Meditations with Pastor Tom (4/10/20)

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.’ Matthew 26:38-39

            I love the scene in the Bible where Jesus goes off to pray alone in the Garden of Gethsemane.  This is a scene of real anguish.  In Matthew, Jesus says he is grieved to the point of death.  In Luke, Jesus has angels come to give him strength and still "his sweat became like great drops of blood."  Jesus is hurting as deeply as anyone can hurt.

            I don't know about you but I can safely say I've never been this grieved.  I have never felt a sadness so intense that it felt as if it might kill me, nor have I sweat anything like Jesus did.  But, I have grieved.  I have been stressed to the point of crying, to the point of feeling I just couldn't hold up.  I think most of us have. 

            So, I see myself in this scene.  Jesus wants to step away from this calling.  For a moment at least, he wants God to say, "OK, you don't have to do this.  We'll find another way."  When Jesus says, "...let this cup pass from me," I can hear myself saying the same thing.

            Not long ago, on a cold evening when winter was giving one of its last blasts, I got a message from a young woman who I knew was a recovering addict.  She said she had no food and no way to get to a store.  Could I help?

            I had heard rumors from reliable sources that she was doing drugs again.  So, helping her might mean stepping into a dangerous situation with other drug addicts around.  And what if I take her to get groceries and she then turns around and accuses me of unseemly behavior?  To make matters even harder to figure out, the peer counselors at the Surest Path Recovery Center (recovering addicts themselves) told me that the ONLY help you EVER give to an addict is to offer to take them to a recovery center.  Anything else just keeps them from hitting the rock bottom they need to hit.   Anything else is enabling.

              Remember, I didn't know she was using drugs again.  That was a rumor - from a reliable source for sure - but still a rumor.  If I helped and she was using, I was only enabling a drug addict and maybe putting myself in danger.  If I didn't help and she was not using, I was walking away from one of God's children that Jesus would certainly call one of the least of these.  Why is it that the greater the panic I feel, the harder it is for me to know what God wants?  Why is it that in the moments I want to feel the most connected to God, I often feel the most distant?  Maybe that's why Jesus needs to pray three times looking for an answer.

            I can tell you for sure I was saying in that moment, "Please, God, remove this cup from me.  I don't want to make this decision.  I don't want to be one who has to help.  I don't even want to do services at the Recovery Center any more. It just gets me involved with people who have messy, unstable lives.  It sometimes puts me in a spot where I am scared or have to make an ugly decision."

            I agonized.  My stomach churned.  My wife and I debated extensively.  (Poor Jesus, his friends fell asleep on him.)  I decided to help.  Did I do the right thing? I don't know.  I did find out later that she had since failed a drug test.  And by the way, I still preach at the Recovery Center (when there is no Coronavirus).

            I only know that I am heartened to hear Jesus say, "let this cup pass from me."  I know that feeling.  I'll bet you do, too.

The Sermon this Easter Sunday

Rise Up!