Mark 14:26

Mar_14:26

And when they had sung an hymn.

The best harmony

Jesus sung an hymn, and when before was heard music so pleasing to God, so grand and beautiful to listening angels? We know not what harmonies from the power of sound the Creator produces for the ceaseless joy of His intelligent creatures who fill the vast amplitudes of the sky. We know not what sublime, and to us, inconceivable realities are expressed by those descriptions given by that apostle who leant on Jesuss bosom, and heard with prophetic ear the voice as of many waters, as of a great thunder, and the voices of harpers harping with their harps; but sure am I that there was a harmony and a glory in this hymn they never heard before. For the beauty of its harmony was moral; it was harmony from the inner spirit of man; it was harmony between man and Christ; it was the melody of meekness, of obedience, of peace and joy; it was like the music of law and order from those glittering stars of night beneath which they sung-such a harmony as the character of Christ forever sounds in the ears of God. (N. Macleod, D. D.)

Value of forms of prayer and praise

One of the commonest objections to the constant use of stated forms of common prayer is, that at times they must inevitably jar upon our feelings, compelling us, for example, to take words of joy and praise on our lips when our hearts are full of grief, or to utter penitent confessions of sin and imploring cries for mercy when our hearts are dancing with mirth and joy. But if we mark the conduct of our Lord and His disciples, we cannot say that even this objection is final or fatal. He and they were about to part. He was on His way to the agony of Gethsemane and the shame of the cross. Their hearts, despite His comforting words, were heavy with foreboding and grief. Yet they sang the Hallel, used the common form of praise, before they went out,-He to die for the sins of the world, and they to lose all hope in Him as the Saviour of Israel. No Divine command, nothing but the custom of the Feast, enjoined this form upon them; yet they do not cast it aside. And this hymn was no dirge, no slow and measured cadence, no plaintive lament, but a joyous song of exultation. Must not these tones of irrepressible hope, of joyous and exultant trust, have jarred on the hearts of men who were passing lute a great darkness in which all the lights of life and hope and joy were to be eclipsed? If our Lord could look through the darkness and see the joy set before Him, the disciples could not. Yet they too joined in this joyous hymn before they went out into the darkest night the world has ever known. With their example before us, we cannot fairly argue that settled forms of worship are to be condemned simply because they jar on the reigning emotion of the moment. We must rather infer that, in His wisdom, God will not leave us to be the prey of any unbalanced emotion; that, when our hearts are most fearful, He calls on us to put our trust in Him; that when they are saddest He reminds us that, if we have made Him our chief good, our chief good is still with us, whatever we may have lost, and that we may still rejoice in Him, though all other joy has departed from us. And when He bids us trust in Him in every night of loss and fear, and even to be glad in Him however sorrowful our souls may be,-O how comforting and welcome the command should be! for it is nothing less than an assurance that He sees the gain which is to spring from our loss; it is nothing short of a pledge that He will turn our sorrow into joy. (S. Cox, D. D.)

Place of forms in religion

Religion is a thing of principles, not of forms; spirit, not letter. It is a life, a life which reveals itself in various ways under all the changes of time, a life which consecrates every faculty we possess to the service of God and man. It uses forms, but is not dependent on them. It may modify them in a thousand different ways, to suit them to the wants, emotions, aspirations of the soul. There was a most true and sincere religious life, for example, among the Hebrews, and under the laws of Moses. Worship then took the form of offerings and sacrifices, fasts and feasts. All these, in so far as they were Hebrew, and were specially adapted to Hebrew life, have passed away; but the religious life has not passed with them. It has clothed itself in simpler and more universal forms. Our worship expresses itself in prayers, hymns, sacraments, and above all in the purity and charity which bids us visit the poor and needy in their affliction, and keep ourselves unspotted from the world. In due time, these forms may be modified or pass away. But the life which works and speaks through them will not pass away. It will simply rise into higher and nobler forms of expression. No man, therefore, can live and grow simply by adhering to forms of worship and service, let him be as faithful and devoted to them as he will. They may feed and nourish life, but they cannot impart it. They will change and pass, but the life of the soul need not therefore suffer loss. If that life has once been quickened in us through faith and love, it will and must live on, for it is an eternal life, and continue to manifest itself in modes that will change and rise to meet its new necessities and conditions. Religion accepts us as we are, that it may raise us above what we are; it employs and consecrates all our faculties, that our faculties may be refined, invigorated, enlarged in scope. If we can speak, it bids us speak. If we can sing, it bids us sing. If we can labour and endure, it bids us labour and endure. If we can only stand and wait, it teaches us that they also serve who only stand and wait. Whatever we can do, it bids us do heartily, as unto the Lord, and not unto men, and yet do for men, that it may be unto the Lord. If we really have this life, it will reveal itself in us as it did in Him who is our life-in a love too profound and sincere to be repelled by any diversities of outward form; in a spirit of praise too pure and joyous to be quenched by any of the changes and sorrows of time; and in an earnest consecration of our every capacity and power to the service of Him who loved us, and gave Himself for us, and for all. (S. Cox, D. D.)

Singing in heaven

For one I would not rid myself of the hope that we shall sometimes-perhaps on great anniversaries commemorative of earthly histories-literally sing, in heaven, the very psalms and hymns which are so often the gate of heaven to us here. It would be sadder parting with this world than we hope it will be when our time comes, if we must forget these ancient lyrics, or find our tongues dumb when we would utter them. How can we live without them? Are they not a part of out very being? Take them away, with all the experiences of which they are the symbol, and what would there be left of us to carry into heaven? (Prof. Austin Phelps.)

The Jewish Psalms

The Jewish Psalms, in which is expressed the very spirit of the national life, have furnished the bridal hymns, the battle songs, the pilgrim marches, the penitential prayers, and the public praises of every nation in Christendom, since Christendom was born. It is a sentence from the Jewish Psalm book, which we have written over the portico of the chief temple of the worlds industry and commerce, the London Exchange. These psalms have rolled through the din of every great European battlefield, they have pealed through the scream of the storm in every ocean highway of the earth. Drakes sailors sang them when they clove the virgin waves of the Pacific; Frobishers, when they dashed against the barriers of the Arctic ice and night. They floated over the waters on that day of days, when England held her Protestant freedom against Pope and Spaniard, and won the naval supremacy of the world. They crossed the ocean with the Mayflower pilgrims; they were sung around Cromwells camp fires, and his Ironsides charged to their music; while they have filled the peaceful homes of England and of Christendom with the voice of supplication and the breath of praise. In palace halls, by happy hearths, in squalid rooms, in pauper wards, in prison cells, in crowded sanctuaries, in lovely wildernesses, everywhere these Jews have uttered our moan of contrition and our song of triumph, our tearful complaints and our wrestling, conquering prayer. (J. Baldwin Brown, B. A.)

The love of singing sanctioned by Jesus

At a gathering of children one Christmas Day a gentleman present related the following very interesting incident: A little girl, only three years of age, was very curious to know why Christmas evergreens were so much used, and what they were intended to signify. So Mr. L-told her the story of the Babe of Bethlehem, the child whose name was Jesus. The little questioner was just beginning to give voice to the music that was in her heart; and after Mr. L-concluded the narrative, she looked up in his face and asked, Did Jesus sing? Who had ever thought of that? The text is almost conclusive proof that our Lord did sing; it is, at any rate, quite conclusive proof that He sanctioned the use of song on the part of His disciples.

Singing in prospect of death

Jerome, of Prague, bound naked to the stake, continued to sing hymns with a deep untrembling voice. (A. W. Atwood.)

Soothing influence of hymn singing

I remember a remarkable instance which occurred in my fathers lecture room during one of those sweet scenes which preceded the separation of the Presbyterian Church into the old and new schools. At that time controversy ran high, and there were fire and zeal and wrath mingled with discussion; and whoever sat in the chair, the devil presided. On the occasion to which I refer an old Scotchman, six feet high, much bent with age, with blue eyes, large features, very pale and white all over his face, and bald-headed, walked up and down the back part of the room, and as the dispute grew furious he (and only he could have done it) would stop and call out, Mr. Moderator, let us sing Salvation; and someone would strike up and sing the tune, and the men who were in angry debate were cut short; but one by one they joined in, and before they had sung the hymn through they were all calm and quiet. When they resumed the controversy, it was in a much lower key. So this good old man walked up and down, and threw a hymn into the quarrel every few minutes, and kept the religious antagonists from absolute explosion and fighting. It is the nature of hymns to quell irascible feeling. I do not think that a man who was mad could sing six verses through without regaining his temper before he got to the end. (H. W. Beecher.)

The power of a hymn

On one of the days that President Garfield lay dying at the seaside, he was a little better, and was permitted to sit by the window, while Mrs. Garfield was in the adjoining room. Love, hope, and gratitude filled her heart, and she sang the beautiful hymn, commencing, Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah! As the soft and plaintive notes floated into the sick chamber, the President turned his eyes up to Dr. Bliss and asked, Is that Crete? Yes. replied the Doctor; it is Mrs. Garfield. Quick, open the door a little, anxiously responded the sick man. Dr. Bliss opened the door, and after listening a few moments, Mr. Garfield exclaimed, as the large tears coursed down his sunken cheeks, Glorious, Bliss, isnt it?

