Matthew 26:39Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Through both His communications and His sufferings.

Concerning the expression, ‘My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me’ (Matthew 26:39), it is evident that Jesus Christ possessed a profound understanding of the circumstances surrounding His suffering, far surpassing that of the prophets. It cannot be asserted that Christ shunned suffering; this is manifested in His strongly worded rebuke to Peter, who sought to dissuade Him from it. Just prior to His crucifixion, He declared to the Father, ‘The hour has come; glorify Thy Son,’ suggesting that His glory was to culminate from the cross.

The miracles associated with the cross are notable. Those who misinterpret the phrase ‘My Father, if it be possible’ to affirm their erroneous beliefs, do so in vain. The prayer made by Christ was one of humanity, not divinity. The Father and the Son share the same will. The mystery of the incarnation is complex. Because this truth surpasses human understanding, God announced it through prophets. He appeared to the world, and in order to dispel rumors of being a ghost, He validated His true humanity by bearing all the burdens and afflictions of human existence, ultimately facing the death of the cross.

If signs as compelling as these did not convince Marcion, Valentinus, and Manes, how much less credence would have been given had He remained untouched by human weakness? Consequently, one would expect an even greater proliferation of falsehoods. The prophets foretold Christ’s crucifixion with precision, foreshadowing His resurrection, such as when the patriarch Jacob addressed His coming: ‘From lethorasel, my son, you have ascended’ (Genesis 49:9), signifying the purity of Mary. Additionally, he prophesied, ‘He lay down, asleep as a lion... who shall awaken him?’ referring to the death of Christ, equating it to rest and sleep, and thereby linking His resurrection to His death, asking rhetorically, ‘Who shall wake Him?’ Only He can. Christ affirmed, ‘I have power to lay My life down, and I have power to take it up again’ (John 10:18), declaring, ‘Destroy this temple, and I will raise it in three days’ (John 2:19).

What does it imply that He sleeps like a lion? Just as a lion remains formidable even when asleep, Christ was powerful not only before His passion, but also during and after, performing tremendous signs, such as darkening the sun, splitting rocks, shaking the earth, tearing the veil of the temple, and instilling fear into Pilate’s wife. She proclaimed, ‘Do nothing to that Righteous One, for I have suffered greatly for Him in a dream’ (Matthew 27:19), while Judas admitted, ‘I have sinned by betraying innocent blood’ (Matthew 27:4). This was followed by cosmic darkness during the day, an awakening of many departed saints (Matthew 27:52), indicating the formidable nature of Christ, even in death, which the patriarch confidently expressed by stating ‘fell asleep’—indicating certainty regarding the prophecy’s fulfillment.

The prophets frequently speak of the future as if it had already occurred, reflecting the certain realization of what they foretell. Consequently, David voices about the judgment, saying, ‘Why do the nations rage, and the people plot vain things? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers gather together against the Lord and against His anointed’ (Psalm 2:1-2). He did not merely refer to judgement and the details of the crucifixion, but also to the betrayer who dined with Christ, stating, ‘He who ate My bread lifted up his heel against Me’ (Psalm 41:10). He also prophesized the words spoken on the cross, ‘My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?’ (Psalm 22:2), and He speaks of His burial, saying, ‘They have laid me in the pit of the grave, in darkness, in the shadow of death’ (Psalm 88:7). Foretelling the resurrection, He declares, ‘For Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, nor will Thou allow Thy Holy One to see corruption’ (Psalm 16:10), and concerning the ascension, ‘God ascended with a shout, the Lord with the sound of a trumpet’ (Psalm 47:6).

In addition, regarding His exaltation at the right hand of the Father, ‘The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at My right hand, till I make Your enemies Your footstool’ (Psalm 110:1). Isaiah predicted the cross, stating, ‘He was oppressed and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth; He was led as a lamb to the slaughter’ (Isaiah 53:7), presenting future events as past to demonstrate the assured fulfillment of such prophecies. David also describes the judgment by affirming, ‘Why do the nations rage, and the peoples plot a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord and against His Anointed’ (Psalm 2:1-2). Not only does he mention the trial of Christ, His crucifixion, and the betrayal, but also the cry He uttered on the cross, ‘My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?’ (Psalm 22:2), along with the reference to His sepulcher, ‘They have laid me in the grave’ (Psalm 88:7), and the hope of resurrection, ‘For Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell’ (Psalm 16:10).

