Mark 14:38

Mar_14:38

The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak.

1. I think, will some say, that my sin is a sin of infirmity because it is but small. But if you look into 1Sa_15:1-35, you may read that Sauls sin, for which the Lord rejected him, was of no great outward bulk; for he spared the fatlings that he might sacrifice thereby. A great many small sins may make as great a bulk as one gross sin; yea, possibly there may be much sinfulness and evil in committing of a small sin; for as amongst men, it is the greatest incivility to break with another for a small matter; so with God, to break with God for a small thing; and much skill may be seen in a small work; a little watch, etc. So your skill in sinning may be seen in a small sin; his sin is never small that thinks it small.

2. But I think my sin is a sin of infirmity because I am tempted to it, and because I am drawn on by others. But, I pray, was not Adam tempted unto the eating of the forbidden fruit by Eve? And was not Eve tempted by Satan? And will you call that a sin of infirmity that condemned all the world as Adams sin did?

3. But I think my sin is a sin of infirmity because I do strive against it. And, I pray, did not Pilate strive against the crucifying of Christ? Possibly therefore a man may strive against his sin, and yet the sin be no sin of infirmity.

4. But my sin is a sin of infirmity because I am troubled after it. And was not Esau troubled after he had sold his birth-right for a mess of pottage; did he not seek it with tears? I do strive against it, and though I am troubled after it, yet it may be no sin of infirmity.

But as some are mistaken on the left hand, thinking that their sins ale sins of infirmity, when indeed they are not: so others on the right hand are mistaken, and think that their sins are not sins of infirmity, but of a worse nature, when indeed they are: and that upon these accounts:

1. Oh, saith one, I fear my sin is no sin of infirmity, for I sin knowingly, and with deliberation; I sin against my knowledge, and against my conscience, and therefore my sin can be no sin of infirmity. But for answer hereunto, you must know, it is one thing for a man to sin knowingly, and another thing for a man to sin out of knowledge, or against his knowledge. A man sins ignorantly when ignorance is the companion of his sin only: a man sins out of ignorance, when ignorance is the only cause of his sin, and not the companion only.

2. Oh, but I fear that my sin is no sin of infirmity, because I fall into it again and again, and do lie in it. But do ye know what it is to lie in sin? There is much mistake about lying in sin. Now if you do thus keep and lie in your sin, why do you so complain? this your complaining argues that there is some purging out, and therefore you do not lie in sin.

3. Oh, but I fear my sin cannot be a sin of infirmity, because I fall into it after I have been admonished of the evil of it. To that I say no more, but desire you to consider the instance that is here before you. The disciples slept, our Lord and Saviour Christ comes and wakens them; yea, and He chides them too: What (saith He) cannot ye watch with Me one hour I watch and pray; and yet they clapt again: and He comes and wakens them again, and admonisheth them again, and yet they slept again. Possibly, therefore, a man may fail into the same sin again and again, yea, even after admonition, and yet it may be a sin of infirmity. Yet how many poor souls are there, that are mistaken here on the right hand, and do think that their sins are no sins of infirmity, when indeed they are. But if there be such mistakes, how shall we then know whether our sins be sins of infirmity

1. Negatively, That is no sin of infirmity, which is a gross, foul, scandalous sin, committed with deliberation and consultation.

2. If the sin be a ringleader unto other foul sins, it is no sin of infirmity. The ring-leading sin is the most heinous sin. And you see how it is amongst men; if there be a rebellion or insurrection, they take the ringleader and bang up him, for say they, This is the great transgressor, for he is the ringleader. So amongst sins, the great sin is the ringleader; and therefore if your sin be a ringleader unto other foul sins, it is not a sin of infirmity.

3. A sin of presumption is not a sin of infirmity. Sins of presumption and sins of infirmity are set in opposition one to the other in Num_15:1-41 and Psa_19:1-14. And when a man doth therefore sin the rather because God is merciful, or because the sin is but a sin of infirmity, or because he hopes to repent afterward, or because his sin may and can stand with grace; this is a sin of presumption, and is no sin of infirmity: sins of presumption are no sins of infirmity.

4. Again, If the sin be a reigning sin, then it is no sin of infirmity, for when sin reigns, grace doth not; therefore saith the apostle (Rom_6:1-23), Let not sin have dominion over you, for ye are not under the law but under grace; and when sin reigns it is in its full strength.

But how shall we know, then, affirmatively, whether our sin be a sin of infirmity?

1. Thus: If it do merely proceed from want of age in Christianity, then it is, without doubt, a sin of infirmity. Babes are weak and full of weaknesses.

2. If it be no other sin than what is incident unto all the saints, then it is a sin of infirmity; for that sin which is committed by all the saints, is no reigning sin, but a sin mortified.

3. If it be such a sin as you cannot avoid, which breaks in upon you before you are aware, even before you can call in for help from your reason and consideration, and which the general bent and frame of your heart and soul is against, then it is a sin of infirmity, for then it doth arise from want of strength to resist, and not from will to commit. This was the case of Paul (Rom_7:1-25) when evil was present with him, being against the general bent and frame of his soul; for saith he, I delight in the law of God after the inward man, and yet the thing that I would not do, that do I.

4. An infirmity will hardly acknowledge itself to be a sin of infirmity; but the person in whom it is, fears lest it should be worse. If your sin do arise chiefly from some outward cause, it is a sin of infirmity; for than it is not so much from will to commit, as from want of strength to resist. The sin which the apostle speaks of (Gal_6:1) is a sin of infirmity, and the man that commits it is said to be overtaken. Now when a man is upon his journey travelling and is overtaken by another person, his inward inclination and disposition was not to meet the other: so when a man is overtaken by sin, it argues that his sin doth proceed from some outward cause; and when it doth proceed from some outward cause, then he is truly said to be overtaken with it.

5. Infirmity loves admonition: I mean, the person that sins out of infirmity, loves to be admonished, takes admonition kindly, and doth bless God for it.

