Mark 15:1-15: being Barabbas

With the benefit of hindsight we look at Jesus’ trial in Mark 15:1-15, and we can’t help but feel heartbreak.  How is it, why is it, that the Son of God who came and showed such compassion, such love for those around him, now stands alone, rejected by the very ones he can to save?  We come to this story again and again in frustration and in sorrow.  We come in frustration because in our estimation things should have gone differently, and in sorrow because we realize that it is because of our own sin that things had to be this way.  It is possible, I think, to also come away from this passage with not only frustration and sorrow, but also insight.  Is it possible that we can find in this story not just redemption for our souls, but also redemption from the thinking that brought the world to this time and place? 

To begin with, I’d offer the observation that when it comes to Jesus, we should never accept an imitation.  It seems like an obvious statement to make, but we are as prone to being fooled as the crowds that turned on Jesus that Good Friday.  Barabbas’ name, which is translated “son of the Father”, was a popular name among rabbis.  In Matthew 27:16 Barabbas is supplied with the first name Jesus, so that the crowd chooses between two Jesus- a situation rich in irony.  The Jesus in view here, Jesus Barabbas, was somehow tied to an insurrection, perhaps to a patriotic movement for independence from Rome.  This puts him more in line with what people would expect in a messiah, and thus when given the choice between two Jesus’, the crowd chooses the one that fits their expectations.  Barabbas stands as a model for all false messiahs, promising victory but bringing suffering.  Such was the experience of Jews in Palestine throughout the centuries surrounding Jesus’ life, whenever they bought into the hope offered by such men.  The true messiah, Jesus Christ, succeeds beyond all our expectations, promising suffering that leads to ultimate victory.  When given the choice of messiahs, which one do we choose?  Do we choose the real one, or the one that fits our idea of what a messiah should be?

If we are going to learn to follow the true Messiah, the one who offers a path of suffering that leads to ultimate victory, we will have to learn that we cannot go with the crowd.  We see the crown shouting out in complete and enthusiastic condemnation of Jesus.  The last time “shout out” was used was to describe the crowds enthusiastic greeting of Jesus during his entry into Jerusalem (Mark 11:9)  In the span of a few chapters Jesus has gone from being hailed as messiah, to being deemed deserving of the worst death imaginable.  How can a crowd so quickly swing from one extreme to the other?  In this instance, it is evident that the chief priests have control of the crowd, and are able to guide them to fulfilling their agenda.  It seems very similar to a scene in the coliseum, where the crowd would determine the fate of defeated gladiators.  The conventional political wisdom of the day was that when confronting the Roman authorities with a request or demand, it was best to do so with as large and boisterous a crowd as possible.  The lesson here is that far from having wisdom, crowds have agendas, and usually unbeknownst to the crowd itself, the agenda is being controlled by an extremely small group of people.  We are not liberated through crowds or the agendas of others that control such crowds, rather we are liberated by following in the footsteps of a single man, Jesus Christ, the one who died to redeem the very crowd which raged against him. 

A final point that can be gleaned from this passage, and perhaps the one that deserves the most emphasis, is that just like the two Jesus’, Jesus Christ and Jesus Barabbas, we get a fate we don’t deserve.  You see, imprisonment was not a common legal penalty in the Greco-Roman world, so any prisoner to be released was either awaiting trial, or had already been condemned and was awaiting sentencing.  This means Barabbas had more than likely either already been tried, or was awaiting sentencing.  We see this often in the life of the apostle Paul as we read of his career.  His imprisonment is usually a precursor to a trial, whether that trial is before a group of local officials, a proconsul, or the emperor himself.  When the Romans chose to grant amnesty, there were two forms in which it was given.  There was the abolitio, or acquittal of a prisoner not yet condemned.  And there was also the indulgentia, or the pardoning of one already condemned.   Jesus dies for the crimes of Barabbas, though he was innocent, while Barabbas is let free, though he is guilty.  If this doesn’t sound familiar to you, it should, for we could very easily substitute in any of our names in the place of Barabbas, and the sentence would hold just as much truth as it does in its current construction.  Jesus’ trial was more than a mere legal proceeding; it was the acting out of the divine drama of redemption, forgiveness, and grace.  To put it in Roman legal terms you’re now familiar with, by not receiving an abolitio, Jesus wins for us an indulgentia. 

