He was heard in that he feared. — Heb 5:7
Did this fear arise from the infernal suggestion that He was utterly forsaken. There may be sterner trials than this but surely it is one of the worst to be utterly forsaken? “See,” said Satan, “you have a friend nowhere! Your Father has shut up the affections of His compassion against you. Not an angel in His courts will stretch out his hand to help you. All heaven is alienated from You; You are left alone. See the companions with whom You have taken sweet counsel, what are they worth? Son of Mary, see there Your brother James, see there Your beloved disciple John, and Your bold apostle Peter—how the cowards sleep—when You are in Your sufferings! Lo! You have no friend left in heaven or earth. All hell is against You. I have stirred up my infernal den. I have sent my missives throughout all regions summoning every prince of darkness to set upon You this night, and we will spare no arrows, we will use all our infernal might to overwhelm You! And what will You do, You solitary one?”
It may be, this was the temptation; we think it was, because the appearance of an angel unto Him strengthening Him removed that fear. He was heard in that He feared; He was no more alone but heaven was with Him. It may be that this is the reason of His coming three times to His disciples — as Joseph Hart puts it — “Backwards and forwards thrice He ran—as if He sought some help from man.” He would see for Himself whether it were really true that all men had forsaken Him; He found them all asleep; but perhaps He gained some faint comfort from the thought that they were sleeping, not from treachery but from sorrow, the spirit indeed was willing but the flesh was weak. At any rate, He was heard in that He feared. Jesus was heard in His deepest woe; my soul—you shall be heard also.
In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit. — Luke 10:21
The Savior was “a man of sorrows,” but every thoughtful mind has discovered the fact that down deep in His innermost soul—He carried an inexhaustible treasury of pure and heavenly joy. Of all the human race, there was never a man who had a deeper, purer, or more abiding peace—than our Lord Jesus Christ. “He was anointed with the oil of gladness above His fellows.” His vast benevolence must, from the very nature of things, have afforded Him the deepest possible delight—for benevolence is joy.
There were a few remarkable seasons when this joy manifested itself. “At that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank you, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth.” Christ had His songs, though it was night with Him; though His face was marred, and His countenance had lost the luster of earthly happiness—yet sometimes it was lit up with a matchless splendor of unparalleled satisfaction, as He thought upon the recompense of the reward, and in the midst of the congregation sang His praise unto God. In this, the Lord Jesus is a blessed picture of His church on earth. At this hour the church expects to walk in sympathy with her Lord along a thorny road; through much tribulation she is forcing her way to the crown. To bear the cross is her office, and to be scorned and counted an alien by her mother’s children—is her lot; and yet the church has a deep well of joy, of which none can drink but her own children. There are stores of wine, and oil, and corn, hidden in the midst of our Jerusalem, upon which the saints of God are evermore sustained and nurtured; and sometimes, as in our Savior’s case, we have our seasons of intense delight, for “There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of our God.” Exiles though we are, we rejoice in our King! Yes, in Him we exceedingly rejoice, while in His name we set up our banners.
Morning and Evening - March 24
Public domain content taken from Morning and Evening by Charles H. Spurgeon.