6. An infirmity discovers good, though it be in itself evil; it is an ill sin, but a good sign. The thistle is an ill weed, yet it discovers a fat and a good sell; smoke is ill, but it discovers fire.

7. Sins of infirmities are servants and drawers of water unto your graces; though in themselves evil, yet through the overruling hand of Gods grace, they will make you more gracious another way. Ye know how it is with a young tradesman, who hath but a small stock; he keeps his shop diligently, and will not spend as others do. If you ask him the reason, saying, Such and such men are of your trade, and they will spend their shilling with us, and their time with us; why will you not do as they? He answers presently, True, they do so, and they may do so, their estate will bear it; but as for me, my stock is small, very little, therefore I may not do as they do, but I must be diligent, and a good husband; I am but a young beginner, and have little skill in the trade, therefore it behoves me to be diligent. His very weakness is the cause of his diligence. So here, the more infirmities that a gracious soul labours under, the more diligent he will be; and if you ask him, Why do you take so much pains in following the means, and the like? he answers, Alas, I am a poor weak creature: such and such an one there is that hath an excellent memory, all that ever he reads or hears is his own; but my memory is naught, my head and heart is naught, and therefore by the grace of God I will take the more pains in following after Christ. Thus his very infirmity is a provocation unto all his diligence.

8. Infirmity doth constantly keep a mans heart low, down, and humble. If one have an infirmity in his speech, he will not be so forward to speak as others are; but being conscious of his own infirmity, he is always low, and afraid to speak. So spiritually. But suppose that my sin be no other than a sin of infirmity, what then? The third particular answers you. Then, your sin being but an infirmity, Christ will never leave you for it, nor east you off for it; but if you sleep, He will waken you; and if you sleep again, He will waken you again. Oh, what sweet grace is this. Is there no evil then in this sin of infirmity? Yes, much, very much: for though it be a drawer of water to your grace, yet it is a Gibeonite, a native, a Canaanite, that will upon all occasions be ready to betray you, and to open the door unto greater thieves, and will always be a thorn and goad in your sides; and though it do not put out your light, yet it is a thief in your candle, which may smear out much of your comfort, and blemish your duty. Ye know how it is with a good writing pen; if there be a small hair in it, though the hair be never so little a thing, yet if it be not pulled out, it will blot and blemish the whole writing sometimes. So may the sin of infirmity do; your whole duty may be blotted and blemished by this small hair, and although God can and doth make use of your infirmities for to keep your graces, yet they are but your lees and dregs, whereas your graces should be all refined. Oh, what an evil thing therefore is it, for a man to be unrefined. And although Christ will not cast you off for a sin of infirmity, yet you may provoke Him thereby to chide you, and to be angry with you. The unbelief of the disciples was but their infirmity, yet Christ did upbraid them because of their unbelief. Thirdly, Though there be much evil in this sin, Christ will not cast you off for it. For it is an honour to a man to pass by infirmities, saith Solomon; much more is it for the honour of Christ to pass by the infirmities of His people. The saints and people of God are in covenant with God by Jesus Christ, and that covenant is a conjugal covenant (Hos_2:1-23). But what husband will put away his wife for her infirmities? That covenant is a paternal covenant, and what father will thrust his child out of doors for his infirmities? A child, though deformed, is more pleasing to the father, because the child is his own, than another beautiful child that is not his own. If a master should turn away his servant for every failing and weakness, who would serve him? Now, saith Luther, what man will cut off his nose because there is filth in it? yea, though the nose be the sink of the brain, yet because it is a member a man will not cut it off. And will Christ cut off one of His members, because there is filth in him, or some weakness and infirmity in him? What father will knock his child on the head, because a wart grows on his forehead? These infirmities in the saints and people of God, are their warts, which grow in the face of their conversation: the blessed martyrs themselves had these warts: Hierom of Prague had a great wart upon him, Cranmer another, Jewel another; yea, if we look into that little hook of Chronicles, I mean Heb_11:1-40, what saint is there mentioned upon record, but had one wart or another? Had not Abraham his wart, in saying, that Sarah was his sister? Had not Sarah hers in laughing? Had not Jacob, Isaac, and Joseph theirs? Moses, Rahab, Samson, Jephthah, and David theirs? Luther had his, and our reformers theirs; yet God owned, used, and honoured them. Surely therefore, though there be much evil in a sin of infirmity, especially if a man fall into it again and again; yet Christ will not leave a man, or east him off for it. If these things be true, then what necessity is upon us, and what great cause have we to examine ourselves, and to consider seriously, what sort of sins those sins are, which we labour under.

But it seems that all the sins of the godly are not sins of infirmity, and God will not cast off a godly man for any sin: what advantage, therefore, hath this sin of infirmity above other sins; or what disadvantage do the other sins of the godly labour under, which this sin of infirmity doth not?

1. Much, very much: for though my sin be great; yet if it be a sin of infirmity, it shall not hinder the present acceptance of my duty.

2. Although my sin he great, yet if it be but an infirmity, it shall not hinder the sense of my justification.

3. Though my sin be great, yet if it be but an infirmity, there is a pardon that lies in course for it; and though it be good to repent of every sin, with a distinct, and particular repentance, yet it is not necessary that there should he a particular repentance for every sin of infirmity.

4. Though a mans sin be great, yet if it be but an infirmity, it shall never bring a scourge upon his family. And though my sin be great, yet if it be but a sin of infirmity, it shall never spoil my gifts, nor make them unprofitable: if a man have great gifts, praying, exercising gifts, and his life be scandalous, what saith the world? But suppose that upon due search and examination, I find that my sin is no other than a sin of infirmity, which will not cast me off, although through my weakness, I do fall into it again and again, what then?

Then several duties follow, and accordingly you are to take up these, and the like gracious resolutions.

