"Father, What do You Want?"

"Father, What do You Want?"

^“Going a little ahead, he fell on his face, praying, ‘My Father, if there is any way, get me out of this. But please, not what I want. You, what do you want?’” Matthew 28:9

Jesus took His three closest associates on one final, intimate moment together. His arrest and crucifixion loomed large on the horizon, and late that evening He seeks His heavenly Father for solace, a bit of negotiating, and final submission to the plan set long ago for mankind’s freedom.

In His time among us, loving mankind and showing the world the extent of the Father’s love, Jesus endured opposition and name-calling from the very ones who should have known better. The caretakers of everything “religious” at the time were threatened my Jesus. Those who were considered “sinners” flocked to Him. His teaching had a depth of authority they tried to denounce over and over again, and always failed. He healed on the Sabbath, touched the unclean, and declared mankind, in all its miscreant ways, fully loved by God.

And now, as He faces the final hours of His public ministry, He seeks solitude, fellowship with His three most trusted friends, and intimate conversation with His Father. Jesus knows He will be crucified; He has told His disciples a number of times that He will suffer in Jerusalem, be nailed to a cross, die and rise again.

We who have followed Jesus for a while can get so used to the whole “crucified for our sins” bit, that it loses every bit of raw meaning for us. I didn’t see Mel Gibson’s “Passion of the Christ” for a number of reasons. But, the gut reactions of many during the whipping and crucifixion scenes are probably far closer than our ditties we sing on Sunday Mornings. I don’t mean we should all curl up in a fetal position and moan in agony when we think about His crucifixion, but it might do us good to give it deeper thought.

Think about the loneliness of this prayer. It says “going a little ahead” he prayed. This wasn’t a support group prayer, with three or four gathering around and holding hands. Though He brought his three closest disciples, he withdrew even from them to pray. As helpful as those times are, Jesus needed to face these final minutes in solitude. Just as with Christ, there are times when we need to be alone with the Father; to work out the difficulties ahead.

Think about Jesus’ humility. “He fell on his face.” Even though He would spill out His agony over the dreaded crucifixion, He shows His complete compliance with the Father’s will as He lays, face first, upon the ground. Our hearts, from the beginning of prayer, need to be ready to hear and respond to God, no matter His answer. “On our faces” is a way of saying “You are God” and “I am not”. If the Son of God found this posture appropriate, how much more we, His younger brothers and sisters.

Never forget that Jesus prayed to His “Father”. In His deepest trail, He called upon the depths of the Father’s compassion. He did not address Him as “Almighty” or “Lord”, but cried out to the Father who understands all. By faith, we have been adopted into the same family. Do not be severe with your heart during trials by approaching God as a Mighty Magistrate. Come to your Father whose compassion can flood the pain.

He persevered, praying three times. If Jesus can repeat the same prayer within the same day to the Father, it is no lack of faith for us to do the same. Even more so, we need to empty ourselves into the Father’s care; one reason for us to continue in prayer. We may say the right words, but we may not have prayed our entire self into His hands. So, when in agony or trial, come to Him again with the same complaint, and with the same submission to His will.

Which brings us to the climax of Jesus’ prayer: “But please, not I want…let it be what You want.” Prayer is meaningless if we think it is just a way to strong-arm God to behave the way we want. One thing that pain or trials do is blind us to the possibilities. We feel boxed in. Our options are fewer.

Seven years ago I was constantly active. I played tennis three or four times a week, took a forty minute walk about as often, and didn’t mind the half-hour drive to the nearest town to take my wife to dinner or visit someone in the hospital. I have not played tennis in over six years. To travel and sit down to a meal can drive my pain up a couple of notches from its regular barely tolerable level. I have discovered how narrow life becomes for those in chronic pain.

Jesus had one option, and only one option. That is, if He was going to obey the Father’s will. Granted, He knew the outcomes. But consider this; in that dark garden, moments before being arrested by a squad of Roman soldiers, Jesus prayed, absolutely defenseless against the events of the next few days. His life had narrowed to the tiny neck of the funnel. Any of us would grate at such powerlessness. And yes, I know Jesus could have called a legion of angels. But, to obey the Father, there was one choice and only one.

Can you bring yourself to believe Father God has a purpose in your pain? Jesus’ prayer in the garden is so instructive for me. I hope, as I meditate on His moments in the garden, that the same spirit of prayer that moved Him that night will also move myself and all who read this. I hope it will move us to understand the Father can bring something glorious out of our trials and know that even our pain has no power to hijack the Father’s will.