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 14:1-11: 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.