Luke 23:26 “When he rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow.” To view the entire passage, click here.
Have you ever visited a hospital waiting room at 2:30 in the morning? Try walking through the intensive care unit some time in the early hours. You will find the television is still on, though, no one is watching. The volume is low and the blue glow of the flickering screen casts an odd light throughout the room. People lay scattered around the room in the worn, blue chairs, feet propped, heads tilted, mouths agape. They cover themselves with coats and sweaters in an effort to keep warm. Discarded coffee cups and Coke cans litter the floor underneath their makeshift nests.
The vigil is underway but they cannot stay awake. A loved one is just down the hall, often in critical condition. Tubes come from various holes poked into their body. Monitors beep. Pumps push fluids into their veins and yet, the family members sleep.
Their slumber is not a sign that they are uncaring or calloused. They would not dream of going home, even though their bed would provide more comfort. They must be here for their grandmother, their grandfather, their parent, their child. They must wait. It is their duty. It is their desire. But after hours of waiting, they also must sleep. In grief, in pain, in silence, they wait. They drift in and out of consciousness, roused by the slightest noise, exhausted from sorrow.
This is the scene in today’s story. Jesus, deep in prayer, lost in thought, wants nothing more than his followers to stay vigilant. He needs their presence. He desires their support. But they are asleep. It is the most important moment in his life and their eyes are closed, their mouths hang open. Under the olive trees, they lay covered with their cloaks, trying to keep warm.
The disciples, who are faithful to their teacher and their friend, want nothing more than to provide encouragement and support. But the reality of the day is beginning to catch up to them. The weight of the journey to the cross is taking its toll and they are no longer awake.
They are not fatigued from a hard day’s work. They are not beat down from a long day’s journey. They are exhausted from sorrow. They are done in by distress. Their hearts are broken, their souls weep, and their eyelids grow heavy.
I understand the disciples’ plight. I appreciate their situation. Even now, my wife is in a waiting room as her grandmother is admitted to the hospital. She will spend the night at her side, waiting for a doctor, hoping for good news, thinking about what tomorrow might bring.
But the disciples could never dream, would never imagine, what their tomorrow might hold. No amount of sleep could prepare their hearts or their minds for the course their day will take. Their world is about to change dramatically and they are dozing when it all begins.
The days are short. The Passion has begun. Less than 24 hours remain and the faithful are beginning to falter.
Dear God:
Our spirits are tired. Our hearts are weak. Please give us the strength to stay vigilant through the next few days. Give us the courage to face the journey to the cross. While we don’t fully understand the sorrow that is to come, help us to face it with eyes wide open, and hearts fully alert. AMEN.
copyright 2005 C. Curtis Austin a 2BlackDogs Production
Tomorrow: Simon’s Task.