The power of a hymn

A little boy came to one of our city missionaries, and holding out a dirty and well-worn bit of printed paper, said, Please, sir, father sent me to get a clean paper like this. Taking it from his hand, the missionary unfolded it, and found it was a paper containing the beautiful hymn beginning, Just as I am. The missionary looked down with interest into the face earnestly upturned to him, and asked the little boy where he got it, and why he wanted a clean one. We found it, sir, said he, in sisters pocket after she died; she used to sing it all the time when she was sick, and loved it so much that father wanted to get a clean one to put in a frame to hang it up. Wont you give us a clean one, sir?

The Biblical Illustrator, edited by Joseph S. Exell (c. 1880s–1900s) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

Mar 14:26-31. And they went out into the mount of Olives — At the conclusion of the supper; Jesus and his disciples sung a proper psalm, or song of praise, together, as was customary at the close of the passover, and then he set out for the mount of Olives, choosing to retire thither, that he might prevent a riot in Jerusalem, and bring no trouble upon the master of the house where he celebrated the passover. Jesus said, All ye shall be offended this night — See the notes on Mat 26:30-35. The Jews, in reckoning their days, began with the evening, according to the Mosaic computation, which denominated the evening and the morning the first day, Gen 1:5. And so, that which after sunset is here called this night, is, Mar 14:30, called this day, or, to-day, as σημερον should rather be translated. The expression there is peculiarly significant: Verily I say unto thee, that thou — Thyself, confident as thou art; to-day — Even within four and twenty hours; yea, this night — Before the sun be risen; nay, before the cock crow twice — Before three in the morning; wilt deny me thrice. Our Lord, doubtless, spake so determinately as knowing a cock would crow once before the usual time of cock-crowing. By Mar 13:35, it appears, that the third watch of the night, ending at three in the morning, was commonly styled the cock-crowing. Dr. Owen, in his Observations on the Four Gospels, p. 56, observes, that as the Jews, in the enumeration of the times of the night, took notice only of one cock- crowing, which comprehended the third watch, so Matthew, to give them a clear information that Peter would deny his Master before three in the morning, needed only to say, that he would do it before the cock crew; but the Romans, (for whom, and the other Gentiles, Mark wrote his gospel,) reckoning by a double crowing of the cock, the first of which was about midnight, and the second at three, stood in need of a more particular designation; and therefore Mark, to denote the same hour to them, was obliged to say, before the cock crew twice. Juvenal uses exactly the same phrase to specify the same hour. Sat. 1. ver. 107.

Joseph Benson's Commentary on the Old and New Testaments (1811–1818) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

GETHSEMANE

Mat 26:30-46; Mar 14:26-42; Luk 22:39-46;Joh 18:1. “Jesus speaking these things, went out with His disciples beyond the brook Kidron, where was a garden, into which He and His disciples went.” This is the Garden of Gethsemane, which means “oil- press,” as evidently it had some celebrity for the manufacture of olive-oil, corroborative of which the olive-trees there still abound. They look very venerable. Since the olive-tree ordinarily lives five hundred to a thousand years, there is a degree of plausibility in the tradition that the identical trees under which Jesus and His disciples frequently sat still survive, as several trunks from the same root are still green and flourishing, some looking old and others young, favoring the conclusion that as the old die, others grow up, thus perpetuating the tree from the same root. “Garden,” in the Old World, is: frequently synonymous with “park” in this country; e. g., “the Garden of Eden.”

Mat 26:30; Mat 26:36-37. “And having sung a hymn, they went out into the Mount of Olives. Then Jesus comes with them into a place called Gethsemane, and says to His disciples, Sit here, until, having gone, I shall pray yonder. And taking Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, He began to give way to sorrow and dejection.” You see how He compliments Peter, James, and John by taking them with Him to the exclusion of the rest. He did the same on the Mount of Transfiguration, and also at the resurrection of Jairus’s daughter — evidencing a deeper insight into spiritual things on the part of the apostolic trio. The unfallen humanity of Jesus, never callused by sin, is intensely emotional, feeling infinitely more acutely than we are likely to apprehend.

Luk 22:41-44. “And He departed from them about a stone’s cast, and putting down His knees, continued to pray, saying, Father, if this cup wishes to pass from Me.” This was spoken proleptically, implying a desire on the part of His humanity to retreat from the terrible ordeals of blood, insult, treason, abuse, and death which His Divinity saw in diabolical panorama moving before His eyes. “Moreover, not My will, but Thine be done.” Here you see He prefers the Divine will to his own human will, giving us an exceedingly profitable example. The human will of Jesus recoiled from the horrific tragedy coming to meet Him. So will ours under all circumstances. Hence we are to sink away into the Divine will, always keeping the human meekly acquiescent.

“And an angel appeared unto Him from heaven, strengthening Him.” While there was no retreat from the appalling and horrific maelstrom which opened its in hellish malice, yet the loving Father sends awful crisis. Hence you see the pertinency of prayer amid all of our temptations and trials; not that we will always be delivered from them, but that our Heavenly Father will send an angel to strengthen us, giving us the needed patience, resignation, forbearance, and perseverance adequate to the conflict. “And being in agony, He continued to pray the more fervently. And His perspiration was like drops of blood falling down upon the ground.” All efforts to explain this agony of His human soul are utterly vain. Millions of martyrs have gone singing to the burning stake, and shouted triumphantly amid the wreathing flames. Then why did Jesus agonize so intensely in contemplation of His martyrdom? You must remember that all comparison is really impertinent and utterly out of place as to any attempted exegesis, from the simple fact that none of the martyrs atoned for the sins of the world. The Divinity could neither suffer nor die, but only served as the altar on which the humanity was immolated to atone for the sins of a guilty world. Hence the innocent Man Jesus carried upon His spotless soul all the mountains of sin committed by the guilty; race in all ages, from Adam to the latest generation. Consequently, we are utterly incompetent to know or to realize the agony which He endured in the garden. There the battle was fought between the human and the Divine will, the latter triumphing. Gethsemane was the consecration and Calvary the sanctification. In the case of the latter, we see Him nailed to the cross, and pouring out His blood, and hear nothing of humanity’s recoil from the appalling tragedy, the battle having been fought and the victory won in Gethsemane. Hence the soul seeking sanctification must first pass the Gethsemane of consecration, where the human utterly and eternally submits to the Divine will. Then you are prepared cheerfully to let the Holy Ghost nail Adam the First to the cross, and let him bleed and die. The followers of Jesus must all pass through Gethsemane on their way to Calvary. This bloody sweat is unparalleled in all the history of human suffering, illustrative of the fact that the world has never seen but the one Savior, who actually carried upon His spotless soul all of its guilt and crime.

Mar 14:38-39. “And He comes and finds them sleeping, and says to Peter, Simon , do you sleep? Were you not able to watch with Me one hour? Watch and pray, lest ye may enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” They had been constantly on foot and their attention engaged so long that drowsiness and nervous relaxation proved irresistible. “And again having gone away; He prayed, speaking the same word. And returning, He found them again sleeping; for their eyes were heavy, and they knew not what they respond to Him.”

It is about midnight. The apostles were stout, muscular men who, in case of nervous collapse, found drowsiness irresistible. “He comes the third time, and says to them, Do you sleep on and take your rest. It is over: the hour has come; behold, the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Arise, let us be going; behold; the one having betrayed Me draweth nigh.” Jesus having seen all the maneuvers of His enemies, who, under the escort of Judas, have tracked them — making inquiry of the people on the streets

— from the upper room where they had taken the supper on Mount Zion, through the long way of the city to the east wall, and out across the Valley of Jehoshaphat and the brook Kidron to this garden, where Jesus had so often resorted with His disciples while Judas was with them, and who consequently kept His track, leading the mob, and also having seen all the hurry and bustle of His enemies, parading the temple guards and hiring the street rabble to accompany them, now, that they are coming right into the park, and knowing they are going to arrest Him, He commands the Eleven all to wake up, and goes to meet them.

William B. Godbey, Commentary on the New Testament (1896–1900) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

CHAPTER 14:26-31 (Mar_14:26-31)

THE WARNING

"And when they had sung a hymn, they went out into the mount of Olives. And Jesus saith unto them, All ye shall be offended: for it is written, I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered abroad. Howbeit, after I am raised up, I will go before you into Galilee. But Peter said unto Him, Although all shall be offended, yet will not I. And Jesus saith unto him, Verily I say unto thee, that thou today, even this night, before the cock crow twice, shalt deny me thrice. But he spake exceeding vehemently, If I must die with Thee, I will not deny Thee. And in like manner also said they all." Mar_14:26-31 (R.V.)

SOME uncertainty attaches to the position of Christ's warning to the Eleven in the narrative of the last evening. Was it given at the supper, or on Mount Olivet; or were there perhaps premonitory admonitions on His part, met by vows of faithfulness on theirs, which at last led Him to speak out so plainly, and elicited such vainglorious protestations, when they sat together in the night air?

What concerns us more is the revelation of a calm and beautiful nature, at every point in the narrative. Jesus knows and has declared that His life is now closing, and His blood already "being shed for many." But that does not prevent Him from joining with them in singing a hymn. It is the only time when we are told that our Savior sang, evidently because no other occasion needed mention; a warning to those who draw confident inferences from such facts as that "none ever said he smiled," or that there is no record of His having been sick. It would surprise such theorists to observe the number of biographies much longer than any of the Gospels, which also mention nothing of the kind.

