What is the Cup

“What Cup is This?”
The Rev. Dr. Fred G. Garry

Matthew 26.36-46

Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I go over there and pray.’ He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and agitated. Then he said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.’ And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.’ Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, ‘So, could you not stay awake with me one hour? Stay awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.’ Again he went away for the second time and prayed, ‘My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.’ Again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. So leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words. Then he came to the disciples and said to them, ‘Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.’

She caught the Katy
And left me a mule to ride
She caught the Katy
And left me a mule to ride
Now my baby caught the Katy
Left me a mule to ride
The train pulled out
I swung on behind
Crazy 'bout her
That hardheaded woman of mine

My girl, my girl, don't lie to me
Tell me, where did you sleep last night?

In the pines, in the pines
Where the sun don't ever shine
I would shiver the whole night through.

Well, I followed her to the station
With a suitcase in my hand
Yeah, I followed her to the station
With a suitcase in my hand
Whoa, it's hard to tell, it's hard to tell
When all your love's in vain.

           That last one is Robert Johnson.  You might have heard the Rolling Stones sing this, but the man of the Crossroads wrote it.  It's hard to tell when all your love is in vain.  Such a devastating line.

            Early Bluesmen had such great names. "Where did you sleep?" was the question of Leadbelly.  Great name Leadbelly.  Even better than the name is the image and the impact. I can't hear this song, especially when sung by Kurt Cobain, and not feel the cold of the night, the sadness enveloping all involved, the madness, when you find yourself where the sun don't ever shine.

            I started with She Caught the Katy because it's funny.  The movie that is.  The Blues Brothers introduced not only this song but also the whole genre of blues music to my generation and we didn't even know it.  We just thought they were trying to get the band back together.  Didn't know we were in music theory 101 class.

            Mostly what I know about music is that I love it and it can lift and move the soul in ways no poem or prose can on its own.  Blues is by definition a twelve-bar progression, whatever that means.  I feel that definition is like saying an ocean is water.  A better definition of the Blues to me is it's the great gift of the American experiment to the world.  We didn't invent empire or capitalism or democracy.  But we did invent the blues.  A great achievement born of tragedy. The blues arose from slavery.  It is part lament, part dirge, part song of hope, a spiritual, a work song, and then it is something altogether more.

            The more, I believe, is that the blues is, in essence, the songs and sound of betrayal.  Somebody betrayed somebody (or in lyrics somebody did somebody wrong song).  You can sing the blues when you're just feeling a bit down; and you can sing the blues when your world has been brought low and you are “down and out.”  The cord spanning this wide gap is betrayal.  Not everyone is betrayed, but betrayal is inevitable to life.

            My belief is that this fateful part of life never found a true tune, an enchantment, until Robert Johnson and Bessie Smith and Elvis.  The Ed Sullivan Show didn't make Elvis the king, the blues did. It has that power.

            Some might find it sacrilegious to discuss the agony of the garden and the blues in the same conversation.  It is a bit of understatement to say Jesus has the Garden of Gethsemane Blues.  True.  But there is some truth to it.  This is a dark moment, a heartbreaking moment.  No one seems to get it.  Can’t you just stay awake with me.  Yet, the real blues connection is the prayer.  What if the prayer of Jesus is about betrayal.  I mean at the end of his prayer, he says, the betrayer is at hand.  Has a bit blues in it.

            How to read this passage, how to get to heart of the matter, the agony of the garden, I believe the best light is how you answer the question of the cup.  What cup is Jesus talking about?  Let this cup pass from me; let this cup pass from me.  Well, what cup is it; what is the cup he would rather not partake? 

            If Jesus is referring to the Old Testament, then we are talking about one of three kinds of cups.  There is the cup of salvation or joy.  The Old Testament talks about a cup being offered in victory, restoration, a cup of gladness. Even though this is a cup many refuse, I think we can rule that one out.

            Then there is the cup of suffering.  When the enemies of Israel were going to destroy them and take them to Babylon, they were being offered a cup of suffering. 

            This is possible.  Jesus told his disciples three times; I am going to suffer and die.  Maybe he’s praying for an out, a last-ditch attempt to ask: is there another way to bring the kingdom, another sort of arrangement without say crucifixion and beating and flogging?  Perhaps you have prayed for the cup of suffering to pass.  God don’t let him suffer.  Keep her from suffering.  Not a bad request.  Yet, for this to be the cup he is asking to pass he would be abandoning his proclamation, he would be changing his tune. 

            Scholars suggest this is a moment of profound humanness on Jesus’ part.  He is suffering like we would all suffer in a moment of dread.  Yet not only is the request to let the cup of suffering pass inconsistent with what he said in the past, it is also inconsistent with what he will say in just a few moments.  Possible, but not likely.

