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Sermons at St. John’s Presbyterian Church Take This Cup from Me Transcribed from the sermon preached March 16, 2008 St. John’s Presbyterian Church 2727 College Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94705 Telephone 510-845-6830 Fax 510-845-6837 office@stjohns.presbychurch.net http://www.stjohns.presbychurch.net A Redaction of the
pathetic and powerful prayer of Jesus in the Garden I have always been
fascinated by the prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. What would Jesus be praying at this moment? For these hours? Like Solomon (I Kings 1:33) coming to be
anointed king in David’s place, Jesus has triumphantly entered Jerusalem riding
on a donkey. While clearly not on a
warhorse, like a Roman General or King, any semblance of political popularity,
especially with followers making reference to the “savior” and “king” would be
viewed as a threat. Passover itself was a threat as it symbolized God's
liberation of the Israelites from their oppressors. Riots and uprisings were
common and so was Roman brutality and suppression. Besides all that Jesus had
just overturned the tables of the moneychangers in the temple courtyard. It is not hard to
see where this story will end, even in those triumphal moments entering Jerusalem. For they are not all that triumphal. Relative to the power of Rome, he might as
well be a small child on a wooden model of a donkey being carried by four
average citizens. For all practical
purposes, this is not his city; this is not his world. Does he really know what he is doing? Does God really know what He is doing? Jesus
knows he is about to be arrested. The garden is the last stop, the last chance
to change course, to find a better way, or at least a way to go on living, or
so it would seem. Father, if it be
your will, take this cup from me. Am I
not too small, too small to matter?
What are a few folks cheering on a ride to Jerusalem compared to Rome? Why should I be called to live this
life? Why not pick someone more
significant, someone with a greater position?
Even if I do this, go to my death, will I not be just one more who is
wiped off the map into obscurity? The
sin and injustice will go on. The ruling elite here in Jerusalem will go on,
Rome will go on, Caiphus, and Herod and Pilate and Caesar will go on. Others were crucified before me and others
will be crucified after me. Will
anything change if some little insignificant guy decides to be brave and stand
for love and justice? Wouldn’t it be
better to gain some power before I take a stand? Yes, maybe power is
the way; maybe I should become powerful.
Certainly the devil had a point in the wilderness. Make your way to a position of power and
then take a stand, and then what I had to say would have an impact. Then people would believe and follow. I could leave, escape this town, escape this
death, and come back to feed, or heal, or fight another day. To speak of
fighting, what so called king has no army, no chariots, no swords or
spears? Even King David had his
chariots and henchmen. Would you not be
better served by helping me build a real empire? “Pick your battles”
people say. How careful our steps have been, but maybe I am wrong? We all know
where this is going: to a cross. Why
not wait for a better time, a more important battle? I could go out into the mountains and gather more disciples, more
dissidents, strategize and plot for just the right time, when we actually had a
chance to change things, to have success. And certainly not
all compromise is bad. How does anyone
accomplish anything without compromise?
If I came to a compromise with the rulers, I might even be able to get a
position in the administration or the priesthood. Then maybe I could really have an impact. Then again, why even
waste my time with this world, with this place, this temple, these rulers,
Rome, these people? Why stain myself
with all their sin? Why not just go
with my disciples and head out of town, to a wonderful wilderness retreat,
where we could commune with you my Holy Father, with each other, with brother
sun and sister moon? There, at least,
we could worship in spirit and in truth.
Then people who wanted to truly follow the Way could come and join us. We could leave the world to its own mess and
create our own separate Kingdom of God.
To Hell with the rest of them! Frankly, there is a
part of me that just doesn’t care that much about others. Why even be a leader at all? Why not just slip out of town and go my own
way. I could set up a carpenter shop in
some small town, find a good woman, make love and have babies…I could grow old
with my wife. We would drink good wine
and laugh as our grandchildren played with the toys I would make them. A wife?
I haven’t even made love to a woman!
How beautiful they are! And
Mary…I wish…how lonely I am, here in this garden, my so-called disciples
snoring in the distance. Me, the
insignificant fool, thinking I can make a difference by throwing my life away
before I have even lived. I should have
married and settled down long ago; then perhaps this night, I would be more
ready to die. But wait a
minute. Aren’t we skirting the bigger
issue? The question, why should I die,
dear God, dear Father, is really a question about you. Apparently God, it is you who have called me
into this mess. What a pathetic plan
for one who claims to be the One God, Creator of the Universe. If you are so powerful, why do you need
me? If you can make all things happen,
surely you can reconcile this world without me. Why did you let it get this bad in the first place? If you are so loving and all powerful, why
should people have to suffer so? If people are sinners, why have you let them?
If they need forgiveness, what do you need? Who is your judge? If I am your beloved
son, and you are so pleased with me, then certainly you could figure out a way
to change the world without me, or at least without my suffering and
death. Please God, if you
are God, if you are my Father, take this cup from me. Take this cup from me.
Take this cup from me. Take this
cup from me. Oh Jesus, take this cup
from me. … Your will be done, your will be done. Your
will be done! They will say that I have made a sacrifice, they will call me the
Lamb of God, and I suppose this rings true.
But a greater sacrifice would be to not follow your Way. They will take my life but I will not give
it away, I will not sell it cheaply to their way of living. That, to me, would be a greater death, a
living death, without honor or integrity, separated from you, my Father, my
God. Part of me doesn’t
know why you have given me this particular life to live, but it is my life and
you are my God. For better or worse
your reason is in my head, your passion in my heart. My blood is your blood.
My flesh is your flesh. And so,
I cannot help myself. As insignificant
as I may fear I am, as I may wish to be, a lamb in a world of wolves and lions,
to me dear Father, you are the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the End,
the first and the last. And so, in this
body, in this garden, on this night, I choose to move forward, to do your
will. For I know that your love is
eternal, and eternity encircles me in this garden tonight. In this moment, I am
free. I am alive. Thus to this night I come, and on this night
I will stand. “I have set my face like
flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame; for he who vindicates me is
near.” When is the time for righteousness if not
now? When is it time to speak out for
justice if not now? When is there time
to love if not now! When is there time
for peace if not now? Who will forgive
if not me?
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