The Arrest - Scholarly Article

It reflects a feeling of abandonment, not an actual separation from God.
It echoes Psalm 22, which moves from anguish to trust.
The relationship between Jesus and the Father remains intact.

This line is not a direct quote from the Gospels.

It reflects a common interpretation of Jesus’ suffering.

On the cross, Jesus quotes Psalm 22:
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

At first glance, this sounds like abandonment.

But Psalm 22 as a whole tells a larger story.

It begins in anguish.
But ends in trust and vindication.

Importantly, it says:
God has not hidden his face.

So the “forsakenness” is experiential.
Not literal separation.

Jesus feels abandoned.
But is not actually abandoned.

This fits with other statements.

Jesus says:
“I am not alone, for the Father is with me.”

The unity between Father and Son remains.

So what is happening?

Jesus is expressing real human suffering.
Including the emotional weight of bearing sin.

But without breaking divine relationship.

This is an artistic interpretation of what Jesus might have felt. These words, which are not a quotation from the New Testament, appear to anticipate a popular interpretation of Jesus’s experience on the cross.

This statement, heard on the lips of Jesus as he is comforted by an angel in the garden of gethsemane in episode 23, is not a quotation from the New Testament. It appears to be an anticipation of an idea some Christians infer from the report (found in the Gospels according to Mark and Matthew) that while he was on the cross, Jesus quoted the opening of Psalm 22, which reads “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (see Mark 15:34, Matthew 27:46). As theologian Stephen D. Morrison explains,

Growing up I often heard Matthew 27:46 quoted in presenting the Gospel. The preacher would say something along these lines: “God is too holy to look at sin. When Jesus died on the cross, the Father turned His back on Him. He abandoned Jesus, and forsake Him to die . . .” But did the Father really forsake His Son on the cross? Absolutely not! And this is ultimately how I know that the Father did not forsake Jesus on the cross: Psalms 22 clearly says so! Check out verse 24: “For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.” Jesus was not forsaken by God! The perfect union of Father, Son, and Spirit remained unbroken! God did not forsake His Son on the cross. As Paul writes, “God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself.”[690]

Indeed, John 16:32 reports Jesus speaking to the disciples about his approaching crucifixion and affirming that he will not be abandoned by God:

Behold, the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me.

The idea that God is literally “too holy to look on sin” contradicts the doctrine of God’s omniscience. The idea stems from a misinterpretation of Old Testament language about God being too pure to “look upon” sin (Habakkuk 1:13), language which in context means that God is too pure to approve of sin (the Hebrew word raah means both to behold and to approve of or respect[691]).

Theologian John Gill (1697-1771) suggests that Jesus’ quotation of Psalm 22:1

is to be understood, not as if the hypostatical or personal union of the divine and human natures were dissolved, or that the one was now separated from the other: for the fulness of the Godhead still dwelt bodily in him; nor that he ceased to be the object of the Father's love; for so he was in the midst of all his sufferings, yea, his Father loved him because he laid down his life for the sheep; nor that the principle of joy and comfort was lost in him, only the act and sense of it; he was now deprived of the gracious presence of God, of the manifestations of his love to his human soul, and had a sense of divine wrath, not for his own sins, but for the sins of his people, and was for a while destitute of help and comfort. . .[692]

It should be noted that God is still claimed by the Psalmist (i.e., king David) as “My God,” even as he expresses his feelings of temporary abandonment; and it is important to recognise that the “abandonment” discussed in Psalm 22 is not an abandonment of the Psalmist by God simpliciter, but an “abandonment” to the oppression of King Saul. As many theologians have observed,

even in his desolation, David prays, “My God, my God,” acknowledging his faith in God and dependence on Him, despite the Lord’s perceived distance and silence. Later, David declares outright his trust in the Lord: “Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the one Israel praises. In you our ancestors put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. To you they cried out and were saved; in you they trusted and were not put to shame” (Psalm 22:3–5; see also verses 9–10). David knows that God never forsakes His people (verses 22–24).[693]