1. If my sin be a sin of infirmity, and no other, then through grace will I observe what Gods design is, in suffering and leaving such infirmities in me, and will labour what I can and may, to promote and advance that design.

2. If my sin be but a sin of infirmity, and God will not cast me off for it, then through the grace of God, will I never believe these false reports of Christ, and those misrepresentations of Him which Satan would put upon Him, whereby he would persuade me and others, that our Lord Christ is a hard master.

3. If the Lord Christ will not cast me off foe my sins of infirmity, then, through the grace of God, I will not question my spiritual estate and condition for every sin; I will grieve for every sin of infirmity because it is a sin, but I will not question my condition, because it is but a sin of infirmity.

4. Then will not I cast off myself and others for the sins of infirmities. Shall Christs eye be good and shall my eye be bad?

5. Then will not I cast off the things of Christ because of any infirmity that may adhere to them, or the dispensation of them. When Christ took our nature on Him, His deity was veiled under our humanity, His excellency under our infirmity So now, His grace and His dispensations are veiled under the infirmity of our administrations: as for example: preaching is an ordinance of Christ, yet the sermon may be so delivered, with so much weakness of the speaker, that the ordinance of Christ may be veiled under much infirmity.

6. And if the Lord will not cast me off for my infirmities, then, through grace, I will never be discouraged from the performance of any duty. I will pray as I can and hear as I can, and though I be not able to pray as I would, I will pray as I am able; and though I am not able to examine mine own heart as I would, yet I will do what I am able, for the Lord will not cast me off for infirmities, and therefore I will not cast off my duties because of them.

7. And, lastly, if the Lord Jesus Christ will not cast me off for mine infirmities, then will I never sin because the sin is but a sin of infirmity. (W. Bridge, M. A.)

Watch and Pray

Two points specially claim our attention here.

I. The command given-Watch and pray.

1. Watch. The word is very simple. A physician watches a sick man. A porter watches a building. A sentinel watches on a citys wall.

(1) To watch implies not to be taken up with other things.

(2) To watch implies to expect the enemys approach.

(3) Watching also includes an examination of the points of attack. The physician will observe what course the disease is taking, what organs it is likely to touch. Thus he watches.

2. Pray.

(1) This seems to refer to a habit of prayer. Not a wild cry in danger or sorrow.

(2) Special prayer with reference to temptation is also implied. Prayer to be delivered from the presence of temptation, prayer for victory in temptation.

II. The suitability of the command to those exposed to temptation.

1. The two parts together form the safeguard. Watching supplies materials for prayer. Prayer makes watching effectual. To pray only is presumption. To watch only is to depend on self.

2. The command also suits us because of the enemys subtlety. We need to discover his wiles by watching. We pray for wisdom to discern his specious assaults.

3. And because of our own weakness. (Compare verses 29, 31, with 67, 68).

4. It is also suitable in consequence of our Lords appointment. The battle is His. He appoints its laws. And He has said, Watch and pray. The command speaks thus to true disciples. What does it say to those who are careless and unbelieving? (W. S. Bruce, M. A.)

Prayer all comprehensive

Prayer is not only request made to God, but converse had with Him. It is the expression of desire to Him so as to supply it-of purpose so as to steady it-of hope so as to brighten it. It is the bringing of ones heart into the sunshine, so that like a plant, its inward life may thrive for an outward development. It is the plea of ones better self against ones weaker self. It utters despondency so that it may attain confidence. It is the expression and the exercise of love for all that is good and true. It is a wrestle with evil in the presence of Supreme Goodness. It is the ascent of the soul above time into the freedom of eternity. (Christian World Pulpit.)

The need for watchfulness

It seems as though there were no word so far reaching as the word watch. Vigilance is the price of everything good and great in earth or heaven. It was for his faithful vigilance that the memory of the Pompeian sentinel is embalmed in poetry and recorded in history. Nothing but unceasing watchfulness can keep the heart in harmony with Gods heart. It was a stormy, boisterous night. The dark clouds hung over us, and the wind came with tenfold fury. The sea roiled in mountains, and the proud ship seemed but a toy amid those tremendous billows. Far up on the mast, on the look out, the sailor was heard to cry, An iceberg on the starboard bow. An iceberg on the larboard bow! The deck officer called to the helmsman, Port the helm steadily! and the sailors at the wheel heard and obeyed. The officers were aroused, for there was danger on board to three hundred precious souls. The captain spent a sleepless night, pacing the deck or cabin. Gigantic icebergs were coming against the vessel, and eternal vigilance was the price of our safety in that northern sea. And so it is all through human life. (Anon.)

Watchfulness

Watching is never pleasant work; no soldier really likes it. Men prefer even the excitement and danger of the battlefield to the long weeks of patient vigilance, which nevertheless may do quite as much as a victorious battle to decide the issues of a campaign. Now it is just so in the spiritual war. The forces of civilization rendered our soldiers more than a match for all the barbarous courage of their swarthy foes, provided only by constant vigilance they were in a position to use those forces; and even so the omnipotence of God renders the true Christian more than a match for all the forces of hell, provided only he too is sufficiently vigilant to detect the approach of the foe, and sufficiently wise to confront him with the courage of faith when his approach is detected; but if he walks carelessly, or fails to exercise proper vigilance, the battle will be lost almost before the danger is realized, and Faith will forfeit her victory just because she was not ready to put forth all the supernatural powers that she may command. It is, alas! not an uncommon thing to meet with Christian souls that seem to know something of the life of faith, and yet, to their great surprise, find themselves overcome when they least expect it. We observe sometimes a certain tone of petulance in these admissions of failure, as if in their heart of hearts some sort of implication were cast upon the faithfulness of God, although they would shrink from expressing this in so many words. Now, clearly the cause of all such failures must lie with us, and it will be our wisdom to endeavour to discover it; while it is the worst of folly to charge God with unfaithfulness. What are we placed in this world for? Obviously that we may be trained and developed for our future position by exposure to the forces of evil. Were we so sheltered from evil as that there should be no need for constant watchfulness, we should lose the moral benefit which a habit of constant watchfulness induces. We know that it is a law of nature, that faculties which are never employed perish from disuse; and, on the other hand, faculties which are fully and frequently employed acquire a wonderful capacity. Is not this equally true in the spiritual world? We are being trained probably for high and holy service by-and-by, in which we shall need all those faculties that are now being quickened and trained by our contact with danger, and our exposure to apparently hostile conditions of existence. We are to be trained, by learning quickness of perception of danger here, to exercise quickness of perception in ministry and willing service yonder. Besides, Watchfulness continually provides opportunities for faith, and tends to draw us the closer, and keep us the closer, to Him by whom alone we stand. Were we to be so saved from evil by a single act, as that we should have no further need of Watchfulness, should we not lose much that now makes us feel our dependence on Him who is our constant safety? Have we not to thank God for the very daggers that constrain us to keep so near Him if we are to be safe at all? Let us point out what Watchfulness is not before we go on to consider what it is. And