The Psalms usually sung at the close of the feast are Psalm 115 and the three following. The first tells how the dead praise not the Lord, but we will praise Him from this time forth forever. The second proclaims that the Lord hath delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling. The third bids all the nations praise the Lord, for His merciful kindness is great and His truth endureth forever. And the fourth rejoices because, although all nations compassed me about, yet I shall not die, but live and declare the works of the Lord; and because the stone which the builders rejected is become the head stone of the corner. Memories of infinite sadness were awakened by the words which had so lately rung around His path: "Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.;" but His voice was strong to sing, "Bind the sacrifice with cords, even to the horns of the altar;" and it rose to the exultant close, "Thou art my God, and I will praise Thee: Thou art my God, I will exalt Thee. O give thanks unto the Lord for He is good, for His mercy endureth for ever."

This hymn, from the lips of the Perfect One, could be no "dying swan-song." It uplifted that more than heroic heart to the wonderful tranquillity which presently said, "When I am risen, I will go before you into Galilee." It is full of victory. And now they go unto the Mount of Olives.

Is it enough considered how much of the life of Jesus was passed in the open air? He preached on the hillside; He desired that a boat should be at His command upon the lake; He prayed upon the mountain; He was transfigured beside the snows of Hermon; He oft-times resorted to a garden which had not yet grown awful; He met His disciples on a Galilean mountain; and He finally ascended from the Mount of Olives. His unartificial normal life, a pattern to us, not as students but as men -- was spent by preference neither in the study nor the street.

In this crisis, most solemn and yet most calm, He leaves the crowded city into which all the tribes had gathered, and chooses for His last intercourse with His disciples, the slopes of the opposite hillside, while overhead is glowing, in all the still splendor of an Eastern sky, the full moon of Passover. Here then is the place for one more emphatic warning. Think how He loved them. As His mind reverts to the impending blow, and apprehends it in its most awful form, the very buffet of God Who Himself will smite the Shepherd, He remembers to warn His disciples of their weakness. We feel it to be gracious that He should think of them at such a time. But if we drew a little nearer, we should almost hear the beating of the most loving heart that ever broke. They were all He had. In them He had confided utterly. Even as the Father had loved Him He also had loved them, the firstfruits of the travail of His soul. He had ceased to call them servants and had called them friends. To them He had spoken those affecting words, "Ye are they which have continued with Me in My temptations." How intensely He clung to their sympathy, imperfect though it was, is best seen by His repeated appeals to it in the Agony. And He knew that they loved Him, that the spirit was willing, that they would weep and lament for Him, sorrowing with a sorrow which He hastened to add that He would turn into joy.

It is the preciousness of their fellowship which reminds Him how this, like all else, must fail Him. If there is blame in the words, "Ye shall be offended," this passes at once into exquisite sadness when He adds that He, Who so lately said, "Them that Thou gavest Me, I have guarded," should Himself be the cause of their offense, "All ye shall be caused to stumble because of Me." And there is an unfathomable tenderness, a marvelous allowance for their frailty in what follows. They were His sheep, and therefore as helpless, as little to be relied upon, as sheep when the shepherd is stricken. How natural it was for sheep to be scattered.

The world has no parallel for such a warning to comrades who are about to leave their leader, so faithful and yet so tender, so far from estrangement or reproach.

If it stood alone it would prove the Founder of the Church to be not only a great teacher, but a genuine Son of man.

For Himself, He does not share their weakness, nor apply to Himself the lesson of distrustfulness which He teaches them; He is of another nature from these trembling sheep, the Shepherd of Zechariah, "Who is My fellow, saith the Lord of Hosts." He does not shrink from applying to Himself this text, which awakens against Him the sword of God (Zec_13:7).

Looking now beyond the grave to the resurrection, and unestranged by their desertion, He resumes at once the old relation; for as the shepherd goeth before his sheep, and they follow him, so He will go before them into Galilee, to the familiar places far from the city where men hate Him.

This last touch of quiet human feeling completes an utterance too beautiful, too characteristic to be spurious, yet a prophecy, and one which attests the ancient predictions, and which involves an amazing claim.

At first sight it is surprising that the Eleven who were lately so conscious of weakness that each asked was he the traitor, should since have become too self-confident to profit by a solemn admonition. But a little examination shows the two statements to be quite consistent. They had wronged themselves by that suspicion, and never is self-reliance more boastful than when it is reassured after being shaken. The institution of the Sacrament had invested them with new privileges, and drawn them nearer than ever to their Master. Add to this the infinite tenderness of the last discourse in St. John, and the prayer which was for them and not for the world. How did their hearts burn within them as He said, "Holy Father, keep them in Thy name whom Thou hast given Me." How incredible must it then have seemed to them, thrilling with real sympathy and loyal gratitude, that they should forsake such a Master.

Nor must we read in their words merely a loud and indignant self-assertion, all unworthy of the time and scene. They were meant to be a solemn vow. The love they professed was genuine and warm. Only they forgot their weakness; they did not observe the words which declared them to be helpless sheep entirely dependent on the Shepherd, whose support would speedily seem to fail.

Instead of harsh and unbecoming criticism, which repeats almost exactly their fault by implying that we should not yield to the same pressure, let us learn the lesson, that religious exaltation, a sense of special privilege, and the glow of generous emotions, have their own danger. Unless we continue to be as little children, receiving the Bread of Life, without any pretense to have deserved it, and conscious still that our only protection is the staff of our Shepherd, then the very notion that we are something, when we are nothing, will betray us to defeat and shame.

Peter is the loudest in his protestations; and there is a painful egoism in his boast, that even if the others fail, he will never deny Him. So in the storm, it is he who should be called across the waters. And so an early reading makes him propose that he alone should build the tabernacles for the wondrous Three.

Naturally enough, this egoism stimulates the rest. For them, Peter is among those who may fail, while each is confident that he himself cannot. Thus the pride of one excites the pride of many.

But Christ has a special humiliation to reveal for his special self-assertion. That day, and even before that brief night was over, before the second cockcrowing ("the cock-crow" of the rest, being that which announced the dawn) he shall deny his Master twice. Peter does not observe that his eager contradictions are already denying the Master's profoundest claims. The others join in his renewed protestations, and their Lord answers them no more. Since they refuse to learn from Him, they must be left to the stern schooling of experience. Even before the betrayal, they had an opportunity to judge how little their good intentions might avail. For Jesus now enters Gethsemane.

William Robertson Nicoll, ed., The Expositor's Bible (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1887–1910) — public domain. 65 of 66 books (1 Corinthians is not separately keyed, as that volume carries no machine-parseable verse references); section-level commentary keyed to the opening verse. Introductory and overview sections not keyed to a specific passage are excluded.

14:26-27 Then they sang a hymn: It was customary to end the Passover by singing the last part of the hallel psalms (Pss 114–118). • The singing of hymns brought the Passover meal and Last Supper to a conclusion, and Jesus and the disciples departed for the Mount of Olives to spend the night. As they proceeded, Jesus told his disciples that they would all desert him, which had to happen because the Scriptures foretold it. • God will strike the Shepherd: As a result, the sheep (the disciples) would be scattered.

Tyndale Open Study Notes — © Tyndale Open Resources, licensed CC BY-SA 4.0. Text via the HelloAO Bible API.

Mar_14:26-31. See on Mat_26:30-35.

Mar_14:29. καί εἰ] even if. On the difference between this and εἰ καί (which here occurs as a various reading), see Klotz, ad Devar. p. 519 f.

ἀλλʼ] in the apodosis of a connecting sentence, at certe; see Heindorf, ad Plat. Soph. p. 341 f.; Klotz, p. 93.

Mar_14:30. σύ] has the emphasis of the contrast with ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἐγώ.

σήμερον ταύτῃ νυκτί] (see the critical remarks) impassioned climax: to-day, in this night. As to πρὶν ἤ, see on Mat_1:18.

δίς] a later form assumed by the utterance than in Matthew. Comp. Mar_14:68; Mar_14:72. Even Joh_13:38 has it not. There was no occasion for a later simplification (Weiss), if the characteristic δίς was there from the first.

Mar_14:31. ἐκπερισσῶς ἐλάλει] (see the critical remarks): but he was speaking exceedingly much. Observe the difference between this ἐλάλει and the subsequent ἔλεγον (comp. on Mar_1:34 he latter is the simple, definite saying; the former, with ἐκπερισσῶς, is in keeping with the passionate nature of Peter not even yet silenced by Mar_14:30. The word ἐκπερισσ. is not preserved elsewhere.

ἀπαρνήσομαι] οὐ μή, with the future (see Ellendt, Lex. Soph. II. p. 410 ff.), denotes the right sure expectation. Comp. on Mat_26:35.

Meyer — Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament — English translation by Peter Christie, edited by Frederick Crombie (T&T Clark, 1880) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

Mar 14:26-31 . On the way to Gethsemane (Mat 26:30-35 , Luk 22:39 ).

Mar 14:26 , exactly as in Mat 26:30 , states that after singing the paschal hymn the company went forth towards the Mount of Olives.

The Expositor's Greek Testament, edited by W. Robertson Nicoll (1897–1910) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

(26-42) And when they had sung an hymn.—See Notes on Mat_26:30-46.

A Bible Commentary for English Readers, edited by Charles John Ellicott (1878–1897) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

26–31. The Flight of the Apostles foretold and the Denials of St Peter

26. when they had sung an hymn] In all probability the concluding portion of the Hallel. See above, note on Mar_14:16.

The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges (gen. ed. J. J. S. Perowne; Cambridge University Press, 1878–1918) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

And Jesus saith unto them,.... As they were going to the Mount of Olives. The Persic version reads, in this place; meaning the Mount of Olives, having got thither:

all ye shall be offended because of me this night; See Gill on Mat 26:31;

for it is written in Zac 13:7,

I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered: Christ is meant by the shepherd, and the apostles by the sheep. The Syriac version reads, "his sheep".

