Jesus in Gethsemane

1

GETHSEMANE

– The capture, judgement and

condemnation to death,

of our Saviour

followed by His resurrection

and ascension to heaven.

Guided by a sincere and passionate desire, generated by a completely remarkable occurrence that can’tbe considered a simple jumble of daily thoughts that contend for priority, made up of the jumble of senseless dreams that mankind has while sleeping, I had a remarkable experience. It is a phenomenon much greater than my level of insight. This phenomenon has its roots in a world of brilliant intelligence, where perfection is totally sovereign.

Just as a blind occurrence cannot give birth to a mechanism which functions faultlessly, and just as there is no effect without cause, so it is also with this phenomenon. I will strive to describe it so that it can be understood, within the limits of my possibilities.

If some elementary shortcomings appear, I will welcome any recommendation for their correction. What is greater than these shortcomings, however, is the sincerity with which I have tried to put this modest book together. Even if some of the facts and scenery are dressed in an imaginary costume, they can remain intact and can be easily distinguished by those who will carefully follow the course of events.

What generated the effect of this book, remains an enigma that the reader or audience can hear only at the end of the content, if he will strive to find it, and if he has the necessary means.

However, I feel indebted to relieve him of possible errors in seeking the generating source. What is presented in this book is not the result of some hallucinations, of a psychotic unbalance, the words of a medium who pretends to have links with the spiritual world, nor are they the result of an excess of auto-suggestive fanaticism, capable of inventing the most absurd fantasies.

What happened, and is recorded here, took place on a night when my heart was alert, while my body was peacefully resting in its bed.

And in my dream, that I have named discovery, the upper room where Jesus and His disciples went to celebrate the Passover is shown. A single window that was open towards the sunrise lit the room on the second floor, where all was prepared. The narrow buildings, with their walls covered and blackened by the grime of time, surrounded the yard where I was, looking in a puzzled way at the architectural style that offered a really strange artistic taste.

Suddenly, a staggeringly emotional melody came from the aforesaid window, breaking the silence of the evening air. It seemed to cover the whole universe in a single moment. It was a baritone voice that crossed with such vigour, that I had the impression that not only the earth, but also the whole infinite expanse of planets were obliged to tremor and to understand the turmoil of emotions being expressed, flowing like uncontrolled waves, expressing the most profound human suffering ever known.

The rolling waves of sadness hadn’t ceased when other even grimmer ones came over them, to finally be swallowed up by billows of victory, which expressed full trust. However, after a few moments, this was also rocked to the foundations. The corner-stone was being put to the test. This stone was exactly the one that Jacob had put as the foundation and over which he poured anointing oil, thus putting the foundation of Bethel (God’s House). Never-the-less, in the end, this stone was again put into its place of honour, receiving the shine that it had lost for a few moments, again becoming the corner-stone; but this time it represented the foundation of the great Temple whose master and builder is God Himself. It is embedded so deeply into the heart of the earth that if someone wanted to take it out, or dispense with it, it would mean that the earth would be rocked to its foundations, and it would put our very existence as a human race in doubt.

For three hours I witnessed His sufferings. These waves threatened, in all their fury, the most dear and noble being that ever crossed the earth and which providence protected under her wings. I received not only the text and melody, but the most sensitive feelings came over me that completely overcame human virtue and divine power, which the Saviour could have used to save Himself.

The song began with the abyss of the death shudder, which an ordinary man feels and which he can’t repel, having to swallow the bitter pill. Slowly however, the melody and text rose up to a dominant note that could be nothing else except victory. If the final part could have been on this note, then the drama wouldn’t have been so complete.

But in the moment when victory was expressed at the culminant point, the foundations of the earth again shook and the waves of the death shudders were like, but worse than, a terrible and frightening fever of the One who, with a sweet voice, so often came to help those who are oppressed.

I won’t manage to adequately describe what happened in the upper room and in the garden, even though I was blessed to hear the song of praise that our precious Saviour sang in the upper room during the most difficult moments of His life.

This song wasn’t written beforehand, as is normal with a song. Each word that rose up out of His lips was the result of crude reality: the grips of life and death. Both sentiments were lived to the full, and the tremulous sweet voice didn’t cease to pour out the torrent of flames that roused a shudder of love in me for this being, so dear to my soul (Matthew 26:30; Mark 14:26).

I will strive to describe what I understood, but more importantly, what I felt in each of the sentiments that were expressed. I mention this because I wanted to immediately write down the text after I made contact with reality. I took up a pencil and paper, and I realised at the same time that the text and the melody had had such a great influence on me that it was impossible for it to be wiped from my memory.

Coming into possession of this material in this way, my conscience obliged me to put it down on paper and, at the same time, to add the commentary without which the reader or listener would not be able to arrange the material and so that the song’s text would be clearly understood, as well as what happened in the upper room and in the garden during the tragic events.

Thanks to the free constitution of conscience with which the Providence has honoured us in our days, I have dared to bring this modest work together, in the hope that in time, if the conditions will be favourable, I will be able to see it printed.

In the worst case, I will be happy that I have fulfilled the debt to my conscience, and that I haven’t buried a pearl that I had received in such happy conditions.

If there are some, in an excess of zeal, who doubt the authenticity of what is testified and written here, I would remind them of one thing, and that is, one thing that is worthy of remembering: my pearl doesn’t affect anyone’s interests. If it is lacking in value in someone’s eyes, then that person should put even less effort into lessening it. When needy people look through the rubbish for lost articles, even if it is of little value, it sometimes happens that he finds something of value; something that he didn’t know was hidden there.