For if the prophets had such insight regarding the cross and its significance, the betrayal, the judgment, and its precise outcome, how could the One who sent them and commanded the proclamation remain unaware Himself? Who among the wise can say that? You should not dwell on mere superficial interpretations. Such thinking not only fosters confusion but also raises further questions. What does He mean when He states, ‘My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me’? It can appear as if He neither perceives the divine plan nor knowingly declines the path of suffering. The implication could be interpreted as a desire to avoid torture and death. Yet with great power, He performed miracles – healing the sick, raising the dead, calming storms, and so forth – and now asserts His fear of facing death? Should we not look to the resurrection promise in Him instead?

Christ makes clear that, despite His anguish, knowing full well the divine plan, His humanity is revealed in its struggle. This expression is a reflection of the depth of His consciousness regarding human fragility and mutual dependence on God's will. His plea underscores the necessity of divine will over earthly fears, teaching us that though we long to avoid suffering, ultimately we must yield to God's greater design for salvation. Thus, in His perfect obedience, Christ ultimately sought not His own desires, but aligned with the Father’s purpose.

The call here to bring our understanding into alignment with that profound truth is fundamental. Through the experiences that Christ accepted willingly, He also imparts a profound instruction for all disciples, guiding us not only to seek deliverance from trials but to trust in divine providence, and to embody the spirit of obedience even amidst sorrow. In the humility and authority of Christ, we find our strength transformed, leading us ultimately to resurrection life, a promise assured through His victory over death. Through our prayer and supplication, we strive to embody the spirit of Christ, above and beyond our mortal fears, knowing that God’s will is ultimately for our good and His glory. In this spirit, we seek to follow our Savior, humbly submitting our own desires to wait upon God’s design, assured that it culminates in eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

2:8), if He did not surrender Himself as the Apostle indicates: He who was given to be sacrificed for our transgressions (Gal. 1:4; 1 Tim. 2:6). But if His death was by His own choice, why would He need to utter, ‘Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me’? Therefore, these words should not be interpreted as reflections of Him alone; rather, they speak to those who have transgressed against Him, so that they might refrain from sinning. For them, even while on the cross, He proclaimed, ‘Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do’ (Luke 23:34). Hence, what is articulated in connection with the family of God should not be conflated with merely saying something.

