Let This Cup Pass
- Jason Garcia
- Jun 2
- 7 min read

Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane prompts many questions:
What exactly was He praying for?
Was He afraid to die?
Was He hesitating at the last moment?
What can we learn about how we should pray?
These aren't academic questions—the answers matter.
In this moment of deep anguish, Jesus teaches us crucial lessons about trust, submission, and prayer.
But to understand them, we first need to grasp what He meant when He said, “Let this cup pass from Me.”
To understand that, we need to look back at what Jesus said about Himself—His identity, work, and what He ultimately came to accomplish.
How He Saw Himself
Why is this relevant to understanding His prayer in Gethsemane?
These passages teach us He wasn’t caught off guard. He knew the mission, the cost, and the necessity of it all. But as a human, He would still feel the full weight of that suffering.
His prayer wasn’t rooted in fear or doubt—it was the honest cry of One who fully understood both the will of God and the suffering entailed in His obedience.
Many false teachings have been read into this text—some use it to deny Jesus’ full humanity, others (ironically) to question His divinity. We have to interpret His words in Gethsemane in light of the truth: He was both fully God and fully man. Any interpretation that ignores that reality is already on the wrong track.
Jesus knew exactly who He was.
He knew He was God in the flesh (Jn. 1:1–3).
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being.
He knew this from the beginning (Lk. 2:49).
He said to them, “Why is it that you were looking for Me? Did you not know that I had to be in My Father’s house?”
He openly called Himself God’s Son (Jn. 5:18).
For this reason therefore the Jews were seeking all the more to kill Him, because He not only was breaking the Sabbath, but also was calling God His own Father, making Himself equal with God.
He declared His existence before the world began (Jn. 17:4–5).
I glorified You on the earth, having accomplished the work which You have given Me to do. Now, Father, glorify Me together with Yourself, with the glory which I had with You before the world was.
That’s the Truth—but false teaching still abounds.
Docetism taught that Jesus was divine but not truly human because, so the argument goes, "God can’t suffer."
They claim God has no body. So Jesus’ body was just an illusion. But that’s the doctrine of antichrist (1 Jn. 1:1; 4:2; Jn. 1:14; Heb. 2:14; Gal. 4:4).
Adoptionism claimed the opposite:
Jesus was just a man—created, not eternal—later “adopted” by God. Others say He was just a prophet or teacher: flawed, but admirable.
That too is false—and anti-biblical (Phil. 2:6; Matt. 1:23; Is. 9:6; Jn. 1:1–3; Heb. 1:1–3).
As the Son of God, Jesus knew His purpose from eternity.
He knew exactly what He would do to save mankind—how it would happen, and how brutal it would be (Matt. 20:17–19).
As Jesus was about to go up to Jerusalem, He took the twelve disciples aside by themselves, and on the way He said to them, “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem; and the Son of Man will be delivered to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn Him to death, and will hand Him over to the Gentiles to mock and scourge and crucify Him, and on the third day He will be raised up.”
He foretold His death repeatedly (Matt. 16:21).
From that time Jesus began to show His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised up on the third day.
Notice the word MUST—dei—it was necessary.
In Matt. 26:54, when Peter tried to resist Jesus’ arrest, He said again:
“How then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?”
Even as He instituted the Lord’s Supper, He spoke of “My blood… poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matt. 26:28).
Jesus wasn’t longing for death, but He was determined to obey.
He spoke of the weight He carried, and His eagerness to fulfill His purpose (Lk. 12:50; Jn. 12:27; Matt. 20:28):
“I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished!"
“Now My soul has become troubled; and what shall I say, ‘Father, save Me from this hour’? But for this purpose I came to this hour.
“The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many”
And He did all of this willingly (Jn. 10:17-18)
“I lay down My life… No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of My own accord.”
All of this shapes how we understand His prayer in Gethsemane.
We begin to see not only what He was really praying for—but how we should pray when we’re facing the hard road of obedience.
The Cup
What was Jesus praying for when He said, “Let this cup pass from Me”?
What was the cup?
It wasn’t sin.
Jesus bore our sins in His body (1 Pet. 2:24), but this doesn't mean He Himself became sinful as many sectarians teach (1 Pet. 1:19; Heb. 4:15).
It wasn’t separation from the Father.
Deity cannot be separated from Deity.
Behold, an hour is coming, and has already come, for you to be scattered, each to his own home, and to leave Me alone; and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me.