Someone, looking for something that isn’t important, came across a pearl that a rich man had intentionally thrown out, because it no longer shone. This pearl, being very old, had been passed on from father to son, without having been valued. The dust that had settled on it over the years had made it difficult for the inexperienced person to give it its true value. When a specialist saw it, he realised its true value: that it could ensure a poor man needs, for which he was very grateful.

My pearl can only be valued in a laboratory that has the necessary means to do so. After all the impurities that have been deposited on it have been removed, the shine that is on it will attract the looks of even he who would have passed by uninterested, not attaching any importance to it.

Only those who know how to keep it know its real value. A part of the Saviour’s physical and moral characteristics are reflected in it, being revealed when it was discovered.

By their contemplation, one can arrive at a height from where one can see all the beauty, much greater than is described here, going far beyond our imagination. They continue to be an inexhaustible source, that don’t cease to give impartially from the spiritual treasure house, made up of the coat-of-arms of the One who loved us so much and of which poor mankind would do without, it would mean the breaking up of the only boat that is floating among the threatening waves, being ready to sink in the ocean of human opinions, becoming stuck in the abyss of the philosophical concepts that are limited by time.

The text of the song the Saviour sang in the upper room represents a supplement to the group of Psalms, between 113 and 118, made up of the small halel that the Jews used to sing at Passover celebrations.

In Matthew’s Gospel, chapter 26, verse 30, we read the following: When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.

The first verse of the Saviour’s song represented an excerpt from what we read in Mark’s Gospel, chapter 14, verse 34. The second is contained in Psalm 69, verses 13-16, and the third in Psalm 118, verses 25-27. The last in found in Psalm 30, verses 11 and 12.

The songs, which were sung in the Saviour’s language, contained the following words:

My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death;

Stay here and keep watch,

Keep watch, to no longer fall into temptation

And to call on Him in ardent prayer.

Call on Him who removes the pain,

And raises up the humbled;

The One who sends deliverance from heaven,

And listen to the sigh when you feel abandoned.

Help me, O Lord, and give me victory;

Bound with sacrificial chords, dragged to the altar.

Ah! Won’t I drink the cup of complete suffering

When I fall under the cross, climbing My Calvary?

You have freed Me from my wailing

And turned it into joy

Sin, death, have I defeated

And in the weakness in which I was seized, You have come to help Me.

While the Saviour was singing the words My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death, I was feeling the terrible shudders that overcame Him and that came to confirm that JESUS is the Son of Man, who had contact with the suffering of mankind, in a body like ours, without being spared anything.

The sadness of death that Jesus, with His tremulous, sweet voice, was singing about, poured out in waves, overtaking His whole body.

The disciples were crying, and each one of them holding a piece of azimuth in his hand. They were crying with disappointment, with tears pouring down their faces, with their hearts on fire, and they were beginning to have doubts about the messianic character of Jesus.

What use was it for us? they said, to believe in the foundation of a new kingdom, when now His words are overcome with human weakness and are nothing like the ones He spoke during the storm . . . when He commanded the wind and through a single word He rebuked the waves and they quietened down. Where is His authority? We are bemused by a danger that we can’t avoid . . . bitter fate . . .

Jerusalem was immersed in quietness. The night had fallen like a black curtain. The agitated clouds had begun to gather over the Temple, where Judas was on the porch counting his silver again. He then put it carefully into the bag where the money for the poor had been before. Now he wasn’t interested in the poor, nor in the daily needs of the poor disciples. Naturally, he would buy a beautiful estate and he’d live quietly there. In the end, the One for whom he’d received the silver wasn’t the true Messiah. He was overcome by a feeling of thanksgiving because he’d managed to wake up an hour earlier, in the dark coldness and, thus, through a ‘happy’ occurrence, had managed to escape the persecution that would certainly break out against Jesus’ followers.

All this happened at the moment when the Saviour took on Himself a burden that was so great that He had to take to its conclusion in the shortest possible time.

The sadness unto death that JESUS had sung about had also overcome the disciples’ hearts and, because He knew what was going on in their minds, from His noble soul He allowed the second prelude to pour out, which would reveal what was to happen in the garden.

My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death / Stay here and keep watch. There’s only one way to escape from such a situation: to run to prayer.

2

Temptation Overtakes The Disciples’ Hearts

But for whom should they pray? And how would their prayer get to go, when their wings of faith were broken? On what would they prop themselves now? Their convictions had been shaken from their foundation . . . Has He nothing else left but to ask for our help? He, who so many times had filled our hearts with encouragement and revealed our thoughts to us . . . Now He is showing human weakness, and we have become like frightened doves who have been caught in the catcher’s net. Our fate will be bitter . . . We will all be put into a cage from which we won’t be able to escape . . . Our families will taste the bread and water of sadness for the rest of their lives. All our plans have become like dust. Abuse and shame have come on us. They will look at us as if we’re monsters and they will spit on us with righteous derision . . . We have gone astray on our own, and we have tried to lead others astray . . . O! Crude reality! . . . If only it was just a dream, it would have been so much better . . . We’d have woken up from this bitter nightmare, from such a tormenting burden. Now however, what more can we say? Our pain is eternal.

During this time, JESUS was looking at the scene of the dreadful temptations that were worrying the disciples’ hearts, and then He allowed the third prelude to pour out: Keep watch to no longer fall in temptation . . . And to call on Him in ardent prayer . . .

—All your plans are nothing . . . I haven’t urged you to pray for My salvation . . . who will help Me to escape . . . and even if He won’t get Me out of it, in vain would I ask for your help. Oh! If only you could maintain a normal vigil, the path to the spiritual one is long, and you will prove your tiredness from now on. Simon! I will be a stumbling block for you this night. I also have dark thoughts just like you; it is just that I don’t doubt the foundation of God’s Kingdom. If I have revealed the mystery of this Kingdom to you . . . then