God has simply poured himself upon me this Easter
season. I asked to know more of him, and
he has faithfully provided exactly that.
The past few weeks have brought me into a deeper understanding of some
of the less desirable emotions of Easter; Jesus’ loneliness, sorrow and even
anxiety that culminated in the Garden of Gethsemane.
We encourage our children (and hopefully practice this in
our own lives as well) to pick good friends.
Jesus picked twelve and we even reference them as “the twelve.” Now, there’s some notoriety for you. What if I started referring to my closest
friends as “the eight?” “The eight and I
are meeting at IHOP this morning for breakfast.” That’s one way to get some strange
looks. Ok… MORE strange looks. And perhaps even a commitment, though not so
much to any one person; More like to a PLACE.
Of the twelve, he picked perhaps the three with whom he was
closest to accompany him into the garden that night. He then entrusted these three with the intimate
details of his heart; that he was “sorrowful to the point of death.” He then asked only that they “stay and watch”
with him. Yet, in the hour of his
greatest need, instead of standing beside him, they fell asleep.
As Jesus waged on against the
battle in his flesh to run away from God’s calling on his life, and as he stood
without any mortal support, God came to his rescue. Luke 22:44 tells us that “An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him.” For what did he need this
strength? So that he could stand up to
the mob that was even now approaching the scene? Yes, that was to come, but instantly there is
reference to the fact that, “And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly,
and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.” He used the strength he received
to pray more earnestly. And from that
place came all the power he would need to accomplish that evening’s agenda.
Luke 22:45 tells us that, “When he
rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep,
exhausted from sorrow.” Note the black
and white contrast between Jesus and the disciples in this moment. He is empowered with strength from
above. Despite the fact that he is the
one who is going to have to carry the heaviest burden, he is not derailed from
his calling. The disciples on the other
hand were asleep; “Exhausted from sorrow.”
Now, if I had asked three of my eight
for help after an evening trip to IHOP (hey, they’re open 24 hours), only to
have them become so caught up with how my misery was going to cost them some of
their personal comfort and so they simply went to sleep on me, offering me no
support at all, I’d have a few choice words for them. “Really?
REALLY? I’m more depressed than
anyone has ever known or experienced but you just sleep? What kind of friends are you? Can you only think of yourself?!“
Jesus did also have a few choice words
for the three of his twelve on that night.
But they went something like this, "Why
are you sleeping?" he asked them. "Get up and pray so that you will not fall into
temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak." Well, it
appears his approach was slightly different than what mine would have been. He didn’t jump down their throats for leaving
him high and dry in his moment of greatest need. He didn’t focus on any of his own needs
stemming from anguish, depression, or anxiety.
No, instead, even in THIS moment, he focused on what would benefit THEM
most. He looked at the big picture, and
chose to point them to how their choices were going to affect their future
ability to resist temptation, which would in turn lead to them having to live
with the consequences of poor choices.
Even in this moment, when in his flesh, it could easily have been all
about him and where he was imminently headed, he desired most to equip them for
future success.
So often we focus on the physical pain he endured on that
dark day. But today I am confronted with
the other elements of his suffering. We
have all heard, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never
hurt me.” We also all know this is
complete balderdash. Words, and the
relationships from which they flow, hold far more power than physical suffering
could ever brandish. But they did
brandish that upon him, and with a morbid curiosity we are both absorbed and
repelled by the garish atrocity painted by the scene itself.
To ask your dearest friends to stand beside you only to have
them disappoint, what loneliness and utter abandon must he have felt? But this was only the beginning of the
emotional and spiritual anguish he would endure. For not only was he completely abandoned by
his dearest earthly friends, but as he hung on the cross that day, even his
Father, God himself, who had before responded with an angel to strengthen him
in the garden, looked away.
No one but Christ has ever experienced abandonment of this
degree; isolation of this magnitude.
Yes, his cruel physical torment is beyond our imaginations, but do we
understand that his emotions and his spirit were just as bloodied and raw?
Pastor Johnny reminded his congregation last Sunday that God
is equal parts holy and love. For every
ounce of God’s holiness, there is an ounce of love. For every drop of justice demanded, there is
a drop of grace applied. Some might even
contest that for just these reasons, there can be no hell. God loves humanity too much to actually send
his beloved creations to a place of eternal damnation. And perhaps I can see the balance this view
point would like to embrace. That we are
instead living in personal hells resulting from our choices while still here on
this earth; and that that alone is enough suffering administered upon us.
But what of the cross?
If this were all there was to the case, simply living out the natural
consequences of our own actions, why would Jesus’ death have been
necessitated? Didn’t God love him just
as much as any of us? Why would his life
and all of his personal suffering have been demanded? He is perfect? What kind of natural consequence would that
reflect?
No, the balance between God’s holiness and God’s love was
perfectly weighted by Jesus’ act of selfless love on that dark day. Any reckoning that overlooks the magnitude of
this contribution will be flawed. Any
logic that believes God would allow his son to endure this comprehensive level
of suffering without necessity is also flawed as to do so would negate both God’s
holiness and his love.
Hebrews 12:2 tells 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.” Upon what joy
could he have possibly focused as he endured all of this suffering? In light of his choice to never focus on
himself, I don’t believe this was merely Jesus transporting himself out of suffering
by contemplating his soon return to heaven and reunification with his
Father. Rather, I believe he focused
upon the thoughts that he would rise, ultimately conquering death once and for
all and that his act would ultimately be the deciding factor in the redemption
of his beloved children. We were the joy
set before him. His ability, and his
alone, to redeem us to himself.
My heart passionately cries within me
that I won’t quietly dismiss his sacrifice.
I will consider it and will follow it at all cost as this is the only
appropriate response to the gift that cost all.
Music that accompanies this reflection:
Redman's Nothing But The Blood ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeOmzEq-uC8
Jesus Culture's Nothing But The Blood ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufgSSiEgDdY
Hillsong's What Can Wash Away My Sin & Hosanna ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFoIL_3YmQs
