Tonight is the night we commemorate the suffering of Christ in the garden of Gethsemane. After the Last Supper (most likely around 10:00 at night), the Savior took His disciples down the Kidron Valley and then up the Mount of Olives. Only a few days previous (Palm Sunday) the Savior had come down this same mount to the shouts of praise by the Jews who hailed Him as King of kings, as the anointed Messiah. Yet, now He went with no fanfare into the Garden where He would take upon Him the sins of the world.
Gethsemane is the name of an olive press, thus, the garden was named after the press that crushed the olives to make the precious life giving oil. The fact that Christ chose a garden called Gethsemane is significant for many reasons. Olive oil was highly significant and holy for Jews. Olive oil was what lit the home of every home and building, including the Temple in Jerusalem. Olive oil was used as an ointment to heal wounds and as a base for perfumes of all types. Olive oil was used for almost all cooking purposes, and olives were a staple of many meals in Israel. Oil was also used to anoint Kings, Priests, and Prophets. Olive oil would have been a central part of any Jewish home, and was a central part of the Jewish religion. It could be compared to our modern day electricity (it gives us light, helps us cook our meals, powers our hospitals that sustain life, etc.) Without it life would not be the same.
The very process by which olive oil was produced is also very significant and symbolic. To produce the oil, you had to first crush the olives with a huge stone wheel that basically pulverized the olive into a paste like mush. Then the mush was placed in large woven bags where they were situated under the pressure of the gethsemane (or press). The bags would be located under a long arm that had large rocks tied to it to help press it. In addition, a rod was turned that slowly pulled down the long arm until the olive oil began to spill from the woven bag into the troth below. The oil was actually very dark red in color because of the rinds of the olive (not golden clear like we see it today in the stores). This intense pressure was required to produce this life giving substance.
The symbolism of olive oil and the suffering that Christ endured in this garden named after the press is laden with significance. Christ in the Gospel of John states that He is the Light of the world. It is through His precious blood that our way has been illuminated. Christ is the ointment that will not only heal our souls, but give a sweet fragrance to the bitter difficulties we face in life. It is through His precious blood that our wounds are healed. Christ also stated that He was the bread of life. A critical part of ancient bread was olive oil (not only was it used in the actual ingredients, but also to cook it). It is through His precious blood, that He so freely spilt, that we can have the bread of life, and live forever because of His ultimate sacrifice. Even the very name of Jesus Christ means anointed one (Messiah in Hebrew, and Christ in Greek both mean anointed one). Thus, Jesus was the anointed one, the great King of kings, the High Priest, the holy Prophet. It is through His blood, which is symbolized in the oil that we use today, wherein we are anointed that we may gain the blessings of eternal life.
Christ alone paid the price for sin. He had the weight of the world press down upon Him until He bled from every poor. This blood He so freely spilt, gives us comfort and healing, life and light. How grateful I am that on this night the Christ would be willing to bear the burden of my sins, that I might be healed. Three years ago I had the chance to sit in the Garden of Gethsemane in Jerusalem. As I sat there in the Church of All Nations (the Catholic Church located in the garden), I felt a great pain for the suffering that Christ suffered on my behalf. I sat there completely alone in the church and thought of when He was completely alone in the garden. I sat there in dark (the chapel is intentionally dark to represent night) as I thought of how the Messiah kneeled in darkness, pleading on my behalf to the Father. As He bore my burden, blood came from every poor. As these thoughts filled my mind, I was then filled with the most joyous happiness I have perhaps ever felt. I did not feel guilt for His pain, I felt peace. I did not feel anxiety for the suffering I caused Him, I felt forgiveness. I did not feel sadness for causing such anguish, I felt pure love.
I love my Savior, and will be eternally grateful for that which He did for me, in a garden called Gethsemane. In a garden that by its very name symbolizes the freedom, life, and light that has been brought into my life through His precious blood.
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