Herman Melville’s novel, Moby-Dick, tells the story of Captain Ahab and his obsession with a giant whale. On the first encounter between Ahab and the giant whale, the whale had destroyed Ahab’s boat and bitten off his leg. And far from Ahab merely accepting this as his lot in life and moving on, he made it his mission in life to seek revenge on the whale and destroy him. But this obsession with revenge ended up costing him everything so that he ultimately destroyed the lives of most of his crew, filled his heart with anger and hatred, and lost his own life.
And as much as we know that Melville’s novel is fiction, I think we also know that the realities pictured within the novel are not. The lot of many in this life is torturous, making the loss of a leg seem miniscule in comparison. So too, many allow the tragedies faced in life to bring them to a point of bitterness, hatred, and rebellion against God. Numerous are the stories of those for whom Christianity is something in their distant past, something they have walked away from after walking through great difficulty and wondering where God was or why he was allowing life to unfold as it was.
Nor are such tragedies simply for unbelievers to face. Just this week, I read two reports from two different believers concerning great tragedy they’re facing. One of them has been told that her son may likely never move beyond a state of minimal consciousness, and the other is unable to be given any assurance that his wife will ever be able to interact with him again as they once did.
And while perhaps only a handful in this room can sympathize with such tragedy, there is one who can sympathize with great suffering. The author of Hebrews tells us that in Jesus “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb 4:15). We have a savior who walked through the darkness and honored his Father every single step of the way. We have redeemer who “in the days of his flesh . . . offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and . . . was heard because of his reverence” (Heb 5:7). And this morning, we look at the darkest period of his life – indeed the darkest period in history – as we look at Mark 14. And as we consider this chapter, I pray that we will be moved to treasure more fervently in our hearts that reality which moved a hymn-writer to write, after losing his family, “Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, ‘It is well. It is well with my soul.’”
Mark 14 is a long chapter, stretching over seventy-two verses, and it is appropriate that all of the events of this period in Jesus’ life are contained in one chapter. If you read the gospel of Mark, committing to read one chapter in a setting, this chapter will leave you sitting in your chair for a while. It seems to go on and on and on, and it doesn’t just go on, but it feels like the darkness of these events recorded in this chapter grows darker and darker by the second. Just when you don’t think matters could get more challenging, they do. Yet there is another element alongside the darkness that weaves its way through these verses as well. And this morning, I want us to see both of these elements in the text and then consider how both of these can exist together in these events. First, let’s look at
The thread of abandonment, agony, and sorrow faced by Jesus runs through this text. The chapter begins with Mark telling us that the chief priests and scribes were looking for a way to arrest Jesus and kill him. The problem was, they didn’t want to do it during the celebration of the Passover and the Feast of Unleavened Bread, convinced that it would bring an uproar from the people (vv. 1-2). So, it looked like their sinister plan was shut down, that is, until Jesus’ own went to them. We read in verses 10-11, “Then Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve, went to the chief priests in order to betray him to them. And when they heard it, they were glad and promised to give him money. And he sought an opportunity to betray him.”
The words “And when they heard it, they were glad” have probably never been used to describe so terrible a setting. And consider who these men are. They were to be servants of God, leading Israel to worship the Lord. Yet here they are, seeking the death of God’s Son.
The darkness of these days is settling in. One of Jesus’ own has made a deal to betray him. And if that’s not enough, Jesus is aware of this. He will continue to walk alongside his betrayer for a little while more. After setting up the Passover meal with the disciples, Jesus stopped in the middle of the meal to let them know that he knows what will take place. We read, “And as they were reclining at table and eating, Jesus said, ‘Truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me, one who is eating with me,’” and after each asked if it was he, Jesus added, “It is one of the twelve, one who is dipping bread into the dish with me” (vv. 18, 20).
Again, Jesus must walk alongside of one of his own, one whom he knows will betray him. But, we might think, at least he has the other eleven. I mean, Jesus does say only one will betray him. And yet just as we might encourage ourselves with that thought, we learn in verses 26-31 that all the disciples will abandon him. We read in these verses, “And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. And Jesus said to them, ‘You will all fall away, for it is written, “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.” But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee’” (vv. 26-28).
