The One Who Stays

Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?”

Matthew 26:36-40

Entering the Garden

Before we get to the disciples falling asleep…

I want us to sit in the garden for a moment.

Because sometimes we read this passage knowing what happens next.

We know the cross is coming.

We know the resurrection is coming.

And because we know the ending, we rush past the humanity of the moment.

But before Jesus was arrested…

Before He was betrayed…

Before the cross…

Jesus was overwhelmed.

Not inconvenienced.

Not stressed.

Not having a difficult day.

Overwhelmed.

The text tells us He was sorrowful and troubled.

And then Jesus does something I find incredibly beautiful.

He tells the truth.

“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.”

He doesn’t hide it.

He doesn’t minimize it.

He doesn’t pretend to be stronger than He is.

The Son of God looks at His closest friends and says:

“I need you to stay with me.”

And I don’t know about you…

But there is something comforting about knowing that Jesus understands the need and desires to be, surrounded by those who love him during a difficult time.

We know what is about to happen. Jesus is about to be crucified.

Jesus’ life is falling apart.

He is begging His Father to take the responsibility away from Him. 

Luke’s account tells us that he is in so much agony that he sweats blood. 

And He calls on His friends to stay with him because He is overwhelmed by life’s events.

And they can’t.  What a lonely and hurtful place for Jesus; the people He expected to stay with Him didn’t. 

The Loneliness of Being the One Who Stays

And that’s where I found myself this week.

Not angry.

Not resentful.

Just lonely.

There are some seasons in life where the hardest thing is not the pain.

It’s the loneliness.

Not because no one loves you.

Not because no one cares.

But because there are some roads that can only be walked by the person walking them.

And if I’m honest…this has been one of those seasons for me.

I am one month post-surgery, and I have found myself feeling lonely.

Not abandoned.

Not forgotten.

Just lonely.

On Father’s Day, I found myself thinking about a man who taught me what it felt like to be cared for.

What I missed wasn’t just my grandfather.

I missed what he represented.

I missed the feeling of being cared for.

The feeling of someone noticing before I asked.

The feeling of someone making space for my needs.

The feeling of someone staying.

And if I’m honest…

In this season, I have more limitations because of surgery, and I have more moments when I wish someone could stay. 

And sometimes they can’t.

Sometimes they don’t have the capacity.

That doesn’t make them bad.

It makes them human.

And if I’m really honest…

I think part of what made this season so difficult is that I am usually the one who stays.

I am usually the one sitting with people through the hard part.

The one making the phone call.

The one showing up.

The one carrying the burden.

The one reminding people that they are not alone.

And there is a unique kind of hurt that comes when the person who is accustomed to staying for everyone else finds themselves needing someone to stay for them.

Not because anyone owes you anything.

Not because people are intentionally absent.

But because for the first time, you understand what it feels like to be the one in need.

And that can be lonely.

Very lonely.

And then I looked back at the text and realized…

that’s Jesus too.

For three years, Jesus has been the one carrying everybody else.

The healer.

The teacher.

The comforter.

The one making room for everyone else’s pain.

The one who always stays.

And now, in the garden, we see something different.

And for perhaps the first time in the Gospel story, The One who has carried everyone else is the one asking someone else to carry a little of Him.

Not to stop the crucifixion.

Not to fix the problem.

Not to have all the answers.

Just…

“Stay with me.”

And maybe that’s what makes this moment so sacred.

Because Jesus is not just showing us His divinity.

He is showing us His humanity.

I think that’s what I’ve been longing for in this season, too.

Not for someone to fix it.

Not for someone to take it away.

Just for someone to stay.

To sit with me in it.

To carry a little of the weight with me.

And as I sat there thinking about my grandfather…

I sensed God asking me a question:

“What makes you think I care for you any less?”

And I realized something else.

Sometimes when we are lonely…

we confuse the absence of people with the absence of God.

And they are not the same thing.

Because there is a difference between people who cannot always stay…

and a God who always does.

The disciples loved Jesus.

They just couldn’t stay awake.

And maybe you’ve experienced that too.

People who love you…

People who mean well…

People who would help if they could…

And yet somehow…

when you need them most…

they don’t have the capacity to stay.

And you want to just scream: 

I just want you to stay with me through the hardest part.

And maybe that’s why this moment in Gethsemane feels so sacred to me.

Notice what Jesus asks for.

He doesn’t ask them to stop the crucifixion.

He doesn’t ask them to solve the problem.

He doesn’t ask them to have answers.

He simply asks them to stay.

And maybe that’s what makes this text so human.

Because most of us don’t need people to fix everything.

We just need someone to stay with us while we walk through it.

When Love Doesn’t Have Capacity

Maybe the disciples didn’t fall asleep because they didn’t care.

Maybe they fell asleep because they were human.

Let’s remember who these men were.

For three years they had followed Jesus.

They had left homes, jobs, families, and familiar lives behind.

They had walked with Him through crowds, storms, miracles, opposition, and uncertainty.

They had been carrying Jesus’ journey.

But they had also been carrying their own.

And now they find themselves in the garden.

The air is heavy.

The tension is thick.

Something is happening, even if they don’t fully understand it.

And Jesus asks them to stay awake.

Then He goes away to pray.

And an hour later they are asleep.

Not because they don’t love Him.

Not because they aren’t committed to Him.

But because they are exhausted.

And if we’re honest, there is a level of exhaustion where you don’t decide to fall asleep.

You sit down…

and sleep finds you.

Maybe that’s what makes this text difficult.

Because if they had abandoned Him, we’d know what to do with that.

If they had betrayed Him, we’d know what to do with that.

But they loved Him.

And still couldn’t stay.

That’s harder to wrestle with.

Because most of us have experienced that kind of loneliness.

When Human Capacity Ends

Because sometimes the people we need the most…

love us deeply…

and still don’t have the capacity to stay with us through the hardest part.

Not because they are bad.

Not because they don’t care.

Not because they are absent.

But because they are carrying their own humanity too.

And that hurts.

But it also helps me understand something.

Their inability to stay with me does not mean I am unloved.

It means they are human too.

But when human capacity ends…

God’s capacity remains.

God never falls asleep.

God never slumbers.

God is never off His watch post.

Because God is God.

And that distinction matters.

People are finite.

God is not.

People get tired.

God does not.

People have limits.

God does not.

And that doesn’t make people bad.

It makes them human..

There are some valleys people can walk into with us, but only God can walk all the way through.

People have responsibilities, burdens, and journeys of their own.

And sometimes the people who love us most simply do not have the capacity to stay with us through every part of our pain.

Not because they don’t care.

But because they are exhausted

And maybe that’s what Gethsemane teaches us.

There are some parts of the journey where people can stay with us.

And there are some parts of the journey only God can stay with us all the way through.

The disciples could go into the garden.

But they could not go where Jesus was about to go.

And in the same way, there are moments in our lives when human presence reaches its limit.

And when it does…

God stays.