Surely there’s not a man that lived on this earth who is remotely close to being worthy to be given relief in this life than the Lord Jesus Christ, yet even to the Son, God said “no”. How would you fare, dear reader, when confronted with indescribable pain and suffering?
Does your faith, your theology and your character allow you to be prepared to accept such affliction purposed by God? Or would you, like many miserable men and women, be surprised by suffering?
The Scandal of a Suffering Christ
That the Son of God should suffer was unthinkable to many of His contemporaries. To the Greeks it was a stumbling block. Their idea of God was so spiritual, so ethereal, that they had no room for the concept of Incarnation. God could never be involved with physical suffering simply because God could never be involved with anything physical.
The scandalous news of the New Testament is that God became incarnate. The eternal, divine Word was made flesh. That flesh was vulnerable to all physical torment.
Yet it was not only the Greeks who were scandalized by such a thought. That God should appear in human form was thinkable to the Jews. But that the humanness could actually suffer was beyond their comprehension.
Following the moment of Peter’s greatest confession at Caesarea Philippi came one of the sharpest rebukes he ever heard from Jesus. In answer to Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15), Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16).
For this response Peter received the benediction of Jesus:
“Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven. And I also say to you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build My church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it.“—Matthew 16:17-18
What higher commendation could a man receive than to receive such a blessing from Christ Himself? Yet moments later this same man received a stinging rebuke from Jesus:
“Get behind Me, Satan: You are an offense to Me, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men.“—Matthew 16:23
These words were spoken not to Satan but to Peter. The dialogue here is volatile. One moment Jesus puts His benediction upon Simon Peter, and the next moment He calls him “Satan.” How can we explain this dramatic shift in tone and words? Jesus was not given to undue severity in His treatment of people. Neither was He two-faced, praising with one side of His mouth and cursing with the other.
This shift of speech must be understood in light of the interval that passed between commendation and rebuke. The interval contained an exchange between Peter and Jesus regarding suffering:
“From that time Jesus began to show to His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day.“—Matthew 16:21
We notice here that Jesus was showing that He must suffer and die. His trip to Jerusalem was not optional. He had a destiny to fulfill, a rendezvous on Golgotha. This “mustness” was rooted in His vocation. He was called to perform a task. It was His duty to suffer and die.
It was precisely at this point of duty that Peter challenged Him: “Then Peter took Him aside and began to rebuke Him, saying, ‘Far be it from You, Lord; this shall not happen to you!’” (Matthew 16:22).
At least Peter had the grace to rebuke his Lord privately. He didn’t flaunt his arrogance publicly, though the Holy Spirit has entered his unspeakable presumption in the public record of Scripture.
“Far be it from you, Lord.” Peter demanded that Jesus distance Himself from suffering and death. Jesus recognized in this demand the same seductive suggestion that Satan offered in the wilderness. Peter wanted a Savior unsullied by suffering. He wanted the Kingdom to come Satan’s way rather than God’s way. God’s way was the way of the cross, the Via Dolorosa.
Theologians argue about when in Jesus’ life it entered His consciousness that He must suffer and die. The Bible makes it clear that the idea was formulated long before Caesarea Philippi. The concept was foreshadowed as early as Genesis 3:15: “And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her Seed; He shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise His heel.” This is the Protevangelium, the first hint of the gospel that was to come.
The idea of a suffering Messiah was greatly expanded in the Suffering Servant motif of Isaiah. It was prophesied to Mary by the venerable prophet Simeon in the temple: “Behold, this Child is destined for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign which will be spoken against (yes, a sword will pierce through your own soul also), that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:34-35).
We don’t know exactly when Jesus became aware of His destiny, but His mother received a foreshadowing of a piercing sword in the first weeks of His life. At age twelve Jesus declared that He must be about His Father’s business. By then He was aware of a mustness, a duty that was His to perform. Whether He realized the full import of that duty at such an early age is a matter of conjecture. But certainly by the time He arrived at the Garden of Gethsemane it was no surprise.
In the Garden He entered into His sorrow. He said to His disciples, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with Me” (Matthew 26:38).
The Scriptures tell us that after saying these words Jesus went farther into the olive grove and fell on His face as He prayed: “0 My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will” (Matthew 26:39). Luke adds to the historical record these words: “And being in agony, He prayed more earnestly. And His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground” (Luke 22:44).
Accepting God’s “No” as God’s Will
We are astonished that in the light of such clear biblical records anyone would ever have the audacity to suggest that it is wrong for the afflicted in body or soul to couch their prayers for deliverance in terms of “If it be thy will.” We are told that when affliction comes God always wills healing. That He has nothing to do with suffering, that all we must do is claim the answer we seek by faith. We are exhorted to claim God’s “Yes” before He speaks it.
Away with such distortions of biblical faith! They are conceived in the mind of the Tempter who would seduce us into changing faith into magic. No amount of pious verbiage can transform such falsehood into sound doctrine.
God sometimes says no. Sometimes He calls us to suffer and die even if we want to claim the contrary. Never did a man pray more earnestly than Christ prayed in Gethsemane. Who will charge Jesus with failure to pray in faith? He put His request before the Father with sweat of blood: “Let this cup pass from me.”
Jesus’ prayer was straightforward and without ambiguity. He cried out for relief. He asked for the horribly bitter cup to be removed. Every ounce of His humanness shrank from the cup. He begged the Father to relieve Him of His duty. But God said no. The way of suffering was the Father’s plan. It was the Father’s will. It was His pure unadulterated will. The cross was not Satan’s idea. The passion of Christ was not the result of human contingency. It was not the accidental contrivance of Caiaphas, Herod, or Pilate. The cup was prepared, delivered, and administered by Almighty God.
Jesus qualified His prayer: “If it be thy will…” Jesus did not “name it and claim it.” He knew His Father well enough to know that it might not be His will. The story does not end with the words, “And the Father repented of the evil He had planned, removed the cup, and Jesus lived happily ever after.”
Such words border on blasphemy. The gospel is not a fairy tale. The Father would not negotiate the cup. Jesus was called to drink it to its last dregs. And He accepted it. “Nevertheless, not My will, but Yours, be done” (Luke 22:42).
This “nevertheless” was the supreme prayer of faith. The prayer of faith is not a demand that we place upon God. It is not a presumption of a granted request. The authentic prayer of faith is one that models Jesus’ prayer. It is always uttered in a spirit of subordination. In all our prayers we must let God be God. No one tells the Father what to do, nay, not even the Son. Prayers are always to be requests made in humility and submission to the Father’s will.
The prayer of faith is a prayer of trust. The very essence of faith is trust. We trust that God knows what is best. The spirit of trust includes a spirit of willingness to do what the Father wants us to do. That kind of trust was embodied by Christ in Gethsemane.
Though the text is not explicit, it is clear that Jesus left the garden with the Father’s answer to His plea. There was no cursing or bitterness. His meat and His drink were to do the Father’s will. Once the Father said no, it was settled. Jesus prepared Himself for the cross. He did not flee from Jerusalem but entered the city with His face set like a flint.
—R.C. Sproul, (1996, c1988). Surprised by Suffering. Wheaton, Ill.: Tyndale House Publishers.
Purchase the book “Surprised by Suffering” here, or read more here.
