This Lent we follow Jesus as he faces evil in the hours before his death. What is evil? Who is doing evil against Jesus during Passion Week? What are ways in which we are complicit in evil? Do we take evil seriously? As we experience evil in our own lives, discover how Jesus stands in the face of evil.
Invocation
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, who delivers us from all evil.
Invitation Prayer
Lord, evil often comes from those closest to us. Peter denied you and Judas betrayed you. You know the pain of evil that comes from your friends. Comfort us when we are hurt by those we love. Lord Jesus, without you we fall. With you, we stand. Stay with us, Amen.
Word
Luke 22:41
“He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed…”
Meditation: He Withdrew by Susan Becher Schultz
Even as a small child my favorite season was Lent. I loved the midweek services and how our church would play a dramatic cartoon movie clip each Wednesday. They always paused it on a cliffhanger so that I couldn’t wait to come back the next week. The still-life reenactment of the Last Supper on Maundy Thursday was possibly my favorite church night of the year. I’m telling you, as a kid I remember thinking this season really gets me.
The word that sticks out to me from this week’s passage is “withdrew.” I’ll be honest, I don’t know the Bible backwards and forwards so I cheated and asked my husband, a pastor, if Jesus often withdrew from his followers in the Bible. I guess I pictured Jesus mostly in huge crowds, or at least always surrounded by his disciples. In this moment by himself, Jesus seems more vulnerable. More human.
My husband’s answer to my question was that Jesus had a rhythm. While we often hear of the healing and teaching he does among others, there are several examples in the Bible where Jesus seeks out solitude to pray. I remember, in particular, the cartoon movie depiction of this verse I chose when Jesus steps away from his disciples to be alone. I thought, this is the kind of Jesus I need. Someone who not only needs time to be alone, but someone who knows how it feels to be lonely.
I like the word that my husband used. Rhythm. It’s part of the human condition to be up and down, connected and disconnected. I find during my own seasons of withdrawal from others I often ask myself, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I be normal, like everyone else? Why can’t I turn off my emotions and be, I don’t know, neurotypical? But to be human means to feel the ebb and flow of a large spectrum of emotions.
When we stop trying to feel, we numb out the good and the bad. Evil has a meticulous way of isolating us, making us believe we are alone in our loneliness. I think one of the most beautiful parts of healing from my trauma has been learning how seasons of withdrawal eventually bring me in closer connection with others. I’ve been able to build deeper relationships with friends and family members in our discussions about grief and PTSD. It’s when we share our lowest moments that we’re able to truly be seen and known. Sometimes I wonder if evil ever gets mad about that.
I’m grateful for this season for many reasons. But mostly for giving me a picture of a human well versed in isolation. A human that operates on a similar rhythm as I do, falling in and out of connection with others. I look at this verse and at this person who shares his brokenness and vulnerability with all of us. As cheesy as it may sound, I can’t help but think, this Jesus really gets me.
Jesus, thank you for showing us what it is to be vulnerable and human. Help us to remember that even in our loneliest times, evil does not win. Remind us of the connection we are able to have with others when we share the evil that has been done to us. Amen.
Sending
Lord, in the face of evil, you call us from death to life, from silence to speech, from idleness to action. Go with us now. Send us with your gifts. Sustain us by your promise. Amen.