Born to Die, part twenty-nine

I quote from the Scholars Version translation to which many members of the so-called Jesus Seminar contributed:

And they go to a place the name of which was Gethsemane, and he says to his disciples, “Sit down here while I pray.”

And he takes Peter and James and John along with him, and he grew apprehensive and full of anguish. He says to them, “I’m so sad I could die. You stay here and be alert!”

And he would move on a little, fall on the ground, and pray that he might avoid the crisis, if possible. And he would say, “Abba (Father), all things are possible for you! Take this cup away from me! But it’s not what I want {that matters}, but what you want.”

And he returns and finds them sleeping, and says to Peter, “Simon, are you sleeping? Couldn’t you stay awake for one hour? Be alert and pray that you won’t be put to the test! Though the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak.”

And once again he went away and prayed, saying the same thing. And once again he came and found them sleeping, since their eyes had grown very heavy, and they didn’t know what to say to him.

And he comes a third time and says to them, “You may as well sleep on now and get your rest. It’s all over! The time has come! Look, the son of Adam is being turned over to foreigners. Get up, let’s go! See for yourselves! Here comes the one who is going to turn me in.”
--Mark 14:32-41

Since I made note of the source, it seems only right to inform further that the seminar deemed none of the words attributed to Jesus in this passage to be authentic (red letter). With the Gospel of Mark widely accepted as the earliest of the canonical gospels, it is interesting to see how the early church was already putting its spin on the meaning of Jesus’ life and death by the way it reported his ministry of some half-century earlier.

I was fortunate to have a minister father who considered it important to communicate the whole, the complete story, which includes this glimpse at an all-too-human Jesus that would prefer not to have to die at this time in this way. Gethsemane serves as the gateway from the Upper Room to the Cross, and it is critical that we understand this “crisis of faith” in the context of death’s inevitability. This cup will not pass from any one of us—Jesus included—and so the lessons of acceptance and release are graphically and dramatically portrayed in such a way as to ensure that there is no question but what Jesus demonstrated the way to die even the most horrible and humiliating of deaths. Be not afraid is an empty phrase if not borne out by the Experience that actualizes the Truth in which Faith resides.

One spring in my early teens Mom thought that it would be fun to grow some potatoes in our garden. Starting the roots was a late winter activity that pointed in the hopeful direction of new life erupting after a seemingly deathly cold and darkness that nothing could survive. What Mom wasn’t sure of was the proper time to plant the sprouts. That’s where Grandma Hanna entered the picture. A fount of the kind of wisdom that comes only to elders, Grandma knew that Good Friday was the correct time to introduce the roots to the soil. That next fall we enjoyed deliciously fresh home-grown spuds (one meal’s worth, as I recall) that were the product of three generations’ labor and wisdom.

It was with this memory, combined with the profound impression made early in my development of the events of Holy Week leading to Easter, that I planted two sages and two iceplants today. I know that they will eventually die, I just hope later than sooner. I’ve begun yet another relationship, this time with four plants. Relationships begin, end, and begin again, forever sustained by their infinitely eternal Source. Jesus’ gospel validates the revered Shema by proclaiming God the primordial, the primary, the fundamental relationship of our mortal experience. All else becomes secondary, tangential. As revealed in the crucifixion, our living truly is preparation for our dying, with the primary objective being the realization, nurture, and actualization of the ultimate relationship with the One who creates, sustains, and receives.

I have no idea what Jesus’ thoughts actually were as he hung from that cross, but surely he knew he was going to die. He exemplified the truly intimate, personal nature of the relationship between creature and Creator. Through Jesus’ death the Christ burst forth as the genuine spirit of faith that understands forgiveness as the way to communion, the ultimate relationship. Thank you, Jesus, for showing me the way to die and for the assurance that I have nothing to fear but my failure to develop that relationship with God which, when totally engaged through heart, mind, and soul, knows no end.