Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 693
Delivered by C. H. Spurgeon, at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
“A place called Gethsemane.” Matthew 26:36.
THOUGH I have taken only these few words for my text, I shall endeavor to bring the whole narrative before your mind’s eyes. It is a part of the teaching of Holy Writ that man is a composite being—his nature being divisible into three parts—“spirit,” “soul,” and “body.” I am not going to draw any nice distinctions tonight between the spirit and the soul, or to analyze the connecting link between our immaterial life and consciousness and the physical condition of our nature and the materialism of the world around us. Suffice it to say that whenever our vital organization is mentioned, this triple constitution is pretty sure to be referred to.
If you notice it carefully, you will see in our Savior’s sufferings on our behalf that the passion extended to His spirit, soul, and body—and although at the last extremity upon the Cross it was hard to tell in which respect He suffered most, all three being strained to the utmost—yet it is certain there were three distinct conflicts in accordance with this threefold endowment of humanity. The first part of our Lord’s dolorous pain fell upon His spirit. This took place at the table in that upper chamber where He ate the Passover with His disciples. Those of you who have read the narrative attentively will have noticed these remarkable words in the thirteenth chapter of John and the twenty-first verse: “When Jesus had said these things, He was troubled in spirit, and testified and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray Me.”
Of that silent conflict in the Savior’s heart while He was sitting at the table no one was a spectator. Into any man’s spiritual apprehensions it was beyond the power of any other creature to penetrate. How much less into the spiritual conflicts of the Man Christ Jesus? No one could by any possibility have gazed upon these veiled mysteries! He seems to have sat there for a time like one in the deepest abstraction. He fought a mighty battle within Himself. When Judas rose and went out it may have been a relief. The Savior gave out a hymn as if to celebrate His conflict! Then, rising up, He went forth to the Mount of Olives.
His discourse with His disciples there is recorded in that wonderful chapter, the fifteenth of John, so full of holy triumph, beginning thus, “I am the true vine.” He went to the agony in the same joyous spirit like a conqueror, and oh, how He prayed! That famous prayer—what a profound study it is for us! It ought, properly, to be called “The Lord’s Prayer.” The manner and the matter are alike impressive. “These words spoke Jesus, and lifted up His eyes to Heaven and said, Father, the hour is come. Glorify Your Son, that Your Son also may glorify You.” He seems to have been chanting a melodious paean just then at the thought that His first battle had been fought—that His spirit, which had been troubled—had risen superior to the conflict, and that He was already victorious in the first of the three terrible struggles.
As soon as this had occurred there came another hour, and with it the power of darkness in which not so much the spirit as the soul of our blessed Lord was to sustain the shock of the encounter. This took place in the garden. You know that after He had come forth triumphant in this death struggle He went to the conflict more expressly in His body, undergoing in His physical Nature the scourging, the spitting and the Crucifixion—although in that third case there was a grief of spirit and an anguish of soul likewise which mingled their tributary streams. We would counsel you to meditate upon each separately, according to the time and the circumstance in which the pre-eminence of any one of these is distinctly referred to.
This second conflict which we have now before us well deserves our most reverent attention. I think it has been much misunderstood. Possibly a few thoughts may be given us tonight which shall clear away the mist from our understanding and open some of the mystery to our hearts. It seems to me that the agony in the garden was a repetition of the temptation in the wilderness. These two contests with the Prince of Darkness have many points of exact correspondence.
If carefully pondered you may discover that there is a singular and striking connection between the triple temptation and the triple prayer. Having fought Satan at the first in the wilderness, on the threshold of His public ministry, our Lord now finds him at the last in the garden as He nears the termination of His mediatorial work on earth.
Keep in mind that it is the soul of Jesus of which we now speak while I take up the several points consecutively, offering a few brief words on each. THE PLACE OF CONFLICT has furnished the theme of so many discourses that you can hardly expect anything new to be said upon it. Let us, however, stir up your minds by way of remembrance. Jesus went to the GARDEN to endure the conflict because it was the place of meditation. It seemed fit that His mental conflict should be carried on in the place where man is most at home in the pensive musings of his mind—