Two weeks ago I was on my personal retreat at Holy Cross Monastery in West Park, NY. One of the joys of my time there was how often the brothers rang the bell for worship. Every day the bell would ring at 7, 9, Noon, 5, and 8 for Morning Prayer, Holy Eucharist, Noonday Prayer, Evening Prayer, and Compline. The Readings all followed the Daily Lectionary. and this week, Proper 11, we heard from Matthew 26:36-75, the story of Jesus in Gethsemane up through Peter's denial.
The chapel is sparse with white walls, a high ceiling and windows, choir seating for the monks, gallery seating for guests in the back, and a plain altar. The faint smell of incense permeates the air. A large, Eastern Orthodox-style crucifix icon hangs on the east wall behind the altar and is the only adornment in the building.
As I sat in the chair listening to the reading from Matthew's gospel about the arrest of Jesus, I knew what was eventually coming: his crucifixion and death. The week of Proper 12 would tell of his flogging, the ripping of his robe from his just-beginning to congeal body, the crown of thorns driven into his head, the spit on his face, the beating at the hands of the Roman guards, and (even though Matthew doesn't specifically say it) the nails that were hammered through his hands and feet. This was a brutal and painful experience.
While nowhere near the pain Jesus experienced, I was experiencing my own pain as if thousands of white-hot needles were being inserted into my back. The pain made it difficult to sit. It was also difficult to stand and walk as the pain would radiate down my leg and across my back. I sat with my own excruciating pain as I listened to the story of Jesus' betrayal and arrest and thought about his upcoming crucifixion. And I wondered.
Today, depending on when you read this, I will either be preparing for, undergoing, or recovering from back surgery. The increasing pain I have been experiencing will hopefully be coming to an end. In the best of outcomes, there will be no more pain. At this point I would consider an outcome of simply being sore a good outcome. The point is that I believe there is an end in sight to the pain. As Jesus was going through his own journey of physical pain, was he able to see an end to that pain, even if the end was death? Did he finally welcome that outcome as the ultimate relief?
And I wondered about the pain of betrayal. Was the kiss of Judas as emotionally painful as the physical pain of his journey to the cross? Was seeing Peter deny him three times as emotionally painful as the physical pain of hanging on the cross? Was looking around to find he had been deserted by all of his male disciples as spiritually painful as his desertion by God (Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani)? And I wonder if even now he is haunted by the suicide of Judas?
There will be an end to physical pain, and hopefully mine is in the final stretch today. Emotional and spiritual pain, however, can last a lifetime.
With that in mind, may we work to be gentle with others and ourselves. May we give ourselves and others grace when we stumble. And may we, like Peter, return to say, “I love you.”
Blessings,