Given that David clearly knows God as “My God,” it follows that David also knows God as the one who has not forsaken him. Christian pastor Josh Cramer comments that

in Psalm 22, the Psalmist looks and feels forsaken, but the result is salvation that leads to universal – including all nations and all generations – praise of God. The Psalmist cries out in anguish but the result of the cry of anguish is the reminder that God is faithful. Anguish and praise go back-and-forth in the Psalm: forsakenness to reminder of God’s faithfulness to feelings of being undeserving to reminders of God’s creation to feeling surrounded to cry for God to be near to praise. It’s not an easy or straightforward Psalm that moves from lament to praise. Psalm 22 takes us through the experience of struggle to get to praise. But the Psalmist finally gets to a universal and complete vision of praise. The end does not resolve with the resolution of the Psalmist’s immediate situation but with an eschatological and fulfilled vision, including all nations and generations. The Psalm moves from forsakenness to total shalom [i.e., wholeness].

Verse 24 is key to that vision: “For he has not despised or scorned/the suffering of the afflicted one;/he has not hidden his face from him/but has listened to his cry for help.” Despite the sense of alienation and abandonment that the Psalmist experiences, God has not in fact abandoned him. The “afflicted one” is, in reality, “not despised or scorned” nor is God’s “face” “hidden.” Instead, God “has listened to his cry.” (Just a note: the Hebrew term for “listen” always carries the weight of action with it; one cannot “listen” and not be moved to action. “Listen” might as well be translated “listen and obey.”) So, God is near to the afflicted one who suffers. Though a person might be afflicted and experience suffering, God is near, listening and acting on behalf of the sufferer. . .

Jesus cries out in anguish, “My God my God, why have you forsaken me?” but this cry quotes from Psalm 22, where the initial feeling of forsakenness leads to eschatological salvation. Jesus cries out as a way of expressing both his sense of anguish but also his faith in God’s ultimate victory.[694]

As theologian Albert Barnes (1798–1870) observes in his commentary on Psalm 22:24:

As applicable to the Redeemer on the cross, this means that though the darkness seemed to continue until death, yet it was not an utter forsaking. His prayer was heard; his work was accepted; the great object for which he came into the world would be accomplished; he himself would rise triumphantly from his sufferings; and the cause which he came to establish, and for which he died, would finally prevail in the world.[695]

Probably not literal, but a vivid description of extreme distress.
Some manuscripts question the verse’s originality.
If literal, it could reflect a rare medical condition under stress.

The key phrase is: “his sweat became like drops of blood.”

That wording matters. “Like” suggests a comparison. Not necessarily literal blood.

So the simplest reading is metaphorical.
It describes intensity. Extreme anguish, physical and emotional.

However, some take it literally.

There is a rare condition called hematohidrosis, where people can sweat blood under extreme stress. So it’s medically possible. But it is extremely rare.

There is also a textual issue: Some early manuscripts include the verse. Others omit it.

There is some discussion as to whether the verse describing Jesus’ sweat being “like great drops of blood” may be one of a few scribal additions to the original manuscript of Luke. However, even if it is not original, it may well be an early and historical tradition. Either way, the verse is probably not saying that Jesus actually sweat literal blood, but that his sweat was metaphorically “like great drops of blood falling down upon the ground.”

As Jesus is praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, Luke 22:44 states:

And having been in agony, He was praying more earnestly. And His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down upon the ground. (Berean Literal Bible.)

