Have you ever faced moments in your life where your circumstances felt unbearable, as though you were going to be crushed by them? A family crisis, personal failure, or perhaps an impossible decision that left you feeling troubled in your soul and restless? We all experience that at some point. It’s part of being human. And while we all experience troubled souls in our human frailty, none of us have ever faced what Jesus faced. His troubled soul wasn’t rooted in personal sin or failure but in bearing the weight of the world’s sin and fulfilling His mission as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
Today, as we look at John 12:27, just one verse, my goal is to explore why Jesus’ soul was so troubled and how that brings hope to us in our own struggles.
Jesus is at the end of His life. When we reach John 12, it’s the last week of His earthly ministry. He has just been ushered into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey, hailed as Israel’s Messiah and King. That was on Sunday, and by Friday, the crowds will shout, “Crucify Him!” Earlier, He participated in a dinner at Lazarus’ house, where He was honored by Mary, Martha, and those present. After the triumphal entry, some Greeks came to see Him. We aren’t told whether He met with them, but instead, the narrative shifts as Jesus begins to focus on the hour that is approaching. In verse 27, we see His soul becoming deeply troubled.
Let’s look at verse 27 together: “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.”
“Now My soul is troubled.” Jesus speaks in the present tense.
Jesus’ whole life was full of trouble.
Jesus’ entire life fulfilled Isaiah 53, which foretells that He would be a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. He was born into poverty, under the shadow of scandal, with whispers of illegitimacy surrounding His birth. From the very beginning, He faced danger. King Herod sought to kill Him while He was still a child, forcing His family to flee as refugees to Egypt. They remained there until Herod’s death and a new king’s rise, at which point they returned to Israel and settled in Nazareth, where Jesus grew up.
Throughout His life, Jesus faced direct and intense temptations, not merely from demons but from Satan himself, the master of temptation. After fasting for 40 days, Satan targeted His physical hunger, His mission, and His authority. Yet, Jesus overcame every one of these temptations. Reflecting on the trouble Jesus endured, I’m reminded of Hebrews 4:15: “We do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin.” Whatever your greatest temptation may be, Jesus understands it—perhaps even more deeply than we can imagine.
In His hometown of Nazareth, Jesus was rejected and even threatened with death. They tried to throw Him off a cliff. The religious leaders constantly questioned, accused, and plotted against Him, seeing Him as a threat to their power. He was accused of blasphemy, of being demon-possessed, and of breaking their Sabbath laws.
Jesus traveled mile after mile, from village to village, often without a place to rest. He endured hunger, thirst, weariness, and exhaustion from long days of teaching and healing. Crowds constantly surrounded Him, pressing in on Him, following Him everywhere. This left Him little time to eat, rest, or be alone—though He always made time to pray to His Father.
Many in those crowds followed Him not for His message or mission, but because of His miracles. To them, He was a sideshow, a means to their ends. They sought what He could do for them, not Him for who He was. Even His own family thought He was out of His mind and did not initially believe in Him, despite being surrounded by disciples who followed Him.
Jesus often faced misunderstanding, even from those closest to Him. The disciples failed to fully grasp His mission until after His death. This misunderstanding contributed to the loneliness He bore as He carried the weight of His divine mission. Time and again, we read of Jesus being troubled by the people’s unwillingness to repent and turn to God.
He wept over Jerusalem, grieving for their hardened hearts. Throughout His ministry, He lived with a constant awareness of His impending crucifixion and the burden of bearing humanity’s sin. Truly, as Isaiah prophesied in Isaiah 53, written centuries before Jesus came, He was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” Isaiah writes:
“He was despised and forsaken of men,
A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
And like one from whom men hide their face
He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.”
Interestingly, the New Testament never records that Jesus laughed or smiled. This doesn’t mean He didn’t experience these emotions, but they aren’t emphasized. However, Luke does tell us that He was glad on certain occasions. Jesus knew joy, even amidst His sorrow and grief.