Vote like a Christian

It's one of my favorite times of the year.  Well, actually this time only comes around every two years.  As someone fascinated with both politics and history, every election cycle poses a delightful new set of issues, candidates, and story-lines.   While there are so many things to love about the political process- the ability to choose our own leaders being at the top of the list- there are also a few challenges, particularly for people of faith.  With no party having a monopoly on morality, how do I decide how to cast my vote in a way that reflects a commitment to my faith?  It's a question I have struggled with each time I vote, and unfortunately I don't seem to be any closer to figuring out how to best use my vote to support all the issues I care about.  And yet, despite the unanswered questions I find myself learning lessons about my faith, and what it means to be part of a Christian community, every time I cast a ballot.

-  One of the most frequent complaints I hear about voting is that "my vote doesn't matter". 

At its heart this complaint is not a lament about being a single individual, but rather an individual in a community.  What really rubs us the wrong way is not that our vote doesn't count, but that it doesn't count anymore than the next persons.  One of the most valuable lessons we learn every time we cast our ballot is that we have the right to make our voice heard, with the understanding that our voice is just one of many.  The humbling fact that our vote is simply one in thousands, if not millions, is a powerful bulwark against the sometimes overwhelming tide of individualism that seeks to place our opinions on the pedestal of superiority.  The bulwark is needed not only in our cities, states, and country; it's needed in our churches.  Few people pack up and leave the country when an election doesn't go their way.  Perhaps its just an issue of practicality, but I would like to think that its really an issue of commitment.  Our commitment to our country keeps us here, even when things aren't to our liking.  Can we honestly say the same about our devotion to our community of faith? 

-  Our leaders are not perfect, but then again neither are we. 

I must admit that as I was going down the ballot making decisions, I was struck by the lack of viable options in a number of races.  I mean, seriously?  There was even one time where the lack of an alternative led me to write in my dad for an office (which is actually kind of fun when your dad's name is Richard Simmons, but I digress).  When we look at the mud-slinging, the corruption, and the failures attached to almost every candidates name, we are left imploring the Almighty to save us from almost certain ruin.  However, we must be honest and realize that the stark reality is that every one of us is flawed in some way.  We open our Bibles and find an Abraham whose attempts to fix things only made things worse (a track-record of failure is unlikely to win over the voters), a Moses with a speech impediment (that would go over real well in the media age, although it does work for Lou Holtz), a David who is not only adulterous but who also murders to cover it up (imagine trying to put a positive spin on that one), a Peter whose first reaction is to chop a man's ear off (would you want his finger on the button that controls all the nukes?), and a Paul with a history of persecuting the very people he is called to teach and lead (I can't help but think King George III would not have faired well in the first presidential election).  I could go on and talk about the Father of our country who owned slaves, the hero of New Orleans whose treatment of the Indians would have made him a war criminal in the 20th century, the victorious Union General/President with a drinking problem, the womanizing skipper of PT109, or the Watergate kleptomaniac whose insecurities severely damaged America's faith in its leaders.  Whether its the pages of the Bible or an American History textbook, the examples of leaders who failed significantly are seemingly endless.  I think this is good.  For one, it reminds us that no one is perfect, not even the person we see in the mirror.  But more importantly, it shows us that so long as our hope is in man there will be severe limitations, and even disappointments. 

