This
is the second time Peter attempts to stop the crucifixion. The first was in
Caesarea Philippi when he used his tongue to rebuke Jesus for the thought of
the crucifixion. Peter’s rebuke was driven by love and devotion for his
master. Love can err, which Peter’s
ignorant love did, and was met with: “Get thee behind me, Satan!”
Between that attempt with words and this
attempt with a sword, Jesus attempts a stay of execution with prayer. He begs
the Father to remove the cup, but the providential hand from heaven holds
fast! With two failed attempts by Peter and one by Himself, Jesus
confesses the obvious, that this event is unavoidably bound by Scripture.
The Trinity and the Incarnation are tough
truths that go far beyond our ability to comprehend. They do not, however, exceed
the mystery of Jesus’ garden prayer. What is He doing on His knees? How could
He be agonizing so thoroughly over something that could never be? Why would He
take on the immovable object of the Father’s unalterable plan? He Who was
angered at the thought of stopping this event is now appealing from the depth
of His innermost Being that it be avoided. Not until we get to heaven shall we
be able to understand what is happening here.
Despite the mystery, perhaps there is a
lesson here that few have learned. When I was young, I used to hear the
expression: “praying through.” Perhaps, that is what Jesus is doing here.
Perhaps, He is praying beyond the realm of possibility. Perhaps, He has gone
deeper into the human prayer life than the norm and has left logic far behind
in the dust. Perhaps, He is traveling beyond everything that a human being can
surround himself with and approaching the throne of grace naked and
unencumbered by anything other than the human desire for survival. Maybe, He is
showing us that the peace that passes understanding lies far beyond the
distance we normally travel in our relationship with the Father.
Is it possible that the last few miles of
faith before we reach Him are the most difficult to travel? We all recognize
His infinite superiority to us in the area of power, wisdom and love. Is it
possible that we are afraid to leave our comfortable realm of sights and sounds
and go deeper into the mystery of His grace? Is it possible that what Jesus
experienced in His lonely prayer of agony in the garden is what we all need to
face our most difficult hours? Is it possible that His strength is waiting for
us just beyond the comfortable distances we are used to traveling in our prayer
life?