            The third cup that is mentioned in the Old Testament is the cup of bitterness.  Which does happen on the cross, they offer him bitter wine.  It is a key to the Passover, the cup of bitter, salty water.  I think this is the most likely cup of the three. Let this cup of bitterness pass by me.  But, unlike the obvious suffering of the second cup, there is no direct answer to: what is the bitterness Jesus doesn’t want?  What is his temptation of bitterness?

            I must confess the answer I found to this question is new to me.  I have preached the garden story many times through the years, and I’ve been to the garden of Gethsemane many times.  But until recently I just saw this as a sad place.  In the same way I have met bitter people, feared bitterness.  But I had never made the connection of the garden prayer to betrayal and betrayal to bitterness until the last few years.  Before this I thought bitterness was just anger or resentment that stayed too long.  Now though I see betrayal and bitterness as interwoven.  Like the blues, betrayal is essential to bitterness and something very real in and of itself.  Not extra anger or extra sadness. 

            With this new understanding came an epiphany— opened this story for me.  Betrayal is a part of life; it happens.  But it doesn’t have to.  The same is true of bitterness. This is a temptation, not an inevitability.

            Good things, wonderful things happen in life.  Sometimes all the stars line up and the lesser gods all take a vote and decide that you have just won the lottery of life.  Yet, when this happens, there is no guarantee you will be happy.  The sun does come out tomorrow, but even if you bet your last bottom dollar, there is no guarantee you will enjoy it. I am coming to see bitterness and betrayal as the same.  They happen, but they are not how things must be.  Can be?  Yes.  Must be?  No.  Jesus praying in the garden to let the cup pass is not a prayer to change his fate; it's a prayer of possibility.

             Suffering, this cup is inevitable to some degree.  We all suffer the hand of fate, the inevitable destruction, the unfortunate fall.  Where how and when, not sure.  But suffering is how life is sometimes.  So, Jesus praying in the Garden could have been a matter of how and when he was going to suffer, not if. This is a very human response to the inevitability of suffering. 

            But the garden prayer is about possibility: Is it possible Judas didn’t have to betray Jesus?  Could have changed his mind; could have thought, what am I doing?  Could have gotten hit by a donkey cart on the way to the Pharisees or just decided to walk away if he was so unhappy.  Something.  Possibility.  This way the prayer of Jesus is: suffering, okay; but betrayal?  I would rather not.  Could Jesus have been praying for Judas when asking for the cup to pass?  Does this have to be betrayal?

            The other possibility of the prayer: don't let me fall to bitterness.  They will reject me, take offence, lose faith in me.  Say they don't know me.  Don't let my agony become the taste of bitterness. 

            Agony is close to the blues.

            I followed her to the station with a suitcase in my hand.  She could have told me before; I don’t want you to come with me.  Or I am leaving alone; I am leaving you.  But I followed her to the station with my suitcase in my hand. He didn’t see it coming; he was blind.  It’s hard to tell when all your love is in vain.  Agony. 

            My girl, my girl don’t lie to me.  Where did you sleep last night.  In other words, did you betray me, did you betray me last night.  In the pines in the pines where the sun don’t ever shine, I would shiver the whole night through.  The answer is hard to tell at first.  Hard to hear the agony.  I read it this way: I slept alone in the cold in the darkness and sadness rather than come home to you.  It’s hard to tell here where the bitterness and the betrayal begin and end and who has betrayed whom and why.  But the agony is clear. I’d shiver the whole night through rather than be with you. 

            I thought about ending this sermon with an example of bitterness born of betrayal, a kind of "don't try this at home," warning.  Yet, it was a quote of Sinead O'Connor that took me down a different path. 

            Truly if there was anyone who could or should have been bitter it was Sinead O'Connor.  At the height of her young career, she spoke the truth about the Roman Catholic Church and child abuse.  She tore up a picture of the pope and suggested he was an enemy.  Thirty years later and what we know now, it is no less courageous, but a great deal more understandable.  She shouted what was only whispered and the world turned its back to her as did friends and peers and people of power.

            Being shunned and hated for speaking the truth can make you bitter, especially being on a world stage.  Awhile back Sinead O'Connor locked herself away and listened only to the blues.  I watched her in an interview after she emerged.  I laughed when she described the blues as a twelve-bar progression.  Felt a bit affirmed when she described the blues as the root of music, a place where music begins, power.

            Yet, what really hit home about her time with the blues is something she said about being betrayed but not falling to bitterness. The possibility she found.  She said, They tried to bury me. They didn't know I was seed.  They tried to bury me. They didn't know I was seed.  I don't know about you.  But that sounds like something whispered, an answer to a prayer about a cup of bitterness.  Agony?  Yes.  Bitterness?  No. They tried to bury me. They didn't know I was seed.  Let the cup pass from me.  Maybe the blues is where and how and when we endure the agony to find we are seed of salvation.  Maybe.  Amen.