"If it is possible, let this cup pass from Me." The One who spoke solely to the Father understood that although the cup might be taken away, He came with the purpose of drinking it for all humanity, to atone for the debts of those whom the prophets and deliverers could not save through their deaths. "Father, let this cup pass from Me." He who foretold His death through His prophets and patterned His self-sacrifice after the righteous knew that when the time came for Him to face death, He could not reject it or shy away from the cup. For had He truly wished to avoid it and refrained from accepting it, He would not have likened His body to a temple, declaring, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up" (John 2:19). Nor would He have asked the sons of Zebedee, "Can you drink the cup that I am about to drink?" (Matthew 20:22) or spoken of the baptism He must undergo (Luke 12:50) or referred to Himself being lifted up like Moses' serpent in the wilderness (John 3:14) or being in the heart of the earth like Jonah (Matthew 12:40) or affirming, "He must be killed and on the third day be raised to life" (Luke 9:22) or expressing His deep desire to partake of the Passover with them prior to His suffering (Luke 22:15) and indicating, "The Son of Man goes as it has been written of Him" (Matthew 26:24). Even in the evening of His last supper, He gave His body to His apostles and His blood to His disciples, commanding them to remember His suffering through these acts. How could the One who instructed His followers not to be afraid of death, saying, "And do not fear those who kill the body" (Matthew 10:28), express fear of death and seek for the cup to pass away from Him? The One who willingly embraced the months of gestation and the years of life on Earth, did He desire to evade the cup and render meaningless all that He had undergone when mere hours remained? While in Jerusalem, He proclaimed, intending to highlight the magnitude of His gifts: "If the miracles that were performed in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day" (Matthew 11:23). Yet Sodom faced destruction, which might have been averted had He appeared there. Despite this knowledge, He did not cancel His coming; how could He then in His arrival wish to forfeit the blessings stemming from His suffering, which if offered in the days of Lot, would have allowed Sodom and nearby cities to thrive? If He was willing to forego the cup for His people to prevent their downfall at His return, then surely He should have annihilated any other nation that would have betrayed Him, as that nation too would hand Him over to crucifixion. However, because the Jews disregarded His signs and wonders, their demise was not merely a result of His execution; they faced their fate even before His death occurred because they rejected His signs. "If it is possible, let this cup pass from Me." He spoke these words due to the frailty that enveloped Him; He did not assume a false nature but genuinely wore it. And if He truly bore weakness, it was natural He would fear and be troubled. Having taken on flesh and weakness, He experienced hunger, fatigue, and at times seemed powerless in sleep. When the moment of death arrived, it was fitting that He should exhibit the human response to such an imminent fate; for the dread of His forthcoming death overtook Him to reveal His nature as one of the lineage of Adam, over whom, as the apostle states, death reigned (Romans 5:14). "And He said to His disciples, Watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak" (Matthew 26:41). If the fear arises from the flesh when one is terrified, rather than the spirit, how then could I have feared death, unless it was to reveal to you this human fear which affects the flesh I inhabit? For if Simon, having been led to fear by a maid (Matthew 26:69), was unfazed by the Romans, yet resolutely urged them to crucify him with his eyes cast downward, and if the apostle, foreseeing his impending unnatural death, declared: "I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near" (2 Timothy 4:6), how could the Lord, who empowered the apostles to despise their death, say, "Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul" (Matthew 10:28)? His own fear would have led to confusion, appearing misaligned with His teachings. If fear were to arise, it would be expected at the moment of His arrest, not at any other juncture; yet at that moment, He healed the servant's ear (Luke 22:51). He commanded the sword to be sheathed, as He stated, "Put your sword back in its place" (Matthew 26:52). Alternatively, through these reflections, one can discern the essence of Christ’s prayer: "Not My will, but Yours be done." As through the Son the debts incurred were erased, bringing about the conversion of the nations, the Son did not intend to claim that grace which existed before time. Just as in the beginning, although all things were made through Him, He remained silent about it, and through Moses redirected focus by stating: "And God saw all that He had made, and it was very good" (Genesis 1:31); He did this so that every creature would acknowledge their indebtedness to the Father. Likewise, during the time of renewal, He relinquished all to death, affirming: "Your will be done," so that all who would find redemption through the Only Begotten’s death would owe their salvation to the Father. Or perhaps He spoke thus because, at the time of His bodily demise, He submitted to the natural order attributed to the flesh. Clearly, all His tribulation bore witness to His humanity, allowing the truth of His existence to manifest. Yet the heretical sects, despite witnessing these proofs of His humanity, remained unconvinced. Just as He felt hunger, thirst, fatigue, and slumber, He also experienced fear. Or He bore this sorrow to prevent men from believing that without suffering and valor, their transgressions were atoned for by Him. He aimed to instruct His disciples to fully surrender their lives and deaths to God. For if He, being wise, knelt down to pray regarding future events, how much more should faithless men trust their will to the All-Knowing God? Or, through His suffering, He sought to console those who feared death, adapting to their understanding to serve as a model for them, taking their anxieties upon Himself. He showed them that they should not hold an illusory view of death before its approach. For if He, capable of fearing nothing, did fear and sought release, even knowing such efforts were in vain, how much more should they pray before facing temptation, that they may find deliverance during trials? Recognizing that our thoughts tend to scatter amidst temptation, He prayed to demonstrate the necessity of prayer against temptations and the need for multiple prayers to gather our thoughts and focus. Furthermore, wishing to bolster the courage of those who feared death, He exhibited His own apprehension, teaching them that fear cannot consume them unless they allow it to dominate. This was encapsulated in His plea: "Not My will, Father, but Yours be done," meaning He willingly accepted death to rescue many. Or it may be understood that He faced suffering to both confront death and compel it to hasten its ultimate defeat. All of this transpired so that, in You, O Lord, whatever opposed death was vanquished. Your divinity was impervious to death and untouched by its claims. Although your Godhead was proclaimed, You momentarily veiled it in the guise of man. For whoever bore solely the mark of the first Adam yielded to death; yet whoever bears the mark of the second Adam is the master and conqueror of death. The first Adam, through consuming, succumbed to temptation, surrendering his will to the flesh, weakening and endangering his body, making it susceptible to death. The second Adam, however, through His steadfast will, empowered the flesh, redeeming it from death’s clutches. "Not as I will, but as You will," He expressed, countering Adam, who rejected the Creator's will in favor of the adversary's command, and therefore was left to the adversary’s dominion. The Lord chose the Father's will over the fleshly desires to affirm the Sovereign’s purpose, aware that all joy hinges upon the Father’s will. "Not My will be done, but Yours." Was there a divergence in His will compared to the Father’s? Why then did He utter, "Not My will be done, but Yours"? In another instance, He stated, "I came not to do My will but the will of Him who sent Me" (John 6:38). The Father’s intention is that "Of those whom You gave Me, I have lost none" (John 18:9). It is clear that His will is distinct. Isaiah declares, "It pleased the Lord to bruise Him and cause Him to suffer" (Isaiah 53:10) and also notes, "He bore the sin of many and made intercession for transgressors" (Isaiah 53:12), indicating that this was indeed His intention. How does one reconcile these views? The two wills are evident: the Lord’s and His own, though both converge in His actions. When the Lord aimed to assure His listeners that He was not under the coercive force of any external power, those misled perceived a contradiction in His will. St. Ephrem elucidates that Christ harbored no intention opposed to the Father’s will. Likewise, standing before Lazarus's tomb, He stated, "I thank You that You have heard Me and I know that You always hear Me, but for the sake of those standing here I said this, that they may believe that You sent Me" (John 11:41-42)—signifying that through their recognition, they would come to understand His divine origin. The same applies to all declarative statements made by Christ. To assert His union with the Father, He ascribed all acts to Him and, for His Father’s glory, chose to appear as if He required these actions, fulfilling them freely. There was no obligation compelling the Lord to endure degradation, ensuring that those who claimed He succumbed to darkness would feel shame. The forces of darkness acknowledged Him, declaring, "You are the Son of God" (Mark 3:11), pleading with Him not to cast them into hell. How could those who implored Him for deliverance from Gehenna claim victory over Him?

