He went a short distance from his disciples—not so far but that they could both see and hear him—and fell prostrate with his face upon the cold ground. He was overpowered by a terrible fear that God was removing his presence from him. He felt himself being separated from his Father by a gulf of sin, so broad, so black and deep that his spirit shuddered before it. He clung convulsively to the cold, unfeeling ground as if to prevent himself from being drawn still farther from God. The chilling dews of night fell upon his prostrate form, but the Redeemer heeded it not. From his pale, convulsed lips wailed the bitter cry, “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.” {3SP 95.2}

Han gik et lille stykke fra sine disciple, dog ikke længere, end at de både kunne se og høre ham, og faldt ned på sit ansigt mod den kolde jord. Han blev overvældet af en forfærdelig frygt for, at Gud ville unddrage sin nærværelse fra ham. Han følte, at han var nær ved at blive adskilt fra sin Fader ved en afgrund af synd, der var så bred, så dyb, at hans ånd skælvede for den. Han klyngede sig krampagtig til den kolde, følelsesløse jord, som om han søgte at undgå at blive draget endnu længere bort fra Gud. Nattens kolde dug faldt på hans nedbøjede legeme; men Forløseren lagde ikke mærke til det. Fra hans blege skælvende læber lød det bitre råb: "Min Fader! er det muligt, så lad denne kalk gå mig forbi; dog ikke, som jeg vil, men som du vil." (39.vers)