When Jesus says “Now,” it is more than a statement of timing—it marks a pivotal moment of realization and declaration. The triumphal entry has just taken place, and the crowds hailed Him as their Messianic King. This was one of the rare moments when public enthusiasm seemed to align with His ministry. However, such enthusiasm was often shallow and conditional.
For example, when Jesus fed the multitudes, they wanted to make Him king. Their enthusiasm was strong as long as He fulfilled their desires. Now, in John 12, the request from the Greeks in verses 20 and 21 brings the global scope of Jesus’ mission to the forefront of His mind. This moment clarifies the expansion of His ministry beyond Israel. His mission to draw all people to Himself could only be fulfilled through the death and resurrection that would occur at the end of the week.
The celebratory fervor in Jerusalem, fresh in His memory, now gives way to the immense weight of the agony that lies ahead. Jesus says, “Now My soul has become troubled.”
Jesus has a human soul capable of deep emotional experiences.
He is not a detached being or a distant God; He is fully human. His humanity reflects the fullness of our shared experience. He felt every emotion we feel. In other words, Jesus is not a mere spiritual apparition or angel but fully human, participating in every aspect of our existence. There is no emotion you have encountered that Jesus did not also experience because He was made like us.
John tells us in his Gospel, “And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Jesus’ humanity is central to who He is. His human soul, the seat of His emotions and intellect, allowed Him to experience joy, sorrow, and grief fully.
The writer of Hebrews emphasizes this truth, saying, “Therefore, [Jesus] had to be made like His brethren in all things, so that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people” (Hebrews 2:17). Jesus was made like us in every way, enabling Him to serve as a merciful and faithful high priest and to reconcile us to God.
Jesus’ human soul is distinct yet united with His divine nature. He is not part human and part God; He is fully human and fully God. His divine nature did not override His humanity, nor did His humanity diminish His divinity. Paul makes this clear in Colossians 2:9: “For in Him all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form.”
This statement leaves no ambiguity—everything that makes God who He is dwells fully in Jesus. While His human soul experiences the depth of human emotion, including being troubled, His divine nature remains unchanged. As the writer of Hebrews declares, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). His divine nature remained constant throughout His earthly life.
Because of this unique union of humanity and divinity, Jesus is the only one qualified to represent us before God. As fully human, He perfectly represents us all. As fully divine, He alone can reconcile lost sinners to a holy and just God. Paul affirms this in 1 Timothy 2:5: “For there is one God, and one mediator also between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.” There is no other way to God except through Jesus Christ, who is uniquely qualified as both God and man.
When Jesus says, “Now My soul is troubled,” it is not a theoretical statement. It reflects His deep emotional connection to the weight of the mission before Him and His compassion for the people He came to serve by paying for their sin. His words, “Now My soul has become troubled,” reveal the profound burden He bore in fulfilling His mission.
Jesus’ troubled soul shows the weight of His mission.
It is significant to remember that this moment occurs on a celebratory day. Jerusalem had just hailed Him as their Messiah. Though the Pharisees and religious leaders opposed Him and expressed concern, the city at large embraced Him during His triumphal entry. Yet, even amidst this public celebration, Jesus is deeply troubled.
The English Bible you hold is a translation from the original languages. The Old Testament was written in Hebrew, the New Testament in Greek, with some portions in Aramaic. In John 12:27, when Jesus says, “Now My soul has become troubled,” the Greek word translated as “troubled” is tarassō. This word conveys a profound sense of emotional and spiritual anguish. Jesus is deeply stirred, carrying the weight of His mission and the burden of what lies ahead.
Jesus, the perfect God-man, was no stranger to anguish. It was a constant reality throughout His ministry. This moment in John 12 is not the first time He expresses this deep emotional and spiritual burden.
When Jesus went to see Mary and Martha, who were weeping over the death of their brother Lazarus, He was also deeply moved. In John 11:33, we read: “When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.” The same Greek word, tarassō, is used here, highlighting the depth of His sorrow. Truly, He was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.”
Later, in John 13:21, during the Last Supper, Jesus reveals that one of His disciples will betray Him. The text says, “When He had said this, He became troubled in spirit.” Even in this intimate setting, surrounded by His closest followers, He bears the weight of betrayal.