I. Watchfulness is something quite distinct from nervous timidity and morbid apprehensiveness-the condition of a man who sees an enemy in every bush, and is tortured by a thousand alarms and all the misgivings of unbelief. David did not show himself watchful, but faithless, when he exclaimed, I shall now one day perish by the hands of Saul; and we do not show ourselves watchful when we go on our way trembling, depressed with all sorts of forebodings of disaster. Let me offer a homely illustration of what I mean. I was amused the other day at hearing a soldiers account of a terrible fright that he had during the time of the Fenian scare a few years ago. It fell to his lot one dark night to act as sentinel in the precincts of an important arsenal, which it was commonly supposed might be the scene of a great explosion any night. The fortress was surrounded by a common, and was therefore easy to be approached by evil-disposed persons. The night, as I have said, was as dark as a night could be, and he was all alone, and full of apprehensions of danger. He stood still for a moment fancying he heard something moving near him, and then stepped backwards for a few paces, when he suddenly felt himself come into violent contact with something, which he incontinently concluded must be a crouching Fenian. I was never so frightened, he said, before or since in my life, and to tell you the truth, I fell sprawling on my back. Imagine my feelings when I found that the thing that had terrified me beyond all description was only a harmless sheep that had fallen asleep a little too near my beat. Now, dear friends, I think that this soldiers ridiculous, but very excusable, panic may serve to illustrate the experience of many timid, apprehensive Christians. They live in a state of chronic panic, always expecting to be assailed by some hostile influence, which they shall prove wholly incompetent to resist. If they foresee the approach of any circumstances that are likely to put their religion to a test, they at once make up their mind that fiasco and overthrow are inevitable; and when they are suddenly confronted by what seems an adverse influence, or promises to be a severe temptation, they are ready to give all up in despair. They forget that our Lord has taught us to take no anxious thought for the morrow, and has assured us that sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.

II. Nor again does watchfulness consist in morbid introspectiveness, or in a disposition to charge ourselves with all sorts of imagined forms of evil. To their morbid sensibility everything has depravity in it; good and generous actions only spring from self-seeking; every natural affection is inordinate; every commonplace gratification a loving of pleasure rather than God. It is surely possible, believe me, dear Christian friends, to emulate the exploits of a Don Quixote in our religious life, and to run a tilt at any number of spiritual windmills, but this is not watchfulness. A clerical brother of mine, alarmed from his slumbers by a policeman who reported his church open, imagined that he had captured a burglar by the hair of his head in the tower of his church, when he had only laid violent hands in the darkness upon the church mop! It is quite possible to convert a mop into a burglar in our own spiritual experiences. Just once more let me ask you to bear in mind that Watchfulness does not consist in, and is not identical with, a severe affectation of solemnity, add a pious aversion to anything like natural mirth or cheerful hilarity. I have before my eyes at this moment the recollection of a dear and honoured brother, who, when something amusing had been related at his table, suddenly drew himself up when he was just beginning to join in the hearty laugh, and observed to me with much seriousness, I am always afraid of losing communion by giving way to levity. I confess I admired the good mans conscientiousness, which I am sure was perfectly sincere, but I could not help thinking that he was confusing between sombreness and sobriety.

