Anguish
"An Angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.”
Luke 22:43-44
From reflections on Jesus birth and baptism earlier I soon found myself at the other end of his ministry in the passage above, and couldn’t escape the fact that the angel didn’t actually solve everything and the emotion that Jesus wrestled with was incredibly deep.
Sometimes we demand the magic wand when we pray. We ask God to solve everything for us and it is wonderful when we see these miracles happen. The times that I have seen the Spirit work so powerfully are etched in my mind but so are the struggles that I have worked through when the answers have not come so easily. And I don’t have the answers to those hard questions now but I was really struck by the fact that even Jesus wasn’t immune to to this issue.
The angel came from heaven and ministered to Jesus, bestowing God’s strength for the task ahead. And then … nothing! He was still in anguish. Surely if an angel had come and poured out all of this strength then Jesus should have jumped up and jogged to the cross, ready for all that the world was about to throw at him, empowered for the earthly fulfilment of his ministry. Instead, he bowed his head once more and sweated blood because of the anguish in his heart. A visit from an angel and all of that strength and still the anguish.
“I’ll pray for you” we say, honestly praying that illness will be cured, darkness banished and problems solved but missing the answers that are sometimes unseen. Jesus was alone. He took his friends with him but he actually withdrew further, and they slept anyway! He sat alone and he faced things that he must endure alone and he prayed ... and an angel came - and all of a sudden Jesus is not alone. I have struggled alone, as I think most of us have, and there is something that magnifies the anguish. Having someone present with you, even if they are silent, provides a release, a sharing, a bond across which the anguish passes and there is release. Alone we stew, and the anguish festers, and the pain builds. Jesus prayed and the angel came and then he was not alone. There is no biblical basis to my next comment but I want to think that the angel actually never left his side to the cross and beyond. The anguish was there but it was shared and accordingly he was given the strength to continue.
The second thing that struck me in this passage was the whole idea of anguish. I am not sure what got me going on this but I soon found myself in an actual place called agony. Having looked up the greek word translated as anguish - αγωνια (agonia) - I found that the roots of the word took me back a couple of steps. Αγων (agon) is a place of contest, a stadium, a place where battle is done with αγω (ago) being the primary verb in the chain - to lead, to drive or to go.
The dictionary told me that (in English) anguish is a severe mental or physical pain. Considering the greek we actually start to see anguish as not just a feeling of pain but as a journey and a place of battle. It is not just something that we endure, it is a place where we might spend time, no matter how brief that time may be. Nor is it a place that we drop in and out of, there is a sense of journey to the pain that is felt. The journey of anguish can be long and laboured or it could be quick, but it is not a simple emotion, it is a process and a place where we dwell for a while, a place where we end up fighting spiritual, emotional and personal battles.
I say “dwell for a while” though because being in a place offers the opportunity to leave it. Taking into account those in prison for whole life terms and the incredible injustice in the world, not even prison is a place of permanent dwelling. There is a way out of every place, not necessarily immediate but still a way out. And similarly this place called agony or anguish is not a place of permanent dwelling. When Jesus went to the cross, with or without the angel, the anguish was magnified, death came and Christ himself proclaimed “it is finished”. Three days later hope won through for even death could not hold Him. For Christ, even the grip of hell and death was not permanent. So too are we offered a way out of that place called agony, for in all things love wins.
Some of us might feel that we are in that place of battle at the moment, some may be leaving and some will not be sure where on that journey they are. The thing is, only one things is permanent, and that is the eternal life that is offered through the resurrection. This place called agony is only temporary for love wins and eternity beckons. I have spent the last few days being reminded of the gift of hope with people who give me hope. My prayer tonight is that God will place the people in your life who bring hope, the hope that leads you out of the place of anguish and beckon you on to eternity.
![]()
Luke 22:43-44
From reflections on Jesus birth and baptism earlier I soon found myself at the other end of his ministry in the passage above, and couldn’t escape the fact that the angel didn’t actually solve everything and the emotion that Jesus wrestled with was incredibly deep.
I’ll pray for you...
Sometimes we demand the magic wand when we pray. We ask God to solve everything for us and it is wonderful when we see these miracles happen. The times that I have seen the Spirit work so powerfully are etched in my mind but so are the struggles that I have worked through when the answers have not come so easily. And I don’t have the answers to those hard questions now but I was really struck by the fact that even Jesus wasn’t immune to to this issue.
The angel came from heaven and ministered to Jesus, bestowing God’s strength for the task ahead. And then … nothing! He was still in anguish. Surely if an angel had come and poured out all of this strength then Jesus should have jumped up and jogged to the cross, ready for all that the world was about to throw at him, empowered for the earthly fulfilment of his ministry. Instead, he bowed his head once more and sweated blood because of the anguish in his heart. A visit from an angel and all of that strength and still the anguish.
“I’ll pray for you” we say, honestly praying that illness will be cured, darkness banished and problems solved but missing the answers that are sometimes unseen. Jesus was alone. He took his friends with him but he actually withdrew further, and they slept anyway! He sat alone and he faced things that he must endure alone and he prayed ... and an angel came - and all of a sudden Jesus is not alone. I have struggled alone, as I think most of us have, and there is something that magnifies the anguish. Having someone present with you, even if they are silent, provides a release, a sharing, a bond across which the anguish passes and there is release. Alone we stew, and the anguish festers, and the pain builds. Jesus prayed and the angel came and then he was not alone. There is no biblical basis to my next comment but I want to think that the angel actually never left his side to the cross and beyond. The anguish was there but it was shared and accordingly he was given the strength to continue.
… in your anguish.
The second thing that struck me in this passage was the whole idea of anguish. I am not sure what got me going on this but I soon found myself in an actual place called agony. Having looked up the greek word translated as anguish - αγωνια (agonia) - I found that the roots of the word took me back a couple of steps. Αγων (agon) is a place of contest, a stadium, a place where battle is done with αγω (ago) being the primary verb in the chain - to lead, to drive or to go.
The dictionary told me that (in English) anguish is a severe mental or physical pain. Considering the greek we actually start to see anguish as not just a feeling of pain but as a journey and a place of battle. It is not just something that we endure, it is a place where we might spend time, no matter how brief that time may be. Nor is it a place that we drop in and out of, there is a sense of journey to the pain that is felt. The journey of anguish can be long and laboured or it could be quick, but it is not a simple emotion, it is a process and a place where we dwell for a while, a place where we end up fighting spiritual, emotional and personal battles.
I say “dwell for a while” though because being in a place offers the opportunity to leave it. Taking into account those in prison for whole life terms and the incredible injustice in the world, not even prison is a place of permanent dwelling. There is a way out of every place, not necessarily immediate but still a way out. And similarly this place called agony or anguish is not a place of permanent dwelling. When Jesus went to the cross, with or without the angel, the anguish was magnified, death came and Christ himself proclaimed “it is finished”. Three days later hope won through for even death could not hold Him. For Christ, even the grip of hell and death was not permanent. So too are we offered a way out of that place called agony, for in all things love wins.
Some of us might feel that we are in that place of battle at the moment, some may be leaving and some will not be sure where on that journey they are. The thing is, only one things is permanent, and that is the eternal life that is offered through the resurrection. This place called agony is only temporary for love wins and eternity beckons. I have spent the last few days being reminded of the gift of hope with people who give me hope. My prayer tonight is that God will place the people in your life who bring hope, the hope that leads you out of the place of anguish and beckon you on to eternity.
Thank you for being there to share some of the anguish, and for being one of the hope-giving people :)
ReplyDelete