The Arrest of Jesus

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight, as my candle flickered softly, I sat with Mini nestled close, flipping through the pages of my scrapbook. When I reached the old engraving of Jesus’ arrest in the garden, I traced the scene with my fingers—the flickering torches, the soldiers pressing in, Judas leaning close to betray Jesus with a kiss.

Just then, Mini suddenly leaped up onto my shoulder. She hardly ever does that. It was as if she had seen something—something beyond the worn edges of the picture, something that made her seek comfort, pressing her little body against mine. Her ears perked, her tiny chest rose and fell quickly, and she tucked her head near my neck, almost as if she were afraid. Almost as if, in that moment, she had stepped inside the scene itself—into the darkened garden, where the hush of night had been broken by shouts and the clash of weapons.

I held her close and turned to Sister Mary Claire, who had been watching quietly. She reached for the picture and, after a moment, spoke softly. She reminded me of today’s meditation, how Jesus, knowing Judas would betray Him, still called him Friend. Even as the torches flared and the soldiers seized Him, Jesus’ heart was full of love, not anger. “What a sorrow it must have been,” she said, “to receive such a kiss—not one of love, but of betrayal.”

I looked down at Mini, still nestled against me, her little eyes watching. If she had been there that night in Gethsemane, I think she would have whimpered and hidden at Jesus’ feet. And I wonder, would I have stayed close, or would I have run in fear like the others?

Sister Mary Claire reminded me that even when we fail, Jesus is always ready to forgive. “But,” she said, “we must never let our hearts grow cold, like Judas’ did.” She told me to ask for the grace to be faithful in little things, so that I may always choose love over betrayal.

I kissed Mini’s head and whispered a little prayer:

O Sacred Heart of Jesus,

keep me always faithful to You.

Help me to love You in both great and small ways,

never letting my heart grow cold.

May I always answer Your call with love,

and never with a kiss of betrayal.

Amen.

As I close my diary tonight, Mini is still curled against me, as if she, too, is thinking of that sorrowful night in the garden.

The Mission Book