III. But having pointed out certain forms or habits of conduct which are not be mistaken for Watchfulness, though they often are, let us proceed to inquire what watchfulness is; we have seen what it is not. And here it may be well to notice that two distinct words, or perhaps I should say sets of words, in the Greek, are translated in our version by the one word-watch. The one set of terms indicates the necessity of guarding against sleep, and the other the necessity of guarding against any form of moral intoxication and insobriety. Both these ideas are presented to us together in a single passage in the first Epistle to the Thessalonians: Let us not sleep as do others; but let us watch and be sober. For they who sleep sleep in the night: and they that be drunken are drunken in the night. Here the two dangers arising-the one from sleep, and the other from drunkenness-are brought before us at once; and the two words, which are each of them usually translated by the English word-watch, are employed to guard us against these dangers. Let us watch and be sober. These dangers seem to be in some respects the opposites of each other-the one springs from heaviness and dullness of disposition, and the other from undue excitability. The one is the special danger incidental to monotonous routine and a dead level of quiet regularity, the other is the danger incidental to a life full of stir and bustle-a life where cares and pleasures, successes and failures, important enterprises and stunning disappointments, bringing with them alternating experiences of elation or depression, are only too apt to prove all-engrossing, and to exclude the vivid sense of eternal realities. The one danger will naturally specially threaten the man of phlegmatic temperament and equable disposition, the other will more readily assault the man whose nervous system is highly strung, whether he be of sanguine or melancholic habit. In the present passage the call to watch is coupled with the exhortation to pray, and similarly St. Peter warns us to be sober and watch unto prayer. This suggests to us that Watchfulness needs first of all to be exorcised in the maintenance of our proper relations with God. If only these be preserved inviolate, everything else is sure to go well with us; but where anything like coldness settles down upon our relations with God, backsliding has already commenced, and unless it be checked we lie at the mercy of our foe. Oh, Christian soul, guard with jealous care against the first beginnings of listlessness and coldness and unreality in thine intercourse with God! Not less, perhaps even more, do we need to watch in the other sense which, as I have pointed out, the word bears in New Testament Scripture. Let us not only keep awake, but let us be sober. We need to remember that we are in an enemys land, and that unless we are constantly breathing the atmosphere of heaven, the atmosphere of earth, which is all that we have left, soon becomes poisonous, and must produce a sort of moral intoxication. How often have I seen a Christian man completely forget himself under the influence of social excitement! But I hasten to say, Do not let us fall into the mistake of supposing that it is only the light-hearted and the pleasure loving that need to be warned against the danger of becoming intoxicated by worldly influences. The cares and even the occupations of life may have just as deleterious an effect upon us in this respect as the pleasures. Many a man of business is just as much intoxicated with the daily excitements arising from the fluctuations of the market or of the Stock Exchange, and just as much blinded to higher things by the absorbing interests connected with money making or money losing as the votary of pleasure can be at the racecourse or in the ballroom. Yet again, Watchfulness is to be shown not only in maintaining our relations with God, in resisting any disposition to be drowsy, and in guarding against the intoxicating influence of worldly excitement; it is also to be shown in detecting the first approach of temptation, or the first uprisings of an unholy desire. The careful general feels his enemy by his scouts, and thus is prepared to deal with him when the attack takes place. Even so temptation may often be resisted with ease when its first approach is discerned; but it acquires sometimes an almost irresistible power, if it be allowed to draw too near. But I spoke a few moments ago of the importance of watching, not only against the beginning of temptation without, but also against any disposition to make terms with temptation within. Here, I am persuaded, lies, in most instances, the secret cause of failure. Balaam was inwardly hankering after the house full of silver and gold at the very moment when he affected to despise it. But there is a danger on the other side, against which we have to guard with equal watchfulness. And it is the danger of incipient self-complacency. (W. H. Aitken.)

Advantage of knowing ones weak point

It is the interest of every man not to hide from himself his ailment. What would you think of a man who was sick, and attempted to make himself believe that it was his foot that was ailing, when it was his heart? Suppose a man should come to his physician and have him examine the wrong eye, and pay for the physicians prescription, founded on the belief that his eye was slightly but not much damaged, and should go away, saying, I am a great deal happier than I was, although the doctor had not looked at the diseased eye at all? If a man should have a cancer, or a deadly sore, on one arm, and should refuse to let the physician see that, but should show him the well arm, he would imitate what men do who use all deceits and delusions to hide their moral sores and weaknesses and faults, as far as possible, from themselves, from all persons, and then congratulate themselves that they are not in danger. Watchfulness requires that a man should be honest, and should know where he is, and where his danger is. Let others set their watch where they need it, and you set yours where you need it. Each mans watchfulness should be according to his temperament and constitution. (H. W. Beecher.)

Watching-a military figure

Undoubtedly this is a military figure; although watching may be a domestic figure, ordinarily it is military. A tower, a castle, a fort, is not content with simply the strength of its walls, and its various defences. Sentinels are placed all round about it, and they walk both night and day, and look out on every side to descry any approaching danger, that the soldiers within may put themselves at once in a condition to receive attack. Still more are a moving army watchful, whether upon the march or in the camp. They throw out advanced guards. The picket line is established by night and by day. Men are set apart to watch on purpose that no enemy may take them unawares; that they may constantly be prepared for whatever incursion the chances of war may bring upon them. It is here taken for granted that we are making a campaign through life. The assumption all the way through is, that we are upon an enemys ground, and that we are surrounded, or liable to be surrounded, with adversaries who will rush in upon us, and take us captive at unawares. We are commanded, therefore, to do as soldiers do, whether in fort or in camp-to be always vigilant, always prepared. (H. W. Beecher.)

Each to guard against his own temptations

Your excess of disposition, your strength of passion, and your temptableness are not the same as your neighbours. Therefore it is quite foolish for you to watch as your neighbour watches. Every man must set his watch according to his own disposition, and know his own disposition better than anybody else knows it. If a fort is situated so that the weakest side is on the east, the commander, if he is wise, will set his watch there. He says, I believe that if I defend this point, nothing can do me any harm, and sets his watch there. But suppose the commander of a fort, whose weak place was on the west side, should put his force all on the other side! If he would defend his fort successfully, he should put his soldiers where it is weak. Here is a man who watches against pride; but your temptation is on the side of vanity. It will not do for you to watch against pride, because pride is not your besetting sin. There is many a man who flatters himself, that because his neighbour has corrected his faults by gaining a victory over pride, all he himself needs to do is to gain a victory over pride. He has no difficulty in that, because he is not tempted in his pride. It is very easy to watch against an enemy that does not exist. It is very easy to gain a victory where there is no adversary. (H. W. Beecher.)

Watch against times of temptation

Every man should know what are the circumstances, the times, and the seasons in which he is liable to sin. To make this matter entirely practical, there are a great many who neglect to watch until the proper time and seasons for watching have passed away. Suppose your fault is of the tongue? Suppose your temper takes that as a means of giving itself air and explosion? With one man it is when he rises in the morning, and before breakfast he is peculiarly nervous and susceptible. It is then that he is irritable. It is then that things do not look right. And it is then that his tongue, as it were, snaps, and throws off sparks of fire. With another man it is at evening, when he is jaded, and wearied with the care and labour of the day. He has emptied himself of nervous excitement, and left only excitability. And then is the time when he is liable to break down in various ways. Men must set their watch at the time when the enemy is accustomed to come. Indians usually make their attack at three or four oclock in the morning, when men sleep soundest; and that is the time to watch against Indians. There is no use of doing it at ten oclock in the morning. They do not come then. If it be when you are sick that you are most subject to malign passions, then that is the time when you must set your watch. Or, if it be when you are well that the tide of blood swells too feverishly in you, then that is the time when you must set your watch. If, at one time of the day more than another, experience has shown that you are liable to be tempted, then in that part of the day you must be on your guard. Everybody has his hours, his times and seasons, and his circumstances; and every man should learn them for himself; and every man should set his watch then and there. And frequently, by watching at the right time, you can easily carry yourself over all the rest of the day. (H. W. Beecher.)

