I originally shared the content below on my Facebook profile (on the date in the Title). To understand more about the “Facebook Memory” posts, please read About: This Blog. Click here to see a full list of the Morgan Facebook Memories.
Mark 14:32-42 is a passage that’s been on my mind a lot the past few months. It’s when Jesus was praying in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before being taken to be crucified. And I realized that today (Thursday) was that day…. On this night, 2000-ish years ago, Jesus was desperately crying out to God on what he knew to be the eve of his crucifixion (Good Friday).
I grew up knowing that Jesus suffered and died for my sins, but I never really understood the suffering… Meaning, I never understood the magnitude of his pain. My mind couldn’t grasp agony and fear he experienced – particularly in the Garden.
I always thought, “well he’s God and he knows the future – he knows he’ll be raised from the dead – so the fear can’t be all that bad, right?”
I ignorantly downplayed the sacrifice Jesus made for me…. thinking that being aware of a hopeful future negates the validity of present suffering.
Now I see the words in this passage and appreciate them in ways I never did before. Now I relate to this passage on a greater level than I ever realized was possible.
Grief, loss, pain, fear, and uncertainty cloud my mind these days. It’s so hard to face the future with fear and anxiety as constant companions. It’s hard to hope when “the worst” has happened and fear tells you it could happen again. Oh, how I hate the “what if’s” of an unknown future.
But Mark 14:32-42 has been popping in my head, and an essential detail dawned on me: I’m not alone in my pain and fear.
Jesus was afraid – desperately afraid. He was so anguished that he was sweating blood. He KNEW God’s plan for his future, and it shook him to the core. He knew the pain he would endure and the torment he would suffer. Yes, he knew that he’d ultimately triumph over death… but he was still scared of the pain and trials in between.
He is the Son of God and he still asked if it were possible to be spared the pain: “take this cup from me“. He didn’t hide his fear, he took his fears to his Father in prayer over and over again. And despite his fear, he chose to trust the will of his Father and he obeyed willingly: “nevertheless, not my will but your will“.
He walked into the pain with eyes wide open. And he did that for me, for all of us.
So I rejoice that I have a Savior who can relate to the pain and fear in my life. I’m thankful that I don’t believe in a God who is distant and uncaring. I have a God who knows me, knows my life, knows what my future holds, and he can lovingly embrace me through all my fears – because he had them too.
Just as I am afraid, Jesus was afraid. Just as I endure trials and pain, Jesus also endured trials and pain. So with Jesus’ help – just as he trusted the will of his Father despite the overwhelming fear and pain – so will I.
Jesus gives me hope despite the fear.
This song (below) has been a favorite of mine for a long time, and it is based on this Mark 14 passage. I highly recommend listening to it.
The excerpt below is by Max Lucado. A friend shared this quote on Facebook and I had to share it, too. His words bring Mark 14:32-42 to life in a raw and relatable way I think many people miss…. I know I did.
—- By Max Lucado —-
“In the Garden
Go with me for a moment to witness what was perhaps the foggiest night in history. The scene is very simple; you’ll recognize it quickly. A grove of twisted olive trees. Ground cluttered with large rocks. A low stone fence. A dark, dark night.
Now, look into the picture. Look closely through the shadowy foliage. See that solitary figure? Flat on the ground. Face stained with dirt and tears. Fists pounding the hard earth. Eyes wide with a stupor of fear. Hair matted with salty sweat. Is that blood on his forehead?
That’s Jesus. Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. Maybe you’ve seen the classic portrait of Christ in the Garden. Kneeling beside a big rock. Snow-white robe. Hands peacefully folded in prayer. A look of serenity on his face. A halo over his head.
The painter didn’t use the gospel of Mark as a pattern. When Mark wrote about that painful night, he used phrases such as these: “Horror and dismay came over him,” “My heart is ready to break with grief,” and “He went forward a little, [and] threw himself on the ground” (14:32–42 NEB).
Mark used black paint to describe this scene. We see an agonizing, straining, and struggling Jesus. We see a “man of sorrows” (Isaiah 53:3 NASB). We see a man struggling with fear, wrestling with commitments, and yearning for relief.
We see Jesus in the fog of a broken heart.
The next time the fog finds you, remember Jesus in the Garden. The next time you think that no one understands or cares, reread the fourteenth chapter of Mark and pay a visit to Gethsemane. And the next time you wonder if God really perceives the pain that prevails on this dusty planet, listen to him pleading among the twisted trees.
The next time you are called to suffer, pay attention.
It may be the closest you’ll ever get to God. Watch closely. It could very well be that the hand that extends itself to lead you out of the fog is a pierced one.”
