REGARD THE WORLD AS GETHSEMANE
Matthew 26:36-56

A sermon given by the Rev. Richard H. Taylor
March 24, 2005 / Maundy Thursday

The noted Catholic peace activist Philip Berrigan tells us that he learned what Jesus meant by "watch," as a young draftee in the Second World War. ¹ Just nineteen, he was trained for guard duty, the night watch. The rifle was heavy, the winter nights cold and damp, the proper forbearance to officers expected, code words had to be remembered, and you had to stay up and alert all night. At nineteen he wasn't super ready for the wearying task.

But there is a certain irony here. The Army trained him to be watchful. And that skill became a major tool he has used in his work for peace.

But it isn't like the Army invented watchfulness. The Bible has always called for it. You know the verses:

"May [the master] not come suddenly and find you sleeping… Watch." (Mark 13:36-37)

"Our eyes are on the Lord until we are shown favor." (Psalm 123:2)

"My soul waits for the Lord, more than watchmen for the morning." (Psalm 130:6)

"Therefore stay awake! For you do not know on which day the Lord will come." (Matthew 24:42)

"Be sure of this, if the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his be broken into." (Luke 12:39)

So, Berrigan says, Jesus warns us against sleeping. "Jesus summons us to regard the world as Gethsemane, to watch and stay awake." ²

Regard the world as Gethsemane. I think I have become enchanted by those words. Regard the world as Gethsemane. Jesus calls us to wakefulness, to watchfulness, to attention to what is around us. Yet I don't think I ever began to notice all that was in the Garden of Gethsemane until I began to think about this idea. Regard the World as Gethsemane. Look around and see what is there, what is present, what it is real.

It is a beautiful garden. Jesus seems to know the place well. It is a place he has gone for comfort: lush, filled with the aroma of flowers, quiet. And so is this world a beautiful garden. A garden so striking, so luxurious that we can hardly describe it. Regard the world as Gethsemane.

And Gethsemane is a place of unsurpassing love. Here Jesus is passionate about his friends, those whom he has loved, those "who have been given him." But he prays not only for these but for the "others who will believe," "that they all may be one." This is a place of impassioned prayer and genuine concern. So is the world. There is so much love in this world, so much care, so much genuine prayer. Regard the world as Gethsemane.

And this is also a place of great friendships. Jesus, and Peter, and James and John have been friends since those fishing trips in Galilee. They are buddies, comrades, the people you call on when you need someone. And so is the world. Most of us have good friends, people we call when we need help, people we turn to. Regard the world as Gethsemane.

But this is also a place of tiredness, exhaustion, sleep. Despite calls from our friends we might say "I'm too tired." Or we miss the point. Or we say "I should have paid better attention. I guess I should have seen how they really felt. If I had known then what I know now, I would have been with them. Maybe I should have realized he might die." The world – Gethsemane – they are so alike.

And we all have had friends disappoint us. On the night we really need them, their phone rings off the hook. They say they had a prior engagement. They are a little too drunk and under the weather to be much good. We still like them, indeed we still love them. But tonight we are burning up and they are asleep. Here we are right by this big bustling capital city, with so much holiday activity, and we are alone. They are asleep. Regard.

What kind of a place is this? It is a place where soldiers, an Army, some enlisted men who are doing what they were told to do, come marching; even if they are not sure why.

What kind of a world is this? It is a world where friends betray friends, and undercut their neighbor for thirty pieces of silver. It's a place where you can't always trust the person who is kissing you.

What kind a world is this? It is a world where friends late to the draw try to make up for it with weapons. It is a world where people believe in swords, and guns, and assault rifles, and think they are thereby saved.

What kind of a world is this? It is a world where political machinations have gone on behind the scenes, where there have been smoke filled rooms in City Hall, and back room deals in the palace, and people are now doing dirty deeds out here in the garden, and people who are pulling their strings are no where to be seen.

What kind of a world is this? It is a world that is one minute lonely, and the next filled with a curious crowd, and midnight observers, people always ready to feast their eyes on some lurid entertainment.

It is all our world. And it all takes place on this one night in this lush fate chosen garden. Regard the world as Gethsemane.

And Berrigan reminds us of all this so that we too might learn to be watchmen; so that we too might learn to pay attention to what is going on around us. So that we too might rise from the forty percent of mental consciousness that seems too prevalent among Americans, and come to see that which is.

We Americans have become famous in the world as the entertainers: the producers of motion pictures, and television shows, and lavish Las Vegas extravaganzas; of gambling casinos, and strip-joints, and the X-rated; of bar rooms, and fancy liqueurs, and designer drugs. And yet we fall asleep in front of the television, lose our inhibitions in the night spots, and mortgage our homes at Foxwoods.

But we pay little attention to the boots that trample down the gardens, think it is permissible when our friends walk around carrying weapons, and shrug our shoulders about political back rooms. And so Jesus asks again "Could ye not watch with me?" "Stay with me, remain here with me, watch and pray."

What if friendship raised watchmen as alert as the military?

What if prayer could call forth legions, while betrayal was turned empty away?

What if attention was such a skill that we could speak with assurance of what was going on in our schools, carefully monitor the health and emotional hills and valleys of our loved ones, and genuinely be better friends?

What would happen if we could lay aside the distractions to become watchmen of the present night?

Pay attention.

What was going on in Gethsemane?

"Jesus [was bringing] about the salvation of his disciples while they slept." ³ He was praying for them. And for us also, even though yet unborn. That we all may be one. A heavenly salvation was being won that night and no one noticed it – save Jesus.

And this night a holy salvation is being won for you, even if you are not aware, even if you pay it no attention. God is offering the bread of life. God is offering the cup of salvation. God is offering a place to be fully present with our friends, alive, alert, conscious, deeply in love. A place, a life, as beautiful as a garden, free from weapons, learning justice along the way.

Pay attention. Be alert. There is much going on this night, in this garden.

Amen.

1 – Berrigan, Philip, "Keeping Watch", Bread and Wine, (Plough Publishing House, Farmington, PA, 2003), pp. 70-75.
2 - Ibid., p.71.
3 – Pascal, Blaise, "The Mystery of Jesus", Bread and Wine, (Plough Publishing House, Farmington, PA, 2003), p.142.