This statement appears to be a metaphorical description, but some Christians understand it literally. If one takes this verse literally, it would be describing a case of “bloody sweating” known as “hematohidrosis,” which is “a very rare condition in which an individual sweats blood. It may occur in an individual who is suffering from extreme levels of stress.”[697]

That said, theologian Robert H. Stein reports that

Whether [Luke 22:43-44] were part of the original text of Luke is debated. They are found in several significant manuscripts . . . and many of the early church fathers. Yet they are not found in the best manuscript tradition . . . .[698]

Stein argues that “Because these verses do not fit particularly well the present context and are lacking in the best manuscript tradition, they should not be regarded as part of the original Gospel of Luke.”[699] On the other hand, theologian Leon Morris argues that although some very good manuscripts of Luke do indeed omit these two verses,

the probability is that they should be included. In a day when scribes were sure of the deity of their Lord, some would find difficulty in the thought of his being strengthened by an angel, and they would see the striking details of the agony as pointing to a Jesus all too human. There would be every reason for omitting the words if they were original, but it is difficult indeed to imagine an early scribe inserting them in a text that lacked them.[670]

The NET Bible includes the following, judicious text-critical note on Luke 22:43-44:

Several important Greek mss (Ì75 א1 A B N T W 579 1071*) along with diverse and widespread versional witnesses lack 22:43-44. In addition, the verses are placed after Matt 26:39 by Ë13. Floating texts typically suggest both spuriousness and early scribal impulses to regard the verses as historically authentic. These verses are included in א*,2 D L Θ Ψ 0171 Ë1 Ï lat Ju Ir Hipp Eus. However, a number of mss mark the text with an asterisk or obelisk, indicating the scribe’s assessment of the verses as inauthentic. At the same time, these verses generally fit Luke’s style. Arguments can be given on both sides about whether scribes would tend to include or omit such comments about Jesus’ humanity and an angel’s help. But even if the verses are not literarily authentic, they are probably historically authentic. This is due to the fact that this text was well known in several different locales from a very early period. Since there are no synoptic parallels to this account and since there is no obvious reason for adding these words here, it is very likely that such verses recount a part of the actual suffering of our Lord. Nevertheless, because of the serious doubts as to these verses’ authenticity, they have been put in brackets.[671]

Jesus prays to the Father, not to himself.
He relates to God as a human while still being divine.
His prayer shows dependence, not contradiction.

Jesus’ prayer only makes sense within a Trinitarian framework.
He is not praying to himself, because he is not identical with the Father.
Within the one divine being, there are distinct persons who relate to one another.

Jesus, as the Son, speaks to the Father in a real interpersonal relationship.
This is not symbolic language, but reflects genuine distinction within God.

At the same time, through the incarnation, Jesus lives a fully human life.
Prayer therefore expresses both his human dependence and his eternal relationship with the Father.

His struggle in prayer shows that obedience does not remove difficulty.
It reveals trust within a relationship.

Conclusion:
Jesus’ prayer reveals that God is not solitary, but relational, and that true obedience flows from trust within that relationship.

Although Jesus is divine as well as human, he is not praying to himself, but to “God the Father.”

Jesus prays to his “heavenly father” because although he is the divine “Word” and “Son of God,” he has chosen to also be fully human through his incarnation, and thus to relate to “God the Father” through prayer in both the good and bad experiences of his life. Legacy of Adam producer Roger Gihlemoen explains that

Jesus . . . does not pray to himself, but to the Father. The episode shows that Jesus experiences fear, pressure, and struggle like any other human being. . . . Even while carrying divine authority, Jesus chooses dependence and obedience. . . .  Jesus knows what is coming. The episode shows him struggling, because the path ahead involves suffering. His prayer reveals that obedience does not remove fear. Instead, Jesus chooses to trust God even when the cost is high.

Those wanting to explore the metaphysical relationship between “God the Father,” “God the Son” and “God the Holy Spirit” within the Christian conception of God as a Trinity of divine persons in One divine personal being are directed to the recommended resources for this episode.

A kiss was a normal greeting between close friends.
Judas uses it to identify Jesus to the soldiers.
It makes the betrayal more personal and deceptive.

In 1st century Jewish culture, a kiss was common.
It signaled friendship, respect, and loyalty.
Men would greet each other this way.

So the act itself was not unusual.
What makes it striking is how it’s used.

The arrest happens at night.
In a crowded, dimly lit setting.
The soldiers likely didn’t know Jesus by sight.

So Judas gives them a clear signal.
“The one I kiss is the man.”

