Matthew 26:36-39

Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and agitated. Then he said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.” And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.”

Whenever folks read the Gethsemane scene in Matthew, they are almost always struck by Jesus’ level of distress. If asked to name what strikes them, they invariably use the word “human” when speaking of Jesus. As in, “he seems so very human in this scene.”

I think that reaction reveals two really interesting things. First, deep down we know that suffering is part and parcel of what it means to be human. It is not the only thing, of course – joy, happiness, contentment, and pleasure all also color our lives. But suffering is most definitely a part of our experience. We are not perfect or completely sufficient unto ourselves and this life is filled with hardship.

Second, I also think it’s interesting that we regularly seem surprised that Jesus suffers as we do. For that’s the other thing people often say when reading this part of the story: “he seems so much like us.” No matter how often we may affirm the incarnational thrust of the Creeds that Jesus is “fully human and fully divine,” in our heart of hearts we think of Jesus more regularly in terms of divinity. And for many of us, divinity means dispassionate.

And so I wonder: might it be that part of Jesus’ mission is to reveal to us the heart of God as passionate and vulnerable? Passionately in love with the whole creation and vulnerably willing to expose God’s own self to the suffering of that beloved creation out of love?

As we approach Jerusalem and the end of the story of Jesus’ earthly life, it occurs to me that we also come full circle, returning to the promise that Jesus is Emmanuel, the God who is with us. More than that, Jesus is the God who is with us by being one of us. And to this God we can offer any prayer, lodge any concern, confide any hope, for this God understands us fully and complete because this God, in Jesus, really did become “so very human.”

Prayer: Dear God, remind us today and always that in Jesus you took on our lot and our life that we might never be alone and be able to live amid our suffering with hope, courage, and joy. In Jesus’ name, Amen.