Gethsemane

This is the third in a series of three paintings which I painted after completing the Spiritual Exercises. (The first and second can be found here and here.) This painting was created in 2020, after I had finished my third and last 10 day retreat. The theme of this retreat was the story of the passion, that is Jesus’ last days, death and resurrection.

One of the prayer exercises was to spend time with Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. In my imagination, as Jesus got up from where he had been kneeling to pray, I could see the flattened grass made by his feet and his knees. Here’s a quote from my prayer journal at that time:

The atmosphere had become more sombre, the table had been cleared and together we all left for the Mount of Olives. We walk pretty much in silence, arm in arm, knowing, sensing that the moment is approaching. As Jesus tells us to pray, he goes off alone but is close enough so we can still see him. My prayers are more groans than words. I look upwards and say ‘Father, look at your son.’ For perhaps the first time, I have compassion for Jesus. I continue to cry out to God whilst watching Jesus. I have never seen such desperation before, it is not easy to watch. After a time I can pray no longer, my compassion is spent, my eyes close and I fall asleep. I am awoken by Jesus, I have disappointed him again.

I imagined the patch of grass where Jesus had knelt, stained with drops of blood, sweat and tears, marks where he had knelt and hit the ground. But as I tried to take in the enormity of the moment a group of people arrived. Judas was among them, much to our surprise. We hadn’t noticed that he had slipped away. As he betrayed Jesus with a kiss, my reaction was more of disappointment rather than anger. Suddenly the flight or fight response returned, earlier it was tempting to run, now I was ready to fight, to protect Jesus, but Jesus says no. After his agonising prayer he has aligned himself with God’s will and is ready for it to happen. And so he is led away, leaving us behind, watching him go, trying to take it in, dumbfounded.

The image of the flattened grass is what inspired this painting. Although how I have positioned the flattened grass might not quite be accurate for someone who had been kneeling, it creates the shape of a cross - a foretaste of what was to come. The sides of the boxed canvas have been painted a dark red, symbolising blood that Jesus sweated in the garden and the blood of his subsequent death. It is a simple, small painting that reminds me of the much larger and greater act of love of Jesus.