Late last year, I had a conversation within my Bible study class, and one of those in the class wondered why we do not contemplate the passion of Jesus any longer during Lent. Traditionally, that’s what Lutherans did–at least on Wednesday nights. During the 40 days of preparation to receive the good news of Easter, Lutherans would spend time reflecting on what their Lord and Savior endured for them. This actually was news to me because my home congregation never did this. Neither did we learn this in seminary or did we practice it in my first call.
But as I thought about this member’s statement, I reflected upon the fact that I had never preached a sermon about this very important event in the life of the church. Aside from Good Friday when we have covered Jesus’ seven last words, I hadn’t preached on the events leading up to Jesus death. I thought to myself that this was not good. At all. In fact, the passion of our Lord is not covered in our Sunday morning worship services at all during the year. Well, I take that back somewhat, they do offer you a chance to cram the whole thing in on Palm/Passion Sunday, but that doesn’t do it justice. Not in the least.
So, when we discussed this in my adult Bible Study, I felt the call to preach on these events during Lent. Monday morning, I looked up the Passion Narrative for this year from the book of Matthew. I began dissecting it into smaller chunks which would be manageable for Sunday morning worship. The first section proved to be very, very intriguing.
The first lines begin, "14Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests 15and said, "What will you give me if I betray him to you?" They paid him thirty pieces of silver. 16And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him."
The betrayal by Judas. For thirty pieces of silver.
Holy cow! I thought to myself. I’ve never preached on the betrayal of Jesus. I’ve never reflected upon this in the midst of my congregation in 10 years of ministry. How could I have neglected this event? And then I had a thought that was not so pleasant. Would I, could I have betrayed Jesus? I didn’t necessarily like that thought. At all.
And so I kept reading: 17On the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying, "Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?" 18He said, "Go into the city to a certain man, and say to him, ‘The Teacher says, My time is near; I will keep the Passover at your house with my disciples.’" 19So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them, and they prepared the Passover meal. 20When it was evening, he took his place with the twelve; 21and while they were eating, he said, "Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me." 22And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, "Surely not I, Lord?"
I stopped there for a moment. Surely, I would be one of those sitting at the table who said, "Surely not I, Lord?" Surely, I would be one of those who would be appalled, revolted, deeply troubled by such a statement. I couldn’t betray my Lord. It would be impossible. Here is a man who healed the sick. Here is a man who fed the hungry. Here is a man who made the lame to walk, the blind to see, and the deaf to hear. Here is a man who brought hope to thousands–offering them the promise of God’s kingdom breaking into their midst. Here is a man who personally called me to follow Him and be His disciple. I couldn’t betray Him, could I? It had to be someone else.
I kept reading: 23He answered, "The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. 24The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that one not to have been born." 25Judas, who betrayed him, said, "Surely not I, Rabbi?" He replied, "You have said so."
Whoa! Wait a minute here. Even Judas, the one who betrayed Jesus asked, "Surely, not I Rabbi?" And Jesus, knowing Judas’ heart says, "You have said so." But Judas was making a show, was he not? Judas was trying to cover his tracks right in front of the other disciples. He didn’t want to go public with his thoughts and intentions. He didn’t want everyone to know what was going on deep down in his heart. On the outside, he looked just like the other disciples, but on the inside something was going on that was leading him down a nasty path. Something was going on within him that turned him against the King of kings. Inside Judas, there was something that wasn’t quite right.
This bothered me a great deal. For I know that within me there is something that is not quite right. There is something within me that rebels against God and His will. There is something within me that wishes to exert control and power and dominion irregardless of what others think. Yes, there is something within me that wants to be God. St. Paul captured the essence of this when he penned these words in Romans chapter 7: 18For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. 19For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. 20Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. 21So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. 22For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, 23but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? 25Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, with my mind I am a slave to the law of God, but with my flesh I am a slave to the law of sin.
Paul says, flat out, "I know what the good is. I know what I should do, but I am incapable of doing it. I want to do what is good, but evil lies close at hand. With my mind, I am a slave to the law of God, but with my flesh I am a slave to the law of sin."
What an uncomfortable thought.
I know what is right. My mind comprehends what is right.
But my flesh acts in another manner. My actions contradict my thoughts.
Could I betray Jesus?
Could any of us?
In our minds, we know it would be wrong, but would our actions override our thoughts?
And what if, what if each and every time we sin, we betray Jesus?
What if, what if, each and every time we know the right thing to do and we do not do it, we turn our backs upon Jesus?
What if, what if each time we choose a moment of pleasure we shouldn’t have; we take that extra drink; we turn away the poor; we hold our neighbor in contempt; we have anger toward our neighbor; we become self-righteous...
What if each time we have an opportunity to share the Gospel and show God’s holy and precious love to someone who desperately needs it, we clam up for fear of how we are going to be perceived...
What if in all these circumstances we are actually betraying Jesus? What if we are selling Him out to do the things we want to do instead of the things we are called to do?
It’s an unpleasant thought. I don’t like it one bit. I bet you don’t like it either. So, let’s pray: Good and gracious God, your Son suffered betrayal at the hands of one of his closest followers. While we would like to think we would never do such a thing, we are all aware that we are far too weak in the flesh. Give us your mercy. Give us your Spirit. Strengthen our hearts and minds to turn away from those things that betray your will and your witness. Empower us to be faithful and strive to do what you call us to do. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
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