May 25, 2025: Jesus Prays at Gethsemane Matthew 26:36-46 Rev. Dr. Rhonda Abbott Blevins
Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here
while I go over there and pray.” 37 He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee and
began to be grieved and agitated. 38 Then he said to them, “My soul is deeply grieved, even to
death; remain here, and stay awake with me.” 39 And going a little farther, he threw himself on
the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me, yet not what I
want but what you want.” 40 Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and he
said to Peter, “So, could you not stay awake with me one hour? 41 Stay awake and pray that
you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is
weak.” 42 Again he went away for the second time and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass
unless I drink it, your will be done.” 43 Again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes
were heavy. 44 So leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the
same words. 45 Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and
taking your rest? Now the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of
sinners. 46 Get up, let us be going. Look, my betrayer is at hand.”
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Today we are in week five of our “Windows of Faith” series in which we are discovering
insights about the life of Jesus as told in the stained-glass windows of our sanctuary.
Today our attention turns to the depiction of Jesus praying at Gethsemane in one of the
original, but newly restored windows. You may recall that this event took place on a
Thursday night, immediately after the last supper, and right before Jesus’ arrest. Jesus will
be crucified the next day. You can see that the artist captured the darkened sky, the
tormented expression on Jesus’ face, and three of the disciples (perhaps Peter, James and
John as mentioned specifically in Mark’s account) sound asleep in the background. Jesus is
on his knees, hands clasped on a rock before which he’s kneeling. It’s a beautiful, if
haunting, scene . . . a classic depiction of Jesus praying in Gethsemane.
I want to point out that we don’t know exactly what position Jesus was in as he prayed, his
sweat was like great drops of blood as Luke describes the scene. This story is told in the
three synoptic Gospels: Matthew, Mark and Luke. In Luke, we are told that Jesus fell on his
knees to pray (as is depicted in our stained-glass window). Mark simply says that Jesus fell
on the ground to pray. But in Matthew’s Gospel, the closest translation to the original Greek
says that Jesus fell on his face to pray. What’s consistent with the three testimonies is that
Jesus fell, in some way, to the ground to pray.
There’s a story about three preachers who sat arguing about the best position for prayer
while a telephone repairman worked nearby. “Kneeling is definitely best,” claimed one.
“No,” another contended. “I get the best results standing with my hands outstretched to
heaven.” “You’re both wrong,” the third insisted. “The most effective prayer position is lying
prostrate, face down on the floor.” The repairman could contain himself no longer. “Hey,
fellas,” he interrupted, “the best prayin’ I ever did was hangin’ upside down from a
telephone pole.”
I think the telephone guy was on to something!
When we consider the story of Jesus praying at Gethsemane right before his arrest, his
phony trial, and his execution, it isn’t the position in which he was praying that is important
for us to consider. There are at least two aspects of this story that are important, and
incredibly relevant to us today.
First, it’s important for us to consider how the disciples struggled with prayer.
In all three of the synoptic Gospels, we’re told that Jesus asked the disciples to stay awake
and to pray. And in all three synoptic Gospels, they couldn’t do it. They fell asleep.
This gives me some comfort, because, like the disciples, I have often struggled with prayer,
particularly when I was a much younger Christian. There seem to be some Christians for
whom prayer is their superpower. I’ve never felt that was true for me. Perhaps you’ve felt
the same way.
The way I was taught to pray as a young person always involved words, either spoken
aloud or formed mentally. These words were then lifted, sent upwards to heaven as if on a
carrier pigeon. And the prayers were usually little more that a wish list. “Give me such and
such. Help so and so.” And when the answers to my prayers weren’t to my liking, I would
question the merits of praying, or worse yet, wonder if there was even a God at all.
Then I would show up to my Southern Baptist Sunday school class the next week and I’d be
handed a slip of paper to report on what kind of Christian I’d been the week prior. I’d have
to report how many times I’d read my Bible during the week, as well as if I’d said my daily
prayers.
Given my struggles with prayer, I rarely prayed daily. Then, because I wanted to be thought
of as a “good Christian,” I’d be caught in a temptation to lie about how often I’d prayed. My
young journey with prayer was quite fraught!
So I took solace in this story of the disciples and their struggle to stay awake and pray with
Jesus. “St. Peter struggled with prayer, so maybe I’m not so terrible after all.”
I’m not sure when my relationship with prayer began to shift. But I remember that one
particular verse of scripture made me rethink both my understanding of prayer and my
relationship with prayer:
“Pray without ceasing.” —1 Thessalonians 5:17
Now, given my understanding at that time that prayer necessitated formulating a bunch of
words, either spoken or unspoken, I wondered how praying without ceasing was possible.
A person has to sleep after all!
Then I read something by Oswald Chambers in his classic devotional book My Utmost for
His Highest. Chambers wrote about having a friendship with God . . . being in such lock-step
union with God’s will that words are no longer necessary.