The danger of dallying with temptation

There is such a thing as dallying with temptation. Many a maiden will insensibly, and step by step, allow herself to be led to things that, if not wrong, are yet so near it that they lie in its very twilight and she is all the time excusing to herself such permissions and such dalliance, Baying, I do not intend to do wrong; I shall in due time recover myself. There is many a man who takes the serpent into his hand, because it is lithe, and graceful, and burnished, and beautiful, and plays with that which in some unguarded moment will strike him with its poison fangs; and it is poor excuse, when this dalliance has led him to the very edge of temptation, and has struck the fatal poison into him, for him to say, I did not mean to. The mischief is done. The damnation is to come. And it is poor comfort to say, I did not mean to. Pass by it; come not near it; keep far from it, and then you will be safe. But it is not safe for innocent, or inexperienced, or unconscious, or Inconsiderate virtue, to go, by dalliance, near to things that carry in them the very venom of Satan. What should you think of a man who, coming down to New York, should say, I have had quite an experience this morning. I have been up to one of the shambles where they were butchering; and I saw them knock down oxen, and saw them cut their throats, and saw the blood flow in streams from the great gashes. I spent a whole half-day there, looking at men killing, and killing, and killing. What would you say of a man who said, I have been crawling through the sewers under the street; for I want to know what is at the bottom of things in this city? What kind of curiosity would that be? What would you think of a man who went where he could see the offal of hospitals and dissecting rooms, and went wallowing in rottenness and disease, because he wanted to increase his knowledge of things in general? And yet, here are men who take things more feculent, more fetid, more foul, more damnable and dangerous-the diseases, the ulcers, the sores, and the filth of the appetites and the passions; and they will go wading and looking at things that a man should shut his eyes on if they were providentially thrown before him. Why, there are some things that it is a sin to look at twice. And yet there are men who hunt them up! Then again, there are men who live so near to cheating that, though they do not mean to cheat, circumstances cannot bend them without pushing them over. There are many men who are like an apple tree in my garden, whose trunk and roots, and two-thirds of the branches, are in the garden, and one-third of whose branches are outside of the garden wall. And there are many men whose trunk and roots are on the side of honesty and uprightness, but who are living so near the garden wall that they throw their boughs clear over into the highway where iniquities tramp, and are free. It is never safe for a man to run so near to the line of right and wrong, that if he should lose a wheel he would go over. It is like travelling on a mountain road near a precipice. You should keep so far from the precipice, that if your waggon breaks down there is room enough between you and the precipice. Otherwise, you cannot be safe. (H. W. Beecher.)

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

Mar 14:38 . This exhortation to watch and pray is given in almost identical terms in Mt. and Mk. It looks like a secondary version of what our Lord actually said.

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

38. the flesh is weak] It is not of course implied that His own “will” was at variance with that of His Father; but, very Man, He had a human will, and knew the mystery of the opposition of the strongest, and at the same time the most innocent, instincts of humanity. The fuller account of the “Agony” is found in St Luk_22:43-44.

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 again he went away,.... To the same place, or at much such a distance from them, as before:

and prayed and spake the same words; or word, that is, the same matter; for here, answers to which signifies a thing, or matter, as well as word: Christ prayed to the same effect, for matter and substance the same as before, though not in the same express words, as is clear from Mat 26:39.

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

Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation. The great temptation of the disciples at that moment was to deny Christ under the influence of fear. And so our Lord gives here the true remedy against temptation of every kind; namely, watchfulness and prayer watchfulness, against the craft and subtlety of the devil or man; and prayer, for the Divine help to overcome. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. Here our Lord graciously finds excuses for them. It is as though he said, "I know that in heart and mind you are ready to cleave to me, even though the Jews should threaten you with death. But I know also that your flesh is weak. Pray, then, that the weakness of the flesh may not overcome the strength of the spirit." St. Jerome says, "In whatever degree we trust to the ardor of the spirit, in the same degree ought we to fear because of the infirmity of the flesh."

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

Mark

‘STRONG CRYING AND TEARS’

Mar 14:32 - Mar 14:42.

The three who saw Christ’s agony in Gethsemane were so little affected that they slept. We have to beware of being so little affected that we speculate and seek to analyse rather than to bow adoringly before that mysterious and heart-subduing sight. Let us remember that the place is ‘holy ground.’ It was meant that we should look on the Christ who prayed ‘with strong crying and tears,’ else the three sleepers would not have accompanied Him so far; but it was meant that our gaze should be reverent and from a distance, else they would have gone with Him into the shadow of the olives.

‘Gethsemane’ means ‘an oil-press.’ It was an enclosed piece of ground, according to Matthew and Mark; a garden, according to John. Jesus, by some means, had access to it, and had ‘oft-times resorted thither with His disciples.’ To this familiar spot, with its many happy associations, Jesus led the disciples, who would simply expect to pass the night there, as many Passover visitors were accustomed to bivouac in the open air.