They’re all going to betray him. But we might suppose Peter to be an exception. After all, he doesn’t seem to be lacking in boldness or courage. And, we find that Peter thinks this same way. Peter said to him, “Even though they all fall away, I will not” (v. 29). This is the kind of statement that makes you wonder what conversations between the apostles were like after these events.
But Peter is wrong. Mark continues, “And Jesus said to him, ‘Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.’ But he said emphatically, ‘If I must die with you, I will not deny you.’ And they all said the same” (vv. 30-31).
The religious leaders of the day are plotting to kill Jesus. Just when they think they’ve run into a dead end with their plans, one of Jesus’ own, Judas, agrees to betray him. And Jesus has to walk and live and carry on with the weight of this knowledge. Moreover, he knows not only that Judas will betray him but that in that moment all of his disciples will abandonment, even Judas. It appears the darkness could not get any darker – yet it does!
In the midst of all of this, at least we can know that he knows the Father’s face is shining on him. That is, though all around him will abandon him and turn against him, he need not worry with any kind of abandonment with God. Yet consider the next seen in verses 32-42. We are told that Jesus began to be “greatly distressed and troubled” (v. 33). He even declares, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death” (v. 34), which is best understood as Jesus saying that his sorrow is so deep, it’s almost killing him.
Perhaps we think of Jesus walking through difficult times with the difficulty deflecting off of him like bullets might deflect off Superman, but that is not what we find in the Scriptures. Have you ever been so sorrowful that you thought it was going to kill you? Jesus has.
But why? What causes this kind of sorrow for Jesus? You could suggest that it’s the weight of knowing all his friends are betraying or abandoning him, but I think it’s actually what follows. As Jesus goes into the garden to pray, he says, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will” (v. 36).
What exactly is Jesus praying about here? Well, it seems that by acknowledging that all things are possible for God, and then asking if his Father will remove the cup, Jesus is acknowledging that in one sense, his Father can do anything. All things are possible for God. But on the other hand, it is impossible for God to act against his perfect character. So, we rightly say that it is impossible for God to sin. Thus, it seems that Jesus is asking if it’s in accord with God’s righteous character to do anything but have Jesus drink this cup that he’s about to drink. Jesus is asking if it’s possible to let the cup pass from him.
But what is this “cup?” Well, if we read through the Old Testament, we find that the cup represents God’s wrath again and again. Therefore, what Jesus is dealing with in the Garden is the reality that going to the cross is not only going to mean a terrible death – though it will mean no less. It will mean that he will bear the wrath of his Father. The wrath and condemnation that should fall to sinners was about to be poured out on Jesus as their substitute. And the thought of this was crushing, producing sorrow to the point that he felt as if it would kill him.
And again, while we might feel it could get no worse, the ones whom Jesus has told how sorrowful he is are napping as he’s agonizing in prayer. Then, sure enough, as Judas shows up, kisses him, and Jesus is about to be arrested, all the disciples abandon him. There is even a young man (probably Mark himself) who is more willing to run away naked after they grab his linen cloth than to stay.
If all of this is not enough, Mark tells us that many bore false testimony against Jesus, trying to get him a death sentence. Then, while Jesus professes under oath that he is indeed the Son of Man and the chief priest accuses him of blasphemy while others spit on him, strike him, and mock him, Peter is out in the courtyard, denying multiple times that he had any association with Jesus. This indeed is the one of the darkest moments in history.
Mark allows us to feel the darkness growing ever darker. He doesn’t hold back. He doesn’t put a happy face on it, suggesting it’s not that bad. This is indeed one of the nights in which Jesus offered loud cries and tears in prayer, as the author of Hebrews records. And it’s instructive for us, isn’t it? I mean, we too face darkness. We too face abandonment. Some of us this morning may be faced with such anxiety about our jobs or children or future that it’s physically causing us to feel sick. Some of us may be feeling sorrow that is so deep that you don’t need an explanation of Jesus’ declaration that his sorrow is killing him. You know exactly what it means. You’re living it. Indeed, it is not out of place in the Christian life but normal Christian experience to face suffering and sorrow and darkness that is so deep and agonizing that you feel it is going to kill you.
