From Matthew 26 and John 18 

After the Passover meal, Jesus went out with his disciples into the Kidron Valley, where there was a garden; and he and his disciples went in. Now Judas, who betrayed him, also knew the place, for Jesus often met there with the twelve.

Jesus said to them: “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” Taking with him Peter, James, and John, he became troubled and upset. “My soul is sorrowful to the point of death. Please, stay here and watch with me.” He went a little ways away from them and prayed with his face to the ground. But when he turned around, he found them sleeping. 

Addressing Peter, he said: “Could you not watch with me even one hour? The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” This happened two more times: he prayed; they slept—and then his betrayer arrived.

Jesus knows his friends are weary. One of them was so weary he gave up.

Because, scripture tells us, Judas knew this garden, too. But he grew fatally weary. Weary of hoping. Weary of following. Weary of questions without answers, and answers that weren’t what he wanted. Judas had been in the garden. He’d been with Jesus—more, even, than most people. But when his own strength, his own understanding, was exhausted, he didn’t ask Jesus to keep him awake.

These drowsy friends are the same men who earlier in the evening all asked: “Is it I, Lord?” when Jesus told them over dinner that one of them would betray him. Each of them knows his private weaknesses. Imagine nervousness in their voices; they know the holes in their hearts.

It’s for their own good that Jesus tells them not to sleep. “Watch and pray with me,” he says—not because he’s scared, not because he’s lonely, not because he’s afraid—though maybe he is all those things. “Watch and pray,” he says, “so that you will not fall into temptation.” Don’t fall asleep. Don’t give up. Stay with me.

We know physical, mental exhaustion. Many of us have been pushed to the brink of it and beyond. Right now, picture the situations that exhaust you beyond what you can bear. And picture yourself in that garden, as night falls down and your savior prays his heart out—for you. For us. For the sake of the world.

The temptation will always be to give up. To close our eyes, close our hearts, and give in to the weariness.

Instead of closing your eyes in that garden, raise them up. Listen to Psalm 121:

“I lift my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth….

He who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.”

Our bodies fall asleep. Our best plans let us down. There is only one who never sleeps, and who can keep us awake. And he says to you what he has always said to those he loves:

Don’t fall asleep. Don’t give up. Stay with me.