The Agony in the Garden
gabrielle April 5th, 2007
“He would fain shake off this immense burden that crushes Him - He would fain free Himself of this horrible load which makes Him shudder - His own purity rejects it - the very glance of the avenging Father, Who abandons Him in these muddy, putrid waters of guilt with which He sees Himself covered - All this rushes to His Spirit urging Him to draw back from the bitter Passion. The revulsion of His Divinity against sin adds to the conflict within His human soul. All instinct counsels that He unburden Himself of these infamies, rejecting the very thought of them. But the consideration of unvindicated justice and the unreconciled sinner predominates in His heart full of love. These two forces, these two loves, one more holy than the other, struggle for victory in the Heart of the Savior. Which will conquer? Without doubt He wants to give victory to offended justice. This gains over all else and He wants this to triumph. But what a spectacle must He represent? That of a man soiled with the filth of humanity. He, essential sanctity, to see himself filthy with sin, even if only in outward appearance? This, No! This terrifies Him, makes Him tremble, crushes Him.”
(St. Padré Pio: The Agony of Jesus)
Hi Gabrielle!
Your new blog is so lovely! I have really enjoyed your Stations of the Cross. Tonight we are having our vigil, and I find it so meaningful that Christians all around the world are keeping company with Jesus in little churches and chapels of all descriptions. With our Lord to bind us together, it baffles me that we have so many divisions (especially in the ECUSA at the moment). We have so much in common.
Have a blessed Easter!
Judy
A Blessed Easter, Gabrielle. And thank you for this page and Stations.
Welcome, Judy, and thank you very much. We can pray that our unity as Christians, at least during the Easter Triduum, is pleasing to the Lord, and perhaps eases His suffering somewhat. I looked at the homepage for the ECUSA today, and immediately saw a picture of the Madonna and Child. How it warmed my heart…
Wishing you and your family a blessed Easter as well.
Hello, Driftwood. I’m so glad you could come to visit, and happy that anything here might bring you a few moments of peace or comfort.
And see? this is why I think we who would adore Him in the Tabernacle for an hour (holy hour), were part of that comforting angel whom the Father sent Him. O what better solace than to know, in that horrible hour of His, that it mattered.. that it all mattered to us — that it would matter 2000 years later, and maybe 10,000.. How timeless is He? When it comes to love, not at all. So I rest my forehead against His here in the dreadful Garden I’ve caused.. I can do that, and I can hold Him as He falls to the ground in His great frothy-blooded sweat not only in Man as I encounter the least.. but Him. Him. But He is risen, and so I must seek Him in this vale, still, in a different form, and massage His weary shoulders, lave His feet with my tears, and wipe them with either a nursing home towel or my hair, it matters not. We can do this. We can TOUCH Him.. We can feed Him, rock Him, kiss His brow.
Can’t we? Is this not what we women do when we wait with Him, watch with Him. O, it doesn’t matter if the Apostles fell asleep in their sorrow.. Jesus knows Woman will come to help them, too. He gives them Mother, and sisters, and kind, gentle comforters when they are too broken-hearted, too confused, too tired to run to His own appointed Advocate. Women help men to find His healing. Because women always believe in love.
Carol, we could compose many posts just based on the number of insights in this one comment of yours. But do you know what I will be reflecting on tonight, and probably for many days ahead? It is this: you speak of us as being part of the comforting angel, and also as the cause of the Agony in the Garden. We are the cause; we are the comfort. Out of time, in time, before time, beyond time? Separate events, or simultaneous? Or one? One, ongoing? Much to think about.
It’s all then, now, and to come. Ever the same, ever surprising. Love has a life all its own, and it most assuredly is alive and well. Every Blooded martyr is a facet of love, every white martrydom another. Every sinner begging forgiveness, another. Millions.. into a non-begun eternity, through the door of death –and in time only after He came. And He comes again! Ah, what we don’t know, but ah, what we do know.. It seems gift enough to have breathed Christian air, yet never so.. never will we be satisfied in this limited fall-remembering clay, and yet, what wonders of love are worked via this very gift. It’s like the excitement of betrothal. Ah, we have this and this and this, and yet still MORE to come?? How can it be so?
Love. A garment woven in one piece. Everliving miracle. Ever many parts, ever one. Yes, “One, ongoing” suits me just fine for now. It’s all my mind can get around, but there’s more.. the same that makes a fetal John leap, makes a fetal soul leap..