Welcome to the climax of the Christian year. This service, much like Holy Week itself, is all over the place. Highs. Lows. Joy. Suffering. Light. Darkness. Everything we talk about all year long, comes to a head in this holiest of times.
With such a long gospel reading today, there is much to preach on. In a hundred odd verses we have the entire ministry and person of Christ on display in high speed. On a Sunday such as this, there really isn’t a wrong way to go. This year, however, I’m going to focus on the verse that immediately stood out to me.
Early in our reading, Jesus is in the garden of Gethsemane praying. He’s in the garden praying for the strength to do what he must do. He’s in communion with the Father and the Spirit. Angels minister to him. He’s preparing for the final battle. The ultimate defeat of sin, death, and the Devil.
In these final chapters of the gospels, I find that it’s easy to get caught up in the story. As we saw today, things move very quickly once Jesus enters Jerusalem. The final chapters are full of emotion, disorienting, and — let’s be honest — there’s an urge to read it quickly and get past the uncomfortable parts; to look away.
Getting engulfed in the quick pace of the story, I think sometimes we forget what the cross is about. We get so tied up thinking about the pain and suffering (truly awful) and forget the why and the what.
But, as the Church calendar forces us to do this week. Let us slow down here in the final hours of the story. Let us reflect. As we approach the cross, we must remember that this is the moment. This is when and how we are saved. This is the single most important moment in creation. The cross is when all is reconciled, when the New Creation explodes into the old and broken.
So, back to Gethsemane, we are not witnessing a quiet prayer unexpectedly interrupted. We are witnessing Jesus arming himself for battle.
And what does he do? In the moments before his betrayal. In his last moments before battle. Jesus prays. Jesus prays and he asks the disciples to pray, too.
If they knew. If they fully understood. The disciples would be preparing for what was to come. They are about to witness the most amazing (and dreadful) thing. They are days away from leading thousands. From seeing the empty tomb. From Christ establishing his church. From seeing Satan’s empire of sin and death defeated. If they knew, they’d be praying. They’d be asking questions. They’d be listening.
Instead… “And when he [Jesus] rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping…”
Jesus says to them, “Why do you sleep? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”
This is the verse that stood out to me this year. I don’t know about y’all, but with all the stuff going on around us — politics, economics, family, work, sickness, death, worry, anxiety — I’m just exhausted. I’m tired and some days I feel like I wander through things asleep. It’s too much to think about, so I just turn it all off.
I should be awake. I should be praying and waiting for the bridegroom to arrive. My lantern should be full and the wick trimmed. Instead, I nap. Instead, I daydream. Instead, I stare out the window. Instead, I scroll.
The words of Jesus challenged me, today. I pray they challenge you, too. We should remember that we stand in an amazing place. We stand in the early moments of the New Creation. We stand as members of Christ’s Holy Church. We stand in the shadow of the cross and the light of the resurrection.
Why, then, do we sleep? The Lord says, “Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”
A professor in seminary, Dr. Meeks, once gave an amazing explanation of prayer that has stuck with me ever since. He said that prayer is not primarily about us asking God for stuff. That’s there, of course, but Dr. Meeks said that prayer was primarily about us revealing ourselves entirely to God. Everything. Our stresses. Our sins. Our worries. The stupid things we want, but know we shouldn’t. The things we’ve made into idols. The things we think we can fix ourselves. Prayer is when we completely show ourselves to God in total vulnerability. It’s when we give him all of us and when we open ourselves entirely to his will. It is a complete and total revelation of ourselves before God.
For me, this was freeing. I came from a background where prayer was special words. Where you had to say the right things. Where you had to have profound things to say. Where you had to petition God in just the right way; just the right order.
To look then at prayer not as something that depends on my words, but instead just me sitting like a child with Jesus was freeing. Prayer, then, isn’t about remembering the right things to ask for. It’s not about a time limit or certain quota. It’s just coming to him, fully. Opening your heart and mind to his love and his presence. Revealing it all to him and being open to receive the good gifts that he has in store for you.
Friends, that is my call to you today. Don’t spend Holy Week looking for the right words of contrition. Don’t seek for just the right feeling of sadness and guilt. Don’t spend it avoiding the cross and your own sin, either. Don’t speed through the next seven days so you can get to the chocolate without the bitter.
“Pray that you may not enter into temptation. […] Rise and pray […]”
You see, we are not all that different from the disciples in the garden of Gethsemane. We ignore Jesus' calls to prayer. We sleep when we should be listening. We run away from him when things get too tough.
But, like with the disciples, Jesus doesn’t give up on us. Jesus didn’t die on the cross to make us sad. He’s always ready to give us another chance. He’s always ready to listen.
“Why do you sleep? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”
Prayer doesn’t require the right words or even the right thoughts. This Holy Week, let us make a special effort to spend time in prayer with our Lord. A time to reveal ourselves entirely. A time to open our hearts to his love and wisdom. A time to slow down, awaken ourselves from a numb slumber, and be with Jesus.
As Jesus was led away from the high priest’s courtyard, he saw Peter deny him, but he still looked at him with such love that it caused Peter to weep bitterly.
On the cross, in pain and suffering, Jesus still heard the words of a convicted criminal “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingly power.”
To that man on the cross, to Peter, and to us Jesus says, “Truly I say to you, […] you will be with me in Paradise.”
In our weakness, in our brokenness, in our sin, and in our shame; Jesus listens. He listens and he answers. There is nothing we can reveal to him that he doesn’t already know. Nothing we can say that will shock him.
There is much, however, that we can learn about ourselves in the safety of his love. Remember, the cross wasn’t for Jesus. He was doing just fine without it. The cross was for us. He did it all for our good. He did it because of his deep, deep love for us.
In the words of the Mississippi Mass Choir, “It wasn’t the nails that held Jesus to the cross. But, it was love for you and me.”
“Why do you sleep? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”
“Truly I say to you, […] you will be with me in Paradise.”
