Third Sunset: The Agony

Jesus continues the road down and now that he has admitted sin’s monstrous darkness into himself, he feels as if robbed of his power. How much do I fear death? All my human fears combined. It is death ultimately what we fear the most. It is the fear of the unknown with no control on our part. But Christian faith reassures us with the reality of death being conquered once and for all with and in Jesus. The unknown aspect of it has been disclosed to the point of us now knowing the alternatives: acceptance of God’s love or rejection of it. We have control to choose. Still my weak faith and ambiguous obedience to God’s will make me shake.  

Jesus is at the moment to disclose it for us. He is at the point of exploring the unknown for us. He has a primordial experience of fear, quaking in the face of the power of death, terror before the abyss of nothingness that makes him tremble to the point that his sweat falls to the ground like drops of blood. Jesus is in my place experiencing the Father through the heart and eyes of sinners. The sun of love has disappeared behind the clouds; only the threat of the divine thunderstorm can be perceived

Jesus in Gethsemane is in a wrestling match with himself. He must struggle until he produces the “thy will be done.” how can I stand the psychological, emotional and spiritual pain, which is worse of any physical one?  Jesus is alone in obedience. I cannot even watch it. It seems to produce repugnance in me instead of sympathy. He is in my place! Neither the sleeplessness that Jesus demands (“watch and pray”) nor the purely human fear and agitation at the imminent suffering can explain this eruption of his pain and my unconcern of it.

We read that Jesus interrupted this struggle several times to look for sympathy, support and help in his disciples. We see their failure; they sleep for sheer sadness, for desperate confusion, but also because of a failure in their obedience, which cannot utter the “yes” of faith to the bitter end, which is not watchful and prayerful enough. The disciples lag behind their own calling; they leave the Lord alone. He must return to the thick of his solitary battle, which does not seem to progress but always stands at the same point of unsurpassable impotence. He prays “with the same words”, even if “the more ardently”. In the battle of obedience no progress need to be felt. Matters can be quite the opposite, in fact. (Balthazar, The threefold Garland, 71-74)