And in the midst of that, as you offer up loud cries and tears to God, you can know that you’re experiencing what Paul called the “fellowship of his suffering.” There may be no one else that knows the depths of your sorrow. But he does. And you can also know that your Father hears you. The author of Hebrews tells us that as Jesus offered up loud cries and tears to his Father, “He was heard.” He was heard. Yes he went on to face God’s wrath for us, but God heard his Son. Yes, he went on to walk through the darkness, but God heard him. And on that Sunday morning it was clear for all the world to see that God heard him. The Sanhedrin may have declared him worthy of death, but on that Sunday morning, God overturned their verdict and declared that he is indeed the righteous Son.
He was heard. And Paul tells us in Galatians 4 that the Father has sent the Spirit into our hearts so that we might cry out to him, “Abba, Father,” no doubt a connection to the manner in which Jesus cried out here in Mark 14. God wants you to cry out to him in the midst of darkness that will not let up, “Abba, Father,” and as he heard his Son, he will hear you. We can know that, even as we, like Jesus, walk through darkness so deep we almost cannot go on.
But there’s another thread in this chapter. We also see,
As shocking as the darkness is in this chapter, the degree to which Jesus demonstrates control and God’s plan is being carried out to a “T” is also shocking.
As much as Mark 14 feels like everything is spiraling out of control around Jesus, it also feels as if Jesus is a director of a play, dictating every second of the production. It is true that the scribes, chief priests, and Judas figure out a way to secretly arrest Jesus and kill him, but Jesus is completely aware of his coming death. In verses 3-9, when a woman showers him with expensive ointment, Jesus tells us that he is anointing his body beforehand for burial (v. 8). This is not a man whom death is sneaking up on.
Moreover, as he gets ready for the Passover meal, he instructs the disciples to go into a city, find a man carrying a jar of water, follow him, wherever he goes in ask for a guest room, the guy will show them the room, and it will be furnished for the feast. And though Mark doesn’t tell us whether Jesus prearranged this or just spoke from his divine knowledge, what matters is that Jesus is in control. Everything is taking place under his sovereign might.
Even when he predicts that one of his own will betray him and that all will abandon him, he is predicting these events. He knows what’s coming. He even tells Peter exactly how many times he’ll deny him and how many times the rooster will crow. And though he might have set up an arrangement with the man supplying the room for the feast, I’m pretty sure he didn’t pre-arrange this deal with the rooster. As Jesus controlled the sea in the midst of the storm, so he has complete control over his life. In fact, later, as the men are spitting on him and mocking him by telling him to prophesy, what Jesus in fact did prophesy (Peter’s denial) is happening at that very moment in the courtyard.
Moreover, it’s not simply that Jesus is in control, but we also see that God’s perfect plan is being fulfilled. Consider how many times Jesus notes that the Scripture is being fulfilled. After telling his disciples that they would fall away in verse 27, he adds, “For it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered,’” which is a reference to Zechariah 13:7. That is, even their abandonment was foretold in the Scriptures. But it doesn’t stop there.
When he prays in the Garden, he submits not to the will of evil men, but to the will of his Father. And when he is finally arrested and led off to be killed, he says in verse 49, “But let the Scriptures be fulfilled.”
But we also see this in more subtle ways. Consider for a second Jesus’ statement in verse 20. After telling the disciples that one of them will betray him, he says, “It is one of the twelve, one who is dipping bread into the dish with me.” And this is probably an allusion to Psalm 41:9, where David writes, “Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me.” Now, hold that for a second while we look at what Jesus does with the Passover meal.
In verses 22-25, Jesus takes the elements of the Passover meal and completely reinterprets it. Whereas they would typically take the unleavened bread, for example, and say that this represents how we had to leave Egypt quickly, and so on, Jesus takes the elements and says, “Take, this is my body” and “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.” What Jesus is saying is that he is the fulfillment of what this meal pointed to. Yes, it pictured what God has done on the night of the Passover, but even more perfectly it pictured what Jesus was going to do.