John Gill's Exposition of the Whole Bible (1746–1763) — public domain (CC PDM 1.0). Text via the HelloAO Bible API.

Jesus Christ is seized upon Mount Olivet, whence he ascended into heaven; that we might know that the place on earth where we watch and pray, where we suffer chains without resistance, is the place whence we are to ascend into heaven. (St. Jerome)

George Leo Haydock (1774–1849), Haydock's Catholic Family Bible and Commentary, 1859 edition — public domain. Excludes Psalms (Douay-Rheims chapter numbering differs from Protestant) and Deuterocanonical books (Catholic canon only).

And when they had sung a hymn, they went out unto the mount of Olives. Some suppose that this was one particular hymn out of the Jewish service-books appointed for use at the close of the Paschal supper. The word in the Greek is simply umnhsantev . What they sang was more probably the Hallel, consisting of six psalms, from Psalm 108, to Psalm 118, inclusive. They went out unto the Mount of Olives. It was our Lord"s custom, in these last days of his earthly life, to go daily to Jerusalem, and teach in the temple, and in the evening to return to Bethany and sup; and then after supper to retire to the Mount of Olives, and there to spend the night in prayer. (Luk_21:37) But on this occasion he did not return to Bethany. He had supped in Jerusalem. Besides, he knew that his hour was come. So he voluntarily put himself into the way of the traitor. (Joh_18:2)

Vers. 26-31. Warnings.

I HUMAN NATURE IS NOT TO BE DEPENDED ON. The most loyal hearts are not fear-proof. Men act much like sheep; are gregarious both in good and in evil. Often they will follow a leader through the greatest dangers; remove the leader, and throw them upon themselves, and courage vanishes, and we know how frail a thing our nature is. Jesus foreknew all this.

II YET DIVINE LOVE TRUSTS OUR NATURE. Jesus knew that he should return and again gather these scattered sheep. If our salvation depended on ourselves, all were lost. It is the power and the wisdom greater than ourselves which deliver us from ourselves; and there is no worse enemy to be found than the treacherous heart within our breast.

III IDLE RESOLVES. "Sincere purposes are not sufficient to ensure steadfastness." Good men have said that the more resolves they make, the more sins they find they commit. This may not be strictly so. Still, to add to the original fault the fault of a broken resolve, does hurt to the soul. All experience teaches us our frailty. And the practical lesson is not to indulge in offensive protestations of humility before our fellow-men, but to see ourselves as we are, and seek strength, not in self-dependence, but in God-dependance. J.

Vers. 26-42. Parallel passages: Mat_26:30-46 Luk_22:39-46 Joh_18:1. The agony in Gethsemane.

I SCENE AND SEVERAL CIRCUMSTANCES CONNECTED WITH THE AGONY.

1. Anticipation. From the entrance of our Savior upon his public ministry his life was one of continued trial. All along symptoms of the approaching crisis appeared, all along the bitter cup was steadily filling, all along the clouds were gradually gathering. At length, towards the close of his career, the storm-clouds in all their fury burst upon him. After his last entrance into Jerusalem the bitter cup became brimful, and he was now to drink and even drain it to its very dregs. The anticipation of those sufferings he was to undergo had made a deep impression on his mind; forebodings of them had frequently disturbed his repose, dread of them overwhelmed his spirit. He foresaw all, he anticipated all, he in a measure foretasted all; accordingly, several days before his passion, he cried out," Now am I troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I to this hour;" or, as some erroneously read it, "What shall I say? Shall I say this, Father, save me from this hour?

2. Preceding circumstances. On examining the circumstances that precede the agony, we find that the Wednesday and the Thursday before the Passover our Lord himself spent at Bethany, while on the latter day his disciples went to Jerusalem to engage an apartment and prepare a lamb for the coming solemnity. When the evening of the day was come, Jesus also repaired to Jerusalem. Having there joined the disciples, he sat down with them to the sacred feast which had been prepared, and which he purposed to render still more sacred by engrafting thereon (as we have seen) the new festival to be observed in remembrance of himself, as a memorial of his death, and in exhibition of his body broken and blood shed for many for the remission of sins. Such were the order and connection of events. The Passover had been observed that Passover which he had desired so earnestly to eat with his disciples. The sacrament of the Supper had been instituted by our Lord, and kept for the first time in company with his faithful followers. Subsequently he had delivered that touching and pathetic, yet most consolatory and truly sublime discourse recorded in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth chapters of the Gospel of St. John. He had poured forth, out of the fullness of his heart, that fervent and beautiful prayer contained in the seventeenth chapter of the same Gospel. He had warned the disciples against deserting him in the hour of temptation. He had selected three of them specially to attend him in his sorrows. Then, late at night, after delivering the discourse and praying the prayer and making the arrangements referred to, he left the city for the scene of his agony.

3. The scene. The place where this occurred was a spot often frequented by our Lord and his disciples. On this account St. Luke does not designate the place by name; he merely says, "When he was at the place." St. John accounts for the traitor"s knowledge of the place from its being a frequent resort of the Savior: "Judas also," he says, "knew the place: for Jesus ofttimes resorted thither with his disciples." The place was a garden, little more than half a mile from the city of Jerusalem, and only a stone"s throw from the brook Kidron, situated on the western slope and near the foot of the Mount of Olives. That garden had not been laid out for the production of herbs, but as an olive plantation. The name of that garden, as given by St. Matthew and St. Mark, was Gethsemane, so called from two words meaning "oil-press." As just intimated, it appears to have been a frequent and favorite resort of our Lord and his disciples. To that spot he often went as a meeting-place with his disciples scattered through the city during the day, according to the meaning assigned by some to the term sunhcyh , rendezvoused. Thither the Savior often retired from the world, and to be alone with God. Thither he often repaired for prayer and meditation. There he often spent the night in intercourse with Heaven. There, amid the deep gloom of that solitary plantation, was the place of the memorable and most affecting scene to which this section refers. That garden, if tradition has rightly marked the site, remains to the present day. That enclosure still stands, surrounded by a wall formerly of loose stones but now plastered and whitened, and contains eight large and venerable olive trees. Up to the present time it is a gloomy and forsaken place, yet from its associations it must ever be to the Christian a sweet and sacred spot. To this day it is a peculiarly sombre as well as solitary place, with that rude stone wall enclosure and those grey old olive trees. It was here an event took place the full purport of which eternity perhaps can alone reveal. At all events, for suffering and sorrow it ranks next to the Crucifixion itself. But sad and sorrowful as are the memories associated with Gethsemane, it is invested with a sacredness that makes it unspeakably dear to every Christian heart. "Gethsemane can I forget, And there thine anguish see, Thine agony and bloody sweat, And not remember thee?

Let us imagine ourselves, then, in that sombre and solemn enclosure on the eve of man"s redemption, in company with our Lord and along with Peter and James and John. The same three had been spectators of the Transfiguration. The same three had stood by while their Master restored to life the ruler of the synagogue"s daughter. The same three are now privileged to be witnesses of that fearful struggle of the Redeemer"s soul, called in this passage his agony. And as we stand in that society and on that spot, eastward rises high above us the lofty summit of Olivet. Westward we are overshadowed, or at least our view is shut in, by the gigantic walls of the holy city. Below us lies the valley of the Kidron, with the little freshet from which it takes its name. Yonder at a distance, amid the gloom of the overhanging olive trees, is seen the Savior"s person dimly revealed by the pale light of the silvery moon. It is a chilly night, but chilly as is the night-air, the warm perspiration bursts forth from every pore, moistens every limb, and falls like big drops of blood down to the ground.

II THE STRUGGLE AND ITS SEVERITY.

1. Meaning of the term. The word "agony" is due to St. Luke, and employed by him only in the record of this transaction; while the use of this word helps considerably to the right understanding of the whole. The idea of pain so usually associated with agony is not the exact sense of the word. It rather means conf l ict or struggle. It was a word which the Greeks applied to their games. Thus the runner in the race, the pugilist in the combat, and the wrestler in the contest, were properly said to agonize. Pain connected itself with the word only as a secondary and subordinate notion. But what was the nature of this struggle? It could not be with sin, for he had no sin; he was "holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners." It was not with the development of any unholy tendency or the uprising of any evil passion; from all such his humanity was exempt. Nor yet are we without a hint respecting the source whence the struggle proceeded. If we compare an expression at the close of the temptation with another in the narrative of the agony we may arrive at a tolerably safe conclusion. In the first-named passage Satan is said to have left our Lord for a season, or rather until a convenient season; while in this passage the subject of prayer, which he suggests to his disciples, was the avoidance of temptation. Putting these two things together, we have good ground to believe that the suitable season for another onslaught of the evil one had arrived; that the attack was renewed; that Satan had returned; that the tempter, though foiled once and again before, had resumed with increased facilities, or from a vantage-ground, or at a more favorable opportunity, the terrific trial. A passage in the Epistle to the Colossians favors this view. It is there (Col_2:15) said that he stripped off or put away from himself the hostile principalities or powers that clung to him like a deadly Nessus-robe. The thrice-repeated assaults of Satan in the wilderness had been repelled, and the tempter defeated, but only for a time. The attack was renewed in Peter"s effort to dissuade the Savior from suffering; and unconscious as the apostle was of the source whence the suggestion sprang, it was none the less a device of the great enemy, as we may infer from the sternness of our Lord"s rebuke when he said, "Get thee behind me, Satan." But the tempter was again baffled and beaten. Once more, however, the prince of this world mustered all his forces for the last and fiercest onslaught. This was the hour and power of darkness, beginning with the agony and ending with the Crucifixion. And now Satan and the powers in league with him are not only vanquished, but Jesus "made a show of them openly, triumphing over them," as we read in that passage of Colossians; that is, they were boldly exhibited as trophies by the Victor, and led in triumph as captives bound to the Conqueror"s car.

