Gethsemane Meditation by Br Ian

Amongst the trees it is cooler and quiet after the bustle of the city.  It becomes once again our haven; a place for rest.

This is a good place to come and digest the confusion of the upper room.  There we celebrated and ate and drank, pilgrims together to share the festival meal.   He took bread and wine; body and blood?  What did this mean?  What sacrifice will need to be made?

As we journeyed to this garden of peace we talked, questions and parables, laughter and discussion; and yet in him an increasing fear. 

He labelled us deserters.  We who have been so close, we who have followed and obeyed and stood beside him.  Receiving threats and abuse, and patiently waiting for the longed for revolution.

Now he kneels some little distance away.  Bent over and mouthing words I cannot hear.  I want to pray with him, but tiredness is overwhelming.  I want to pray with him but what words should I use?  I want to pray with him, but can I say ‘amen’ to his prayer?

As he prays he shakes and this haven is disturbed by his sobbing and tears.  Our journey to Jerusalem was a journey of hope and expectation, a journey with feasting and celebration at its end.  And now this, this despair and agony, the denial of our loyalty to him and his cause. 

Doubts appear using the darkness to conceal their approach.

Shaken awake I see his face.  The smell of sweat and the grief in his eyes.  Consuming passion has invaded my dreams and I am wrenched from my rest to confront his words. 

Warnings of trials and temptations to come.  How do I respond when I struggle to understand?        

Where will I be led by this man I cannot own?