Gethsemane
A Holy Week reflection
Taking a break from the usual to ponder the Gospel of Matthew this Holy Week.
On the night in which He was betrayed, Jesus vacillated. Not in terms of commitment. Physically— back and forth, and back and forth he went, to get what he needed.
After the Passover meal, Jesus had summoned the Sons of Thunder to go with him deeper into the olive orchard. “James and John, come watch with me while I go over there and pray.”
36 Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.”
I’ve spent much time in an apple orchard. In November when the apples lay rotting. That sweet sticky smell that will be forever in my nose’s memory.
I wonder how it smelled that night, in that warm olive orchard, as the sweat ran down Jesus’ brow, between his shoulder blades. Probably the smell of fear was stronger than the scent of olives.
Jesus knew death was coming in the next 24 hours. He left his friends to go be alone with God. Prayerful anguish: “Take it away, Father! Please, take this cup away from me, I don’t want it. But I do want your will. I just wish You willed something else.”
But then Jesus needed to be back with his best friends. We get that. Jesus paused the prayers, returned to check in with his sleepy companions.
He wasn’t done praying, however. Back Jesus went to his prayer spot, to his Father, repeating his prayer. “Is there another way? Must I drink this cup?”
And Jesus circled back to check: Are you still with me, guys?
Then back to prayer: Can we do this a different way, Father?
Back to the guys. Three times. Jesus was getting comfort and courage. From both places.
God’s answer, as far as we know, was silence. Jesus knew what that meant.
“Thy will be done,” prayed the Savior.
The mob, led by Judas, came to arrest Him.