2. Point of attack. Still curiosity would desire information with respect to the particulars of the present trial, or the character of the struggle in which the Savior is now engaged. What was its turning point? Was he pressed to repudiate the responsibility he had assumed for sinners, and did the struggle consist in resisting such pressure? Was he tempted to renounce the great work of man"s redemption? Was there a shrinking of the flesh from the terrible ordeal that was fast approaching, while the spirit drew in the opposite direction? It can be no matter of surprise that the pure humanity of our Lord should recoil from what was coming in the near future, for he foresaw it all the sneer, the scorn, the spitting, and smiting; the robe of mockery, and the thorn crown, together with the scourging and suspension on the cursed tree. We cannot wonder that the anticipation of all this, and vastly more, should produce a struggle of no ordinary kind in the breast of the Son of God. But whatever the exact nature of the struggle was, from whatever cause he agonized, one thing is perfectly plain, and that is the extreme intensity of the agony.

3. Evidence of its intensity. So unspeakably intense was its severity, that he sweat as it were great drops or clots (yromboi) of blood which ran down to the ground. With reference to this proof of its severity, several similar instances of sweating blood have been adduced. Ancient authors and modern writers alike record cases of it. Diodorus of Sicily mentions bloody sweat as resulting from the bite of Indian serpents. Aristotle speaks of it as caused by a diseased state of the blood. Some recent medical authorities reckon it among the consequences of excessive terror or extreme exhaustion. But by far the most striking case of all is one narrated by the infidel Voltaire. In his essay on the civil wars of France, he says that the king, Charles IX, soon after the Bartholomew Massacre, was attacked by a strange malady, which carried him off at the end of two years. His blood was always oozing out, forcing its way through the pores of the skin an incomprehensible malady, against which the art and skill of the physicians were unavailing. This, he adds, was regarded as an effect of the Divine vengeance; but elsewhere he attributes it to excessive fear or violent agitation, or to a feverish and melancholy temperament, admitting that other cases of the same have occurred.

III THE SAVIOR"S SORROW AND ITS SOURCE.

1. The description of his sorrow. There is a climax in this description. He began to be sorrowful; his soul was sorrowful, exceeding sorrowful, even unto death. He was amazed, and very heavy. One of the words here employed is peculiar. It denotes, according to one derivation, satiety, but according to another a state and consequent feeling of strangership a sort of homesickness. How applicable to the Savior"s sorrow! He must have been more than satiated with earth, and homesick, if we may use the expression, for heaven. But, looking deeper down, we find three words descriptive of the Redeemer"s sorrow, which require closer and more careful consideration. The original word for being sorrowful (lupeisyai) is in this narrative peculiar to St. Matthew; that for being sore amazed or stunned (ekyambeisyai) is only used by St. Mark; while those equivalent to very heavy (adhmonein), and to the soul being exceeding sorrowful (perilupov) even unto death, are common to both. The first expression is one of frequent occurrence, but is here intensified by a subsequent compound and several adjuncts. Further, while the seat of this sorrow is the soul, the sorrow itself is exceeding and overwhelming, and enwraps the soul, the soul being distressed all round grieved on every side (peri). Nor is that all; it is so excessive that soul and body seem ready to part, or actually to part, under the pressure and the death-pang to be anticipated. If it be not the fulfillment of, it is at least in correspondence with, the words of the psalmist "The pains of hell took hold on me, I grief and trouble found.

The next term, that peculiar to Mark, imports a complex state of feeling made up of horror and amazement, or extreme alarm and consternation, approaching to stupefaction or being stunned, while here, again, an augmenting particle increases the notion to the highest degree. Once more, the former of the two words employed by St. Matthew and St. Mark in common, whatever origin is assigned to it, is used to denote a state of distress that combines at once dejection of mind and disquietude of spirit, or anxiety and anguish.

2. The cause of this sorrow. Now, those words and phrases employed in describing the Savior"s sorrow, weighty as they are in themselves separately, when taken together represent an extreme of sorrow and a weight of woe which no utterances of human speech appear adequate fully to express. To this sorrow may be applied the words of the prophet, "Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, wherewith Jehovah hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger." It is now time to inquire into the cause or causes from which such sorrow sprang. To what must we attribute this sorrowfulness, this sore amazement, this extreme heaviness and exceeding sorrowfulness of soul even unto death? We may answer

(1) negatively. To attribute it to fear of death would be a glaring outrage on all probability, and the gravest libel on the Son of God. Who has not heard of that Athenian sage who philosophized so calmly and conversed so pleasantly with his friends till the poison-cup did its work? Many a soldier, both in ancient days and modern times, has faced death fearlessly and unshrinkingly. Many a soldier of the cross has displayed equal, and in cases not a few still greater, heroism. Not only men, but delicate matrons and tender maidens, have heroically braved the persecutor"s rage, and bidden him do his worst. In the days of the martyrs, many courageously and cheerfully encountered death in its most ghastly form. Some endured the most cruel tortures without complaint. Some were torn to pieces by wild beasts. Some were left to look at the ocean"s tide as it approached nearer and nearer, rising higher and higher till they sank in the gurgling wave. Some were sawn asunder. Some were crucified with the head downwards. Some went upward from the stake in a chariot of fiery flame. And is it possible that the Founder of our faith had less fortitude in the near prospect of death than many of his weakest followers? Many, supported by a good cause and a good conscience, have despised death, and surrendered life unhesitatingly and unfalteringly. Many, of different ranks and different ages and of both sexes, have submitted to a death of cruellest torture, undaunted and undismayed. Hundreds have in their last moments illustrated the words of the poet"Resting in the glorious hope To be at last restored, Yield we now our bodies up To earthquake, fire, and sword.

Is it, then, for a moment supposable that the servant should so far surpass his Master, and the disciple his Lord, that what caused the latter such agony and anguish was matter of exultation and triumph to the former? We answer

(2) affirmatively. What, then, was the cause of the Savior"s sorrow? Was his case different from any or all of those referred to? Yes, most certainly; they were wide as the poles apart. Those illustrious heathens, those great and good men, those noble martyrs, those death-defying followers of the Savior, stood each in his own lot in the end of the days. Not so the Savior: his was a representative capacity; he was the second Adam his people"s federal Head. He came to give his life a ransom for many, to bear the sin of many, and to be numbered with the transgressors. He came to take the place of the guilty, and to stand in the stead of millions. Then the sword of justice was to be unsheathed against the Shepherd, the man that was God"s Fellow. The Shepherd must lay down his life for the sheep, else they must perish, and perish entirely, and perish everlastingly; "for the wages of sin is death," and "all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." "Die man, or justice must Except some other as able and as willing pay The rigid satisfaction death for death.

The exact relation of the Savior"s sufferings to the penalty incurred we need not dwell on here. Whether it is a relation of diversity (aliud pro quo), as Grotius maintained; or of equivalence (tantundem), according to others; or of identity (idem), in accordance with the view of a third class, we shall not attempt to determine further than to reject the first, and express our preference for the second rather than for the third. Further. as his life had been stainless, his death must be sinless. Holy and harmless as that life had been, his death must be equally free from sin and separate from sinners. But now came the severest test and sorest trial. If the awful sufferings in near prospect should weaken his purpose; if, foreseeing the shame and pain and torture, his resolution should give way; or if, what would equally defeat his undertaking, his heart should conceive or cherish any feeling of revenge; or if the burning sense of wrong should provoke complaint, or any word of impatient murmuring should escape his lips; if, in a word, any sin were to mingle with thought or feeling, or find utterance in speech, his life-work would miscarry and the whole would end in irreparable failure. No wonder, then, that, in view of all this mighty burden which he bore-in view of the dread responsibility laid upon him, in view of that mountain-load of sin he was to transfer to himself and bear away, in view of that great sacrifice which he was to offer, in view of the great satisfaction he was to make, in view of that great salvation he was to effect, the Savior"s humanity began to shrink. If we turn to the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, a passage written more than seven hundred years before the time of our Lord"s agony, we find at once a comment on that agony and a key to its cause: "The Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all," or, more literally rendered, "The Lord hath made the iniquities of us all to meet or fall on him," or, more strictly still, "The Lord hath made the iniquities of us all to rush on him." In those words thus understood our sins are figuratively represented as beasts of prey, and Jesus is their Victim; or as cruel enemies, and Jesus is the Object on which their vengeance vents itself. Like bulls of Bashan, they beset him round. Like ravening and roaring lions, they gaped upon him with their mouths. Other adversaries, less powerful but more vexing, compassed him like dogs. It was as though fiercest foes of every kind and on every hand assailed him.

IV THE SUPPLICATION AND THE STRENGTH THEREBY SECURED.

1. The meaning of this cup. No wonder he prayed, "Let this cup pass from me." The meaning of "cup" Isaiah (Isa_51:17) here is obviously suffering and sorrow a bitter mixture to be drunk. Thus of his fur says, "O Jerusalem, which hast drunk at the hand of the Lord the cup of his fury; thou hast drunken the dregs of the cup of trembling, and wrung them out;" while in the seventy-fifth Psalm we read that "in the hand of the Lord there is a cup, and the wine is red; it is full of mixture; and he poureth out of the same: but the dregs thereof, all the wicked of the earth shall wring them out, and drink them." A similar figure is found in Homeric poetry ("Iliad," 24:528) "Two urns by Jove"s high throne have ever stood; The source of evil one, and one of good. From thence the cup of mortal man he fills; Blessings to these, to those distributes ills. To most he mingles both: the wretch decreed To taste the bad unmix"d, is cursed indeed.

