In one of our South Jersey wind storms, a tree blows down in our yard. We know the one most likely to fall. The house has not been touched. No one has been harmed, but we have this big tree now in our yard. It would take us a long time to cut up that tree. But, we do have a friend with a chainsaw, so we call him up and begin the conversation with something like these words, “Hi, how would you like some free firewood?” We rely on our friends.
Our plane gets into the Philadelphia airport late, very late. It’s past midnight. The place has pretty much shut down. Public transportation has stopped running. Taxi drivers don’t see the point in staying without customers. Our car is at home. What to do? Either spend the night at the airport, which is a little scary and a lot uncomfortable, or call a friend. When we need them, we can call on our friends.
Jesus calls on his friends, too, during the night when he is arrested, this night. It starts with a Jewish Passover meal, the most important religious holiday. When those holidays happen, there is an instinctive tug to spend it with family and friends. Jesus is no different. As they are eating, enjoying one another’s company, Jesus turns sad; “One of you will betray me,” he says as he looks around the room at his closest followers. They can’t believe it is possible. “Could it be I?” they ask. They can not conceive of betraying Jesus. This is not a crowd, curious to hear Jesus. This is the circle of his closest… his disciples. Jesus has this brooding sense that he will be betrayed and he will stand alone.
After dinner, Jesus and the disciples walk out to a hill, called the Mount of Olives that overlooks the city. Jesus tells his friends they will all leave him. They will scatter, leaving him alone. Peter denies it. “Even if they fall away, I will not,” he says. A while later, all of them scatter when the crowd of soldiers and others come to arrest Jesus. Even Peter runs, leaving Jesus alone. Jesus stands alone.
From the hillside, Jesus walks down to an area of olive trees, named the Garden of Gethsemane. You can still see Olive trees there that date back to Jesus’ time, short, squat, mushroom like trees. There, next to gnarled olive tree trunks, Jesus earnestly asks the disciples to pray. He takes his innermost group of disciples, James, John, Peter and goes a little farther. He asks them to pray. Surely they will pray. Then he goes by himself, alone, to wrestle with God’s final will for him. When he returns, he finds them sleeping. He implores them to pray and goes back by himself, alone, to pray. When he returns again, they are sleeping again. Once more, he asks them to pray. When he comes back a third time, again they are asleep. In his most desperate wrestling with his heavenly Father’s will, Jesus must anguish, alone. Alone. Alone to face the arresting crowd, Jesus stands alone.
What happens when all the props and supports in a person’s life are taken away? What is left? All that Jesus had was taken from him, even his closest friends, the one group upon whom he should be able to rely. Everything is taken away from him.
This is the story of Job, in the Old Testament. God says, “Have you seen my servant Job? There is none like him.” Satan, the accuser and destroyer says, “Take away his easy, nice living and let’s find out what he’s made of. Job then suffers loss. His wealth is swept away. His children die, all of them. His esteem in the community plunges. He is no longer respected but laughed at. He experiences bodily pain, maybe something like a combination of back pain and migraine head-aches. Now, what will he do when everything is taken away, and even his wife says he ought to just die?
When all the disciples had run away, Jesus stood alone to face the crowd, to face the jeering soldiers and to face the insulting priests. Even though he was completely alone, he still stood. He still carried through his Heavenly Father’s plan. When everything was taken away, Jesus still stood.
There are times we feel like Job. Perhaps physically, perhaps not; times when we feel abandoned, hope dries up. We can see it shriveling up, like a piece of bacon cooked too long. We wonder out loud to ourselves, “God, are you still there? Jesus, are you still there for us?”
We can wander in doubt, unsure of God’s attention. In our Garden of Gethsemane experience, then, know this. When Jesus was abandoned by everyone, even his closest friends, Jesus stood alone, but Jesus still stood, alone. Not even in his worst hour, did he fail to follow through with his Heavenly Father’s will. He did not give up. He did not fail.
And, what he did not fail to carry through then, he will not fail to carry through for us now. To use the words of Scripture, He “will never fail you nor forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5) Jesus said to his followers after the resurrection, “Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of time.” (Matthew 28:18) What Jesus promises is solid. His word is rock solid. Once spoken, it hardens into thick cement. Because Jesus stood, alone, He will stand for us when we are alone. Jesus stands, alone – for us.