The triumphant tone of spirit which animated His assuring words to His disciples, ‘I have overcome the world,’ changed as they passed through the moonlight down to the valley, and when they reached the garden deep gloom lay upon Him. His agitation is pathetically and most naturally indicated by the conflict of feeling as to companionship. He leaves the other disciples at the entrance, for He would fain be alone in His prayer. Then, a moment after, He bids the three, who had been on the Mount of Transfiguration and with Him at many other special times, accompany Him into the recesses of the garden. But again need of solitude overcomes longing for companionship, and He bids them stay where they were, while He plunges still further into the shadow. How human it is! How well all of us, who have been down into the depths of sorrow, know the drawing of these two opposite longings! Scripture seldom undertakes to tell Christ’s emotions. Still seldomer does He speak of them. But at this tremendous hour the veil is lifted by one corner, and He Himself is fain to relieve His bursting heart by pathetic self-revelation, which is in fact an appeal to the three for sympathy, as well as an evidence of His sharing the common need of lightening the burdened spirit by speech. Mark’s description of Christ’s feelings lays stress first on their beginning, and then on their nature as being astonishment and anguish. A wave of emotion swept over Him, and was in marked contrast with His previous demeanour.

The three had never seen their calm Master so moved. We feel that such agitation is profoundly unlike the serenity of the rest of His life, and especially remarkable if contrasted with the tone of John’s account of His discourse in the upper room; and, if we are wise, we shall gaze on that picture drawn for us by Mark with reverent gratitude, and feel that we look at something more sacred than human trembling at the thought of death.

Our Lord’s own infinitely touching words heighten the impression of the Evangelist’s ‘My soul is exceeding sorrowful,’ or, as the word literally means, ‘ringed round with sorrow.’ A dark orb of distress encompassed Him, and there was nowhere a break in the gloom which shut Him in. And this is He who, but an hour before, had bequeathed His ‘joy’ to His servants, and had bidden them ‘be of good cheer,’ since He had ‘conquered the world.’

Dare we ask what were the elements of that all-enveloping horror of great darkness? Reverently we may. That astonishment and distress no doubt were partly due to the recoil of flesh from death. But if that was their sole cause, Jesus has been surpassed in heroism, not only by many a martyr who drew his strength from Him, but by many a rude soldier and by many a criminal. No! The waters of the baptism with which He was baptized had other sources than that, though it poured a tributary stream into them.

We shall not understand Gethsemane at all, nor will it touch our hearts and wills as it is meant to do, unless, as we look, we say in adoring wonder, ‘The Lord hath made to meet on Him the iniquity of us all.’ It was the weight of the world’s sin which He took on Him by willing identification of Himself with men, that pressed Him to the ground. Nothing else than the atoning character of Christ’s sufferings explains so far as it can be explained, the agony which we are permitted to behold afar off.

How nearly that agony was fatal is taught us by His own word ‘unto death,’ A little more, and He would have died. Can we retain reverence for Jesus as a perfect and pattern man, in view of His paroxysm of anguish in Gethsemane, if we refuse to accept that explanation? Truly was the place named ‘The Olive-press,’ for in it His whole being was as if in the press, and another turn of the screw would have crushed Him.

Darkness ringed Him round, but there was a rift in it right overhead. Prayer was His refuge, as it must be ours. The soul that can cry, ‘Abba, Father!’ does not walk in unbroken night. His example teaches us what our own sorrows should also teach us-to betake ourselves to prayer when the spirit is desolate. In that wonderful prayer we reverently note three things: there is unbroken consciousness of the Father’s love; there is the instinctive recoil of flesh and the sensitive nature from the suffering imposed; and there is the absolute submission of the will, which silences the remonstrance of flesh. Whatever the weight laid on Jesus by His bearing of the sins of the world, it did not take from Him the sense of sonship. But, on the other hand, that sense did not take from Him the consciousness that the world’s sin lay upon Him. In like manner His cry on the Cross mysteriously blended the sense of communion with God and of abandonment by God. Into these depths we see but a little way, and adoration is better than speculation.

Jesus shrank from ‘this cup,’ in which so many bitter ingredients besides death were mingled, such as treachery, desertion, mocking, rejection, exposure to ‘the contradiction of sinners.’ There was no failure of purpose in that recoil, for the cry for exemption was immediately followed by complete submission to the Father’s will. No perturbation in the lower nature ever caused His fixed resolve to waver. The needle always pointed to the pole, however the ship might pitch and roll. A prayer in which ‘remove this from me’ is followed by that yielding ‘nevertheless’ is always heard. Christ’s was heard, for calmness came back, and His flesh was stilled and made ready for the sacrifice.

So He could rejoin the three, in whose sympathy and watchfulness He had trusted-and they all were asleep! Surely that was one ingredient of bitterness in His cup. We wonder at their insensibility; and how they must have wondered at it too, when after years taught them what they had lost, and how faithless they had been! Think of men who could have seen and heard that scene, which has drawn the worshipping regard of the world ever since, missing it all because they fell asleep! They had kept awake long enough to see Him fall on the ground and to hear His prayer, but, worn out by a long day of emotion and sorrow, they slept.

Jesus was probably rapt in prayer for a considerable time, perhaps for a literal ‘hour.’ He was specially touched by Peter’s failure, so sadly contrasted with his confident professions in the upper room; but no word of blame escaped Him. Rather He warned them of swift-coming temptation, which they could only overcome by watchfulness and prayer. It was indeed near, for the soldiers would burst in, before many minutes had passed, polluting the moonlight with their torches and disturbing the quiet night with their shouts. What gracious allowance for their weakness and loving recognition of the disciples’ imperfect good lie in His words, which are at once an excuse for their fault and an enforcement of His command to watch and pray! ‘The flesh is weak,’ and hinders the willing spirit from doing what it wills. It was an apology for the slumber of the three; it is a merciful statement of the condition under which all discipleship has to be carried on. ‘He knoweth our frame.’ Therefore we all need to watch and pray, since only by such means can weak flesh be strengthened and strong flesh weakened, or the spirit preserved in willingness.