But while the figure itself is clear, the fact underlying it is not so clearly or easily understood.

2. The mixture in this cup. What elements mingled in this cup? What were the bitter ingredients in the mixture it contained? It was not, as already seen, the mere shrinking of our Lord"s humanity from death, however painful and shameful, though we do not by any means exclude this element. Neither was it an apparition of the evil one in some form specially dreadful and terrible, as some have conjectured. There was something worse than all this something more and bitterer still. There can be little doubt, though some seem to think otherwise, that the assaults of the Prince of darkness were peculiarly powerful at this juncture, and went to make up part of the bitterness of this cup. Of this we are not without some intimation from our Lord himself, for before entering Gethsemane he says, "The prince of this world cometh," and before leaving the scene of the agony he adds, This is your hour, and power of darkness." From all this, and from the circumstance already adverted to, that Satan had relinquished his attempt only until another and more suitable season arrived, we have reason to conclude that Satan was again at work during the agony, that he was renewing with redoubled energy his fiery darts, deterring from the work that was being done, and at the same time in every way depreciating its worth. The conflict foretold in the garden of Eden was to be fought out in Gethsemane; the heel of the Seed of the woman was to be bruised, and the head of the old serpent to be crushed. It was not strange, then, that the serpent should hiss most horridly, while his head was thus being crushed. It were strange indeed if, when the spoiler was to be spoiled, the captor deprived of his prey, and captivity led captive, Satan should not rouse himself to one fearful, final effort to retain at once his power and his prey. His temptation then mingled in and embittered the draught which the Savior was to drink and drain to its dregs. Whatever the nature of Satan"s suggestion may have been, whether resistance to the Divine will, or refusal of the destined draught, or desertion of the post assigned, or something yet more shocking, it is needless to inquire. It is enough to know that when our Lord tasted the cup he turned aside, so exceeding bitter was that mixture; a dark cloud passed over the serene spirit of the Son of God; his inward vision was obscured; the Father"s will became invested in mystery, and the cross in blackness.

3. Other ingredients in the cup. Another ingredient in that cup was the withdrawal of the Divine presence the hiding of his heavenly Father"s face. Sin shut man out of Paradise; sin excludes man from the favor of God. The Savior took our sin upon him; he became our Substitute; he acted as our Surety; he stood in our stead, and eventually offered himself a Sacrifice for us. He thus exposed himself to the temporary withdrawment of the light of the Divine countenance. Nor can anything be more trying or more painful to a child of God than the loss of the Divine fellowship for a season. When deprived of the sensible enjoyment of Divine communion, he is comfortless. It was thus with Job: (Job 23) "Behold, I go forward, but he is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him: on the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him: he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him." Similar is the complaint of the psalmist in the eighty-eighth psalm: "Lord, why castest thou off my soul? why hidest thou thy face from me? I am afflicted and ready to die from my youth up: while I suffer thy terrors I am distracted. Thy fierce wrath goeth over me; thy terrors have out me off." If a child of God, a sinner saved by grace, feel so acutely the hiding of God"s countenance, how unspeakably more the sinless Son of God! This withdrawal of God"s presence favorable presence is one element, perhaps a main element, in the misery of the world of woe, and forms no small part in the punishment of the lost. But this part of the Savior"s distress had a positive as well as a negative side. Not only was there deprivation of the joys of Divine favor and fellowship, the overclouding of his heavenly Father"s face; there was in all probability some actual infliction of chastisement, as may fairly be inferred from the strong language of the prophet, when he says, "It pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief." But of all the bitter ingredients in the cup of the Savior"s suffering, nothing would pain him more than the sense of our sins being laid upon him, that he might be made sin for us; and the sight of that accursed thing, so abhorrent to his pure nature, as the burden he was to bear; together with the consciousness of the close connection of sin and death and hell. It was then that sorrow arose on every side; sufferings, with concentrated bitterness, overwhelmed him. The hatefulness of sin, God"s indignation against it, that loathsome load of human guilt he was to bear, the work he was to go through in order to remove it, the wrath of Heaven manifested against it, all these ingredients mixed together in that bitter cup.

4. His supplication. It was then he prayed, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt." Here we find, side by side with the deepest suffering, the meekest submission. The prayer is conditioned by possibilities. If justice can be satisfied, if redemption can be effected, if the government of God can be upheld, if, consistently with all this, sinners can be saved without such excess of sorrow, so let it be! The prayer was prayed three times. He went away and prayed; he kneeled down and prayed; he fell on his face or on the ground and prayed. Thus he offered up prayers and supplications, with strong crying and tears. His prayer was heard and answered, and yet the cup did not pass away. He was "heard in that he feared" ("for his godly fear," Revised Version); or, according to another rendering of the words, "he was heard, and delivered from the fear of death." Though the cup was not removed, the dread of death was thus taken away; at all events, strength was imparted.

5. The strength secured by his supplications. There appeared an angel unto him, strengthening him;" literally, infusing strength (enicuwn auton). The immediate consequence of this increased or renewed strength was more earnest and energized supplication: "He prayed more earnestly (ektenesteron)." Strictly sneaking, he continued praying (proshuceto), and that more intensely; the tense (imperfect) of the verb and the qualifying adverb imply prayer sustained and intensified. But intensely earnest as his supplication for the removal of the cup had been, it was equalled by the entire surrender of his own will to that of his heavenly Father. He had said, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt" (so St. Matthew); he had said, "Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done" (so St. Luke); while here, according to the record of St. Mark, he says, "Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt." And once more, as we read in the Gospel of St. Matthew, he said, "O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done." As though he had said, I feel it may not be; I know I must drink it; and as I must I will Not as I will, but as thou wilt. Thy will be done.

6. His example. He was in all things an Example for us. We may pray, and with perfect propriety, for deliverance from danger, or disease, or difficulty, or distress of any kind. If the answer come directly and as desired, it is well; if not, succor of some sort will be brought us, strength suitable and grace sufficient will be given us; in either case, our duty is submission to a will that is wiser than our own, and a full surrender of ourselves into the hands of our heavenly Father, who, in disposing all things to his own glory, disposes them at the same time for our good. The address, as reported by St. Mark, repeats the word for "Father;" thus "Abba" is the Aramaic for "Father," and to it is added the Greek word of the same signification. It may be that

(1) St. Mark, as frequently, explains the vernacular Syriac of Palestine in our Lord"s day by the equivalent Greek word; or

(2) the repetition may imply intensity of feeling and strong emotion, just as the thrice-prayed prayer imports intense earnestness of spirit; or

(3) it may be that by this conjunction of two terms, Oriental and Occidental the one used by the Jew, the other by the Greek-our Lord meant to express his interest on behalf of both Jew and Greek. Further, it has been questioned whether the shrinking of our Lord"s humanity on this occasion was in view of all the sufferings as a whole which, in the capacity of our Surety, he was to endure, or only of those apparently incidental and possibly unessential sufferings, occasioned, for example, by the treachery of one disciple, the denial by another, the desertion of them all, the Jewish trial and the Roman trial, the scourging, spitting, scoffing, and such like. We can hardly thus separate the essential from the unessential, the indispensable from the incidental, in our Lord"s sufferings. As a man, he shrank from the wrath of God; but his ultimate submission to that sorest of all trials showed triumphantly his obedience to his heavenly Father"s will. Thus, in order to save his people, his endurance was complete and his example perfect.

V THE SLEEPINESS OF THE DISCIPLES AND THE SADNESS THAT CAUSED IT.

1. Object of the disciples" watching. The Savior had selected three disciples, as already seen, to be with him. No doubt one object, perhaps the primary object, in view was that they might be eye-witnesses of his agony, and bear testimony thereof to his Church. But another object, and one little if at all less in importance, was that they might be near him for sympathy and support. It was with this view, no doubt, he had said, "Tarry ye here, and watch with me." But even of this human succor he was deprived, forever as he came to them once and again and a third time in the interval of prayer he found them asleep; so Jesus was left alone in his agony.

2. Nature and cause of their sleepiness. And yet it was not a sleep of stupidity, or insensibility, or want of sympathy, in any sense. The cause was the very opposite. And here it is noteworthy that while the other evangelists record the fact, Luke, the beloved physician, alone assigns the cause. How characteristic of his profession! From his skill in physiology he here tells us that "he found them sleeping for sorrow; "just as afterwards, from his knowledge of psychology, he accounts for disbelief from joy where he says, "While they yet believed not for joy." And so it was from very sorrow that they slept. It is not an unusual experience that sorrow acts the part of a narcotic, and sadness causes sleep; thus the psalmist says, "Reproach hath broken my heart, and I am full of heaviness." And a merciful arrangement it is that men under such circumstances can sleep for a season and forget their sorrows.