In John 14:1, as Jesus contemplates His impending death, He speaks peace into the lives of His disciples, urging them not to let their hearts be troubled. He says, “Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me.” Despite His own tarassō, Jesus seeks to bring comfort to others.
Later in the same chapter, verse 27, He reiterates this assurance: “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful.”
What does this tell us about Jesus? Even while bearing the immense weight of sorrow and anguish, He sought to comfort those around Him. His selflessness and compassion shine brightly, offering peace to others while enduring the deepest trouble Himself.
The apex of Jesus’ ongoing anguish is seen in the Garden of Gethsemane, where He prays just before His betrayal. In Mark 14:34, Jesus says, “My soul is deeply grieved to the point of death.” He asks His disciples to remain with Him and keep watch. This is not hyperbole or exaggeration; Jesus is not being dramatic. His grief was so intense that it brought Him to the brink of death.
Without divine intervention, Jesus may have died from the sheer weight of His anguish. Scripture tells us He was strengthened by an angel to endure what was coming. His suffering was so extreme that He began sweating drops of blood—a rare medical condition called hematidrosis. Luke 22:44 gives us a glimpse: “And being in agony, He was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood falling down upon the ground.”
Hematidrosis occurs under extreme emotional distress, where capillaries rupture, causing blood to mix with sweat. It’s a vivid reminder of the immense psychological and physiological toll Jesus bore. We know from medical science that severe stress can have profound effects on the body. Hospitals often treat patients with false heart attack symptoms triggered by emotional distress. There is even a condition called Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, or “broken heart syndrome,” where extreme emotional stress weakens the heart’s left ventricle, mimicking a heart attack.
The toll on Jesus was so severe that Luke tells us in verse 43 that “an angel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him.” Without this strengthening, His anguish might have consumed Him entirely before He ever reached the cross. And yet, why does Jesus endure this? What drives Him to bear such unimaginable anguish?
Jesus’ death was not an accident or a tragic consequence of human injustice. It was the predetermined plan of God, woven into the fabric of redemption from the foundation of the world. Before the world was ever made, it was determined that Jesus would fulfill this mission. This was no cosmic accident.
God created each of us for a specific purpose: to glorify Him in all that we say, do, and think. Yet, sin has turned us into rebels deserving of God’s judgment. We fail to glorify Him perfectly, and God’s holiness and justice demand that sin be punished. A righteous God cannot ignore or overlook sin without compromising His character. If He were to overlook your sin, He would also have to overlook the sins of those who have sinned against you. This would contradict His nature.
The Bible tells us that the shedding of blood is required for the forgiveness of sins. In the Old Testament, God instituted the sacrificial system to impress upon the Israelites the seriousness of sin. It was not something to take lightly or laugh at. Yet, the book of Hebrews reminds us that the sacrificial system was insufficient to remove sin permanently. It was meant to point to a greater sacrifice to come—one that only the sinless blood of Jesus could provide.
Jesus’ death on the cross was not a reaction to human sin; it was the fulfillment of an eternal covenant between the Father, the Son, and the Spirit. In this covenant, the Father planned redemption, the Son accomplished it, and the Holy Spirit applies it to those who trust in Jesus. Jesus’ death was a substitutionary sacrifice, taking the place of all who have faith in Him. He bore the punishment we deserved, satisfying the wrath of God against sin.
Our greatest problem is not merely our sin—it is the wrath of God against that sin. What is God saving sinners from? Ultimately, He is saving us from His own righteous judgment. Jesus’ death appeased God’s wrath, reconciling sinners to Himself. This is the ultimate expression of God’s love: His willingness to go to such lengths to save rebels like us.
When Jesus says, “Now My soul is troubled,” notice that…
Jesus acknowledges the temptation to escape the cross.
Jesus acknowledges the temptation to escape the cross: “What shall I say? ‘Father, save Me from this hour?’” Should His response to this overwhelming trouble be to ask for deliverance? The thought of enduring the cross, including the separation from His Father, was deeply painful. Jesus was not immune to the tension between the desire for relief and His unwavering commitment to His Father’s will.