If you have even made it this far, you are probably thinking that the title of this note is extremely misleading.  I said I was going to tell you how to vote like a Christian, and yet I haven't told you who to vote for or what issues God most cares about.  For once, I would like to suggest that voting like a Christian is not only about how you vote, in terms of candidates and issues.  It's also about how you vote, in terms of the respect, dignity, and responsibility you bring to the political process itself.  To that end, I would like to suggest a few things you can do to "vote like a Christian":

1.  Remember that each and every person, every candidate and even every person with whom you vehemently disagree, is made in the image of God.  I am passionate about my political opinions.  They are the product of years of study and contemplation.  However, as a Christian I should be the most passionate about seeing the imago Dei, the image of God, in each and every person I meet, and loving them the same way that God their creator does.  

2.  Choose your battles wisely.  The older I get, the more convinced I am that the Devil's greatest trick is to lure the church into battles fought on the grounds of the courthouse and in the halls of Congress.  Indeed, there are times when the church is called to witness against various forms of oppression that exist in society, but our goal is not to make our views the law of the land, but rather to help usher in the kingdom of God where love, peace, and justice are written on every heart, not on tablets of stone or pieces of parchment.  Any triumph at the courthouse or in Congress that creates alienation or bitterness is a Pyrrhic victory won on the wrong battlefield.   

3.  Remember your calling, and in whom your hope is found.  No matter which political party you belong to, in the last decade you have experienced at least one election that proved to be disappointing, if not a downright disaster.  In addition to the natural urge to want to be on the winning side, we are saddled with the constant threat of impending doom if those on the other side aren't stopped.  If you listen to the political ads no matter who wins, America is going down the tank in a hurry.   Shockingly, as a Christian this doesn't bother me much.  Don't get me wrong, I love my country.  However, as a Christian my identity is not in my citizenship, where I went to school, my ethnicity, the size of my bank account, or my good looks (that's a relief!).  My identity is found in Christ, and my calling is to be His disciple.  Imagine if the players on the winning team in the World Series could look ahead and know they were going to win in seven games.   Can you picture the scene as reporters interview them after losing game six?   I think the most pressing question might be: "How is it that you are all so calm, when you are one game away from losing the World Series?".  As silly as the scenario sounds, it should be familiar to those of the Christian faith.  We profess to know what happens in game seven.  Indeed we are calm even in the midst of perceived defeats because we have faith that the final scene will be the eschatalogical ticker-tape parade that celebrates not the hoisting of a championship trophy, but the full realization of God's kingdom here on earth. 

Regardless of who you vote for or what issues you chose to support in the week ahead, my prayer is that you vote like a Christian. 

Mark 14:53-72: A Study in Contrasts

The last section of Mark 14 is about a study in contrasts.  On the one hand we have Jesus, who through his incarnation has become the temple where we experience God.   With Jesus incarnation, we are given a temple not made with human hands.  He alludes to as much in his discussion with some of the Jewish leaders in the gospel of John:

 “The Passover of the Jews was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.  In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there.   And making a whip of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and oxen. And he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables.   And he told those who sold the pigeons, “Take these things away; do not make my Father's house a house of trade.”  His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”  So the Jews said to him, “What sign do you show us for doing these things?”  Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  The Jews then said, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?”  But he was speaking about the temple of his body.  When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they believed the Scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.” – John 2:13-22

It was a theme that developed in the minds of Christians, with Paul explaining how as followers of Christ, we literally become part of that temple where the world can experience God:

“So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord.  In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.” – Ephesians 2:19-22

In addition to being the temple where we experience God, Jesus is also our Passover lamb, the one which is led to the slaughter.  His role as such was foretold by the prophet Isaiah when he described the coming Suffering Servant of God:

“He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.”       – Isaiah 53:7

John the Baptist, having read his Bible, recognized Jesus as the fulfillment of this prophecy when he saw Jesus and exclaimed, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29)  We even see Jesus praised as such in the vision of John passed on to us in the book of Revelation, when the living creatures and elders surrounding the throne of God proclaim:  “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (Revelation 5:12)

On the other hand we have Peter, a disciple who at his best follows at a distance and who at his worst blatantly denies his Lord.  We can go all the way back to the first part of Mark’s gospel and be reminded that Peter, or Simon as was called back then, has been with Jesus all along:

