The Greatest Terror

 Matthew 26:39 says "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."  

Here, Jesus is in the Garden of Gethsemane just before He is arrested, begging God for another way, but only if God wills it.  In my younger years of faith, I thought to myself, "Well sure, He is terrified of the pain and agony He will have to go through.  He is fully human and so will suffer so much pain from the torture He must endure.  Of course He wants to avoid that pain!"  But as I have grown, I really think that it not it at all.  Later, in Matthew 27:46, we read "About the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, "Eli, Eli, Lama sabachthani?" that is "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?""  This, my friends, must be the greatest terror ever known to mankind.  Jesus had all the sins of the world, for all time, laid on Him on the cross.  God could not look on sin, and so could not look on Jesus.  How terrifying!  The Source of all strength, all goodness, all everything, cut off from you.  I cannot imagine, nor do I want to.  We think that the whipping and the beating and the horrible physical death was awful for Jesus and, yes, I'm sure it was.  But the real terror, the real pain, the real suffering, came from being separated from the Father.  Even though Jesus knew this was temporary and the cost was worth it to Him, the agony He must have gone through.  

Maybe we need a perspective check.  Am I so afraid of physical or emotional pain that I separate myself a little from the Father?  Am I avoiding a tiny amount of pain in this world when what I should be focused on is not only avoiding the greatest terror and agony myself, but helping all the people I come into contact with avoid that agony?  I would never want anyone I know to go through physical torture, so why do I not say more, act more, love more, to help them not go through worse?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I am not . . .

Crushed, but not broken

Psalm 127