The Pleading Christ
Scripture Reading: Mark 14:12-42
Meditation
It’s a night of sacrifice. The City of David is filled with the cry of lambs led to the slaughter. Jesus also cries but all he hears is silence from the Father.
As the Feast of Unleavened Bread begins, the Passover lambs are chosen, led out, and killed. In an upper room, Jesus, the Passover Lamb, gathers with his disciples. In the bread and the wine, he breaks his body and pours out his blood—a new covenant of forgiveness for many.
On this night, Jesus isn’t filled with sorrow.
He’s flooded with it.
Distress has deluged his soul. Fear has engulfed his future. And a torrent of trouble has swept away his hope. He’s just before the point of death, still thrashing in the water, struggling for every breath. But before he drowns in his despair, before he goes under for the last time, before the beginning of his end begins, he goes to the Garden to pray.
As the sacrificial lambs bleat and bleed all throughout Jerusalem, the Lamb of God pleads with his Father. Like Isaac, the promised son of Abraham, he lies on the cold stone of the altar. He’s bound by the cords of his Father’s will. And he asks if there is some other way.
“They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I pray.’ He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,’ he said to them. ‘Stay here and keep watch.’
Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. ‘Abba, Father,’ he said, ‘everything is possible for you.
Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.’ ”
When flooded with earthly sorrow, he fills the courts of heaven with a downpour of pleas. This deluge is mixed with drops of blood, sweat, and tears.
He cries out to his Father to take away the cup of punishment. He begs him to remove this horrific hour from the clock. Like a child he persists. He tugs and appeals to his Father’s heart. He asks him to make the impossible possible.
He asks him to find some other way.
But as Jesus prays in the garden, the only responses that he receives are silence from his Father and snoring from his disciples. He had asked Peter, James, and John to stay awake, keep watch, and be alert so that they might not fall into temptation. He had pleaded with them to pray.
In this moment, he needs someone to intercede for him, to kneel beside him, to be next to him, and to suffer with him. He had done all of those things for his disciples and now he was asking them to do for him.
He isn’t looking for sympathy; right now he needs empathy. He doesn’t want pity; he needs prayer. He needs them to enter in, participate in, and share in his agony.
He asks his disciples to support him. He begs them to stay awake, kneel beside him, and pray. But their eyes become heavy and they fall asleep.
While he wrestles with a living nightmare, their bodies begin to relax, tension leaves, and they dream.
“Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. ‘Simon,’ he said to Peter, ‘are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.’ ”
Returning to the place of prayer, he asks his Father again to spare him. He pleads with him to take away the cup, to pour out his judgment somewhere else or at least to consider quenching its thirst in some other way.
But while the Son cries, the Father is silent. On this night, all of his pleas seem to go unanswered. By the silence, his Father speaks:
“No. There is no other way.”
It’s not the answer the Pleading Christ had hoped to hear.
But his prayer was never a childish demand. He never shook his fist, stomped his feet, or flashed a sugary sweet, manipulative smile. He was simply a child crying out to his Abba, his Daddy, asking for something that he thought was good.
He knows the heart of his Father. If his Father says “no” to this plea, that means that he is about to give him something better. He knows his Father’s heart. This devastating “no” has to be leading to a greater, divine “yes”.
And it does!
In a few days, Jesus will be lying in a different garden, behind a different stone, with a different type of silence.
But into that silence his Father will speak,
“Yes!”
“Live! Rise Again!”
Prayer
Father,
In the Garden, your Son, the Prince of Heaven, begged for a morsel of your mercy.
Overwhelmed to the point of death, he extended his hands. With palms up, face down, and heart torn open, he appealed that the angel of death would pass over him. He asked that you would not only remove the cup of suffering but that you would pour it out somewhere else.
But as your Son spoke, you remained silent. Your ears seemed to be deaf. Your lips didn’t move. Your heart seemed as cold as the stone that he knelt against.
Silence was your answer.
“No. There is no other way.”
Somehow, your Son seemed to know that your devastating “no” was leading to a greater, divine “yes”. You, Abba Father, as only you can do, were denying him something good in order that he might have the best.
As I beg for a morsel of your mercy, help me remember the Pleading Christ.
Give me the strength to pray without having to hear your voice. Grant me the faith to understand that, though you’re silent, you still hear. Grace me with the assurance that, though you say “no” to my good request, you’re saving your “yes” for something better.
In the name of the Pleading Christ I pray. Amen.
Reflection
Do any of your prayers consist of blood, sweat, and tears? What is it like to pray those types of prayers?
What is it like to pray in deep agony and hear only silence from God?
What’s it like for you to pray, “Yet not my will but your will be done.”?
Has God’s “no” ever led to a greater divine “yes” in your life?
All Scripture references in the meditation are marked by italics and are taken from the Gospel reading for the day (Mark 14:12-42). Those verses quoted outside of the chosen reading for the day are noted in parenthesis. All Scripture quoted on this site is taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.