I remember seeing the movie. I remember how hard it was to watch. And although we have not watched it or opened it since, we own the movie. And every time I see the case, I am reminded of that night in the theater when all I could do was turn my head and weep. It was not a picture of Jesus I wanted to see, but I knew in my heart that it depicted a reality that he experienced, all for us. I remember weeping with Mary as she watched her boy die, but the scene that I go to in my head each Holy Week is the Garden scene. Alone in anguish as his friends slept nearby. Jesus calls out to his Father to remove this cup, only to turn and drink it for us. It is here that I dwell every Good Friday. As I mediate of the words of a beautiful Hymn, I sit awake, praying with my Jesus. It is my desire to never turn my eyes away from my Savior again, but to walk with him to the cross. It is never an easy journey, but I believe that I can not truly experience the Joy of Easter morning without first living through the death. And so once again this year, I journey to the Garden, to sit, sing and remember.
Go to Dark Gethsemane
ye that feel the tempter’s power;
your Redeemer’s conflict see,
watch with him one bitter hour.
Turn not from his griefs away;
learn of Jesus Christ to pray.
beaten, bound, reviled, arraigned;
O the wormwood and the gall!
O the pangs his soul sustained!
Shun not suffering, shame, or loss;
learn of Christ to bear the cross.
there, adoring at his feet,
mark that miracle of time,
God’s own sacrifice complete.
“It is finished!” hear him cry;
learn of Jesus Christ to die.
where they laid his breathless clay;
all is solitude and gloom.
Who has taken him away?
Christ is risen! He meets our eyes;
Savior, teach us so to rise.