The Garden of Gethsemane

The Hebrew meaning for Gethsemane is “oil press.” The Garden of Gethsemane is located in the Mount of Olives. This same oil was used in the lighting of the Temple lamps and for the anointing of kings. Jesus was called the Messiah, which means “the anointed one.”

In order to get the fullness of the olive it  must be crushed three times. As Jesus goes into the garden to pray he asked his disciples to stay awake and pray. Three times He found them sleeping.  Jesus knew what He had to face; the agony in the garden, where He would be crushed like the olives for the weight of the sins of the world. In Jesus’ case, He was crushed until His sweat turned into blood.

Luke 22:44   New American Bible (Revised Edition)

⁴⁴ He was in such agony and he prayed so fervently that his sweat became like drops of blood falling on the ground.

The Church of All Nations

I have visited the Garden of Gethsemane many, many times and I have received new revelations with each visit. This magnificent church is also referred to as the Basilica of the Agony.  With the help of twelve nations, this church was reconstructed in 1920- 1924. Of course the United States had a hand in this because we are truly a benevolent nation. The other countries donating were Argentina, Brazil , Chili, Mexico, Italy, France, Spain, England, Belgium, Canada and Germany. The name, The Church of  All Nations, was built with 12 nations and, like the 12 apostles, it means complete.

Walking past the olive trees is one of my favorite sites to visit. Archaeologists believe that some of these olive trees were around in the time of Jesus. An interesting fact about an olive tree is that when cut it will continue to grow. These century old olive trees are still producing olives.

As you walk into  the small basilica the focus is on the huge boulder located at the altar. This stone is believed to be where Jesus wept. To be at the same site that our Lord wept blood and to be able to pray and weep at the same spot is truly joyful.

The rock of agony is surrounded by a crown of thorns made of wrought iron. Depending on who is guarding the rock, we could usually enter through the gates to kneel and pray. I could spend hours interceding for others; but sometimes, to allow others an opportunity to do the same, we were ushered out.

Olive Branches 

Through the grace of God after so many years of visiting the Garden of Gethsemane, I finally got the courage to ask a Franciscan priest if we could have branches from the olive trees. I still have some of these leaves and I treasure them. I’ve shared with my students throughout the years as a small Christmas gift. I will do so this year as well.

My Gethsemane

In no instance am I comparing myself to Jesus in a His agony in the Garden of Gethsemane. But many times I find that I have to go deeper into my Gethsemane to reach a higher spiritual level. That may come across as heavy for some but in reality it’s attainable for all. Our world is filled with so many distractions which cause us to inadvertently take our eyes off  our calling. In my case, I get a shaking in a dream to redirect my path.

Getting Back Into the Spirit

The Lord gives me warning dreams whenever I step out of the spirit into the world. These dreams are often confusing, and I’m always finding a way to get out of the situation.

This is the most recent  dream:

I had a baby, and I was responsible for him. The baby was very dirty; he looked as if he had not had a bath in days. I quickly put him in the bathtub but in the commotion, I was distracted. I started to do other things. Then I remembered the baby. I ran in and started scrubbing the dirt off of him.

What does this dream mean? This is my interpretation: the baby represents something new that has been entrusted to me. I failed to pay attention to the baby. The outcome of my neglect was that things with the baby were not right.

The Classes

I have volunteered to teach First Holy Communion and Confirmation classes at St. Norbert.  So, after this dream, I started to review some of the lessons. Preparing for something God has entrusted me with, I must  have a pure and yielding spirit.

Since I struggle with dates and times, I quickly posted all the dates of the class in my phone calendar with a reminder.                          .

The Distraction

It’s easy to unwillingly open the door to distraction. Mine come in different forms such as unnecessary shopping or trying to find something entertaining on Netflix. I like true life stories and documentaries, but I love romantic comedies.

No More Garbage

In almost every case, a spirit of perversion is introduced in the third or fourth segment of romantic miniseries. I’m disgusted with Turkish, Italian and Jewish miniseries. They are following the same script of  some American moviemakers who are doing a wonderful job of destroying entertainment. Their agenda is for us to always accept a sinful lifestyle as the norm.

Prayer

I pray a lot. But sometimes I need assurance from the Lord, so I go  deeper into the garden. Alone, I separate myself from the world and pray. I usually start with a Rosary and then continue to add other petitions. Part of my calling is to pray for others.  Many times I feel a burden to pray for our nation and the crazy politicians who are running it.

My first priority is always for my family. I pray for their health, favor in their workplace, for our grandchildren to do well in school. I also pray for the future spouses for our grandchildren because God has the perfect man or woman set aside for them. I pray for the spiritual direction of many. For those who do not understand who they are in God’s Kingdom, I ask the Lord to reveal Himself in a dream to them..