Thus, He does not merely express, “Let this cup pass from Me,” but specifically refers to “this cup”—the one that must not be sipped by the Jewish people, who cannot claim ignorance in their judgment against Him, since they possess the law and the prophets who consistently testify about Him. However, upon regaining His awareness, He acknowledges both as God and as the Son of God what, in His human nature, He had hesitated to accept: “Nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt.” In this, He distinguishes between His human desires and the divine purpose for which He descended from heaven to earth by God's will.

In essence, what is deemed impossible is that which God does not will or allow. His statement, ‘but not as I will, but as Thou wilt,’ reveals that while He shares the same will as God the Father in His divine nature, He also exhibits the human will, which instinctively recoils from death.

This sentiment is reinforced in Luke’s account where he articulates, "not my will, but Thy will be done." Mark records the Savior praying that, if it were possible, this hour of death might be averted, saying, "Abba Father, all things are possible to Thee; take this cup from me, but not what I will, but what Thou wilt." The term "Abba" translates to Father, capturing its significance. The statement, "I will not want it, but Thou wilt," is an incomplete thought, prompting the omission; the complete intention is clear: let it occur, not according to my desires, but according to Thy purpose. In Luke, it is stated, "Father, if Thou wilt, remove this cup from me," which likewise appears incomplete, as the phrase "by me" is excluded. The phrase "if it be possible" indicates permission, as it is natural for humanity to hesitate; yet as God, He was aware of what was or was not possible. It is likely that these sentiments were expressed in fragments, as it is common for prayers to convey similar thoughts in varied forms.

His intent was not to unleash divine retribution against His persecutors or to dominate His adversaries with power, but instead, through gentleness and patience, to bring about justice against His foes. Had He arrived employing His innate endurance, His miraculous deeds would have seemed unremarkable, as if God were in a struggle with a fallen angel. Yet, it is the adversary who furiously elevates himself, acting as if he were in conflict with God. It is remarkable that God, recognizing human frailty, dismantles the arrogance of the devil and grants us a triumph in defeat. It was not humanity that altered itself in ages past, but rather God as comprehended by the intellect, who risked capture, leading many to believe that the restoration of humankind would be arduous. However, the holy Word came in the nature of God, met the opponent and conquered him. As God, He grants us authority, exclaiming, ‘Behold, I have given you authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy.’

