TerryLema

Philippians 1:27: “Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.”

 “Whatever happens ….”  Paul wrote this from prison. He didn’t know if he was going to be set free or executed. He even debated a bit about which would be better, to go home to the LORD or to stay for the church here. He concluded that whatever happens, his readers should conduct themselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.

“Whatever happens ….” As a minister of the gospel of Christ, as a pastor of a church, someone whom God calls “servant,” I need to be constantly aware of how I handle the gospel of Christ.

I’ve just spent days in the Gospel accounts of Gethsemane studying the prayer of Jesus to His Father on the night of His betrayal. It was an intense, holy, prayer flowing deep from the heart of our LORD as He contemplated the enormity of what “being about His Father’s work” would encompass. As I seek God for the Resurrection Sunday message, I must make sure that what I speak honors that.

I wrestle with developing a message directed to visitors that won’t offend them but will invite them back … that’s what most of the offers from church resource groups have encouraged me to do. I do want visitors to feel welcomed and loved by us, but I struggle with forming messages for visitors rather than the people who have been faithful to God all year long.

“Whatever happens …” I must conduct myself on Resurrection Sunday (and every Sunday) in a manner worthy of Christ’s Good News (even if that means visitors don’t come back.)  We all must be faithful to honor the Gospel of Christ. Everything we do must be as worthy of Jesus’ sacrifice as we are able to make it so.

Luke 22:42:  “Father…not my will, but yours be done.”

We come to the final part of Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane.  Surrender.

Jesus had laid it all out before His Father in abject humility. He had suffered intensely as He considered what His Father was asking Him to do – drink the cup of wrath for the punishment of the sins of all the world. He knew His death would not be an easy, quiet, peaceful one.

His death would incorporate the rejection of His own people, the abandonment of those closest to Him, torture, the degradation of spittle and mockery. He would be crucified by Roman soldiers who cared nothing about Him – to them He was just a job to get done.

Then for hours He would hang naked, bleeding, fighting for air on a rough wooden cross. And before He would relinquish His life there, He would sense the mysterious, fearful, ugly separation from His Father.

In the Garden, before any of that took place, He surrendered His will and His life to the Father’s will.  “Not what I want,” He said to His Father, “but what You want.”

Perhaps that must be the final part in all our prayers.  Not what I want, LORD, but what You want.  Amen.

Luke 22:43-44: “An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.”

I cannot even imagine the intensity and mental pressure arising from my LORD’s struggle in Gethsemane. How tremendous was the weight of the sin and punishment in that cup of wrath that was set before Him that He sweated drops of blood? The agony of Christ simply poured out onto the ground. Jesus could not even have continued in His prayer if an angel from heaven had not been sent by His Father to strengthen Him.

As I read those two verses I am touched deep in my soul. Words cannot even describe how I feel. When I consider that my Savior, God’s Son, endured all this for me, I can barely breathe.

How often have my thoughts of the cross been simply routine. The story has become so familiar that I sometimes glibly recount it. It ceases to make me pause, gasp, and fall to my knees.

I know I am saved. I know I have been adopted into the Father’s house, a child of God. I know all my sins are forgiven. I know God has promised me good things. I know heaven is mine. I know … I know.  But do I really know what all this cost my LORD?

Father forgive me for taking Your Son’s sacrifice lightly. Forgive me for my complacency and disrespect. Help me to truly know the cost of my salvation. Amen.

“’Abba, Father,’ he said, ‘everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me.’” [Mark 14:36]

I am awestruck by the honesty of this prayer. Jesus knew what was ahead of Him. Like any man, the trials and torture and crucifixion would have been a fearful experience, but the part that seems to have troubled Him the most was that “cup” of God’s wrath. He would have to drain that “cup” to its bitter dregs, taking upon Himself the sins of the world in their most horrendous punishment … and in the process experiencing a separation from His Father. How that all transpired cannot even be understood by us, it is a mystery that we may never be able to unravel.

Knowing all this, Jesus was honest with His Father. “Father, You can do anything and everything, is there is any other way that salvation can be accomplished apart from my drinking this cup of degradation and wrath?”

