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The Spirit of Prophecy Volume 3
A few hours before, Jesus had stood like a mighty cedar, withstand-
ing the storm of opposition that spent its fury upon him. Stubborn
wills, and hearts filled with malice and subtlety strove in vain to con-
fuse and overpower him. He stood forth in divine majesty as the Son of
God. But now he was like a bruised reed beaten and bent by the angry
storm. A short time before, he had poured out his soul to his disciples
in noble utterances, claiming unity with the Father, and giving his elect
church into his arms in the language of one who had divine authority.
Now his voice uttered suppressed wails of anguish, and he clung to
the cold ground as if for relief.
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The words of the Saviour were borne to the ears of the drowsy dis-
ciples: “O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I
drink it, thy will be done.” The anguish of God’s dear Son forced drops
of blood from his pores. Again he staggered to his feet, his human
heart yearning for the sympathy of his companions, and repaired to
where his disciples were sleeping. His presence roused them, and
they looked upon his face with fear, for it was stained with blood, and
expressed an agony of mind which was to them unaccountable.
He did not again address them, but, turning away, sought again his
retreat and fell prostrate, overcome by the horror of a great darkness.
The humanity of the Son of God trembled in that trying hour. The
awful moment had arrived which was to decide the destiny of the
world. The heavenly hosts waited the issue with intense interest. The
fate of humanity trembled in the balance. The Son of God might even
then refuse to drink the cup apportioned to guilty men. He might
wipe the bloody sweat from his brow, and leave men to perish in their
iniquity. Will the Son of the Infinite God drink the bitter potion of
humiliation and agony? Will the innocent suffer the consequence of
God’s curse, to save the guilty? The words fall tremblingly from the
pale lips of Jesus: “O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from
me, except I drink it, thy will be done.”
Three times has he uttered that prayer. Three times has humanity
shrunk from the last crowning sacrifice. But now the history of the
human race comes up before the world’s Redeemer. He sees that
the transgressors of the law, if left to themselves, must perish under
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the Father’s displeasure. He sees the power of sin, and the utter
helplessness of man to save himself. The woes and lamentations of a
doomed world arise before him. He beholds its impending fate, and his