“Passing alongside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew the brother of Simon casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen.  And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, I will make you become fishers of men.”  And immediately they left their nets and followed him.” – Mark 1:16-18

Peter isn’t shy about reminding Jesus of this fact, even mentioning what they have all left behind in order to be Jesus disciples: “Peter began to say to him, “See, we have left everything and followed you.” (Mark 10:28)  And yet, where is Peter now?  The gospel tells us that, “Peter had followed him at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest.  And he was sitting with the guards and warming himself at the fire.” (Mark 14:54)  At this point in time, Peter is one who doesn’t know Jesus, even though he has spent months or maybe longer, following him around every day.  I wonder if any of us are in the same boat, going to church every week, hearing the proclamation of the gospel, but still failing to recognize who Jesus really is.  Peter denies knowing Jesus three times.  There is tragic irony in the fact that he still doesn’t understand that Jesus must suffer to fulfill his mission as the Messiah.  The state of Peter’s soul is reflected in the fact that he is an emotional wreck.  When the rooster crowed a second time, when the hour had passed in which he denied Jesus three times, Peter breaks down and weeps.  If you’ve ever had one of those moments in time when the monumental nature of your mistakes hits home, then you know exactly how Peter feels in this moment, and you probably sympathize.  Peter has really messed up, but his transgressions are not unforgiveable.  At this point in the story, it’s helpful to glance forward a little bit to the light at the end of the tunnel, lest we be overwhelmed with the darkness of the moment.  In Mark 16, part of the announcement of Jesus’ resurrection is this simple, but very important statement:

 “And he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed.  You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.  He is risen; he is not here.  See the place where they laid him.  But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee.  There you will see him, just as he told you.”                     – Mark 16:6-7

What is the significance of this statement?  Why are we skipping ahead to notice it now?  The significance lies in the fact that God’s faithfulness is not dependent upon our perfection.   Jesus remains faithful to his mission to redeem us, even as Peter denies Him in the courtyard below.  Peter would have let out a resounded amen to the words penned by his fellow apostle Paul to Timothy:

“The saying is trustworthy, for: ‘If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful- for he cannot deny himself.”   – II Timothy 2:11-13

God remains faithful, even when we do not.  Why?  Because it was our unfaithfulness, our inability to achieve perfection, that brought Jesus this earth to begin with.  When the news came that Jesus had risen from the dead, his disciples are summoned to meet with him in Galilee.  After the courtyard fiasco, my guess is Peter no longer considered himself part of that group.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to follow Jesus, but that he felt unworthy, he felt weighed down by the weight of his past mistakes.  How liberating must it have been for Peter to hear the words, “go tell his disciples and Peter.”  It is Jesus’ way of extending to Peter not only forgiveness, but an invitation to try again.

What an encouraging word, to hear the gospel as it speaks to us, revealing to us the fact that our God is a God of second chances.  Most of you know George Washington as our first President, the “father of his country”.  Out of his tenacity and skill as a military leader, our freedom as a country was born.  What you probably didn’t know was that Washington’s military record before the American Revolution was pretty dismal.  During the French and Indian War, he was responsible for building a fort, which he named Fort Necessity.  Unfortunately for him, he built the fort in the worst possible location, making it easy for the enemy to surround it and force its surrender.  Washington lost every man under his command, was underwent the humiliation of having to surrender himself.  What if he had allowed that initial failure, as bad as it was, prevent him from trying again?  What if Peter had rejected Jesus offer of forgiveness and restoration?    

When you’re voice becomes silence by the past, when Satan whispers in your ear, reminding you of all the times you’ve failed, clear your throat and remember; the Peter who denies Christ the night of his trial, is the same one who boldly proclaims him on Pentecost.  

