March 21

Morning

Look, an hour is coming and has already come when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and you will leave Me all alone. Yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me. — John 16:32 BSB

Few had the privilege of sharing in the sorrows of Gethsemane. Most of the disciples weren’t mature enough in their faith to witness the mysteries of “the agony.” Preoccupied with the Passover feast at their own homes, they represent those who live by the letter but are still spiritual infants in the gospel. Only twelve, or rather eleven, were given the honor of entering Gethsemane to witness “this great sight.” Of those eleven, eight were left at a distance; they had fellowship, but not the kind reserved for those greatly beloved. Only three chosen ones could draw near to the veil of our Lord’s mysterious sorrow, and even they had to stay at a respectful distance. Jesus had to tread the winepress alone, with no one from the people to walk with Him.

Peter, James, and John represent the few mature and experienced believers who could be called “Fathers.” These, having faced great trials, can somewhat understand the immense waves of their Redeemer’s suffering. Some chosen souls are given the privilege, for the benefit of others and to prepare them for future trials, to enter the inner circle and hear the pleadings of our suffering High Priest. They share in His sufferings and are made like Him in His death. But even they cannot fully enter the secret places of the Savior’s sorrow. The phrase “Your unknown sufferings” from the liturgy captures this well. There was a depth to our Master’s grief that no human could ever know or share. In that place, Jesus was truly “left all alone.” Isn’t Watts right when he sings—

“And all the unknown joys He gives,
Were bought with agonies unknown”?

Evening

Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades or loosen the belt of Orion? — Job 38:31 BSB

If we’re tempted to boast about our abilities, the grandeur of nature can quickly remind us how small we are. We can’t move even the smallest of stars or dim the faintest ray of the morning light. We talk about power, but the heavens laugh at us. When the Pleiades shine joyfully in spring, we can’t control their influence; and when Orion rules and winter holds everything in its icy grip, we can’t loosen its hold. The seasons turn as God has appointed them, and no human effort can change that. Lord, what is man?

In the spiritual world, just like in the natural world, our power is limited in every way. When the Holy Spirit spreads His joy in a soul, no one can disturb it. All the tricks and schemes of men are powerless to stop the life-giving work of the Comforter. When He decides to visit a church and revive it, even the most determined enemies can’t resist it; they might mock it, but they can no more stop it than they can push back springtime when the Pleiades appear. If God wills it, it will happen.

On the other hand, if the Lord, in His sovereignty or justice, binds someone in spiritual bondage, who can set them free? Only God can remove the winter of spiritual death from a person or a people. He loosens the bands of Orion, and no one else can. What a blessing that He can do it! Oh, that He would perform that wonder tonight.

Lord, end my winter, and let my spring begin. No matter how much I long for it, I can’t raise my soul from its dullness and death, but with You, all things are possible. I need heavenly influences, the bright beams of Your love, the rays of Your grace, and the light of Your face—these are my Pleiades. I suffer from sin and temptation, which are my wintry signs, my dreadful Orion. Lord, work wonders in me, and for me! Amen.