This moment reveals something profound: Jesus was tempted, yet temptation itself is not sin. Sin comes from yielding to temptation, not from experiencing it. Jesus’ words are not an expression of uncertainty, as though He doesn’t know what to do. Instead, He deliberately highlights the inevitability and necessity of going to the cross. His question serves to teach an important truth: obedience to God often requires walking through suffering, not avoiding it.
Consider what it cost the Son of God to remain faithful to His mission. His entire life was lived with the foreknowledge of the cross, yet He stayed resolute, demonstrating perfect obedience to His Father.
As Jesus contemplated the reality of His Father temporarily withdrawing from Him, it caused a profound and stirring anguish deep in His soul. This was the source of His trouble—the anticipation of losing the comforting and sensible presence of His Father, even if only briefly.
In Luke 22:42, as Jesus prays in the Garden of Gethsemane, He says, “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.” It wasn’t His place in heaven or His divine nature that was at risk. Jesus did not for a moment cease to be God. Instead, it was the experience of His perfect fellowship with the Father that would be temporarily suspended. This was something Jesus had never known. He had always enjoyed unbroken fellowship with His Father, but this withdrawal was necessary for Him to fully absorb the wrath of God and satisfy divine justice on behalf of humanity.
While we relate to Jesus because He is human like us, there are aspects of His experience we cannot fully grasp because He is also God—and a perfect human, unlike us in our sin. As fully human, Jesus felt the deep anguish of impending suffering. Yet, as fully divine, He remained wholly committed to the Father’s redemptive plan, submitting to the cross for the sake of humanity.
In His trouble, Jesus declares, “Now My soul is troubled; and what shall I say? ‘Father, save Me from this hour’? But for this purpose I came to this hour.” His words reflect both His humanity in wrestling with the cost of obedience and His divine resolve to fulfill His mission.
Jesus insists on finishing His mission, even though He is troubled by it.
He is resolute in accomplishing what He came to do. The word “purpose” in this passage comes from the Greek word telos, which signifies a deliberate, predetermined plan. This was no accident—it was intentional. Jesus is deliberate because His hour has come. The word “hour” carries a dual sense of dread and destiny. It is His destiny, one He dreads, yet He is determined to fulfill.
This contrasts sharply with our instinct for self-preservation. Jesus’ unwavering obedience to His Father’s will demonstrates a love and commitment unparalleled by anything we can imagine. Who else would willingly endure such emotional turmoil and suffering—for their enemies?
We often focus on the physical agony of the cross: the nails in His hands, the crown of thorns, the beatings, the humiliation, and the torment of crucifixion. These were indeed horrendous. Yet for Jesus, the most dreadful moment was when the Father turned His face away. That separation was the ultimate anguish.
And yet, He was determined to finish. While we strive to preserve our own comfort, Jesus was determined to complete His mission—for us, His enemies.
What does this reveal about sin? It shows the seriousness with which God views sin. It reminds us of the grave cost of forgiveness. How often do we take sin lightly, making excuses for certain behaviors, minimizing sins like ingratitude, or neglecting faithfulness and obedience to Him?
Sin has a serious cost. Forgiveness is costly. The Son of God endured all this for you. His trouble wasn’t confined to a single moment on the cross or even the events of that week. His entire life was filled with trouble, yet He remained steadfast. At any moment, He could have returned to heaven to be with His Father. But He endured over 30 years of suffering because He had a mission to finish—for you.
In light of all this, let me remind you that while Jesus was somber and serious, He was also joyful. Though the immediate reality of the cross was suffering, the ultimate purpose was joy. Jesus knew that His death would accomplish salvation for sinners and glorify His Father.
The writer of Hebrews, in chapter 12, offers an encouragement after recounting a long list of faithful saints from the Old Testament and those who had suffered for their faith. He writes:
“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
Even in His anguish, Jesus was sustained by joy—the joy of saving those who would trust in Him completely, securing their salvation so fully that it could never be undone. Despite the shame and suffering, Jesus endured, knowing the glory that awaited Him at the right hand of God.
