The contrast between John’s rendition of Jesus’ passion and Matthew’s is striking, and no more so than here in the Garden of Gethsemane.  John, the gospel that focuses on Jesus as God, gives us a completely in control and unemotional Jesus in His last days.  Matthew, the gospel that focuses on Jesus as Messiah and fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies, gives us perhaps the most intimate look at Jesus’ humanity.  Tears, terror, loneliness, and sorrow are not the typical emotions we associate with Jesus the Messiah, but here they are in all their familiar glory.

Jesus is facing betrayal, denial, torture, and death, and He knows its coming.  And in His humanness, He reacts much as the rest of us would.  We often so focus on Jesus’ divinity that we ignore His human fear and pain.  In fact, we often call fear and pain “weaknesses”.  But without them, we are not fully human, for without fear and pain, we can never learn courage and endurance.

What are your fears today?  What is your pain?  Does it help you to know that Jesus faced these as well, and overcame them not through a divine magic but with the help of His friends (who did indeed show their weakness when they fell asleep on their terrified friend).  In your fear and pain, do you follow the world’s path and try to muscle through them, tough them out, and quietly endure them alone?  Or do you follow Jesus’ example and seek empathy, prayer, and community through your sisters and brothers in Christ?

The contrast between John’s rendition of Jesus’ passion and Matthew’s is striking, and no more so than here in the Garden of Gethsemane.  John, the gospel that focuses on Jesus as God, gives us a completely in control and unemotional Jesus in His last days.  Matthew, the gospel that focuses on Jesus as Messiah and fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies, gives us perhaps the most intimate look at Jesus’ humanity.  Tears, terror, loneliness, and sorrow are not the typical emotions we associate with Jesus the Messiah, but here they are in all their familiar glory.

Jesus is facing betrayal, denial, torture, and death, and He knows its coming.  And in His humanness, He reacts much as the rest of us would.  We often so focus on Jesus’ divinity that we ignore His human fear and pain.  In fact, we often call fear and pain “weaknesses”.  But without them, we are not fully human, for without fear and pain, we can never learn courage and endurance.

What are your fears today?  What is your pain?  Does it help you to know that Jesus faced these as well, and overcame them not through a divine magic but with the help of His friends (who did indeed show their weakness when they fell asleep on their terrified friend).  In your fear and pain, do you follow the world’s path and try to muscle through them, tough them out, and quietly endure them alone?  Or do you follow Jesus’ example and seek empathy, prayer, and community through your sisters and brothers in Christ?

So many of our usual assumptions are challenged or even destroyed in this half of chapter of Matthew’s gospel.  Having heard the story so often, it’s hard to understand just how unexpected this story is.

Heroes aren’t tortured and killed (v2)
Religious leaders are not villains (v4)
Money is to be spent to better the world, not for frivolous ceremony (v.9)
Poverty is fixable (v11)
Disciples are not betrayers (v15)
Free will and predestination are opposites and mutually exclusive (v24)

The story of Jesus regularly challenges our assumptions.  Which should lead us to ask not about the veracity of the story but of the reality of those assumptions.  Because too often we let our assumptions about the world override Jesus’ story, His Word, and even His commands to us.  We justify the bible, we explain away elements of the gospel story, and we ignore His commands because, well, things just don’t work that way.  A loving God would never tell me to endanger my family by giving away all I have to the poor.  If enough people say something, it must be true, especially if it’s said on Facebook!  Jesus must want me to be happy and comfortable or He wouldn’t have given me all I have.

But when God’s commands to us conflict with “what we’ve always known”, we need to side with God’s commands.  Seldom does He call us to something expected or easy.

So many of our usual assumptions are challenged or even destroyed in this half of chapter of Matthew’s gospel.  Having heard the story so often, it’s hard to understand just how unexpected this story is.

Heroes aren’t tortured and killed (v2)
Religious leaders are not villains (v4)
Money is to be spent to better the world, not for frivolous ceremony (v.9)
Poverty is fixable (v11)
Disciples are not betrayers (v15)
Free will and predestination are opposites and mutually exclusive (v24)

The story of Jesus regularly challenges our assumptions.  Which should lead us to ask not about the veracity of the story but of the reality of those assumptions.  Because too often we let our assumptions about the world override Jesus’ story, His Word, and even His commands to us.  We justify the bible, we explain away elements of the gospel story, and we ignore His commands because, well, things just don’t work that way.  A loving God would never tell me to endanger my family by giving away all I have to the poor.  If enough people say something, it must be true, especially if it’s said on Facebook!  Jesus must want me to be happy and comfortable or He wouldn’t have given me all I have.

But when God’s commands to us conflict with “what we’ve always known”, we need to side with God’s commands.  Seldom does He call us to something expected or easy.

Listening to a new author as she reflected on this very passage from Matt., I was shocked that I had never thought about what Jesus really seems to be saying.  I’ve always seen this as a call to action, to helping the hungry, the naked, the stranger, the sick, and truly it is.  But the typical thought is that we will see Christ when we act like Christ.

But where do we see Christ in this image?  Isn’t Jesus found, the very Imago Dei, in those who are broken?  Isn’t Jesus found in the hungry, the naked, the stranger, and the sick?  Why do we spend our time trying so hard to “have it all together”?  to be successful, whatever that might mean in our particular context?  to NOT be hungry, naked, a stranger, or sick?  What if our call is not to be stronger, fuller, or “more” but is instead to acknowledge our brokenness, our weakness, our emptiness, our “less-ness”.  What if only by truly admitting our weakness and even embracing it can we truly know Jesus?  What if what we need is not Jesus’ healing so that we are stronger (for when we are strong we are far more prone to walk away from Jesus) but His merciful presence in the midst of our sickness?

Perhaps Paul knew what he was talking about when he claimed that in our weakness, Jesus is proved strong.