The writer of Hebrews tells us to “fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” [12:2]

“…who for the joy set before him endured the cross.”  That joy was the open door of salvation He would accomplish for us. But understand, there was no joy that night in Gethsemane. This was an hour of darkness and agony. It was a time of honest intercession … “take this cup from me.”

Let’s be authentic in our approach to God and in our pleas. God is not impressed by our pretense that we have it all together, but He will respond to us in our honesty and in our desperation.

Jesus took His disciples with Him to Gethsemane that night.  He left most of them in one place and took the three closest to Him, Peter, James and John farther. Then He went a stone’s throw away from them. They could see He was in agony, down on His face in the dirt. They could hear His cries. Their contribution in all this, however, was to fall asleep. I can’t really blame them. They’d consumed a meal prior to going and it was nighttime after all.

Jesus came back and woke them and then returned to pray. He came back a second time, woke them again, and urged them to pray that they would not fall into temptation. Then Matthew tells us, “So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.” [26:44]

Jesus persevered in prayer.  Three times He sought His Father. Three times He said the same thing. He wasn’t going to give up until the matter was settled one way or another.  He was determined to hear His Father’s response.

I often wonder how determined I am in prayer.  Do I pray until the matter is settled … until I hear God say yes, no, or not now? Or do I just tell God what I think He needs to hear and how I think He needs to act, and then disappear.

It was a year ago that I began to pray for the “Presence of Christ” to manifest in our church and our community. I am still praying. I intend to persevere in that plea for the “Presence” until God says, “Yes, I’m here now,” or until He tells me to stop. I must follow my LORD’s example and persevere, even to saying the same thing(!) each time.

“Even so, come LORD JESUS. Amen”

I have always been intrigued by Jesus prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. There we see Him at His lowest moment. There we see Him seeking His Father, all too aware of what is just ahead for Him. And it is there we see His will set for the suffering He will face. When Jesus leaves the Garden, there is no wavering. Through each trial, through every torture, through the hours on the cross, Jesus is in control. He answers His accusers when He chooses to do so. He forgives. He takes care of His mother. And when “it is finished,” He relinquishes His Spirit to His Father. This all was settled in the Garden.

One of the most precious moments in Jesus’ prayer is found Mark 14:36:  “Abba, Father,” he said.

“Abba Father.”  Jesus’ prayer was a prayer grounded in relationship. He was His Father’s Son and that night in His deepest distress, He did what He always did, He went to His Father in prayer. This was not the first time. The Gospels are full of references to Jesus praying in the night or early morning hours. His relationship with His Father was strong and vital and consistent.

What the Son had in His relationship with the Father can be ours too. Because of His sacrifice, we have been granted adoption into the Father’s family. This is a binding pledge by the Father to His children, granting them the full rights of sonship.  We forfeited our right as God’s creation when mankind fell, but nothing can now take way our rights as sons and daughters to the Father’s love and protection.  Jesus’ cry is now our cry also.

“Abba Father, hear my cry.”

I am spending time in the Garden of Gethsemane with Jesus this week.  I want to learn from the way He prayed that night before His arrest.

Yesterday, I learned that His prayer was a solitary one. It was also a humble prayer.  After leaving His disciples, Matthew tells us, “He went a little farther and fell on His face and prayed.” [Matt 26:39 NKJV]

I’ve often seen that painting of Jesus praying in the Garden, hands folded sweetly, light pouring from the heavens, serenity on His face, kneeling by a rock.  Nice picture, but that’s not what I read in Scripture. There was nothing sweet nor serene about this prayer. His posture was one of abject humility. He literally “fell on His face” on the ground.

Jesus was in agony. He was sorrowful enough that He thought that sorrow alone might kill Him. He fell to the ground, face buried in the dirt.  Here was the Son of God coming to His Father in poverty of spirit. This was no “name it and claim it” attitude—even though no one had a greater right to such.

