heavy on the heart of Jesus in the garden. Scottish hymn writer Henry Lyte wrote the beautiful lyrics to “Did Christ O’er Sinners Weep”:
Did Christ o’er sinners weep,
And shall our cheeks be dry?
Let floods of penitential grief
Burst forth from every eye.
The Son of God in tears
The wondering angels see;
Be thou astonished, O my soul;
He shed those tears for thee.
This hymn invites us to join with Christ’s weeping over sinners suffering through life in a fallen world marked by shame, injustice, violence, and death, and to give voice to this sorrow in prayer.
Secondly, it means recognizing Christ’s suffering with us and for us.
Christ embraced our full humanity, including our weakness and sorrow, so that we might be redeemed and ultimately delivered from sin and death. The Heidelberg Catechism asks the question of what it means when the Apostles’ Creed says of Christ’s suffering that he “descended into hell,” and answers with this response: “to assure me during attacks of deepest dread and temptation that Christ my Lord, by suffering unspeakable anguish, pain, and terror of soul, on the cross but also earlier, has delivered me from hellish anguish and torment” (Q 44).
Of course Christ suffers on our behalf on the cross, but the addition of “also earlier” reminds us that Christ’s entire life was an embrace of humility and suffering for us and our salvation. We find security in Christ’s faithful sacrifice, not our own.
Finally, it means following Christ in submission to the divine will.
In one of the great mysteries of the Incarnation, we eavesdrop on the prayer of Jesus as he wrestles with, and ultimately embraces, the will of his Father. He shows that praying our human longing is not sinful so long as we do so in a spirit of submission to the good plan of our Father.
Christ prays, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39). We are free to pray to our Father to relieve our suffering and to alleviate our fears if it be possible. But in the end, even in the face of suffering and into the shadow of death, we learn to say with Jesus, “Not as I will, but as you will.”
As Christians recall the substitutionary sacrifice of our Savior, let’s heed the call to stay awake with Jesus in the midst of this life’s sufferings. May he find us awake and attentive to our Father’s call.
Dave Abney serves as lead pastor of Christ Community Church in Fayetteville, Arkansas.