The Last Supper
"But What Was That Morning Like for Jesus?"

This day two thousand years ago marks a very significant event in biblical history. It was the day of the Last Supper between Jesus and his disciples. Thinking of that, our minds immediately go to the events of the evening meal which John, Jesus’ disciple, recorded so beautifully in John 13-17.

But this Tuesday morning, two thousand years ago, was much more to Jesus than just his last meal with the disciples... 

Jesus awoke very early that morning after only a few hours of restless and fitful sleep. Since his arrival in Jerusalem days ago, he’d been lodging at his friend Lazarus’ house in Bethany just east of the city.

It was still pitch dark outside as Jesus lay awake on the bed – his stomach in knots. He knew tonight would be his final meal with his disciples. His mind raced with memories of all the events and experiences he’d shared with them in the last year and a half. Sadness flooded his soul at the thought of being separated from them. They meant so much more to him than merely being his disciples. They were his friends. Tears rolled down his cheeks as his heart swelled with love for them.

Suddenly anxiety and fear washed over him. Instantly the thought struck him that twenty-four hours from now, he would be captured and at the mercy of the chief priests and their desire to kill him. He didn’t know how it would happen, but he knew that once the “first domino fell” he would be captive to a series of events that would take him to his death on a tree.

His stomach twisted again and tears filled his eyes once more at the thought of nine-inch nails being driven through his hands and feet. His heart was pounding.

Suddenly, the Holy Spirit impressed upon him the memory of his baptism by his friend, John, at the Jordan river when his Father spoke these words over him: “This is my son, with whom I am well pleased.”

Feeling his Father’s presence with him in that dark bedroom gave him comfort and strength. Yet, his soul could not let go of the tension he felt between the spiritual reality of his Father’s comforting presence and the terrifying realities of what this day held in store for him. He wrestled with the tension for what seemed an eternity... Then suddenly the Spirit whispered, “Psalm 24,” and the words of the psalm resounded clearly in his soul.

“Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the king of glory may come in.” 

He felt it in the “knower” of his spirit – when he walked into the city later that morning all the angelic hosts would be commanding the eastern gate to be lifted up for him... only him (Ezekiel 44:1-3)

Suddenly a rush of strength filled his soul and body as the Spirit reminded him of his identity. His love for his Father leapt as a flame from the depths of his being... his love for his friends... all the memories of every time he overcame adversity... 

Rising out of bed he walked silently outside to an isolated grove on the mountainside, and he prayed with his Father... 

The first rays of the morning sunrise beamed over the Mount of Olives. Looking towards the city, the morning sunlight illuminated his favorite meeting spot with his disciples in the garden of Gethsemane where they frequently gathered together for fellowship during his visits to Jerusalem. A gentle warmth filled his heart.

And another impression came upon him from the Holy Spirit. “Tonight, I will meet you there. There it will begin.”