The dinner with friends heavy in his gut he heads to the hills, the grip on his stick turns his knuckles white. A constriction in his brain arrests him in the garden each breath tightens his chest drops of blood on his forehead he sinks to his knees. To his right, Bethany, a safe haven, and beyond, the desert. To his left, Jerusalem, where all the prophets died. He prays, “Take this away.” A memory comes of what the old rabbis say, “The entire world is a narrow bridge, the essential of life is not to fear.” His before-the-ages-faith ratchets his spine. He rouses the sleeping disciples, “Get up. Let’s go. The hour has come.”
The images used in this presentation are statues at Gethsemane Abbey, KY where I was on retreat this week.
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