Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?
How could I have missed this, so many times I have read this passage? I’ve always taken comfort from the fact that Jesus has endured all that I have endured (Heb. 4:15; 2 Tim. 1:8, 2:3, 2:8-10). But I always related this to physical hardships, for Jesus certainly endured many of those. It’s a comfort and a challenge – a call to stand firm even against persecution and difficulty. For as we participate in Jesus’ glory, so will we be called to participate in his suffering. He told us as much himself (“Blessed are you who are persecuted…” and “Unless you drink the cup that I must drink…”).
But as I sat in a midweek Lenten service this afternoon, I read this passage again as if for the first time. And then I looked back on Jesus’ struggle in the Garden as he prayed for the cup to be passed to another. Is it possible that I have suffered with Jesus – and he with me – even in these ways?
Could it be that Jesus, divine and perfect as he was, was afraid to do what needed to be done – even though he knew what glory would follow? Or did he know what would follow… that’s a question for another time. But could it be that even as I have struggled, and still do every day, to live the difficult calling that God has laid on each of us, as I have tried to muster passion, courage and love… could it be that Jesus has been right there struggling beside me even then?
Could it be that Jesus, having endured nearly all, had a wavering of faith even at that moment? And could it be that even in those times when I have knelt and cried, beat my hands against the floor, feeling I had lost all sight of God, and even wondering if God existed… could it be that even then, Jesus was there suffering with me?
Could even doubt and fear be part of the sufferings we endure with Christ, a part of the “glory yet to be revealed” (Romans 8)?
Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?
So I find myself in league with the likes of David (see my blog, http://www.darylandemily.com/2006/03/i-am-not-alone.html), and you remind us that in those worst of moments – when we are in what we think must be the darkest cave, the furthest place from hope, the deepest abyss – that our Savior has already been there and places deeper and darker still.
Thanks for the reminder (or is it the first we’ve really heard it?) – and the encouragement for those of us who have seen a share of our own dark times.