He chooses a sign of intimacy.
To carry out betrayal.

A gesture of loyalty becomes a tool of deception.

It’s not just functional.
It’s symbolic.

Judas hides betrayal behind familiarity.

A kiss like this was a standard social greeting between friends in Jewish culture, and Judas uses it as a sign so that the soldiers know which man to arrest.

A kiss on the cheek, beard, or hand was a standard social greeting between family or close friends in 1^st century Jewish culture (see Luke 7:45, Acts 20:37, Romans 16:16, 1 Corinthians 16:20, 2 Corinthians 13:12, 1 Thessalonians 5:26 and 1 Peter 5:14), which “communicated peace, respect, and loyalty—much like a heartfelt handshake or hug does today.”[701] Indeed, even in contemporary Israel, “it’s not uncommon for men to kiss one another on the cheek. . . the number of times one kisses varies, but the most common variant is once per cheek.”[702] Judas uses this kiss as a sign so that the soldiers will know which man to arrest. Legacy of Adam producer Roger Gihlemoen explains:

The garden was dark and the captors did not know which one to arrest, they needed a sign. A kiss was a sign of friendship and trust. By using it, Judas hides his betrayal behind something familiar and gentle.

Jesus allows the arrest because it is part of his mission.
He rejects violence because his kingdom is not built by force.
His surrender is intentional, not weakness.

From a narrative standpoint, nothing here is accidental.

Jesus repeatedly predicts this outcome.
The arrest is accepted.

Why no resistance?
Because his mission is not political.
If it were, he would fight.
Or allow his followers to fight.

But he explicitly rejects that path.
“My kingdom is not of this world.”
Meaning:
It doesn’t operate by power, armies, or revolt.

Jesus stops violence.
Even when his followers try to defend him.

So what looks like defeat is actually alignment with his purpose.

He embraces suffering instead of avoiding it.

Not because he is powerless.
But because he chooses that path.

Jesus’s humiliation is not a sign of failure, but an integral, though temporary, part of his humble identification with the human condition as the prophesied Messiah.

The Qur’an admits that God permits his prophets to be rejected and even killed by those to whom they are sent. Surah 2:61 talks of people “rejecting Allah’s signs and unjustly killing the prophets.” According to Surah 2:87:

Indeed, We gave Moses the Book and sent after him successive messengers. And We gave Jesus, son of Mary, clear proofs and supported him with the holy spirit. Why is it that every time a messenger comes to you ˹Israelites˺ with something you do not like, you become arrogant, rejecting some and killing others?[703]

At his trial, Jesus explains that his kingdom “is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.” (John 18:36). As theologian Albert Barnes (1798–1870) comments:

The charge on which Jesus was arraigned was that of laying claim to the office of a king. He here substantially admits that he did claim to be a king, but not in the sense in which the Jews understood it. They charged him with attempting to set up an earthly kingdom, and of exciting sedition against Caesar. In reply to this, Jesus says that his kingdom is not of this world - that is, it is not of the same nature as earthly kingdoms. It was not originated for the same purpose, or conducted on the same plan. He immediately adds a circumstance in which they differ. The kingdoms of the world are defended by arms; they maintain armies and engage in wars. If the kingdom of Jesus had been of this kind, he would have excited the multitudes that followed him to prepare for battle. He would have armed the hosts that attended him to Jerusalem. He would not have been alone and unarmed in the garden of Gethsemane. But though he was a king, yet his dominion was over the heart, subduing evil passions and corrupt desires, and bringing the soul to the love of peace and unity.^[704]

As Legacy of Adam producer Roger Gihlemoen explains:

Jesus stops violence instead of encouraging it. The episode shows that his mission is not achieved through force. By choosing not to fight, Jesus stays faithful to the path he spoke about earlier—one that leads through suffering, not domination. . . . In Christianity, truth is strong enough to be revealed through weakness. Jesus is not humiliated because he fails, he is humiliated because he chooses to share the human condition fully.