be with me

Words so definitive, so certain. The ominous cloud hanging, the brewing storm. Jesus saw it, he heard it, he felt its coming. It is impossible to fully appreciate the prayers that follow, without knowing this, the weight on him, the fears, the uncertainties, the anxiety at so violent a coming end. Did he doubt? How could he not a little? It was but a few hours later, the Scripture records, “after he had said these things”, the soldiers came.

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This was it for him; it was this very imminent terror, that gives rise to so poignant a prayer. He is crying out, all the worth of his life on the line now. He is facing a brutal and painful death. But even more, he is facing the end of his life on earth, the end of his influence, the end of all he could do. The hour has come. The dark hour, the brutal hour, the horror of great darkness of uncertainty like that which fell upon Abraham when his offering was put out. Jesus was a young man, his passions alive, vivid, demanding. He was not ready for death! All he could see was his lifetime of dreams, there laid out on an uncertain altar before him, and the dream he most dreamed, of a poignant human love, tasted, yet all so briefly.

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Was he enough, was he glorified, did his life in the end have any significance or value? Surely, he followed his Father, but to what end? Did he do enough, did he say enough? Did he love enough? Did those he loved hear it, was it driven into their souls, that they would forever know? Were they persuaded?

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His deep anxiety gives rise to these cries. The intense expression that follows reflects the fear at so deep a loss. He loved. How could he not feel the coming loss? And in that fear, he pours out his heart. This is John 17. The most intimate cries pouring out from a man who had learned to feel and felt like no other. And how he would feel, anxiety turning to agony, a heart-bursting passion, feelings so consuming, he would sweat blood. Words turned to groans, and heart-wrenching pleading, and convulsive weeping.

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He was weeping for his beloved, anxious for her, above all else. She was the object of such passion. Did you imagine it would be otherwise? Did you think he feared for his own comfort, safety, security? The love of Christ, constrained in these prayers, is for none other than those he had come to love on earth, and those who would believe on his name.