Using Ignatian-style meditation, (which calls for you to imagine yourself within a scripture story), I put myself into the scene to try to imagine what Jesus was thinking and feeling on that night so long ago.
Jesus knows his time on earth is coming to an end.
He has just finished celebrating the Passover with his disciples. His mood all evening has been uncertain – veering from moments of transcendence – as in the institution of the Eucharist, to moments of inspiration – as in the washing of the feet, to dark moments of foreboding.
The Apostles scramble to keep up with him. A few, like John and Peter seem to, but the rest are oblivious. Jesus has done all he can with this group. He is worn-out and seeks only a little peace and solace before his coming ordeal.
They head out to the Garden of Gethsemane. A quiet, solitary place Jesus has gravitated to many times before. Although only a short distance away from the city, it seems remote, peaceful, and quietly cool, after an exhausting few weeks.
Most of his followers settle in for a nap, but three of his disciples - Peter, James and John, accompany him further. He asks them to hold back while he goes on a little farther to pray to his Father in private, as he often does.
Out of view of his disciples he gives into his despair and fear and falls to the ground. He knows what is coming – a painful, lingering death that he's not sure must happen. He is afraid, despairing, doubting. “Couldn't there be another way? Couldn't this cup, this trial, pass me by? Please Father?”
He throws himself on his Father's mercy, and yet answers his own question, “Your will, not mine, be done. You have been with me Father throughout my whole life – through temptations, triumphs, and setbacks; inspiring my teaching, enabling my miracles, and answering my prayers. I trust you Father - with my body, with my future, with my life. I trust you.”
That prayer seems to have provided Jesus with some peace, some solace. He picks himself up off the ground, wipes his face, and returns to where Peter, James and John wait, and finds them deeply asleep. Struck by their obliviousness to his struggle, he chides them gently under his breath. “Could you not watch one hour with me? The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
All remains quiet. Taking advantage of the continued peace he returns to pray a while longer. This time, having already dealt with his personal fears and doubts, he turns his prayer to the disciples and the mission that he leaves in their hands.
How will they manage when he's gone? How will they and his church survive, never mind thrive? Once again, he struggles with doubt and despair. If only he had more time with them, more time to teach them, to continue to spread his message about the coming of God's kingdom.
Once again, he receives an answer, this time from his Father: “Trust that I will send the Holy Spirit to support and instruct them. Your time on earth is finished. You have done all you can. Now you must follow through with your final task and leave your apostles and the church they will start up in my hands.” Once again Jesus bows his head in acceptance. “I trust you Father,” he says, and once again he is flooded with peace.
Returning to his disciples, he finds them still asleep. “You are in the Holy Spirit's hands now, he muses. Get your rest while you can, for the peace you enjoy now is not long for this world.”
Looking around in the dark and still quiet Garden, he returns once more pray.
This time he prays for all people – for his friends – Mary, Martha and Lazarus - who will grieve for his loss; for his followers who will despair that he and all he taught them ended with his death; for his mother, and Mary Magdalene. He prays as well for the people and religious leaders who will play a role in his death, and for the Romans who will carry it out.
Love pours out of him, for those who love and hate him alike, especially the haters. They, in particular, are in great need of love and forgiveness, for they have been misled and manipulated. They are in thrall to false gods who incite them to jealousy, fear, anger and hate. Jesus must leave them, too, to his Father, trusting in His mercy. He offers one last prayer for them, a prayer that has been in his mind often lately. "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do." Again, flooded with peace, he rises and returns to his disciples.
Off in the distance he sees torchlights approaching and the sound of a coming crowd. He awakens his disciples. They are disoriented and afraid. He cannot comfort them or reassure them now. His fate is upon him.
Judas, his betrayer, steps forward, a pleading look on his face, seeking forgiveness, or understanding, at least. Jesus looks away. Setting his face like flint, he tells Judas to do what he has come for.
The time for others has passed. It's just Jesus and his Father now. He hands himself over to the temple guards. The final chapter has begun.
‘I gave my back to those who beat me,
my cheeks to those who plucked my beard;
My face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.
The Lord God is my help, therefore I am not disgraced;
I have set my face like flint,
knowing that I shall not be put to shame.’ Isaiah 50: 6-7
To be continued . . .