**Question. Why does the One who was Crucified choose to relinquish, asserting, ‘Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me’? Answer. It cannot be otherwise. Humanity cannot save itself, and divine nature is not subject to suffering. However, He—both God and man—is the union of the two natures, having been born divine-human from the Most Holy Virgin while preserving her integrity; He remains fully God and fully man. As He climbs to the Cross, He does not engage in any other nature, which is why at times He speaks as God and at other times as man, as deemed appropriate. In those moments, the adversary is powerless against Him, as evidenced by His words and miracles. God reveals Himself as capable of being subdued, yet when the devil comes to test His divinity, God veils His human nature, causing the adversary to tremble and flee. Thus, the Lord accomplishes His work through to crucifixion and death, where the entirety of divine victory is realized.

**My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me: Not as I will, but as Thou wilt. This prayer was directed to God not out of fear of suffering or a lack of hope in enduring it, but to exemplify to us devotion to the divine will, as He first instructed us in humility through His initial trials. He descended from heaven yet remained within it, lived among us on earth, and became like us, so that through His humility and life He might redeem us. He died for us, was buried, rose again, liberated the captives from hell, and ascended to the heights of heaven where He once dwelled. Therefore, my children, behold how greatly God the Word has loved us. He rescued us from hell and elevated us to the heights of heaven.

After such reflections, our kneeling prayers and acts of worship, which may feel burdensome at times due to our frailty or laziness, should indeed be made light and sweet. He lay prostrate on the ground... The earth was cursed as a consequence of Adam’s transgression; now, the Creator removes that curse. By falling upon the ground, His outstretched arms seem to embrace it, transforming it into a land of the living and a land of blessing. "Earth, earth," exclaims St. Demetrius of Rostov, "receive the Word: God the Word falls on His face before you as a friend, lamenting your past rebellion, and now embraces you again, welcoming you back into His heart." As He knelt with His face to the ground, He prayed, saying: MY FATHER! IF IT IS POSSIBLE—since all things are possible for You—let this cup be taken away from me; NOT AS I WILL, BUT AS YOU WILL. Philaret, the Metropolitan of Moscow, notes that when He asks for the cup to pass, He embodies His human nature, while expressing His unwavering resolve when He states, "Not as I will, but as You will," encouraging us to submit to God's will despite human hesitation.

But what do these fervent prayers, filled with tears and anguished cries, to Him who can deliver from death signify? It is undeniable that suffering poses a profound test for human flesh, yet the agony must have been far more intense for the pure body of the Redeemer, untainted by sin and therefore more acutely aware of suffering. Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow, asserts that He endured not just the illusion of suffering, but the full force of torment for many hours throughout that night and into the following day, exhibiting courageous steadfastness and majestic silence, only to express love and supplication for others rather than sorrow for Himself. Even when He cried out, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?", He quickly proclaimed in a triumphant voice: "It is finished!" Could this Lamb, sacrificed from the foundation of the world, flee from His appointed altar? The One sanctified by the Father and sent into the world (John 10:36), whom since eternity has borne the ministry of reconciling humanity to God, could He indeed be dissuaded from His sacred task by the specter of pain? If impatience existed, might it not have been a longing to achieve our salvation and ennoble us? He declared, “I must be baptized with a baptism, and how I desire for it to be fulfilled!” (Luke 12:50). Why, even before experiencing visible affliction, did He feel sorrow, dread, and anguish in His soul unto death? What bitterness resided in that foreboding cup which He both prayed to be spared from and simultaneously accepted, uttering: “Nonetheless, not as I will, but as You will”? Alas, this symbolizes the bitterness of our sins, the weight of our transgressions before God, and the plagues we have earned—all of which the Lamb of God took upon Himself to cleanse us from the sins of the world. Consequently, He grieved, mourned, and was troubled in His spirit unto death, not from His own distress but from bearing our grief (Isaiah 53:3-4). The cup His Father presented was so overwhelming that it could have drowned the entire world if it had not been perceived, sustained, and dried up by Him alone. This is the Son of Man praying under a burden of sorrow; this is His holy humanity crying out with the feelings of the saints yet also feeling the weight of humanity’s plight. All the sins of humanity, every iniquity to be faced, were laid upon Him alone. One sin is heavy; what of the sins exceeding the sand on the shores of the sea? How could our Lord remain unburdened under such a weight of sin?

