I know some of you don’t like your jobs. And I can understand why. You struggle to get up each day and return to a task that either bores you or wears you out or feels unproductive. But you do it anyway because you know that God honors hard work and you know you have an obligation to pay your bills and you know that others depend on you. I say this because I want to say Thank You to everyone at Bridgeway. Thank you for paying me to do something that I enjoy more than anything else in the world. I’m never bored with what I do. I never struggle to get up each day and resume my responsibilities as senior pastor of this church. I get worn out on a fairly regular basis, but that’s largely because I’m getting old. Sometimes I feel unproductive because I don’t see the fruit or results in some people’s lives that I had hoped to see. But aside from that, I can’t begin to imagine doing anything else than what I do. So, thank you!

Before we dive into the deep end of our Lord’s experience in the Garden of Gethsemane, you need to understand that he did it for you. You need to come to grips with the remarkable and mysterious truth that what motivated Jesus to persevere through the pain of Gethsemane was his love for you. Knowing what was in the heart of Jesus will make all the difference in the world when you turn to understand, make sense of, and appreciate what he did.

The anguish of Gethsemane is over. Jesus has pressed through, submitting his will to the will of his Father. He will drink the cup that is prepared for him, the cup of God’s righteous wrath and judgment against those for whom Jesus soon will give himself as a substitute on the cross.

There are a number of things in this world that make my blood boil. Like you, I become enraged when I hear of a child being abused, or perhaps of a wife being physically assaulted by her husband. My reaction when I hear of a vulnerable and elderly widow being scammed out of what little money she has provokes only a slightly less intense anger in my heart.

As I was studying and preparing this week to preach on this passage that concerns Jesus and Barabbas, it struck me that most non-Christians are likely to be perplexed as to why we would spend so much time and energy talking about something that happened 2,000 years ago. I suspect that even a few believers might wonder about that as well. After all, our country is in one of the worst financial crises in its history. Swept up in this Covid-19 pandemic, everything we’ve come to expect day in and day out has changed. Countless people have filed for bankruptcy and untold numbers of small businesses will likely never re-open.

Aside from a few notable biblical exceptions such as Enoch and Elijah, all people die. I suppose I should also include as exceptions to that otherwise unbreakable law the final generation of Christians who will be alive when Jesus returns. But, again, aside from these obvious and unusual exceptions, the law of life is that all people die.

As you know, there are significant differences between ancient forms of capital punishment and our modern approach to the issue. Today, every effort is made to sanitize the execution of a criminal. Elaborate steps are taken to ensure that his or her death be as painless and inoffensive as possible.

Wheaton College graduate and missionary Jim Elliot is most widely known for having lost his life trying to bring the gospel to the Auca Indians in the rainforest of Ecuador. If Elliot is known for anything else, it is the statement he made that largely accounts for why he was willing to sacrifice his own life for the sake of this Indian tribe. Said Elliot: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep, to gain what he cannot lose.”

I have a confession to make. There have been times in my Christian life when I’ve felt intimidated by the Great Commission (Matt. 28:18-20). When I think about the command of Jesus that we are to “go”, I worry that I might not have the required courage to obey. When I hear him tell us to “make disciples of all nations” and to “baptize” them, I feel profoundly inadequate. And when he exhorts us to “teach” others to observe or obey everything he has commanded, I realize that such applies equally to me. I am responsible not simply to “teach” others to obey but also to do so myself.

Aside from Judas Iscariot, who betrayed our Lord into the hands of his enemies and later committed suicide, the apostle who has had to endure the greatest assault on his character is Thomas. What do we know about this man, and why should we care? Do his life and experience and relation to Jesus have anything of practical value for us today? The answer, I assure you, is Yes!