The words were not spoken in reference to Himself, but in a measure were true of Him. His second withdrawal for prayer seems to witness that the victory won by the first supplication was not permanent. Again the anguish swept over His spirit in another foaming breaker, and again He sought solitude, and again He found tranquillity-and again returned to find the disciples asleep. ‘They knew not what to answer Him’ in extenuation of their renewed dereliction.

Yet a third time the struggle was renewed. And after that, He had no need to return to the seclusion, where He had fought, and now had conclusively conquered by prayer and submission. We too may, by the same means, win partial victories over self, which may be interrupted by uprisings of flesh; but let us persevere. Twice Jesus’ calm was broken by recrudescence of horror and shrinking; the third time it came back, to abide through all the trying scenes of the passion, but for that one cry on the Cross, ‘Why hast Thou forsaken Me?’ So it may be with us.

The last words to the three have given commentators much trouble. ‘Sleep on now, and take your rest,’ is not so much irony as ‘spoken with a kind of permissive force, and in tones in which merciful reproach was blended with calm resignation.’ So far as He was concerned, there was no reason for their waking. But they had lost an opportunity, never to return, of helping Him in His hour of deepest agony. He needed them no more. And do not we in like manner often lose the brightest opportunities of service by untimely slumber of soul, and is not ‘the irrevocable past’ saying to many of us, ‘Sleep on now since you can no more do what you have let slip from your drowsy hands’? ‘It is enough’ is obscure, but probably refers to the disciples’ sleep, and prepares for the transition to the next words, which summon them to arise, not to help Him by watching, but to meet the traitor. They had slept long enough, He sadly says. That which will effectually end their sleepiness is at hand. How completely our Lord had regained His calm superiority to the horror which had shaken Him is witnessed by that majestic ‘Let us be going.’ He will go out to meet the traitor, and, after one flash of power, which smote the soldiers to the ground, will yield Himself to the hands of sinners.

The Man who lay prone in anguish beneath the olive-trees comes forth in serene tranquillity, and gives Himself up to the death for us all. His agony was endured for us, and needs for its explanation the fact that it was so. His victory through prayer was for us, that we too might conquer by the same weapons. His voluntary surrender was for us, that ‘by His stripes we might be healed.’ Surely we shall not sleep, as did these others, but, moved by His sorrows and animated by His victory, watch and pray that we may share in the virtue of His sufferings and imitate the example of His submission.

Alexander MacLaren, Expositions of Holy Scripture (1904–1910) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

flesh See, Rom 7:18; Rom 7:21-24 See note, Jud 1:23 (See Scofield "Jud 1:23").

The Scofield Reference Bible (1917 edition), notes by C. I. Scofield — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

38. προσεύχεσθε ἵνα μή. Change from sing. to plur. Pres. imperat. of continuous prayer, and ἵνα μή is that … not (R.V.) rather than “lest” (A.V.). Here all three agree, and the words which follow again recall the Lord’s Prayer. But no Gospel, either here or elsewhere, states that Christ charged the disciples to pray for Him. They are to pray for themselves in their πειρασμοί, as He prays for Himself in His. But He prays for them also and for others (Joh 17:8; Joh 17:15; Joh 17:20). The contrast between Christ’s praying in His temptation and the disciples’ prayerless self-confidence (Mar 14:31), and subsequent slumber, is great.

πειρασμόν. The word occurs nowhere else in Mk, and nowhere at all in Jn. It is perhaps true that in N.T. πειρασμοί generally means trials sent by God rather than temptations sent by the evil one, but here the latter sense prevails. See Hort on 1Pe 1:6.

τὸ μὲν πνεῦμα πρόθυμον. This is quoted in the Ep. of Polycarp 7 as a Saying of Christ; see on Mar 9:35. Owing to Christ’s training of the disciples, their spiritual nature was ready to respond to Divine calls, but the weakness which is inherent in man’s lower nature still sometimes prevented the responsiveness from taking effect. Quantum de ardore mentis confidimus, tantum de carnis fragilitate timeamus (Bede). Human action requires the co-operation of spirit and flesh, and the flesh is often a clog to good action, or even an opponent to it (1Pe 2:11; cf. Rom 6:19; Rom 8:3; Rom 8:9). When the flesh is regarded as a successful opponent of the spirit, it may be said to be strong rather than weak. All depends upon the point of view.

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.

38. γρηγορεῖτε καὶ προσεῦχεσθε, ἵνα μὴ ἔλθητε εἰς πειρασμόν1—watch and pray, that you come not into temptation. In v. 34, he has enjoined watching on them in connection with his own awful sorrow. Now, without emphasizing the change, he enjoins it as necessary for themselves. And so now he adds prayer, and makes the object of both to be, that they enter not into temptation. The temptation is located not in external conditions, which constitute only a trial or test, but in the internal conditions, the evil desires of the heart, the weakness of the flesh. The outward attack on their steadfastness was right on them, and was not to be averted. They were to pray that this might not be an occasion of inward weakness, which would lead them into sin. Τὸ μὲν πνεῦμα πρόθυμον, ἡ δὲ σὰρξ ἀσθενής—The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. The πνεῦμα and the σάρξ are not contrasted elsewhere in this Gospel, nor in the teachings of Jesus. They denote the two extremes of human nature, πνεῦμα being the highest word used to describe the spiritual part of man, and hence, where distinctions are made within the soul itself, being the word used to denote the higher part; and σάρξ being used to denote the animal nature with its passions, and hence everything that belongs to the lower nature, everything that is debased and weak, whether proceeding from the flesh or not. The two terms cover much the same ground in this popular use as our terms higher and lower nature. Jesus is not pleading this as an excuse for his disciples’ sleepfulness, but as a reason why they should watch and pray. The spirit is πρόθυμον, eager, ready, to stand by me, even to death, as you have just shown in your protestations; but the flesh is weak, the lower nature fears death and danger, and that exposes you to temptation.

ἔλθητε, instead of εἰσέλθητε, enter, Tisch. WH. א* B 346, one ms. Lat. Vet.

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