Perhaps the most transformative book I read about prayer was The Practice of the Presence
of God by Brother Lawrence written in the late 17 th Century. The Practice of the Presence of
God suggests that we can maintain constant communion with God through simple,
continuous awareness of God’s presence during ordinary, daily activities. Brother
Lawrence had kitchen duty at the monastery where he lived. His prayer time was not
limited to his prayer closet or worship with the brothers at the monastery. He practiced the
presence of God while chopping broccoli or peeling a potato, putting water on the stove or
washing dishes. Brother Lawrence advocated for turning every moment into prayer by
cultivating an inner conversation with God, making no distinction between formal worship
and ordinary life.
“Aha!” I thought to myself. “That’s how you pray without ceasing.”
In my personal prayer life these days, I rarely formulate words. My emotions, like feeling
empathy for another’s suffering or my pride at an accomplishment by one of my kids, my
emotions are held before God as a prayer. Sometimes my prayers will be simple imagery,
like light surrounding someone who needs healing or a dove alighting on someone who
needs peace. To be very clear, when practicing the presence of God, every loving thought is
a prayer.
I’ve heard it said that prayer is the voice of the soul. Prayer is friendship with the Divine.
Sometimes friends talk. But talking all day every day is not necessary for friendship, in fact,
it would be exhausting!
So where did the disciples go wrong that night in Gethsemane?
Jesus was in great distress; his disciples knew this. He asked them to stay awake with him.
Now, when your dear friend is in distress, wouldn’t you move heaven and earth to
accommodate their request? When our loved ones and friends are in distress, we show up.
That’s what friends do. The disciples didn’t “show up” for Jesus. They let him down. Jesus
needed them to stay awake and pray with him. They could not deliver.
How about you? Have you ever felt let down, abandoned, by the people in your life? If so,
Jesus gets it.
The second extremely relevant insight we can remember about Jesus praying in
Gethsemane is what Jesus was praying for.
In all three synoptic Gospels, we read about Jesus begging, pleading with God, “My Father, if
it is possible, let this cup pass from me, yet not what I want but what you want.”
As we reflect on this raw, vulnerable prayer that Jesus prayed in Gethsemane, we are
reminded of Jesus’ humanity at odds with his Divine nature. You can almost hear him going
back and forth:
“Take this cup from me” then “not my will but Thine be done” back to “take this cup from
me” then again to “not my will but Thine be done.” The internal battle is palpable in this
story. Desperately not wanting to go through the suffering ahead of him, but fully aware
that this suffering is necessary to accomplish God’s plan.
Father Richard Rohr teaches us about the concept of “necessary suffering”—the idea that
suffering often serves a transformative purpose in our spiritual journey. Unlike the
unnecessary suffering we create through our resistance, ego, and attachments, necessary
suffering is the kind that breaks us open to grace and deeper truth. Rohr suggests that this
necessary suffering often comes in the form of great love that doesn’t work out the way we
want, losing what we thought we needed, or facing our own limitations and mortality.
Like Jesus in Gethsemane, we may initially resist this suffering, but when we learn to say,
“not my will but Thine,” we discover that our pain can become the very pathway through
which God transforms us. This doesn’t mean we should seek out suffering or that all pain is
redemptive, but rather that when we cannot avoid certain difficulties in life, we can choose
to let them deepen our compassion, humility, and trust in God’s mysterious love.
What we must remember, when God does not take the cup of suffering from us, is God’s
promise: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” —Hebrews 13:5
Pope Francis once wrote, “God’s answer to our pain is a closeness, a presence that
accompanies us, that never leaves us alone.” I believe he was right.
How about you? Have you ever prayed that God would take the cup of suffering from you?
If so, Jesus gets it.
This window, of Jesus praying in Gethsemane, perhaps more that all the other stained-glass
windows in our beautiful church, reminds us that Jesus gets it. Jesus gets us.
Jesus gets it with we feel let down, abandoned, by the people in your life.
Jesus gets it when we feel desperate for God to take the cup of suffering from us.
Jesus gets it; Jesus gets us.
That’s what’s so powerful and so unique about the Christian faith. We do not have a God
immune to our pain and suffering. No, we have a God who knows exactly what it feels like
to be abandoned by our friends and experience extreme physical and emotional pain.
The author of Hebrews understood this deep truth when he or she wrote these words:
Hebrews 2:18: “Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help
those who are being tested.”
Hebrews 4:15: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with
our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are,
yet without sin.”
So my dear friends, every time you step foot in this sanctuary, and you see the image of
Jesus praying in Gethsemane, remember this: Jesus gets it; Jesus gets you. He understands
your pain and your suffering because he, too, has suffered.
Thanks be to God for our “suffering Savior,” who shares in our humanity with us. May we
show up for him in this world, even as he continues to show up for us.