And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground,” (Luke 22:44).
The grievous agony our Lord experienced under that dark blanket of night just prior to his arrest in Gethsemane’s Garden caused the physical phenomenon explained here in Luke 22. Why such an intense level of grief in the heart of God’s Son? Christ’s blood is set in Scripture as prophesy concerning all nations, his blood flowing to them, (Isa. 53), by flowing to all nations in the garden by blood and sweat. Alas, all of us have sinned, (Romans 5), and all of us are against the whole of Christ’s Law, in the whole man. And therefore, his agony will be so full, that he who is all in all and for all, (Col. 3:11), will answerably bleed throughout all of his whole body. He will not think that his self-sacrifice once offered for all, is complete enough, unless he first drenches it in a flood and shower of his own sweat and blood, (Heb 9:28). This dreaded apprehension was, without a doubt, exacerbated by the fact that he was perfect man, for the soundest body is the one most sensitive to pain. But he was not grieving only because of the physical pain he would soon suffer. Nor was it only because of the unspeakable truth that his spotless soul would soon be violated with the vilest filth. Rather, his deepest grief grew out of his knowledge that in the process he would suffer the avenging wrath and abandonment of his Father whom he loved with everything in him. Augustine gives the distinction best, that he was in this way to bleed for us, it was on our side, necessary, on his but voluntary; on ours a miserable necessity, on his but a consoling mercy.
It was determined in the mind of God, even before creation, that his only begotten Son would become the Son of Man because he must suffer the full extent of God’s wrath for sin. Christ must bleed and die because a guiltless blood sacrifice was the only remedy for our sin-wrecked nature and sin-dominated existence. If we had any chance of avoiding the just wrath of God ourselves, his sinless Son had to suffer in our stead. And it was here in the garden that Christ truly began tasting the bitter dregs of that cup of God’s wrath.
And yet, despite the extreme duress Christ was suffering that fateful night (Lam 1:12), he sought no means of escape (Matt. 26:53-54, Isa. 53:7). Rather, he cries out in brokenness to his Father, “If it is possible, let this cup pass,” (Matt. 26:39). Isaiah refers to this experience of Christ’s in the Garden as “the travail of his soul,” (Isa. 53:11) – a travail that reached to the depths of what mattered most to him, and that was to please his Father. For in John 4:34, he said, “My food is to do the will of him that sent me.”
He knew full well that this was the only way. It is not a thin faint sweat which he had, but one of great drops. And those so many, so violent, as they pierce not only Christ’s skin, but clothes too (Luke 22:44) and that in full streams to the ground. So, though utterly tormented (as the prophecy in Psalm 22:14 shows, “I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint: my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels”), Christ proceeds willingly from the Garden with the soldiers in order that he might fully carry out the terms of his contract of redemption with the Father (1 Peter 1:18-20). Might he not well then complain of his sweat, as of his sorrow, (Lam. 1:12), for was there ever sweat like this of his? But, he does not complain. Such hot irons of God’s Law had entered into his soul, (Psalm 105:18). How truly does it appear here in his blood? How justly too might he complain, that his soul was poured out (Psalm 22:14), both like wax and like water. And, yet, in fulfilment of his work, he becomes our Balm in Gilead (Jer. 8:22), the only cure for our wretched, otherwise hopeless state. Even as his bloody, balmy sweat falls to the ground, the barest wilderness of sin blossoms into a fruitful, fragrant garden of grace.
Contemplations:
- Lord, allow this fruitful shower of your blessed bloody sweat as it fell in a garden to plentifully fall on the garden of your church. Send forever, Lord, this gracious rain on your inheritance (Ps. 68:9) to refresh us when we are weary. Let this abundant, everlasting shower fall on your people so that our dry and barren wildernesses may become fruitful, fragrant gardens to you.
- It is said that the Romans found no such manure for their vines and gardens as the blood of Jews. How much better will your blood be for this vine, this garden of my soul? I pray that the water and blood of life that flows from You will grow those herbs of grace, the purging hyssop of repentance, the evergreen cedar of hope, even in the stormiest winter of adversity. Further, I ask for you to flourish in me the chamomile of patience, the marigolds of faith, those stooping violets of humility, and the embracing clasping honeysuckle of love.
- In that other garden where you lay for a short time entombed, the soldiers set a watch and seal to ensure that none might steal you from the tomb. So in this garden of my soul, Lord, set both the watchman of conscience and the seal of faith that nothing may steal you from me, but that you may ever say of it, as of your spouse, “a garden enclosed is my sister, a spring shut up, a fountain sealed,” (Song of Solomon 4:12).
Further references for Luke 22:44:
John 12:27; Heb. 5:7; Gen. 32:24; Psalm 22:1; 88:1