Mark 14:43-52: Inauthentic Discipleship

The words “you Judas” have become synonymous with “traitor”.  He is portrayed as the arch-villain in the gospels, and for good reason.  The authorities needed some way of identifying Jesus.  Faces, even famous ones, weren’t as well known in ancient times, prior to the advent of mass media.  Judas provides that means of identification, and even tells the ones looking to arrest him where he can be conveniently and quietly captured, away from the volatile crowd.  He hails Jesus as “rabbi”, and even greets him with a kiss, outward signs of respect and obedience from an inwardly treacherous heart.  The Greek verb used for kiss, kataphileo, means to kiss with every show of affection, which only highlights the duplicity manifested by Judas’ actions. 

But there are other ways we fail Jesus.  It is true that sometimes we betray him, like Judas.  Some of us do it even while we extend our hands upward in praise, or bow our heads in prayer.  Other times though, our failures are far more discreet.  Maybe we don’t betray Jesus, maybe we simply flee like the young man in our story, refusing to stand with Jesus when it matters most.  Or maybe we just sleep, napping through life like Peter, James, and John dozing in Gethsemane, all the while oblivious to the fact that our discipleship is being tested.  We don’t have to be duplicitous to be inauthentic disciples, we can also be half-hearted. 

And yet, our failures only have power over us if we allow them to define us.  We should be reminded that when it comes to others and their faith, we can’t judge a book by its cover.  Judas seemed loyal, he to the extent that he was trusted to be the treasurer of the disciples, but he turned out to be a traitor.  Meanwhile, the three who seem incompetent, Peter, James, and John; they ultimately prove to be loyal in the end.   They prove to be loyal because Jesus’ arrest is not the end of the story.  Back in Mark 14:28 Jesus says, “after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.”  Jesus reference forward to his resurrection points beyond Mark’s gospel, and the words “go before” describe the action of a shepherd.  Jesus enters death before us, like a shepherd leading the flock, with the promise that because he emerges out the other side into life, so will we.  Like the disciples, who so often struggled, we must embraced that promise, and allow the spirit of Christ to transform us, all the while dying to ourselves, so that we might live for him. 

Almighty God,

We come before you as people who can identify with the disciples, especially with their failures.  Some of us are sleep-walking through life, not realizing how our faith is being tested.  Others of us have fled from your presence to chase the things of this world.  In some way, all of us have betrayed you.  And yet, you point us forward, to the light of your resurrection.  Allow the same Spirit that restored your disciples, making them men of faith and conviction, to work in our hearts.    We pray that we will not be defined by our failures, but by our faith in you.  We ask this in the name of the one who’s suffering redeems us, and makes us whole, Jesus Christ.  Amen.  

Mark 14:32-42: Praying for ourselves...and for others

It has often been said that character, or integrity, is what you do when no one is watching.  I would add that it also consists of what you do in life’s most difficult moments.  During the most pivotal moments of Jesus’ life, we see him in prayer.  In the midst of such adversity, Jesus includes those who thought they could handle it.  Peter, James, and John are brought with Jesus.  Peter because he has just boasted, and James and John because they said they were able to drink the cup that Jesus would drink (Mark 10:38-40).  We learn something valuable here.  Rather than reproach them, or list all the ways that they are unready for what lies ahead, Jesus allows experience to both teach and inform them as to their short-comings.  It’s trial-by-fire at one of humanity’s most crucial junctures.  Their failure to stay awake, even for an hour, reveals their inability and unpreparedness to deal with what Jesus is facing.   As at the Transfiguration the three are left speechless, something we can rarely say of Peter, who is always putting his foot in his mouth.   Jesus’ closest disciples are the ones who fail him.   The one praying is ready, while the ones who choose to sleep are found unprepared. 

