Peter J. Leithart, writing for First Things, here, http://www.firstthings.com/web-exclusives/2014/12/spirit-in-flesh gives us something to read, reread, and ponder deeply. A small excerpt:
A coming in “flesh” is not simply an advent “as man.” In Scripture, “flesh” has a more specific connotation. It’s the biblical name for “the weakness of the human. . . . It is the way we are vulnerable, exposed.” We are flesh because “our life is subject to touch, that is, to what gives pleasure and pain, gives joy, and makes wounding possible” (Theodore Jennings, Jr.). The Word makes himself weak and exposes himself to pain. If you prick him, he bleeds; if you tickle him, he laughs; if you crucify him, he dies. To say the Word becomes flesh is to say the Word becomes woundable and dwells among us.
Death is part of life. God made it that way. (The adversary did not.)
Jesus, the Word, the Logos, knew. He knew what it was intimately for He created it.
1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.2He was in the beginning with God. 3All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4In him was life, and the life was the light of men.5The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
I don’t suppose that Jesus knew as he breathed as you and me as he had known before His advent in flesh. He felt everything we feel. Insecurity. Awkwardness. I’m sure he found that one girl down the street particularly cute, and felt shy, same as I did all those years ago. He was a man. I’m certain he figured it all out as he grew. He knew His Father. He knew the indwelling Spirit. He knew.
He knew as only God can know before he took on our flesh, our weakness. He came anyway.
By the garden, He knew, limited as His realization may have been, He knew. Nevertheless, not my will, but Thine. He knew. He had to have realized the infinite breadth of the sacrifice he was about to make–how utterly it would darken his soul, but that was surely secondary to being familiar with Roman crucifixion. He was going to die in the utmost of pain, in frustration and fatigue, struggling even for every breath, as the weight of not only his own body, but the weight of the sins of us all, even the weight and vastness of the entire universe compressing upon Him. He knew. The creator knew it was required for the ultimate reality he created.
We don’t understand it. We can try. We should try, but we do not understand it.
Most of all, while He did it for all, all of everything, he would have done it just for me.
My sin drove the nails.