3. Different explanations. The words which Jesus addresses to his drowsy disciples have been variously understood. Some take them

(1) interrogatively, Do ye sleep now and take your rest? This seems favored by the parallel in St. Luke, "Why sleep ye?" As though he said, Is it a time for indifference or indulgence of this sort? Is a time of present distress and approaching danger a suitable season for sleep? Others take them

(2) as a sort of sorrowful irony, as if he said, Sleep on now if ye can, and if that be possible, in such perilous circumstances. But

(3) many prefer taking them as a permission slightly tempered with reproof, viz., Sleep for the interval that remains. I can now calmly watch and wait alone; the season of needful sympathy is past. He thus implies, moreover, according to Chrysostom, that he has no need of their help, and that he must by all means be betrayed. We may suppose that between this and the following verse some interval of time elapsed, and that then Judas and the band approached when Jesus roused the disciples with the words, "Rise, let us be going." The whole is thus, no doubt, perfectly consistent and clearly intelligible. Intermediately, however, occurs another difficult expression, apecei , which in the active voice refers sometimes to local distance, and sometimes signifies to have back, or get again, or receive in full, and so to be satisfied. According to the first signification, the word is here rendered by some personally and with reference to Judas

(a) he is far off, or

(b) in relation to the crisis of the agony it is past; while

(c) the great majority of interpreters, in accordance with the second meaning of the word, translate it impersonally-it is sufficient, or enough.

Thus understood, if taken in close connection with what precedes, the sense is, Sleep on now and take your rest: it is enough; your watching is no longer required; but, if connected with what succeeds, it signifies, It is enough: you have had sufficient sleep; the hour is come. By combining

(3) and (c) we get what on the whole is most in agreement with both text and context; that is to say, Sleep during the rest of the interval that may be allowed you, and take your rest; I require you to watch no longer. Then, after the lapse of a short interval, or even as an after-thought occasioned by the sight or sound of the enemy"s approach, he checks himself in the additional words, "The hour is come... rise up, let us go.

VI THE CHIEF OBJECT OF THE AGONY.

1. Preparation. One great object of the agony was, as we conceive, preparation for the final, fearful struggle near at hand. The Savior was to brace himself for the conflict. Hence the difference between the agony and crucifixion was this: The agony was, if we may so say, the prelude, the crucifixion the performance; the one was with reverence be it spoken the rehearsal, the other the reality; the one was the anticipation, the other the accomplishment; the one was the will, the other the work. The language of the one is, I am willing I am going to suffer, and so put an end to sin; that of the other is, I have already and actually suffered, and so put away sin forever. The grand issue of Gethsemane was preparedness for future and final suffering, and, if put in words, it would be, I am ready, and in no way reluctant to suffer; while from Calvary proceeds a shout of triumph over suffering endured to the uttermost and attainment of finality as expressed in the words, "It is finished." In the agony we see the sinless human nature of our Lord shuddering in sight of sin, and on the brink of fearful suffering because of sin, though not his own; in the crucifixion we see the same nature sustaining the load of human sin, and succumbing under the consequent suffering and sorrow, yet victorious even when vanquished, and conquering by being slain. The agony was a forecasting of the final struggle; it was going overall beforehand going over all in mind, in spirit, and in body too; the crucifixion was the successful realization of the same. Once the agony was over, the bitterness of death was to some extent past.

2. The loneliness of our Lord in his sufferings. In all this the Savior was alone as much alone in the garden as on the cross, in his agony as in his crucifixion. Sleep on now, he said; you have let the opportunity of sympathizing with and sustaining me pass by. Such, at least, is one not unnatural interpretation of the words. Miserable comforters ye have been, yet I blame you not; the spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. Sleep on now it matters not; for the struggle is over, and over without your cooperation; of the people there was none with me. I have trodden the winepress alone, from first to last. They had been saddened by the prospect of losing their Lord and Master, by his pathetic discourses, by his touching intercession, and by his present supplication, and in consequence they slept.

3. Summary. In summing up the lessons to be learnt from this subject, we are taught

(1) the terrible nature and fearful evil of sin. It was the cause of our Lord"s agony of the intense struggle, the overwhelming sorrow, the bloody sweat. The three chief ingredients in that bitter cup were, first, the unspeakable and indescribable load of human guilt; for though guilt in its moral demerit is not transferable, yet in liability to punishment it is. On the Lamb of God was laid the sin of the world, and he took it away; on our great High Priest were laid the iniquities of us all; the pressure of our transgressions rested on his head, as the sins of Israel on the head of the scapegoat. But another element entering into the cause of his agony was the temptation of Satan. The hour of darkness had come, the powers of darkness were doing their worst, the hosts of darkness rushed to the conflict. What fiendish power they exerted, what fiery trial they occasioned, what foul temptations they suggested, what fearful struggle they engaged in, we cannot even conjecture. A third element, and the worst of all probably, was the hiding of his heavenly Father"s face; it commenced in the agony, continued during the crucifixion, and culminated in those words of awful import, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" But

(2) the next great lesson is connected with prayer. And here we find several important particulars suggested by the prayer of our Lord in his agony the matter of prayer, the manner of it, the posture in it, the spirit of it, the intensity of it, and the success of it. From the matter of the Savior"s prayer we learn the allowableness of supplicating relief from circumstances of distress or disaster, as far as is consistent with God"s will and expedient for us. The manner sanctions not vain repetition, but only such repetition as great earnestness frequently employs. The posture was kneeling, then prostration even on the cold and clammy ground. The spirit was that of perfect submission to the Divine will, with devout and holy resignation to his Father in heaven: "If it be possible, let this cup pass from me." The intensity included increasing earnestness; it was the outpouring of the heart with continued importunity and augmented fervor. The success consisted not in the removal of the cup but of the fear, and in communicated strength and encouragement fortifying for the coming ordeal. Again,

(3) there is an affecting contrast. While all within was storm, all without was calm. Nature all around was tranquil; the moon was shedding her mild radiance over the top of Olivet, the Garden of Gethsemane, and the valley of the Kidron; no wind was blowing, no leaf was stirring, and no ripple moving. All was hushed in silent awe and wrapt in profound astonishment at the bloody baptism with which Jesus was baptized that night. J.J.G.

The Pulpit Commentary (1880–1919), ed. H.D.M. Spence-Jones & Joseph S. Exell — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

Matt. xxvi, 30; Luke xxii, 39; John xviii, 1.

John Wesley, Explanatory Notes Upon the Whole Bible (1754–1765) — public domain. Text via the GEBible commentary corpus.

The Passion in Gethsemane.

The walk to Gethsemane:

v. 26. And when they had sung an hymn, they went out into the Mount of Olives.

v. 27. And Jesus smith unto them, All ye shall be offended because of Me this night; for it is written, I will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered.

v. 28. But after that I am risen, I will go before you into Galilee.

v. 29. But Peter said unto Him, Although all shall be offended, yet will not I.

v. 30. And Jesus saith unto him, Verily I say unto thee, That this day, even in this night, before the cock crow twice thou shalt deny Me thrice.

v. 31. But he spake the more vehemently, If I should die with Thee, I will not deny Thee in any wise. Likewise also said they all.

Jesus had duly finished His last paschal meal; He had incidentally given to His disciples and to all the believers of the New Testament the wonderful blessing of the Eucharist. They now, all together, sang the last part of the Hallel, and then left the upper room and the house of the celebration and slowly wended their way across the Brook Kidron and over to a little garden or orchard on the western slope of Mount Olivet, called Gethsemane, which means "olive-press. " It was probably an olive orchard overlooking the valley and the Temple mount. While on their way over there, Jesus suddenly says to His disciples (note the vivid narration of Mark): All of you will stumble, will be offended, this night. "The discipleship was about to experience a moral breakdown. " In making this startling announcement, Jesus referred them to a prophecy, Zec 13:7. God had foretold that He would afflict, smite the Shepherd, and as a result the sheep would be dispersed, scattered. The suffering of Christ was God’s doing, His affliction; it was demanded by His holiness and righteousness: the Substitute of mankind must suffer the stripes for all mankind. At the same time, Jesus adds a cheering prediction. They would not lose their Shepherd, their Master, for all time, since He would rise from the dead and would go before them into Galilee. Note the promise: Their offense would thus not last; His sufferings would terminate in death, but death would not be able to hold Him, He would throw off its fetters and arise from the grave; He would resume the old relation toward them. But Peter, the impetuous and untried, felt his honor assailed in the first announcement of the Lord. Quickly he turns to Jesus with a protest: Even if all should be offended, most certainly not I. Note the presumption: The others may be weak enough, of them perhaps no more can be expected, but it is altogether different, with me. Peter was suffering with too much self-confidence, with too much trust in his own abilities and powers. He should have begged the Lord most humbly to come to his assistance in case the temptation would become too severe for his weakness. Peter’s case is that of many Christians whom the Lord has given some special grace, and who then become obsessed with the idea that they really amount to something in the kingdom of God, that without them the Church would suffer a great loss. As a matter of fact, no person is irreplaceable in the work of the kingdom of Christ, and unless every worker makes use of the greatest humility at all times, he may find the experience of Peter repeated in himself, 1Co 10:12.

Jesus takes the opportunity to give Peter a very emphatic, energetic warning in the form of a prophecy. Solemnly He declares: Verily I say to thee that thou, with all thy boasting, today, in this very night (exact indication of time), before the second cock-crowing (a still more precise fixing of the time), shalt thrice deny Me. Mark gives the most exact account of the denial and all that preceded it, undoubtedly at the instigation of Peter, who always felt the depth of his fall on the night before his Lord’s death. Instead of shaking Peter out of his sleepy security, the solemn declaration of Jesus only aroused his zeal the more. He began to say and kept on saying, "abundantly in manner and matter, with vehemence and iteration. " He used increasing force in expressing what he thought was the honest conviction of his heart; even if he should have to go into death with the Lord, he would not deny Him. And his self-confident words were echoed in the protestations of the others, who, however, made the assertion only once, and without his fire.

