When a person wants someone or something to "stay", he desires discontinuance or delay to that which is foreseen at hand. In most cases, this suspension allows one to prepare for what is imminent; to act prudently despite its (possible) inconveniences.
Jesus, for instance, in anticipation of His impending end, dramatically readies himself to suffer.
In anguish, he bleeds inwardly.
Crestfallen and disconsolated, he weeps in isolation. He alone knows, afterall, the intensity of his pain; He alone knows, even from the start, the misery of his own fate.
But when Jesus foresees all of these, he demands nothing from His Father's will. He, instead, like all human beings who go through the same discomfort, calls on for an "interruption"-- a stop, a respite, even for a moment. He does so not to change or prevent the inevitable to happen, but to find in a very limited time a rare kind of strength in every quiescence.
In the garden, he surrenders His divinity.
He kneels.
He cries.
He agonizes.
He pleads for a companion:
"Stay with me..."
Would you stay awake and watch Him even for tonight?
(A Maundy Thursday Reflection, 2019)
Digital Art by: Lot Jr Tabilid
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