Well Rested On Good Friday?

(Photo taken in the Garden of Gethsemane)


I woke up today well rested and with a strange feeling.

A strange feeling because I got 8 hours of sleep last night, a luxury Jesus was not afforded from Maundy Thursday on to Good Friday 2000 years ago. Last night, Jesus had the Passover meal with his disciples, sent Judas on his way, then headed to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray around 11:30pm. It's no coincidence that Gethsemane means "oil press". I was reading an article by Jurgen Moltmann in "Bread and Wine", and he pointed out that it was in the Garden that for the first time Jesus does not want to be alone with God. He seeks to be with his closest friends, and they keep falling asleep. They obviously don't understand the depth of struggle Jesus was going through.

Then he is betrayed with a kiss. Not just someone pointing him out and identifying him. Rather, an intimate kiss of one who knew him and his life well. This was the kiss of death, both for Judas and Jesus. I wonder if Judas could forget the look in Jesus' eyes as he approached him. Based off of Judas' suicide that followed, most likely he didn't. As they arrested Jesus, Peter fought back with a sword but Jesus would have no part in the violence. His closest companions ran off, leaving Jesus completely alone (like they had when he prayed). Jesus was led off by the soldiers, feeling the separation from his Father, as well as the betrayal of his friends.

By around 1:30am, He was led to Annas the former high priest as he began receive his intial beatings. He was then taken to Caiaphas, the current high priest and the Sanhedrin court, bloodied by more abuse. He was held prisoner for a couple hours at Caiaphas' palace, and I wonder if he got any sleep or if they had him hung up. They had another trial for Jesus, and decided to hand him over to the Roman government to be executed. The Roman governor Pilate found no guilt in Jesus, who handed him over to Herod Antipas, who quickly handed him back to Pilate because Jesus refused to answer questions. Pilate, in a hard place because he wanted to please the Jews, had Jesus beaten beyond recognition hoping that would appease the angry crowd. The Jews would settle for no less than death, and finally Pilate conceded and gave the orders to execute Jesus.

At this point around 8:30am, the mockery and torture grew in its scale. Fueled by the crowds, and endorsed by the government, Jesus had a crown of thorns beaten into his skull. By 9am, they had Jesus take up his cross (recognize that term?) and walk the road that led outside the city walls. By noon, he was naked and crucified between 2 thieves where all coming in and out of the city could see him. For 3 hours he endured some of the most intense agony man has ever felt. Between the nails hammered through his wrists and dislocated limbs, he couldn't even properly pull himself up on the cross to breathe full breaths. Finally, his lungs and body gave way and Life himself surrendered to death. The death that was mine. The death that was yours. The death that was ours.

That's why I have a strange feeling. I hope today I remember this violent day.

I'm not sure what else I can say, but thank you. We do not deserve such kindness and love.