Jesus reminds us that our calling as Christians is to follow him, and that following him includes following him to the cross, not as spectators but as participants in suffering for the sake of the world.
Hebrews 5:5-10 gives us an intensely human portrait of Jesus; one filled with mental anguish, the dread of anticipated suffering, pleading for mercy and, finally, resignation to his fate.
In verse 7, the Greek word “sarx” is used. It means meat — bones and blood and muscle. It is a declaration of Jesus’ very real humanity. The verse continues, “…Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears…”
Many rabbis taught that there were three levels of prayer:
- Prayers — verbal or silent, thought out and controlled
- Loud cries — shouting at God in anger or anguish
- Tears — pure emotion and pain
Hebrews shows us Jesus engaged in all three but most especially loud cries and tears, pouring out his fear and pain to God. One who feels no pain and no fear, one who is not “human,” does not weep and cry before God.
The verse continues: “…to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard.”
Jesus knew that the path he was on led to death, to the cross. Jesus also knew that God could save him from this end. And Jesus was not afraid to let his fears and feelings be known, to God and to others.
What agony he must have felt. You could save me if you would, but you won’t! Why won’t you? Why won’t you? My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Now, Hebrews 5:7 says he was heard — and yet, he died. Died in agony upon the cross. What kind of hearing is that?
When I was about 12 or 13 I was in the Boy Scouts. One night at Scouts we were running a race and I tripped. I fell face down in gravel on the side of the road. I lodged a piece of gravel under the skin on my forehead.
The rural medical clinic was a mile or so down the road from our meeting place. The doctor and my father were both assistant Scoutmasters so they gathered me up and took me to the clinic.
The doctor was good but his bedside manner was a bit on the brusque side. As I lay there on that cold, hard, metal table, he came at me with a huge needle to numb my forehead. I am still not very fond of needles, but then I was deathly afraid of them.
I looked over at my daddy and began to cry out, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, please Daddy. Don’t let him hurt me, please Daddy. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.”
The doctor threw a leg over me to hold me down, put his left arm down on my chest and proceeded to inject the needle. All the while I continued to cry and beg and plead for my daddy to make him stop. And just as the needle entered I saw my daddy’s hands, knuckles white as he clutched my jacket. I looked up and saw a tear in the corner of his eye. It was the only time I ever, ever saw him cry.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. I was heard, oh yes, I was heard. And I was denied.
Hebrews 5:8-9: “Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered, and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.”
Here is a great mystery of the faith. Wherever we are, God in Christ has been there — fully, completely, totally.
Think about the most scared, lonely and troubled you have ever been.
And Jesus has been there.
Think about the moments when you have felt ignored and abandoned by God.
And Jesus has been there.
Think about all the times when you just did not know if you could make it.
And Jesus has been there.
The promise of the gospel is not that if you are a Christian life will be easy.
The gospel is not about ways to make your life, your marriage, your career, your children or anything else work out in a way pleasing to yourself.
The gospel is the call to follow Jesus to the cross and beyond.
To follow Jesus in serving the poor and needy.
To follow Jesus in reaching out to the despised and rejected.
To follow Jesus in standing up for those who are oppressed and ill-served by the world.
To follow Jesus in fighting against illness and evil wherever they may be found.
And sometimes following Jesus to the cross means we will suffer for our commitments, that we too will be rejected and scorned as much as those with whom we take our stand.
Christ calls us to follow him.
It is not an easy way.
It is not a painless path.
It is not likely to be smooth sailing.
It is the Way of the Cross.
And the promise of the gospel is that where God calls us to go, Jesus has already been, and as we go, Jesus is going with us.
Delmer Chilton is an assistant to the bishop of the Southeastern Synod of the ELCA, with responsibility for eastern and central Tennessee, northern Alabama and northern Georgia. Ordained in 1977, he has served parishes in North Carolina, Georgia and Tennessee.
