Measure your life by loss instead of gain
Not by the wine drunk, but by the wine poured forth
For love’s strength standeth in love’s sacrifice
And whosoever suffereth most hath most to give. –Hudson Taylor
God has the most to give, has sacrificed the most, and loves the most.
I just returned from a late evening walk in the park down the street. The moon isn’t full yet but it’s only Tuesday night. By Friday night it will be a brilliant globe of light, whether visible or not. The moon is full every year at Passover. It was full the night Jesus led his band of closest men outside to await arrest in a garden.
When we remember the Passover Lamb of God, the horror of His suffering, the amount of love He poured out for our sakes, and the fact that He gave up the glory of Heaven, and took on the sins of the entire world to save us . . . it is unfathomable.
Seeing the human side of Jesus brings perspective and a deeper understanding of the love He has for us and is why I wrote the devotional book, God with Us. My effort was to create a contemplative “journey through the Gospels” and, so, I imagined that dark, moonlit night in the Garden of Gethsemane through James’ eyes, one of the three men Jesus invited further into the garden with Him to pray; it was a good distance away from the others for good reason. Here’s an artist’s creative rendering, so to speak, as I prayerfully imagined the meaning of that night about two thousand years ago.
James, son of Zebedee . . .
The soft glow of the oil lamp gently lit the face of our Master. We were about to leave the upper room. His expression was warm and serene when He said, “I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
After He said this, he looked up toward heaven and prayed. Whenever Jesus prayed out loud in our midst, I was transported. At those times, it felt as though He took us to heaven with Him. I can still hear His fervent voice as He prayed that last time with us. Intimate and beautiful, His words of intercession and communion with His Father revealed a heart full of hope, vision, and care. First, He prayed to His Father for His own glorification, then for us, His disciples, and lastly, for all those in the future who would believe in Him.
I’ve come to see His prayer at that time as a bridge He was crossing. He was leaving us to cross over to His Father and return to His heavenly glory. But during that moment of prayer, we stood on that bridge beside Him. WE looked into heaven with Him.
I know that He always intercedes for His own–and will continue until we all become answers to His prayer. For He prayed that we who were His would see Him in His glory and be there with Him. Yes, He prayed that we would rejoice with Him in His glory–I know He prays this still, for those yet to join Him.
And He prayed that we would all become one, even as He is one with His Father.
Our hearts had soared during His prayer.
But everything changed suddenly in the darkness of the olive grove. His prayers changed just as drastically. We could hardly bear to listen. After hearing His anguished cries, John, Peter, and I fell asleep during the long stretch of lonely silence that followed.
We know now that His agonizing prayer in the garden was another bridge: between our damnation and God’s salvation. This was a bridge we could not bear to share with Him. He had thrown Himself down upon that bridge–and He was alone. In our despair, we could not bear to keep watch with Him, so we fell asleep.
“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” He had confided to us as He took us deeper into the garden–so that He could pray privately. He knew we could hear Him. Surely, He knew. And I don’t know why or how we could have fallen asleep. But in doing so we added disappointment to His terrible grief.
The garden was so dark. Gloom and despair hung heavily in the air all around us. We were hiding from the authorities, or so I thought. But Jesus wasn’t hiding–He was waiting. He knew His betrayer would lead the rulers and soldiers to arrest Him in the garden, just as He knew the rest of us would desert Him–and scatter to safety. That is why He brought us to the garden, away from the upper guest room. If we had stayed there, surely, we would have been arrested with Him.
“Are you asleep?” Jesus sadly asked us, not once, but three times, each time stepping away from His prayer-bridge to check on us. He wanted us to be near Him. He didn’t want to be alone.
What good were we to Him? I don’t know. As a man, He needed us. As God, He knew the terror that faced Him. We didn’t know–so we left Him there on that terrifying bridge.
Finally, Jesus’ prayer ended and He crossed the bridge. “Not My will, but Your will be done.”
The night has changed as I finish writing this. Dark, stormy clouds have moved in. It’s thundering softly. I am thankful that the Holy Spirit quickened my thoughts about Jesus in the garden, in weather probably simlilar to this in Charlotte. When I glanced up into the moonlit sky earlier, I felt the presence of Jesus. We’re in communion now because of the decision He made that night. I am so blessed to remember what He has done for me, and to thank Him for the bridge of sacrifice He crossed so that I could know Him and His extravagant, limitless, unconditional LOVE.
Watch this and be blessed — it is called How He Loves Us – Kim Walker/Jesus Culture.