Isaiah 53 says God would crush the Messiah (Is. 53:10), but it never says He would be separated from Him.
Psalm 22 foresees the Messiah crying out—but also being heard. That’s echoed in Hebrews 5:7.
In the days of His flesh, He offered up both prayers and supplications with loud crying and tears to the One able to save Him from death, and He was heard because of His piety.
In Scripture, “cup” is used of many things:
God’s judgment (Ps. 11:6)
God’s provision (Ps. 16:5)
God’s wrath (Ps. 75:8)
God’s salvation (Ps. 116:13)
It's something appointed by God— sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
In the prophets, “cup” often symbolizes suffering (Is. 51:22; Lam. 4:21), and that’s how Jesus is using it here.
The cup was everything Peter wanted to prevent (Matt. 16:22; Jn. 18:11):the betrayal, the trials, the mocking, the scourging, the crucifixion—not just the physical pain, but the emotional and mental anguish.
That raises a hard question:
If Jesus knew He must die—and was willing—why ask for the cup to pass?
Because He wasn’t trying to escape God’s will.
And He was saying, “Abba! Father! All things are possible for You; remove this cup from Me; yet not what I will, but what You will.”
Every prayer He offered ended this way. He wasn’t asking to skip the cross.
“If it is possible…” implies He is submitting His desires to the limits of the Father's will.
That’s not doubt—it’s full awareness of God’s power—but also a submission to God’s purpose.
Maybe He prayed the suffering might be shortened. Maybe He asked that its intensity be lessened. Maybe it was a plea for relief from the crushing emotional weight. We don’t know exactly—but we know God’s answer: the cup would not pass.
So Jesus drank it.
Notice the progression:
“Let this cup pass…” (Matt. 26:39)
“If it cannot pass unless I drink it, Your will be done.” (Matt. 26:42)
“Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given Me?” (Jn. 18:11)
That’s what prayer should be—not bending God to our will, trying to pry open His hand, but bringing our hearts to Him and yielding fully to His.
Jesus did not receive what He asked for, but He was heard, and His Father saw to His needs.
The cup remained—but God sent an angel to strengthen Him (Lk. 22:43).
Now an angel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him.
He was heard—but not in the sense of escape, that's not even what He was asking for. Rather, He was strengthened.
What Do We Learn?
Jesus faced death with real fear and pain. His soul was crushed by what lay ahead. And what did He do with that agony?
He prayed.
He went to His Father, wrestled with the weight of suffering, and found strength (Heb. 5:7). He didn’t bargain. He didn’t complain. He submitted.
He was mocked, beaten, humiliated, tortured, and executed—because that’s what obedience called for.
That moment in the garden destroys every excuse we try to make.
“God doesn’t understand what I’m going through.”
He knows. He’s been there. He faced worse.
“It’s too hard.”
He bled for people who would curse His Name.
His prayer reminds us: there is only one way to salvation—through the blood of the sinless Savior. Jesus is our companion in sorrow and suffering (Heb. 2:18; 4:15).
Loving God doesn’t always mean we’ll want to face what He asks—but it does mean we choose to.
We do it the way Jesus did—through prayer—and find the strength to endure.
Jesus shows that prayer isn’t always the path out of adversity—it’s the path through it.
In Gethsemane, Jesus wasn’t delivered from suffering—but He was delivered through it.
He forces the question: will I resist God’s will—or submit to it?
The cup may involve suffering—but it leads to glory.
And we don’t need to fear the cup. It might be painful. It might be public. But it’s not punishment—it’s preparation. God knows what you can handle. He custom-designed your cup (1 Cor. 10:13).
He taught us what true prayer looks like. “He was heard because of His reverence”—not because He said the “right” words, but because He revered His Father. Not because He prayed “Let this cup pass,” but because He prayed “Your will be done.”
Prayer isn’t about getting our way—it’s about seeking God’s.
It’s about trusting Him even when the answer is no (2 Cor. 12:7–10; 1 Pet. 2:21–23).
If we pray with humility, reverence, and trust—whatever answer He gives will be for our good and His glory.
Jesus suffered all of this because of love.He came to save lives—and paid the greatest price to make that salvation possible.
We’ve seen the Scriptures that prove His identity, His divine mission, and His purpose.
But one question remains: Why?
Jesus answers:
“Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends"
It was love that brought Him here. Love that drove Him to the cross. Love that made Him drink the bitter cup for you.
Will you submit to Him—or walk away from the only One who can save?
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