“Then Jesus went with His disciples to a place called Gethsemane.” (Matthew 26:26 NIV)
In His final hours, Jesus invited His disciples into the epicenter of His pain. He didn’t have to. In fact, there were plenty of previous times where Jesus left His disciples to go and pray on His own. But on this most pressing night, He chose to invite them along. It seems He would have known full well that they’d fall asleep amidst His misery. But maybe sleeping friends nearby were more solace than no friends at all?
I routinely suffer from nightmares, often waking in a panic. Sometimes my husband is stirred by my sleep-heavy frenzy, sometimes he sleeps through. Even his sleeping form is a comfort to me as I return to reality and fight off the fright.
Jesus, in an effort to be more fully known to His friends, invited His disciple close, even in what most likely felt like His weakest hour. I have learned, it is an honor suffer alongside another. It is only in suffering where we learn each other more deeply. I have had the privilege of sitting with many family members beside death beds of their loved ones. I was honored to pray with each of my parents in their last moments on earth, knit to them in sorrow as their souls sought safe passage from this life to the next. I’ve walked with a mother and father as they decided to donate their dying son’s still-functioning organs to children in great need. These moments of shared grief bond us to one another in a unique and holy way.
“I want to know Christ – yes, to know the power of His resurrection and participation in His sufferings, becoming like Him in death, and so somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.” (Philippians 3:10-11 NIV)
I read the word ‘know’ in scripture and I think about it in the biblical sense. Adam ‘knew’ his wife, Eve and they conceived Cain. He ‘knew’ her again, and begot Able. To ‘know’ as described in scripture is so much more than a simple introduction or a shared meal. Knowing implies a oneness, an intermingling of souls and an amalgamated future. To ‘know’ Christ is to abandon ourselves to Him entirely without regard for personal well-being or promotion. That being said, how many of us truly ‘know’ Him?
“Through the prism of tears I have seen a suffering God.” (Nicholas Wolterstaff)
This has been my experience, as well. The full picture of God is not just a happy God, but a God who laments over the lostness of His sons and daughters, a God who continually longs for the return of His children to right relationship with Him. It seems that God is always grieving in some form or fashion. Having suffered many significant losses myself, I can relate to this. Though I am present, there is always some part of me still hurting over the people who are no longer at the proverbial table.
It seems to me that God allows us to experience suffering because it’s a means of knowing Him more wholly. Without tears, we would only experience a façade of God; a party version of His true self. No, to really know God intimately, we must also know the tearful truth: He suffers at the hands of His wayward offspring. He waits in heartache for His kids to come home. He’s bankrupted Himself to provide for their return.
I remember it well, my moment of revelation at the Rock of Agony. Those moments were the pinnacle of my Holy Land experience. It is a privilege to share the heart of God, even if it means sipping at His pain. How wondrous that He would bring us so close!
Lord, first off, please forgive us. Forgive us for all the times You have invited us to Gethsemane and we’ve fallen asleep on site. Forgive us for resenting and refusing Your cup of suffering, when we could have shared in the things that hurt Your heart. We realize now, we could have alleviated some small measure of Your pain by simply sitting with You in Your sorrow. We want to know You, Lord. We want to know Your heart and share in Your joy and pain alike. Strengthen our souls to withstand the agony of the things that injure Your heart day after day. May we somehow comfort You as You continually comfort us. Amen.