audiences, and Dr. Luke helped complete the full story. They did not write in the face of all this opposition. They saw the Lord die, saw Him buried, saw Him alive again. Nothing could make them doubt. But what might my colleagues have written had they known the minds of the Greeks and the Romans?”
By the time the men reached John’s small quarters, he was exhausted and acceded to their urging that he try napping. One of the women delivered fruit and a cup of water, and when his stomach was sated and his thirst slaked, John stretched out on his pallet. But weary as he was, his mind continued to race.
The old apostle rolled up on his side and let the breeze from the window fan his face. And he felt a deep urgency in his spirit. “What is it, Lord?” he whispered. “What would you have me do?”
John rose and knelt by his mat, knees aching. “Father, I am at Your mercy. I will do whatever You give me the strength to do. Preach? Teach? Do the work of the evangelist? Tell me. Please.”
He laid his head on his mat and found himself dozing, pierced with a recollection of falling asleep when Jesus had asked him to stay up with Him.
Of all times, it had been the night Jesus would be betrayed. All evening the Master had seemed, to John, to be acting out of character. Yet as he reflected, he realized that Jesus was entirely Himself. He had spoken plainly, had loved and served His men, had prayed with them, prayed for them, seen to their nourishment, talked of His future, predicted His own end, washed their feet. That last had caught everyone off guard, just as had His averring that He would be betrayed. To a man they had pledged their loyalty, Peter the most vociferous, but Jesus foretold that he was the one who would deny Him thrice before the cock crowed twice.
Peter had responded in anger, “If I have to die with You, I will not deny You.”
The pain of having been singled out was etched on Peter’s face, and John not only believed his friend, but he also joined the others in chorusing, “Yes, yes, I would die first.”
And yet it had been just after this that Jesus went to His favorite place to pray, and John and the rest had followed, as was their custom. John had always loved to hear Jesus pray. It was one thing to be taught by Him and to try to approach God in the manner the Master had instructed. But to come to believe that your teacher was the Son of God Himself and then to hear Him speak to His Father directly…
Jesus told John and the others to pray so they would not enter into temptation. It was not unusual for them to be puzzled by such comments, but it was unusual that no one asked for clarification. What form of temptation had He meant? What were they to avoid? It was clear Jesus was deeply distracted and troubled in spirit, yet He had not asked that they pray for Him, but rather for themselves.
As they made a show of huddling near the trunk of a large olive tree, Jesus moved away from them about a stone’s throw and knelt. John listened carefully as the teacher prayed, “Father, if it is Your will, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done.”
John squinted in the darkness as his dearest friend seemed to recoil and then open His eyes, as if something or someone had interrupted Him. He soon returned to His reverie, praying earnestly, but John could no longer make out the words. Anyway, John himself was to be praying against falling into temptation. He turned and bowed his head, but almost immediately fatigue washed over him.
His mates were not praying aloud, and one—he wasn’t sure which—had drifted into deep, rhythmic breathing, as if about to snore. John had to smile. Perhaps the temptation to sleep was what they were to pray to avoid! They had been fed, washed, had ventured out into the cool evening air—and now they sat. Perhaps on another evening they would have been content, but for himself, sorrow consumed John. Jesus had spoken elusively at first, but
By the time the men reached John’s small quarters, he was exhausted and acceded to their urging that he try napping. One of the women delivered fruit and a cup of water, and when his stomach was sated and his thirst slaked, John stretched out on his pallet. But weary as he was, his mind continued to race.
The old apostle rolled up on his side and let the breeze from the window fan his face. And he felt a deep urgency in his spirit. “What is it, Lord?” he whispered. “What would you have me do?”
John rose and knelt by his mat, knees aching. “Father, I am at Your mercy. I will do whatever You give me the strength to do. Preach? Teach? Do the work of the evangelist? Tell me. Please.”
He laid his head on his mat and found himself dozing, pierced with a recollection of falling asleep when Jesus had asked him to stay up with Him.
Of all times, it had been the night Jesus would be betrayed. All evening the Master had seemed, to John, to be acting out of character. Yet as he reflected, he realized that Jesus was entirely Himself. He had spoken plainly, had loved and served His men, had prayed with them, prayed for them, seen to their nourishment, talked of His future, predicted His own end, washed their feet. That last had caught everyone off guard, just as had His averring that He would be betrayed. To a man they had pledged their loyalty, Peter the most vociferous, but Jesus foretold that he was the one who would deny Him thrice before the cock crowed twice.
Peter had responded in anger, “If I have to die with You, I will not deny You.”
The pain of having been singled out was etched on Peter’s face, and John not only believed his friend, but he also joined the others in chorusing, “Yes, yes, I would die first.”
And yet it had been just after this that Jesus went to His favorite place to pray, and John and the rest had followed, as was their custom. John had always loved to hear Jesus pray. It was one thing to be taught by Him and to try to approach God in the manner the Master had instructed. But to come to believe that your teacher was the Son of God Himself and then to hear Him speak to His Father directly…
Jesus told John and the others to pray so they would not enter into temptation. It was not unusual for them to be puzzled by such comments, but it was unusual that no one asked for clarification. What form of temptation had He meant? What were they to avoid? It was clear Jesus was deeply distracted and troubled in spirit, yet He had not asked that they pray for Him, but rather for themselves.
As they made a show of huddling near the trunk of a large olive tree, Jesus moved away from them about a stone’s throw and knelt. John listened carefully as the teacher prayed, “Father, if it is Your will, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done.”
John squinted in the darkness as his dearest friend seemed to recoil and then open His eyes, as if something or someone had interrupted Him. He soon returned to His reverie, praying earnestly, but John could no longer make out the words. Anyway, John himself was to be praying against falling into temptation. He turned and bowed his head, but almost immediately fatigue washed over him.
His mates were not praying aloud, and one—he wasn’t sure which—had drifted into deep, rhythmic breathing, as if about to snore. John had to smile. Perhaps the temptation to sleep was what they were to pray to avoid! They had been fed, washed, had ventured out into the cool evening air—and now they sat. Perhaps on another evening they would have been content, but for himself, sorrow consumed John. Jesus had spoken elusively at first, but
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