It is the praying one, the one who is prepared, that serves as our constant example.  Even in the midst of his agony, even with the disappointment of being let down by those closest to him, Jesus’ concern is for others.  With everything else going on, Jesus comes three times to check on his disciples.  I have seen this same Christ-like spirit manifested in the various Christian communities of which I have been a part.  I have seen those confined to hospital beds ask about the family who just lost a loved one.  I have seen the woman who just lost her husband go visit the chronically-ill man whose time is coming to an end.  I’ve seen the grieving visit the suffering and the suffering pray for the grieving, each in a unique way demonstrating the attitude of Christ, who always showed more concern for others, than he showed for himself.  We even see it in life and death moments in the early church, as Stephen prays for those stoning him, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”  (Acts 7:60)  It sounds eerily similar to Jesus’ prayer on the cross, because it is from the heart of Christ that we learn to pray for others, even as we ourselves are in the midst of great suffering.  It is this selflessness that allows us to, like Christ, face our fate resolutely.  This resolution is expressed in this scene with the phrase, “get up.  Let us go to meet them.”  Jesus doesn’t run.  He doesn’t lay low hoping they can’t find them.  He goes to meet them.  He understands that in a powerful way, his misfortune will serve to enrich others.  The emphasis is made subtly in the original Greek when we read the phrase “see, my betrayer is at hand”.  The word for “at hand” is the same word Jesus uses to describe the in-breaking of the kingdom of God (1:15).  Judas is at hand, but he brings with him not betrayal and death, but the kingdom of God.  In the ultimate reversal of fortune, God is in the process of using death itself to bring about abundant, eternal life. 

Just as rebellion in one garden led to the victory of sin and death, faithfulness in another shall lead to redemption and eternal life.  

Mark 14:26-31: When our feelings outrun our faith

What happens when our feelings outrun our faith? 

At the conclusion of the Last Supper, Jesus and his disciples would have sung a hymn.  During the course of singing the hymns that night- which would have been centered on Psalm 113-118, the traditional hymns sung at Passover- Jesus would have made several statements. 

He would have pledged to keep his vows in the presence of all the people:

“What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits to me?

I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord,

I will pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people.

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.

O Lord, I am your servant; I am your servant, the son of your maidservant.

You have loosed my bonds.

I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving and call on the name of the Lord.

 I will pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people,

in the courts of the house of the Lord, in your midst, O Jerusalem.

Praise the Lord!”

-          Psalm 116:12-19

He would have called upon the Gentiles to join in the praise of God:

“Praise the Lord, all nations!  Extol him, all peoples!

For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever.

Praise the Lord!”

-          Psalm 117

And one of the last things he would have said would have been the following words:

 “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.”

-          Psalm 118:17

The boldness of the final statement is especially striking.  In that boldness, we see Jesus’ understanding that the events, events which seemed to have captured him, were really part of God’s plan for redemption.  He quotes from the prophet Zechariah, “Strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered…” (Zechariah 13:7), all the while knowing that the context of the passage is the forgiveness of Israel.  Back up to the beginning of Zechariah 13 and we read; “On that day there shall be a fountain opened for the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, to cleanse them from sin and uncleanness.” (Zechariah 13:1)  Jesus isn’t proof-texting, rather he’s showing that his own suffering is part and parcel with God’s plan to redeem mankind.  God’s agency in all these things is even communicated by a subtle change in the text itself, for while Zechariah reads “strike the shepherd”, in Mark Jesus says “I will strike the shepherd”, stressing God’s role in what is about to take place. 

Now that what Jesus is about to endure has become crystal clear, it’s a fair point to ask, “where are Peter, James, and John?”  What has happened to the ones who just a few chapters prior boldly proclaimed their willingness, and their ability, to go to hell and back with Jesus if need be.  While the other disciples remain silent, possibly pondering their fate if they remain with Jesus, Peter maintains his fervor in maintaining that he will show unswerving devotion to Jesus, even to the point of death.  Who among us hasn’t been in Peter’s shoes?  Caught up in the emotion of the moment, feeling that our commitment or character is being questioned, who among us hasn’t boldly proclaimed our feelings in powerful ways, only to realize that our mouth had written a check that our heart couldn’t cash.  So it is when our feelings outrun our faith.  It can be discouraging, and in some circumstance downright humiliating.  It’s hard to even see a bright side to the situation. 

