"organized religion has domesticated the crucified Lord of Glory
turned him into a tame theological symbol.
Theological symbols do not sweat blood in the night"
Brennan Manning
his face pressed into the soil of the garden he once breathed into being
his body shaking in the violence of the struggle
writhing
groaning
pleading for some other way
and yet
loving his father
fighting the darkness in his desire to obey
his father's outstretched hand holding a cup
a cup filled with a nauseatingly filthy poison called sin
the stench overwhelming
churning through the garden like a tornado
churning the body, soul and spirit of this man Jesus
causing his blood to stain the ground
his father watches
his friends sleep
the world cares not
and what would I see of myself
if I dared to look deep into that cup
Abba
Father
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