Sometimes all we can do is fall on our face before God. Sometimes all we should do is fall on our face before God!  But, whatever our physical posture, our heart’s posture must always be one of humility.  We are approaching the Great God, the Awesome God who dwells in unapproachable light.  [1 Timothy 6:16]

I want to spend some time in the Garden with Jesus … oh, not that proverbial rose garden full of loveliness and peace, but the Garden of Gethsemane full of loneliness and struggle. I want to learn how to pray from the way Jesus prayed.

The first thing I noticed was that while Jesus took His disciples with Him, His prayer was a solitary one.  “Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and said to the disciples, ‘Sit here while I go and pray over there.’ And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and He began to be sorrowful and deeply distressed. Then He said to them, ‘My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with Me.’ He went a little farther and fell on His face and prayed.”  [Matt 26:36-39 NKJV]

He told most of His followers to stay in a certain place, and took the closest three, Peter, James and John, a little farther with Him.  Then He left the three and proceeded even farther away. Jesus’ prayer was a solitary one.

There is room in our lives for corporate prayer, of course.  It is a good thing to pray with others, family, friends, or in a corporate setting.  There is power in that type of prayer where two or three are gathered, but in the times of intense pain and trouble, going into our prayer “closet” where no ear hears but God’s is best.

I often spend time in private, personal prayer before I pray with others. There I pour my deepest desires and most intense pain out before my LORD. I can be completely transparent and honest. Most times I say little, my words are few. I don’t need to tell God what He already knows. I just need to be with Him.

Solitary prayer.

There are three Gospel accounts of Jesus praying in Gethsemane the night of His arrest.  You can find the accounts in Matthew 26, Mark 14, and Luke 22.  Each Gospel writer gives essentially the same view of the event, but also adds a few details that they found striking.

I have always been fascinated by Jesus’ time of prayer in Gethsemane. It was there He set His soul, His will for what was to follow with His arrest, torture, trial, crucifixion and death. I believe it was in Gethsemane that His sufferings became vividly real. He told His disciples, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death.” [Matt 26:38 NKJV]

I am sure each of us have had times where we might describe our experiences as overwhelmed by sorrow. I am also sure some of have had experiences where we simply felt we might die if something didn’t change.  But I am not sure any of us can truly understand what Jesus experienced there. He was about to take on the bitter weight of the punishment of the sins of the world and being separated from His Father for the first time in eternity.

As a young boy, Jesus realized that God had a special task for Him to accomplish. He told His mother when she found Him sitting among the scholars in the Temple that “I must be about my Father’s work.” [Luke 2:41-50]

That was more than likely a beginning revelation that grew and became more intense. Now in Gethsemane it had reached its fullness. Jesus understood what was just ahead, and it was enough to cause Him to think He might die right there in the garden. So, He prayed.

His prayer speaks to us about how we too should pray. Let’s spend a few days in Gethsemane with our LORD.

I’ve been reading Francis Chan’s “Letters to the Church” for our Wednesday night Bible Study.  He made a comment in the opening chapter (The Departure, page 25, David C. Cook publishing) that “this is a very difficult time to lead.  I have been in leadership positions for over thirty years. There has never been a time like this.”

I would agree. This is a difficult time, but we must remember that the church has always existed in difficult times. As I prepare for Resurrection Sunday, I am going through the Gospel accounts of the events leading up to the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ Jesus.  John relates Jesus’ warning to them.

“…a time is coming, and has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home. You will leave me all alone. Yet I am not alone, for my Father is with me. I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”  [John 16:32-33]

Not long after this His disciples did scatter. It appears that only John and Peter followed Jesus during His arrest, and that only John was present at the cross.  And it was not long after Jesus ascended into heaven in Acts 1 that trouble arose for the disciples also.  Probably no truer statement has been written for the Bride of Christ than, “in this world you will have trouble.”  

Yes, down through the ages the Bride of Christ has seen her share of trouble, trouble that arose from both inside and outside; and yet, no truer statement has also been written for the Bride of Christ than, “But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Beloved. Trouble may ours as Christians, but courage is also ours because our LORD and Savior has overcome all!