Paul E. Kretzmann, Popular Commentary of the Bible (1921–1924) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

J. W. McGarvey's The Fourfold Gospel [CXXIII. Going to Gethsemane].

CXXIII. GOING TO GETHSEMANE, AND AGONY THEREIN. (A garden between the brook Kidron and the Mount of Olives. Late Thursday night.) aMATT. XXVI. 30, 36-46; bMARK XIV. 26, 32-42; cLUKE XXII. 39-46; dJOHN XVIII. 1.

d1 When Jesus had spoken these words [the words contained in Joh_1-17:26], a30 And when they had sung a hymn [the shadow of the cross did not quench the spirit of praise in Christ], they went out c39 And he came out, and dhe went forth with his disciples cas his custom was, dover the brook Kidron, ainto bunto the mount of Olives. dwhere was a garden, into which he entered, himself and his disciples. cand the disciples also followed him. a36 Then cometh Jesus with them b32 And they come unto a place which was named acalled Gethsemane [The name Gethsemane means a place of oil-presses, and hence it accords well with the name of the mountain at whose base it was situated. But the place was now a garden. It was about half a mile from the city, and from what Luke says here and elsewhere ( Luk_21:37), it seems that Jesus often resorted to it while in Jerusalem at the festivals. Compare also Joh_18:2], c40 And when he was at the place, he said asaith unto his disciples, Sit ye here, while I pray. cPray that ye enter not into temptation. [As the hour of trial and temptation came upon Jesus he fortified himself against it by prayer. And he bade his disciples do likewise, for his arrest would involve them also in temptations which he [685] foresaw that they would not be able to withstand.] a37 And he took btaketh with him Peter aand the two sons of Zebedee, bJames and John, and began to be greatly amazed, asorrowful and sore troubled. [While seeking heavenly aid in this hour of extremity, our Lord also manifested his desire for human sympathy. All the eleven apostles were with him in the garden, and the three most capable of sympathizing with him were stationed nearer to him than the rest.] c41 And he was parted from them about a stone's cast [one hundred fifty to two hundred feet]; b34 And a38 Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: babide ye here, and watch. awith me. [The sequel shows that the phrase "even unto death" was no figure of rhetoric. The nervous prostration of Jesus was such as to endanger his life, and the watching of the apostles may have been doubly needful. Not only did he require their sympathy, but he may also have looked to them to render him assistance in the case of a physical collapse.] 39 And he went forward a little, cand he kneeled down band fell on the face, aand fell on his face, and prayed, bthat, if it were possible, the hour might pass away from him. [This posture was expressive of the most intense supplication.] 36 And he said, { asaying, bAbba, aMy Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass away from me: ball things are possible unto thee; cif thou be willing, remove this cup from me: bhowbeit anevertheless, not as bwhat I will, abut as bwhat thou wilt. cnot my will, but thine, be done. [Much of mystery is found in all life, so it is small wonder if the dual nature of Jesus presents insoluble problems. It perplexes many to find that the divine in Jesus did not sustain him better during his trial in the garden. But we must remember that it was appointed unto Jesus to die, and that the divine in him was not to interfere with this appointment, or the approaches to it. For want, therefore, of a better expression, we may say that from the time Jesus entered the garden until he expired on the cross, the human in him was in the [686] ascendant; and "being found in fashion as a man," he endured these trials is if wholly human. His prayer, therefore, is the cry of his humanity for deliverance. The words "if it is possible" with which it opens breathe the same spirit of submissive obedience which is found in the closing words. Reminding the Father of the limitless range of his power, he petitions him to change his counsel as to the crucifixion of the Son, if his gracious purposes can be in any other way carried out. Jesus uses the words "cup" and "hour" interchangeably. They are both words of broad compass, intended to include all that he would undergo from that time until his resurrection. They embrace all his mental, moral, physical, and spiritual suffering which we can discover, together with an infinite volume of a propitiatory and vicarious nature which lies beyond the reach of our understanding. The submission of Jesus was no new fruitage of his character; the prayer of the garden had been the inner purpose of his entire life-- Joh_5:30, Joh_6:38.] 43 And there appeared unto him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. 44 And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became as it were great drops of blood falling down upon the ground. [Commentators give instances of bloody sweat under abnormal pathological conditions.] 45 And when he rose up from his prayer, he came { acometh unto the disciples, and findeth cfound them sleeping for sorrow, 46 and said unto them, Why sleep ye? rise and pray, that ye enter not into temptation. [The admonition which had at first been addressed to all the eleven is now spoken to the chosen three] aand saith unto Peter, bSimon, sleepest thou? couldest thou not watch one hour? aWhat, could ye not watch with me one hour? 41 Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. [Peter, having boasted of his loyalty, has his weakness pointed out and is further warned to be on his guard, since the weakness of his nature will not stand the coming strain. The slumber of the disciples was not through indifference; but was [687] caused by the prostration of grief. When we remember the excitement which they had endured that night, the tender words spoken by Jesus, the sadness of which was intensified by the atmosphere of mystery which pervaded them, the beautiful and touching prayer, and lastly this agony in the garden, it is not to be wondered at that the apostles, spurred by no sense of danger, should succumb to the long-borne tension and fall asleep. Had they comprehended how much the Lord needed their wakeful sympathy as he came again and again seeking for it, they would probably have kept awake.] b39 And again aa second time he went away, and prayed, bsaying the same words. asaying, My Father, if this cannot pass away, except I drink it, thy will be done. [Jesus here speaks of draining the cup. The "cup" was a common Hebrew figure used to denote one's divinely appointed lot or fortune-- Psa_23:5, Psa_75:8, Isa_51:17, Isa_51:22, Eze_23:31-33.] 43 And he came again and found them sleeping, for their eyes were bvery heavy; and they knew not what to answer him. [They were ashamed of the stupor which had come upon them and knew not what apology to make for it.] a44 And he left them again, and went away, and prayed a third time, saying again the same words. b41 And a45 Then cometh he to the disciples, bthe third time, and saith unto them, Sleep on now, and that your rest: it is enough; abehold, the hour is at hand, bthe hour is come; aand bbehold, the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 42 Arise, let us be going: behold, he that betrayeth me is at hand. [Our Lord's words are paradoxical. In our judgment the saying is best understood by regarding the first part of it as spoken from the Lord's viewpoint, while the latter part is spoken from the disciple's viewpoint. It is as if he said, "So far as I am concerned, you may sleep on and take your rest, for the time to be of comfort or assistance to me has wholly passed. But so far as you yourselves are concerned, you must arise and be going, because Judas with his band of temple police is upon us."] [688]

[FFG 685-693]

J. W. McGarvey (with Philip Y. Pendleton), Commentaries on the New Testament (The Fourfold Gospel, 1914; Acts; and the epistles) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.

hymn

A hymn is a type of song. It was traditional for them to sing an Old Testament psalm.

Jesus said to them

"Jesus said to his disciples"

will fall away

This is an idiom that means leave. AT: "will leave me" (See: Idiom)

I will strike

"kill." Here "I" refers to God.

the sheep will be scattered

This can be stated in active form. AT: "I will scatter the sheep" (See: Active or Passive)

translationWords

Mount of Olives

Jesus

written

shepherd

ewe

unfoldingWord translationNotes — © Distant Shores Media and the Door43 World Missions Community, licensed CC BY-SA 4.0. Source: git.door43.org/Door43/en_tn.

26–31. DEPARTURE TO THE MOUNT OF OLIVES. DESERTION AND DENIAL FORETOLD

Mat 26:30-35. Luk 22:31-39. Joh 14:31; Joh 18:1

26. ὑμνήσαντες. They sang one or two Psalms, probably 136, or 115–118, before leaving the room.

ἐξῆλθον. This perhaps corresponds with Joh 14:31 (see notes there), but more probably with Joh 18:1. Going out of the city to the Mount of Olives was His usual practice (Mar 11:1; Luk 22:39), and therefore would not surprise the Eleven. Probably even St John did not know that Judas would accomplish his treachery that night.

Cambridge Greek Testament for Schools and Colleges (Cambridge University Press, 1896; 21 vols, various authors incl. Carr, Maclear, Plummer, Farrar, Lumby, Moule, M. R. James, Simcox) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

26-31.] Declaration that all should forsake Him. Confidence of Peter. Mat 26:30-35. (See Luk 22:31-34, and notes there.) Our account is almost verbatim the same as that in Matt., where see notes. The few differences are there commented on.

Henry Alford, The Greek Testament (1849–1861) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

26-31. After singing the Hallel, they go out to the Mount of Olives. On the way, Jesus warns the disciples that they will all fall away from him that night. He quotes a passage from Zechariah, showing that scattering of the sheep follows the smiting of the shepherd. After his resurrection, he will go before them into Galilee. Peter protests that he at least will not prove unfaithful, whereupon Jesus predicts that before the second crowing of the cock, he will deny him thrice. Peter again protests vehemently that he will sooner die with him, than deny him, and the rest of the disciples join him.

26. ὑμνήσαντες—The hymn sung by the Jews at the Passover supper was the Great Hallel, consisting of Ps. 113-118, 136. It was the second part of this, 115-118, according to the school of Shammai 114-118, which they sang at this time, after the Passover meal. τὸ ὄρος τῶν ἐλαίων—the name of the hill covered with olives, lying east of Jerusalem, and about half a mile from the city.

International Critical Commentary — older volumes (1896–1929), various authors — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

Sung an hymn. See on Mt 26:30.

Marvin R. Vincent, Word Studies in the New Testament (1887–1900) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.