Be the Light

We all could use a little crushing.  Always remember that the oil from the olive trees was used for lighting. We are the light that can never be extinguished.

Brian, Mitch, Carter and Mikos

Our son Mikos was in the 7th grade when he was  initiated into manhood.

The Accident

Our home was always the hangout house. I remember one day when the boys came home from school talking about Jeff, a classmate of theirs who had been hit by a car that afternoon. They had no idea of the severity of his injuries. They talked about how Jeff was a prankster and that he was going to be fine. I walked into the room to explain to the boys that this was a serious matter, but the boys could not comprehend the gravity of the situation. I tried to contact the hospital to check on Jeff’s condition, but because I was not family no information was disclosed. We would find out later through a mutual friend that Jeff was in intensive care. Jeff’s grave condition became worse. He was in a coma but came out of it long enough to tell his family how much he loved them; then he  died shortly thereafter. Mikos and his friends were in shock after hearing the news.

I never met Jeff.

Mitch

I agreed to take some of Mikos’ friends to the funeral services. Mitch, our neighbor, was a good friend of Mikos.

Mitch was my sweet friend too. He was the type of kid who grew on you – not a know-it-all  but he had a brilliant mind. Mitch was always visiting us. I would greet him at the door to tell him that Mikos was not home. I’d tell Mitch to come back later, but he’d talk his way into staying. “I’ll wait for him here,” he’d say. He offered to vacuum for me while he waited. He was adorably charming and had an old soul.

Of all of Mikos’ friends, Mitch processed Jeff’s death differently, in a more mature and sensitive manner. It was surreal to see how Mitch was emotionally connected to Jeff’s passing. I had planned to take my son and a few of their friends to the funeral services when Mitch called to ask for a ride. “No, I can’t take Mitch without his parents’ permission,” I remembered telling Mikos. Then  Mitch’s mom called to inform me that Mitch had her permission to go with us.

The Christmas Poinsettia

Jeff’s passing was right before Christmas and Mitch had purchased a poinsettia plant for Jeff’s family. Mitch’s mother was at work, so Mitch asked me to take him to deliver the flowers personally. I did not feel comfortable because I did not know the family personally.  Once again, Mitch’s convincing words persuaded me to take him. My daughter Sonja and I waited in the car for Mitch while he visited Jeff’s family.

Mitch’s Accident

Less than a month later, a young, novice driver caught the sun in her eyes and failed to see Mitch crossing the street. Mitch was riding his bike to catch one of Mikos’ basketball games when he was hit by the car. On the same infamous crosswalk where Jeff was hit by a car, Mitch met the same fate.  From our home I heard the ambulance and then the  helicopter that airlifted Mitch to the specialized head trauma department of a nearby hospital.

Mikos came home with the tragic news, but this time he understood the severity of the situation. I knew Mitch well, but had only met his parents a couple of times. Mikos wanted to go to the hospital, but that was out of the question; we were not family and out of respect I did not want to intrude.

Saying Goodbye

For several days Mitch fought for his life, but due to his severe head trauma it was only a matter of time. Mikos came to me and pleaded with me to take him to the hospital to say goodbye to Mitch. I explained to my son that the only way that was going to happen was if Mitch’s family personally called us. The following morning, Mitch’s mother called to inform us that there was no brain activity and that we could come and pay our respects.

As Mikos and I  walked into the hospital room, we could not fight back the tears. As I touched Mitch’s arm my heart was aching for his family and what they were experiencing with this unexpected blow. This beautiful boy with a brilliant mind was taken too soon.

My husband Mike and Mikos, along with Mitch’s friends, served as pallbearers for their young friend.

The Traffic Signal

Villa Park is a small community that wanted to keep the aesthetics of rural living without any traffic signals. Driving through Villa Park there are many stop signs, but during school sessions the middle school and high school converge at the same crosswalk. It is very busy. After Mitch’s death, the community gathered to protest and petitioned the city to place the only traffic signal in Villa Park.

I remembered peacefully marching with a large crowd of parents and children from Villa Park High School to City Hall.  It took the lives of two precious young men to have the traffic signal installed. I often think of Mitch and Jeff when passing this signal.

My Poem for Mitch

In my grief I wrote a poem for Mitch’s family,  which was read at his service:

O my son, the many things we’d say we’d do.

I have a hard time to find this real, this true.

The coldness of life has left me numb.

I ask you why, why my son?

You turn my way and hold me through this.

Is it your love I can’t understand?

Or is it my life which you want to command?

A life so young has now vanished I say.

But you, Lord, will not lead me astray.

Take my hand and I will follow.

Give me faith, at times mine is shallow.

I’m slow to remember, You, too, share my pain.

We share the same loss.

The difference…

Yours died on the Cross.

© Lynda Ciriza