And yet there is one.  There’s a bright side in the fact that God knows of our weaknesses, even if we haven’t realized them yet, and he loves us nonetheless.  In the words of Augustine:

“God knows in us even what we ourselves do not know in ourselves.  For Peter did not know his weakness when he heard from the Lord that he would deny him three times.”

– Augustine, Tractate on John

What God knew in Peter, he also knows in us.  He saw Peter’s enthusiasm, and knew that it often times set him up for failure.  He also saw Peter’s heart, and the potential for Peter to accomplish great things with a little help from the Holy Spirit.  If you find your mouth writing checks that your faith can’t cash, don’t write smaller checks, pray for a larger faith! 

Mark 14:12-25: a new covenant with an old story

What we see Jesus instituting in the middle of Mark 14 is a new covenant.  So many times we think of new and old as being antithetical.  However, while there is something distinctly new in this covenant, it is also rooted in something very old.  In fact, the context in which Jesus inaugurates this new covenant is in a celebration of the old one.  Jesus uses the celebration of God’s acting to deliver Israel in the past, to announce God’s deliverance of all mankind in the present. 

It was no accident that the Passover meal was the time chosen by Jesus to institute a reminder of the salvation wrought by God, for indeed that’s what the Passover meal already was.  The bread during a Passover meal would have been known as the “bread of affliction”.  It was a reminder of their former life in Egypt, and how they had to eat unleavened bread as they fled slavery.  Jesus takes familiar words, but then substitutes in “this is my body”, placing the emphasis not on the bread that we eat, but on his body which bore the price for our transgressions.   In his body, Jesus suffers the affliction that was meant for us.  In the Passover meal there are four cups: the cups of sanctification; judgment or deliverance; redemption; and praise or restoration.  It’s hard to say exactly which cup Jesus used to give us the memorial through which we remember his blood that was shed.  The most educated guess based on where it falls during the meal, would be the cup of redemption.  Why does Jesus use only one cup?  Maybe that particular cup carried the symbolism Jesus intended to convey.  Or, maybe his use of only one cup isn’t meant to symbolize just one of those four things; maybe the one cup is meant to symbolize the fact that Jesus is all of these things for us. 

He is our sanctification.

He is our deliverance from judgment.

He is our redemption.

He is our restoration, giving us reason to praise. 

Another way of stating this would be to say that Jesus is our Passover lamb.  The question has often been asked, if this is a Passover meal, where’s the lamb?  The main course of a Passover meal was the lamb, and yet in the account we have of the Last Supper, it is noticeably absent.  Of course that doesn’t mean they didn’t have one, perhaps they did and it simply isn’t mentioned.  Or again, perhaps there is a very good reason why it isn’t mentioned.  It’s possible that in the words of one commentator, “the lamb isn’t on the table, because the lamb is at the table.”  The words of John the Baptist ring true, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world!” (John 1:29) 

Beyond asking what this meal is about, we should also ask the question “who should we eat with?”  Is Communion, the Lord’s Supper only for the near-perfect?  Is it only the Christian with no struggles, no guilt, and no sinful past?  If those were the only one’s invited to the table, then the table would remain perpetually empty.  We all struggle, we all have guilt, and we all have sins in our past, and maybe even in the present to.  It’s important to note that Jesus eats with those who are about to betray, deny, and desert Him.  Could he have in mind the words of Psalm 23:5, “you prepare a table before me, in the presence of my enemies”?  Jesus knew what Judas was going to do, it says as much in the gospel of John.  Jesus predicts for us in the gospel Peter’s denial.  The others would also leave him standing alone in his hour of need.  And yet, there he is sitting with them; a traitor, one who is scared to even admit that he knows him, and others whose fear overcomes their faith.  It makes the petty differences I have with others seem a little less important.  It also shows how incomprehensible is the love of God.