Now, consider those two realities for a second and the implications of each. If David’s action and his betrayal took place and was recorded in the Scripture in order to be fulfilled this night and if the events of the Passover in Israel’s history took place and were perfectly pictured in a meal that ultimately perfectly pictured the work of Christ, what this means is that God was working all of history (in the Exodus and in David’s life, for example) to the end that it might picture the work of his Son.
David was betrayed by close friend who shared his bread so that he might picture what Jesus would one day do for our redemption. Pharaoh kept saying, “No” to God’s demands to let Israel go so that the Lord might bring one final plague in which the blood of the lamb would be spread over the doorposts of the Israelites, their firstborn would be spared, and they’d be delivered from slavery in order that it might perfectly picture Christ’s death and resurrection.
Do you see, for thousands of years, God was intricately working in the minute details of history in order to craft a picture that was summed up in the life, death, and resurrection of his Son. Yes, there was darkness. Yes there was sorrow. But God’s plan was never ever in danger of being thwarted. He was working all of history to highlight the redeeming work of his Son.
And this is a helpful note for us as well. If amidst the this darkness of this tragic night God was carrying out his divine plan for his Son that was laid out before the foundation of the world, is there any doubt that in the midst of the darkness of our lives that God is perfectly carrying out his divine plan as well? Paul actually tells us that he is. He tells us that “for those who love God all things word together for good, for those called according to his purpose” (Rom 8:28). And it’s because before the foundation of the world, he had recorded our days. It’s because he knew us before we were born and predestined us to be conformed to the image of his Son. He prepared works for us to walk in. And nothing is going to thwart his plan of shaping us after his own Son.
So, even as in the midst of darkness, we know that we can cry out to God and be heard, so we can know that everything in our lives is working toward his divine plan and will result in our good of being conformed to Christ’s image. It doesn’t mean we can always see it. Most times we can’t. It doesn’t mean that our sorrow is any less real. It is most certainly real, as Jesus’ was so deep it was killing him. But it does mean that we do not mourn as those who have no hope. Our sorrow, no matter how deep, is always a hopeful sorrow, for we trust our Lord’s promise to work all things to our good.
But there is one other note I want to make about this text. Really, it’s a question I want to try to answer, namely, how do we put these two threads together? That is, if Mark 14 records the darkest period of Jesus’ life where there was evil plotting, abandonment, and darkness all around and yet Jesus was in complete control, perfectly fulfilling God’s plan, then how can these two go together? How do we bridge these two realities that seem to be worlds apart? I think we bridge them that recognizing:
Jesus’ death as the hands of wicked men and his complete control of the events around him can be brought together only by recognizing that Jesus chose to die at the hands of wicked men. He willingly laid his life down. No one took it from him. Moreover, the reason he willingly did this is because he knew the answer in the Garden. He knew that there was no other way. It is not possible for God to act in accord with his perfect character and yet ignore sin and the punishment sinners deserve. If there is to be forgiveness, then justice must be meted out. And indeed it was, because when Jesus drank down the cup of God’s wrath on the cross, he drank down the wrath that was deserved by everyone who believes in him and knows forgiveness of sins. That is, we know forgiveness because he took our punishment.
So, every Sunday, when we come to the table and say that if you’re trusting in Christ, then your sins are forgiven, it is not a cheap statement. It is a costly reality. It is true. It sounds too good to be true, yet it is true. But it is only true that we are forgiven because Jesus did everything necessary to pay for our sins and bring us to a place of right standing before the Father.
Therefore, as we walk through darkness, not only can we cry out to God with loud cries and tears and know we are heard, and not only can we know that God is carrying out his divine plan in our lives (though it might cause us great sorrow), doing everything necessary to conform us to the image of his Son, but we can also know that whatever this life brings us, we have forgiveness of sins because Christ willingly did everything necessary for our salvation. Indeed, whatever our lot, Mark 14 has taught us to say, “It is well. It is well with my soul.” Therefore, let us delight in the grace and mercy of our Lord as we now come to the table. Amen.