The author of Hebrews invites us to “fix our eyes on Jesus.” Why? Because when we truly see who Jesus is and understand what He has done, it transforms our perspective. Any trouble we face pales in comparison to the magnitude of His work and His glory.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full in His wonderful face. Contemplate the greatness of the Son of God, who became man, willingly went to the cross, and orchestrated His death to save sinners like you and me. When you truly meditate on Him, you cannot help but be amazed.
Are you tempted to grow weary and lose heart? Are there sins or weights entangling you today, making it difficult to run the race set before you? Are there particular temptations that continually nag at you? Do you need your focus realigned? Is there an area of your life where earthly concerns have clouded your eternal purpose?
My friends, turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look at what He has done. The author of Hebrews continues in verse 3 of chapter 12: “For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” Consider Jesus. He endured far greater hostility than you or I will ever face, and He did so without losing heart.
The author reminds us in verse 4: “You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin.” We strive, we work hard, but we have not endured what Jesus endured. And yet, because He has done it—and because He lives in you and me—we can endure. No, we won’t be perfect in this life, but we can strive, and we can fight. If you are a Christian, you will fight. He will not let you sit idly by. He will compel you to engage in the fight against sin in your own life and to participate in bringing others to Him.
Preparation for Communion
My friends, it is fitting today to focus on this one verse as we prepare to partake in the Lord’s Supper—communion that Jesus commanded His disciples to observe. Remember what He has done for you.
If you have never confessed your sins to Him, turned your whole life over to Him, and asked Him to be your Savior—admitting that apart from Him you have no hope of being made right with God—you can do so today. He freely offers forgiveness and salvation. He isn’t asking for token gestures while you go about your life unchanged. Yes, it is a call to die, but it is a call to die with Him, the God who loves you and fills your heart with purpose.
None of us wants to die, but we all will—whether in the comfort of our beds at a ripe old age or while faithfully serving the Lord, perhaps even in hostile lands where the good news is rejected. He calls you to trust Him with your life. If you are willing to say, “I need You more than anything—save me, Jesus,” He will not turn you away. He never turns anyone away.
Do you need forgiveness? He will forgive you. Are you weighed down by the fact that you keep committing the same sins and falling into the same traps? Do you hesitate to come to Him, feeling ashamed or doubting whether your repentance is sincere? He will forgive you and keep working in you to help you grow into the obedience you desire.
This supper is about partaking in what He has done for you. It is for Christians only. If you are not a Christian, I solemnly warn—and may I even boldly say, I insist—that you refrain from partaking for the sake of your soul. This is not a light matter. It carries great responsibility: understanding what Jesus has done for you and knowing you belong to Him. Others should also see evidence of your faith in the way you live.
For Christians, this moment carries the responsibility of surrendering everything to the Lord, regardless of how unfaithful you may have been or how good you think you’ve been. We all need Him just as much every day. This is who the Lord’s Supper is for.
I’m going to pray now, and Matthew will come up to lead us in a song. During the song, I will be at the front if you need prayer. You are also free to pray where you are and make things right with the Lord.
Closing Prayer
Lord, who am I that You, the Lord of glory, the Creator of all things, Wisdom personified, would find it fitting to pay for all my reckless behavior? To pay not only for the sins I am unaware of but also for the many I committed knowingly and intentionally.
Lord, who am I that the Son of God would come from heaven, take on a human body, and endure a life of trouble, culminating in a cross and a tomb—rising again and applying the benefits of Your victory to my life through Your Spirit? I am wholly unworthy of such grace. Though I cannot comprehend why You would choose a sinner like me, I joyfully and gratefully receive this gift.
I proclaim that I am forgiven of every past sin, not because I have the power to forgive myself, but because You have declared it. I surrender my life to You and ask that You make me new within. Lord, cause me to know the joy of Your salvation.
In Your name, Jesus, I pray. Amen.