Maybe you have betrayed Jesus.  Maybe you’ve denied Him.  At some point we all have.  As bad as that is and as guilty as we feel, the message of the gospel is that there is still room for us at the table.  Take comfort in the words of the final psalm they would have sung that night, “I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the Lord.” (Psalm 118:17)  The table reminds us of the present deliverance of our gracious God, offered to us because of the past actions Jesus Christ.  The invitation of the table is to proclaim that new-found life, to acknowledge the deeds of the Lord, in the midst of a dying world.     

Mark 14:1-11: Honoring and Dishonoring Christ

Plotting, anointing, and betrayal, that’s how Mark 14 opens.  It is becoming obvious, even if this is your first reading of Mark’s gospel, that events are about to come to a head.  There is a question that lies behind the plot of these eleven verses though.  The plotting, the anointing, and the betrayal all took place at a point in history- a very significant one at that- and because of their part in that narrative, the deeds we read of here have won a type of immortality that even Jesus acknowledges (“And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her”).  However, beyond their importance historically, each of these figures also serves an important role as an example of how we can honor, or dishonor, Jesus Christ. 

Let’s start with the bad news.  Sometimes we dishonor Jesus.  Usually when that happens, it happens discreetly.  Few among us are bold enough to openly refute Jesus claims.  Even those who do usually try to soften the blow with acclaim for his teaching, despite their reservations about his identity as the Son of God.  Before we are too harsh in our judgment of the chief priests and scribes, we should ask ourselves if there haven’t been times in our life where we sought to throw off the seemingly burdensome yoke of Jesus lordship, albeit as quietly as possible, because we found it inconvenient.  Maybe you don’t find yourself in the “discreetly rejecting Jesus” category, but rather identify with the “outward worship, inward betrayal” model of Judas.  None of us would like to think we have anything in common with Judas, the arch-villain or arch-villains.  And yet, ask yourself again, are there times when the content of your heart fails to match the outward displays of worship others see.  The world may see raised hands, or the look of one quietly reflecting on the goodness of God, all the while the inner self contains a boiling cauldron of fear, doubt, disobedience, or hate.  Maybe neither of these describes you, and that’s good.  Even so, at some point we all of us fall into the third trap, the trap of self-aggrandizement.  In just a short while when Jesus announces his impending betrayal to his disciples around the table, they show more concern for exonerating themselves than what this means for Jesus.  How many of us are more concerned with looking or acting righteous, than how that righteousness can serve Christ? 

There are times, hopefully lots of times, when we honor Jesus.  One way we can honor him is through our actions.  Consider this woman, who anoints Jesus with costly nard, or perfume.  She could have used the money for herself, or used the perfume on herself, but instead she offers them as gifts to the Messiah.  The original Greek of verse 8, “she has done what she could…” deliberately mirrors the Greek of Mark 12:44, where Jesus comments on the largesse of the widow who gave the two coins.  Like that widow, the woman who anoints Jesus remains nameless to us, but nonetheless she is remembered because of her actions.  How much time do we spend trying to ensure that our names are remembered,  when we could be acting in ways that will make a lasting impact and be remembered, even if our name is not.

A few years back I was on a mission trip to New Orleans.  We were putting on a VBS for a church in a very impoverished neighborhood.  A few days into it, one of the other chaperones noticed that this one little boy kept showing up in the same clothes.  Deeply moved by the plight of this boy, this woman went to Old Navy that day and spent a substantial amount of money buying the kid several new outfits to wear.  Does that child remember the name of the woman who bought him the clothes a few years ago? Probably not.  But somewhere in the recesses of his mind is a tangible reminder, a memory that reflects the love of Christ.  Christ wasn’t discreetly rejected by my friend that day, nor was he outwardly worshipped while being inwardly betrayed.  Christ was honored.  He wasn’t honored in words or in a song, but with actions that embody his love.  How can you honor Christ today?  In a thousand different ways; it’s easier, and yet far more challenging than you ever imagined.