Our Gethsemane

“Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took along Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to feel sorrow and distress. Then he said to them, “My soul is sorrowful even to death. Remain here and keep watch with me.”

Matthew 26:36-38 (NAB)

The garden is where we see the pure humanity of Jesus in raw form. Emotional pain reveals what we value most, from a human perspective. In the garden, Jesus was overwhelmed with emotional pain and desperately sought the support of His closest friends, but they were unavailable since they could barely stay awake.

The word Gethsemane, in Hebrew means, olive press. An olive press crushes the olives, to squeeze the oil out of them. In the garden, Jesus had everything squeezed out of Him, being crushed mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

We may experience a Gethsemane in our own lives, either through some type of sorrow, affliction or a tragedy that we have no control over. It makes us feel helpless, crushed and squeezed. Jesus knows exactly what it’s like to be squeezed like olives in a press. We cannot control these events, but there is always some insight to gain through our pain. The oil squeezed out of us can become a healing balm to share with others. 

My Gethsemane experience occurred when my adult son, Jon, suffered a traumatic brain injury from a motorcycle accident at the age of 43. His life came to a crushing halt, by being physically and mentally disabled, living in a Nursing Facility ever since. 

He’s made some progress since his accident, but the entire event was a Gethsemane experience for both him and me.  If Jon is ever able to talk about it, he will have a good story to tell. The oil produced in our garden has a twofold effect. It’s a healing balm that soothes the wounds in our soul, but it also drips onto others that we meet, who share a similar tragedy. 

At the Nursing home, I met the parents of a young man about my son’s age, who has been there just as long as Jon has. It seems that God brought us together, since we both had in common, adult sons in their early forties, who nearly died and sustained serious brain injuries. Both our sons have made some progress in their recovery, but still require long term care. We share a special bond as parents, having been in the mutual olive press, through similar circumstances.

Meeting Martha and Ray, Andy’s parents, made me aware that God is so fully invested in our lives, that He would intentionally connect us with others who share a similar tragedy. Jesus can empathize with every kind of pain known to man, and He finds a way to let us know that He feels our pain, by sending people to us who suffered a similar Gethsemane.

One healing effect of the oil that is pressed out of us, is the peace in knowing that God loves our children more than we do. It helps me to accept the circumstances, trust God for further healing, and know that this is only a chapter in our lives, not the whole book. 

Remembering that Jesus told us to “let the children come to Him”, there’s a hidden mystery of wisdom in His words. He is saying to all parents, that it’s always best to entrust our children to Jesus, at whatever age they are. In the infinite wisdom of God, He uses every Gethsemane situation to draw us and our children closer to Him. 

Whether we are parents or not, strength comes through times of adversity if we submit all our anxieties to God, who loves the members of our family more than we do. His oil of healing gives us the strength to meet every challenge in the garden, as we learn to trust in His love. 

Someone once said that our pain can either be our prison or your platform. Our platform is used to share our faith with others, by networking with those who share a common suffering. When we are pressed like olives, our oil of healing is poured out onto others as well. 

Jesus asked Peter, James and John to “remain here and keep watch with Me.” We all have a gift of empathy that we can offer. It’s the gift of keeping watch with others while they are going through an olive press. We do it by being there and upholding them in prayer. The Lord assured us that one day the veil of all suffering will be removed and we will see everything clearly.

Lord, bring your healing balm to all who are pressed or grieving today, and strengthen us with your love, so we can empathize and comfort others who are also suffering. Amen

The Guest room

“Say to the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says, “Where is my guest room where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?”’

Then he will show you a large upper room furnished and ready. Make the preparations for us there.”

Mark 14:14-15 (NAB)

Jesus celebrated the Passover each year with His disciples, using one of the upper rooms inside a large home in Jerusalem. He knew that it would be the last Passover celebration with His disciples, so He sent a message to the master of that house, asking where His guest room is, so that they could prepare it for the Passover.

The master, or owner of that large home in Jerusalem, most likely routinely rented out the 2nd and 3rd floor rooms for special occasions. I attached pictures, showing the upper room in Jerusalem, which historians agree to be the one that Jesus used.

The upper room is where Jesus washed His disciples’ feet, shared Passover meals with them every year for three years, and is also where 120 of them gathered and were filled with the Spirit on the day of Pentecost. 

Life changing, supernatural events occurred in that same upper room. One of the most marvelous events was when Jesus entered that room in His resurrected body, and walked through the walls, instead of through the door.  (John 20:19)

Every person is the master of their own spiritual home, deciding to whom and to what they will give their space to. Whatever fills our minds most, whatever desires we yield to the most, and whoever or whatever we pay the most honor to, are the ones in our guest room. 

Jesus is asking for the place of honor in our guest room. Once we quiet the outside noises of the day, and silence the angry and confusing voices all around us, we might hear a soft, gentle voice asking us, 

“Where is My guest room?”

Mary was the first human person who welcomed Jesus into her guest room, which was  her womb. For us, the guest room is not a physical place in our body, but a spiritual one, within our hearts.

If an honored guest or a favorite celebrity came to stay in our home, we would prepare the guest room by cleaning it, putting fresh linens on the bed, and stocking the pantry full of food, so that our guest could dine in excellence. Entertaining a guest is more than giving them a room, but the time spent with our guest. We would not greet them, and leave them with a list of chores, as we run off. 

I can easily slip into a mode of treating Jesus more like a servant than a guest. Servants are those whose job is to please us, but an honored guest is someone we seek to please. Some days I’m handing Jesus a laundry list of prayer requests, then hurrying off to run errands and finish other obligations.

It’s an honor and a joy to have His presence in our guest room, even if nothing got done on our list of prayer requests. It’s about loving Jesus for who He is, and not for what He does for us, because that’s exactly how He loves us.  He wants us to keep asking, seeking and knocking on His door, but to remember that He is also knocking on our door, waiting to be invited in as our guest and dine with us. (Revelation 3:20)

Keeping Jesus as the honored guest and dining with us every day, leads to conversation that consists of speaking and listening. It’s the kind of prayer that deepens our relationship with Him. Maybe that’s what Jesus meant by dining with us.

The guest room in Jerusalem is the place where so many life transforming moments happened during the three years that the disciples spent with Jesus. I can imagine Jesus saying to us, during our hectic daily schedules, 

“I hear you and everything will be okay, just give me my guest room and come dine with Me.”

Lord, today as we invite you into the upper room of our hearts, we thank you for the honor of your Presence, as we dine with you each day. Amen