James Nisbet Commentary - Luke 22:44 - 22:44

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James Nisbet Commentary - Luke 22:44 - 22:44


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This Chapter Verse Commentaries:

THE AGONY OF CHRIST

‘And being in an agony He prayed more earnestly: and His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.’

Luk_22:44

There are no flowers so beautiful as those which grow in Gethsemane and in the Garden by the Cross. Gethsemane has been called ‘the rose garden of God.’

I. The agony of Jesus was unique.—Do you see that lone Figure prostrate on the cold ground under the olives (Mat_26:39)? Do you hear the night wind moaning through the trees? He asks for human sympathy, but finds none. In His unknown agony the drops of blood fall on the turf. ‘Not My will, but Thine be done’; in those words lay the victory and the glory of Gethsemane. In fact, the battle was won as He wrestled in prayer under the olives, and then He walked calmly to the high altar of the Cross.

II. The Christ of Gethsemane can teach us to say, ‘Thy Will be done’ in earth’s darkest days.

III. Gethsemane’s angel.—‘And there appeared unto Him an angel from heaven, strengthening Him’ (Luk_22:43). Every Christian life has its Gethsemane of some kind, but every Gethsemane has its angel.

IV. If it is denied that Christ bare any penalty for sin, how can we explain the agony in the garden, or the cry on the Cross—‘My God, My God, why didst Thou forsake Me?’

Rev. F. Harper.

Illustration

‘Here are some verses by F. W. Faber on “The Agony,” very touching and beautiful:—

My God! My God! and can it be

That I should sin so lightly now,

And think no more of evil thoughts,

Than of the wind that waves the bough?

I sin,—and heaven and earth go round,

As if no dreadful deed were done,

As if God’s Blood had never flowed

To hinder sin, or to atone.

I walk the earth with lightsome step,

Smile at the sunshine, breathe the air,

Do my own will, nor ever heed

Gethsemane and Thy long prayer.

Shall it be always thus, O Lord?

Wilt Thou not work this hour in me

The grace Thy Passion merited,

Hatred of self and love of Thee?

Oh, by the pains of Thy pure love,

Grant me the gift of holy fear;

And give me of Thy Bloody Sweat

To wash my guilty conscience clear.’