Jesus’ Gethsemane Moment

On the night Jesus was betrayed he went with his closest followers to a garden just out of town. It was late and his followers couldn’t stay awake. Pleasing themselves, they rested, while nearby their Messiah prayed these words: “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”
After his prayer Jesus tried to wake up his followers, annoyed that they had been sleeping. He told them to watch and pray so that they will not fall into temptation. He went back alone to pray a second time only to return and find his followers sleeping soundly once more. He didn’t even try to wake them up. He prayed once more, and after that Judas came to the garden along with armed men. You know the rest of the story.
People who’ve never listened to God speak assume that he must always please himself. They figure God too seeks pleasure and avoids pain, so he should be able to do it at all the time without fail. Yet God in Christ had his Gethsemane moment. Jesus didn’t please himself, especially that night. He invited others to share in his struggle to serve.
What he hoped for ultimately, to bring many human brothers and sisters to God’s glory, called for what he didn’t want at that moment, to drink the grotesque cup of betrayal, arrest, scorn, torture, and even death. He bore our sins’ penalty, heavier than the weight of all the universe.
Paul’s Gethsemane Moment
Paul’s letter to the Romans was written for one purpose: to explain to a church that never met him why he hopes to partner with them in preaching the gospel to all people, whether they are Jewish or not. He hopes that one day voices will unite from all over the world to praise God, so he plans to go west to Spain to preach to a people who have never heard the gospel before. The church in Rome would be a key partner on the way.
God’s hope was Paul’s hope. Paul didn’t live to please himself, but to serve Christ and struggle under God’s will. Paul had been hindered from coming to Rome many times, but he still hoped he could. He wanted to write Rome before going to Jerusalem, worried he might get arrested there, or even worse, put to death. The Book of Acts tells us that the former happened, but not the latter.
Nonetheless, Paul prayed that God would allow for what he hoped – to preach in Spain, to partner with Rome, to see more and more people unite in giving praise to God, despite all their differences. But God’s will would decide it all, and Paul knew better than to hope against God’s hope. Instead, he hoped with it, including the struggle and service it entailed.
For Paul, God’s hope was worth everything: Paul’s livelihood, his safety, his time, his energy, his money—even his death. Paul had his Gethsemane moment on the way to Damascus.
Our Gethsemane Moment
When I was younger I was convinced God would call me to be a missionary someday, but I never wanted to undergo the service and struggle it would take just to get to the field. Now, here I am an appointed missionary for only a few months, and all the sudden a man who never once cared about money is obsessing over receiving thousands of dollars a month from family, friends, and churches. I call. I write. I beg. I get annoyed at silence, dismayed by the number of funds still left to raise. I became disappointed in people when I shouldn’t. I grew unsure of myself and God’s call.
Reading Romans 15 this week brought me back to Gethsemane. Throughout its verses Paul refers to God’s hope, the Spirit’s power, and the Savior’s service. I thought of my own hopes to be a missionary. Where Paul focused on God, I focused on money. Where Paul talked of God’s hope of a glorious kingdom, I thought of my hope that I’d be in Brazil next summer. When Paul laid out his plans and asked people he never met to pray for him as he struggled, I kept my struggles to myself. I never wanted to give up control, so I silently clung onto my hope that becoming a missionary would be relatively easy.
But my hope wasn’t God’s hope, for God sacrificed himself to fulfil his hope of bringing people from every tribe, tongue, and nation to life from death. Before his sacrifice Christ was already a servant who didn’t please himself. As he said to God in the garden, “may your will be done.” Paul said that too and lived it. Me? I cried. I repented. And I prayed to God, “may your will be done.” I’ll likely say it again before I make my next fundraising call, and again and again.
It’s easy to feel alone when you’ve come to your Gethsemane moment. Here you are crying out to God, while everyone around you seems to be sleeping soundly. But you are not alone. God heard Jesus’ fervent cries and saw his salty tears. Hebrews says, “Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered, and, once made perfect, became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.” Unlike Jesus that night, not everyone around you is asleep; they just might not know about your struggles because you’ve kept them to yourself. Jesus opened up about his struggles, so did Paul. We are not stronger.
You can’t learn obedience by always pleasing yourself. You won’t be made perfect without suffering. And you will likely never have your hope align with God’s hope until you too have had your Gethsemane moment.

Only, will Jesus find you awake when it comes?