The Holy Hour of Gethsemane
My Sweet, Sweet Lord,
As I prayed my Holy Hour before Thee on Thursday night, many feelings and thoughts came upon me.
Thou didst call St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, in 1674, to take up this practice of spending one hour with Thee, watching before Thee. Watching, as Thine apostles failed to do, whilst Thou didst pray and suffer Thine Agony in the garden of Gethsemane.
To Gethsemane, Thou didst call St. Margaret Mary, with these words:
Every night between Thursday and Friday I will make thee share in the mortal sadness which I was pleased to feel in the garden of Olives.
The garden of Olives, where Thou didst find Thyself abandoned Lord.
And so, in my own feeble way, each Thursday night I keep watch. I attempt not to abandon Thee. I kneel before Thee and focus my attention on Thyself, as Thou didst pray in the garden of Gethsemane.
What happened to Thee, Lord in that garden?
It was from a garden that we fell, a very different garden. The Garden of Eden was a paradisal place, where all was at peace. For each and every creature lived in the love of God.
But darkness crept in. The serpent, wanting, desiring to change this beauty into its own ugly way, deceived our first mother, Eve. That evil creature brought such pain, such suffering to human life, for it succeeded in taking us away from God.
This morning my cat caught a baby rabbit. I found it so distressing Lord.
Such a sweet innocent creature, preyed upon by another, more powerful than itself, with sharp claws and teeth. Just like the serpent, my cat wants to overpower the tiny rabbit. It wants to deceive it, in order to catch it.
This world, tainted by the Fall is filled with such games.
Everywhere, are games of power and manipulation, whether it be my cat, a school bully, a parent, teacher, in politics or corporate business.
We all play these games – these temptations to power, which run our world more than we can ever know.
This, Thou didst feel in the garden, the second garden, in the fallen world. Thou didst feel it ALL Lord and Thou didst sweat Blood.
What didst truly happen Lord, as Thou didst pray in that garden?
As Thou wast alone, abandoned by Thine apostles, Thou didst feel the totality of the sin of the world. The weight, such a weight. How couldst Thou have borne that weight of sin?
Thou wast consumed by the pain, the suffering of our sin, so much so that it caused Thee to sweat droops of blood. Inside Thee, blood was forced out of the tiny pores of Thy skin. Blood.
And Thou didst see what Thou wouldst experience the following day, the Friday that Thou wouldst die on the Cross. Didst Thou experience it, within Thyself?
And whilst Lord, Thou didst not want to sup the bitter cup, Thou gavest Thyself to the Heavenly Father in a perfect act of obedience.
And the Father willed it – that Thou wouldst be the eternal sacrifice for our sin.
Thine wast to be the final death, sealing the Old Covenant and opening the New.
This is how much Thou didst give us, Lord. Thou didst give us Thyself, completely, UNTO DEATH.