Philaret, Archbishop of Chernigov, explains that He bore all the sins of human beings—from Adam's first transgression to the final blasphemies of Antichrist and his followers. He perceived all their ugliness and vileness against the holiness of God, which reflected upon His own pure spirit with unbearable turmoil. As the Reconciler of humanity, He stood before the formidable justice of God, who was administering judgment on Him for the sins He absorbed. The love of His heavenly Father was the most precious feeling to Him; how could He bear the shame and anger of His heavenly Father? For He made Him who knew no sin to become a sin offering for us, that we might be made righteous through Him (2 Cor. 5:21). The Redeemer had to endure every trial and temptation (Heb 4:15). Innocent, Archbishop of Kherson, notes that humanity is subjected to two types of temptation: that of pleasure and that of suffering. The initial temptation occurred at the dawn of His ministry when the devil tested the Son of Man in the wilderness. Yet, a more profound trial awaited Him, divided into two parts: Gethsemane and Calvary. Upon Golgotha, the Son of Man faced the cross, made visible to all, including His enemies. Thus, this cross had to be borne majestically, while the invisible cross of His mental anguish could not be revealed to every wicked gaze. Gradually, this inner suffering—perhaps the most painful aspect of His burden—descended upon Him in the solitude of Gethsemane, pressing Him down to the ground, causing Him to cry out for the cup to pass. This represented the amalgamation of all the agonies and deaths faced by humanity. The torment of guilt alone must have been overwhelming, akin to the tortures of hell; if even the most hardened individual is disturbed by the weight of a guilty conscience, what then must the pure soul of the God-Man have felt, when it was acutely aware of the sins of the entire world?

The resemblance of that impending cup of suffering, filled to the brim with mankind’s sins, the curse of the Law, and the wrath of heaven, made it unbearably dreadful. To compound the suffering, a vivid and compelling thought likely arose within the depths of God’s wisdom: that there existed means of achieving salvation without bringing the Son to the cross or lessening its unbearable severity, possibly deferring it for a future time. The devil might have intensified this internal struggle, acting as both servant and adversary, much as he once did with Job. At the end of the Supper, the Divine Sufferer proclaimed, "The prince of this world is coming" (John 14:30), and we might say, that He went forth to confront him. In the cloak of night within Gethsemane, our Savior, despondent and burdened by mental strife, fell as the last of Adam's descendants, filled with anguish and wrestling with temptation. St. Luke states that in His struggle, He prayed more fervently, and His sweat fell like drops of blood to the ground. The floodwaters once engulfed the wicked but did not wash away the iniquities upon the earth. The blood of innocent Abel cried out to heaven for vengeance, while the Savior's sweat fell with a plea for mercy and forgiveness. His sweat streamed as red drops mingling with the earth. St. Demetrius of Rostov inquires, "But who, O Lord, has wounded You so deeply without inflicting wounds upon Your body?" and answers: "It is love, a love as relentless as death, for all humanity!"

At that time, two emotions conflicted within the most sacred soul of our Savior: fear and love. The terror of the impending agony for humankind compelled Him to beseech His heavenly Father, "May this cup be taken from me!" Yet love yearned for that very cup of suffering, reaching out toward it, saying, "My Father, Your will be done!" Thus, the tension between fear and love drenched Him in blood. Job wisely said, "He who sows wickedness reaps sorrow," yet You, our gentle and meek Lord, do not sow evil, but reap affliction. Truly, Your words ring true: "In your sowing, you reap"—we sow sin, and You reaped the consequences! Indeed, the despair of hell overwhelmed His spirit, and a wave of sorrows enshrouded His soul in this moment of profound anguish. "O how thoughtless and apathetic are we, clinging to the sins that so tormented the Son of God!" Philaret, Archbishop of Chernigov, implores. "By Your sufferings, may we plea for fear against the sins that so deeply frighten You; fill our hearts with righteous indignation and a hatred for the wickedness that lives within our deceitful hearts!" In heartfelt sorrow, Jesus Christ pauses His prayer and approaches His beloved disciples to seek comfort in their presence and strengthen them with a word of caution. Yet, to His dismay, He finds them asleep, weighed down by their own sorrow.

If there were a way for the world to achieve salvation and Divine justice to be met without My anguish and crucifixion, which weigh heavily on My sinless human frame, I would implore You, my Heavenly Father, to spare Me from these torments. Yet, since salvation for the world cannot occur apart from these trials and death; and since in the eternal counsel, Your infinite wisdom has deemed this method of redemption vital, may Your will be done—not as I wish, constrained by my human nature, but according to Your wise and benevolent desire.