Everyone Has a Gethsemane Moment
There are moments when every instinct tells us to run—when the future feels uncertain, the cost of moving forward seems too great, and control slips from our hands.
Everyone has a Gethsemane.
In this Scattered Moments reflection, recorded more than a decade ago, Matt Tullos explores the kind of courage Jesus demonstrated in the garden: not fearless courage, but courage that trembles, prays, and still takes the next step. Through Gethsemane, Goliath, the belly of the beast—and even a few too many rides on Pirates of the Caribbean—this meditation asks what happens when the familiar has become a prison and faith calls us to step into the unknown.
Sometimes courage sounds less like “I’m not afraid” and more like “I’m afraid, but I will step forward anyway.”
Welcome to Scattered Moments. Courage for today. What does that mean? It means buckle your seatbelt, Dorothy, because Kansas is going bye-bye. This is the time when everything in your natural mind wants to run away. You realize that for the next few hours, months, or years, that they're out of your control, and that the decisions you make today could change your life forever. Every David has a Goliath. Every Esther has a Haman. Every Paul has a Jerusalem. And every believer has a Gethsemane. We fear the unknown. We fear abandonment. We fear surgeons, retirement, cancer, termination, divorce, long-term dysfunctional relationships, and for some reason, even intimacy. We come to the realization that closing our eyes, walking the plank, and jumping off may result not only in a change of location, but also being in the belly of a beast. What can you do when you're in the belly of a beast? Nothing but prey. You are no longer in control. You hop onto that Pirates of the Caribbean ride, only now the knives are real and the buccaneers aren't just mechanically running in a circle around a rum bear. You make a choice, and then others will choose for you. In a trip to Disney World a few years ago, my son Jacob was enthralled with the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. There wasn't a line, so we stayed on it 23 times. Must be a world record. If you've been on that ride as many times as I have, the memories of robot pirates chasing brazen harlots on the street corner in a town eerily similar to the French Quarter of New Orleans. They're maddening. I haven't been there in years, but the cool ventilation, the flashing lights, and the music are still bouncing around in my head. Spiritually, many people never get off the ride out of their own volition. It takes courage to leave. It takes courage to leave the dysfunction, bad habits, and abuse. Many of us say, I'm gonna stay on the ride because although I hate that it never ends, at least it's predictable. We fear. Jesus displayed the courage that we need. It isn't a fearless courage. It's not a stony, lifeless courage. It's a blood, sweat courage. It is a self-talking courage that admits I am scared out of my brain, but I will step out, step forward, and step closer to God's plan. And yes, this narrow way is the way that leads to real life. To understand the true depth of love, we must see Christ who surveyed the wrath of his Holy Father and stepped into the fray of redemption. He bids us to walk toward the cross with no guarantee that we will be safe on this earth. His only promise is his presence and the whole of eternity. And this is worth all the fear we'll face. Prayer. Lord Jesus, Son of God, why am I so afraid of life in its unmasked glory? Teach me to rely on you. Lord, move me forward in courage. Lord Jesus Christ, move me toward true and living life.
