Facing the Unfaceable

When was the last time you cried in front of someone outside your closest circle? Not a polite tear at a wedding, but the kind of crying where you just can't hold it together anymore, no matter who's watching. Most of us can't remember. We've got used to curated vulnerability — showing just enough struggle to seem authentic, but not so much that it makes anyone uncomfortable.

Ade Birkby asked that question at Crowd Church this week, and then answered it with an incredible story. A few years ago, on a calm August day off the coast of North Wales, he and a friend went paddle boarding. Within minutes, freak winds pushed them out to sea. Ade spent half an hour crawling back to shore, watching his friend get smaller and smaller behind him, knowing he couldn't go back without losing them both. Coast Guards were called. A local boat nearly turned around because conditions were too dangerous. His friend was eventually found — safe, shaken — but by the time Ade got him home, he walked through the door, saw his wife, and just broke down.

He didn't care who was there. It was just too much.

The Garden That Wasn't a Garden

Before looking at this talk, most of us probably imagined the Garden of Gethsemane as something like a nice public park. Green grass, neat trees, peaceful. It wasn't. It was an agricultural industrial site — the place where olives were crushed to produce oil for the temple.

There's a quiet poetry in that. The place where oil was crushed for the temple became the place where Jesus was about to be crushed for humanity.

And right next to Gethsemane, the land drops off into the Jordan Valley wilderness. It was a well-known escape route, a traditional refuge for fugitives. Jesus could have slipped away in the night and nobody would have found him.

But He didn't run.

What the Four Gospels Show Us

We get three detailed accounts of what happened in the garden (John was likely asleep, so his version skips the details). Each writer brings a different lens.

Matthew, writing for a Jewish audience, shows Jesus fulfilling Old Testament patterns. Mark, the earliest and shortest gospel — designed to be memorised — gives us the raw action. And Luke, a physician, notices something the others didn't.

In Mark 14:34, Jesus says, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death." No sugarcoating. No brave face. He is at his wits' end.

Luke 22:44 records that his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. There's a medical condition called hematohidrosis — sweating blood under extreme stress. Luke the doctor spotted what the others missed. We always think of Jesus as divine. But while he walked this earth, he suffered like a human and felt like a human.

Then comes the prayer. Matthew 26:39 says he fell face to the ground — not standing, not kneeling, but prostrating. The deepest posture of supplication a rabbi could take. Hebrews 5:7 adds that he offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears. This wasn't quiet, composed prayer. This was raw.

And then, having poured it all out, he stands up and says, "Rise, let us go" (Matthew 26:45-46). Not "let's think about it." Not "maybe tomorrow." Let's go and do this. He embraces what lay ahead despite knowing the full horror of it.

Three things we can take from this.

1. Be realistic and honest about the situation.
2. Cry out to God.
3. And then, in his strength, embrace what's ahead.

God Is Not a Shelter

You may have noticed that our culture — and sometimes our churches — have quietly sold a version of faith that doesn't match reality.

One of the most misquoted verses in the Bible is 1 Corinthians 10:13. People paraphrase it as, "God will never put you through more than you can handle." But that's not what it says. The actual verse is about temptation, not hardship — "God is faithful. He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear, but when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it."

Hardship is a different story entirely. Revelation 6:9 tells us people have been slain for maintaining their testimony. In some countries today, following Jesus is a death sentence. God is not a shelter from life's storms.

But — and this is the bit that matters — he will be with us in them.

Isaiah 65:24 says, "Before they call I will answer. While they are still speaking, I will hear." God knows the situation before we do. Hebrews 4:16 invites us to approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in our time of need.

Notice what's promised there. Grace and mercy. Not deliverance. Not a fix. Not an escape route. The promise is presence.

When Expectations Meet Reality

During Conversation Street, the discussion turned to something that sits at the heart of this Easter season — why people walk away from faith.

Think about Palm Sunday. The crowds are laying palms and cloaks at Jesus' feet, publicly declaring him king. Some gave sacrificially — their cloaks weren't coming back, and it's not like they had a wardrobe full of spares. They'd made a bold confession of faith. They'd given to his ministry. They believed.

And yet, days later, many of those same people were spitting in his face. Or simply weren't there at the cross.

Why? Because Jesus didn't fulfil their expectation. They expected a king who would destroy Rome. They had promises from scripture. They had a picture of what a good God would do. When reality didn't match that picture, they either pressed in or they walked away.

That pattern hasn't changed. We declare Jesus as king. We give. We serve. And when things don't work out the way we expected, the temptation is to conclude that God isn't good, or isn't real, or isn't there.

Dan put it simply — people say "I've lost my faith," but often what they've actually lost is what they thought Jesus was going to do for them.

The thing about Easter, though, is that something better was always coming. God isn't so concerned with our comfort as he is with our transformation and our freedom. And those two things are quite often in tension.

One Day at a Time

Ellis asked in the comments how you hold onto God's promises when things have been going wrong for a long time and your hope is starting to fade.

Ade cares full-time for his wife Sonia, who has severe M.E., while working full-time himself. His own health has suffered. There are weeks — this one included — where he thinks, "How on earth am I going to do this for the next 20 years?" His answer is simple but hard-won — focus on what's next. Study the word. Stay active in community. Take each day at a time. Do what you can, then let go and let God.

Dan shared that his work has been quiet recently and his mood dropped hard. "It's almost like a physical battle," he said. "I just have to keep praying. And I know from the past that he's got me through it. And he will again. Gotta fix my eyes on him."

Sonia put it beautifully in the comments — "One step at a time and know with complete confidence that God is with us."

Where Is God in the Horror?

The biggest question came up naturally — where is God when people suffer?

"Where is God when people are losing their homes, when people are being bombed?" Ade asked before answering. "God was hanging on the cross for them, the same way he was hanging on the cross for you, for me, for everyone else. That is where God is in all of this — hanging on the cross. So the horrors that we see in this life are the last horrors that we will see in any life."

What to Do This Week

• Be honest with God. If you're struggling, don't perform for him. Jesus himself fell face to the ground and cried out. You can too.
• Check your expectations. Are you frustrated because God hasn't done what you expected? That frustration might be an invitation to trust him with the bigger picture rather than your timeline.
• Take it one day at a time. Don't try to solve the next 20 years. Just deal with today.
• Find your community. Facing the unfaceable is not a solo sport. If you don't have a community around you, Crowd Church would love to have you — start with the Live Lounge after Sunday's service.
• Serve someone in your struggle. If you're battling depression, anxiety, financial worry, or anything else — find someone fighting the same thing and ask, "How can I help you?" Coming at it in the opposite spirit changes something.

The Olive Press and the Cross

The place where olives were crushed for the temple became the place where Jesus was crushed for us. He could have run. The escape route was right there. He didn't take it.

And he didn't take it because he knew what we sometimes forget — that God's plan doesn't always look like rescue. Sometimes it looks like walking straight into the hardest thing you'll ever face, knowing that you are not walking alone.

John 16:33 — "In this world you will have trouble, but take heart. I have overcome the world."

Whatever you're facing this week, you're not facing it alone.