On Hermon the glories of the Transfiguration were almost hidden from the three disciples by their closing eyes. And now weariness overcame them in the garden. They too fell to the ground, but not in prayer. They tarried indeed, but could no longer watch.

They had seen Moses and Elijah with their Lord on the Holy Mount, but probably did not see the blessed watcher in the garden when "there appeared unto Him an angel from heaven strengthening Him" in body and soul. So had angels come and ministered unto the Lord of angels and men in the temptation in the wilderness.

"Being in agony He prayed more earnestly" until mingled blood and sweat fell upon the ground. The heavenly visitants on Mount Hermon in glory had talked with Him of His decease now at hand. The cup of sorrow was fuller now than then. He prayed the Father that if possible it might pass from Him. Then the angel must have told Him that this could not be if He would become the Saviour of men. He uttered the words whose meaning we cannot fully know, "Not My will, but Thine, be done."

The angelic presence did not make Him unmindful of the three. "He rose up from His prayer," and turned from the spot moistened by the drops of His agony. With the traces of them upon His brow, "He came unto the disciples." How much of pathos in the simple record, "He found them sleeping." Without heavenly or earthly companionship, His loneliness is complete.

"'Tis midnight; and from all around,
The Saviour wrestles 'lone with fears;
E'en that disciple whom He loved,
Heeds not His Master's griefs and tears."

The head that reclined so lovingly on the bosom of the Lord in the Upper Room now wearily rests on the dewy grass of Gethsemane. The eyes that looked so tenderly into His, and the ear that listened so anxiously for His whisper, are closed.

As Jesus stood by the three recumbent forms held by deep sleep, and gazed by the pale moonlight into their faces which showed a troubled slumber, He knew they "were sleeping for sorrow." In silence He looked upon them until His eye fastened—not on the beloved John—but on him who an hour ago had boasted of faithfulness to His Lord. The last utterance they had heard before being lost in slumber was that of agonizing prayer to the Father. The first that awakened them was sad and tender reproof—"Simon, sleepest thou? Couldest thou not watch one hour?" In the Master's words and tones were mingled reproach and sympathy. In tenderness He added, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." Because of the spirit He pardoned the flesh. The question, "Why sleep ye?" was to the three, as well as the charge, "Rise and pray, that ye enter not into temptation."

Let imagination fill out the outline drawn by the Evangelists:—"He went away again the second time and prayed; He came and found them asleep again; He left them and went away again and prayed the third time; and He cometh a third time and saith unto them, 'Sleep on now and take your rest.'" If we may suppose any period of rest, it was soon broken by the cry, "Arise, let us be going; behold he that betrayeth Me is at hand." They need "watch" no longer. Their Lord's threefold struggle was over. He was victor in Gethsemane, even as John beheld Him three years before, just after His threefold conflict in the wilderness.

As they rose from the ground the inner circle that had separated them, not only from the other Apostles but from all other men, was erased. We do not find them alone with their Lord again. They rose and joined the eight at the garden gate.