As they were at the table eating, Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, one of you eating with me here will betray me.” Greatly distressed, each one asked in turn, “Am I the one?” He replied, “It is one of you twelve who is eating from this bowl with me. For the Son of Man must die, as the Scriptures declared long ago.” [Mark 14:18-21 (NLT)]
In my last post, I pondered why Jesus chose the men he did as his apostles. As we enter Holy Week and the events leading to the Lord’s arrest and crucifixion, I wonder specifically about Judas Iscariot. We don’t know what Jesus saw in Judas when he was chosen as one of the twelve or even what was in Judas’ heart in the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. We only know that discontent, ambition, and greed had entered his treacherous heart by the end.
Since all of His disciples abandoned Jesus that night in the garden, perhaps all twelve had the potential to be His betrayer. Peter not only fled, but he also denied Jesus—three times! The zealot Simon easily could have become disappointed in Jesus when it became clear that overthrowing Rome was not part of the Lord’s plan. Matthew’s past was shady and, like Judas, he could have been tempted to steal from their money bag and sell out the Lord. We have James and John: the angry men who wanted to call down fire on a Samaritan village because it wouldn’t welcome Jesus. The brothers had hoped for honored places by the earthly throne of Jesus. Could their disappointment in Jesus’ response to their request along with all His talk about being a servant have caused the brothers to think about betrayal? The disciples were twelve ordinary men—perhaps, any one of them could have chosen to be the betrayer.
As they gathered around the table that last night, Jesus told His disciples that He’d be betrayed by one of them. Rather than asking Jesus, “Who?” one by one the men asked, “Am I the one?” It seems that each disciple thought himself capable of betrayal. After all, throughout their three years with the Lord, they all must have had moments of disillusionment, doubt, fear, and confusion. Nevertheless, only one man allowed Satan to enter his heart.
Like Judas, we all harbor darkness in our hearts—each of us is capable of unspeakable evil. We can choose to be faithful or unfaithful, true or false, friend or foe. We can be true to Jesus or betray Him—the choice is ours.
Still, it’s difficult to understand why Jesus kept Judas around until that last night. Knowing what was going to happen, how could Jesus wash his feet and break bread with him? Later in the garden, when Judas greeted Him with a kiss, how could Jesus call him “friend?” Our Lord never asks us to do something He hasn’t done Himself. Perhaps, Jesus’ relationship with Judas was His way of demonstrating the sort of behavior He wants from all of His disciples—love, mercy, and forgiveness for our enemies, even for those who betray us! Let us remember the words He spoke from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.” [Luke 23:34]
When writing about the Annunciation of our Lord, I came upon some articles by women who take offense at the story of Jesus’ conception. Interpreting Mary’s response as involuntary, they picture the angel Gabriel’s visit to Mary as some weird sort of supernatural rape. This is inconsistent both with Scripture and God as we know Him. The Archangel didn’t say, “Surprise, you’re pregnant!” and leave nor did he physically impregnate her. Read the words as reported by Luke; Gabriel told Mary what would happen, not what had already occurred. It was only after Mary asked how the angel’s words would be fulfilled and Gabriel explained that the Holy Spirit would make it possible that she accepted God’s invitation to motherhood. It was then that the miraculous power of God—the “Most High”—came upon her.
When I put my mug under the hot water tap, I saw the stain. Fresh out of the dishwasher, the mug was clean on the outside but had a dark tea stain inside. As I applied some elbow grease and Bon Ami, I thought of Jesus’ criticism of the Pharisees. Like my mug, their exterior looked spotless but their interior was soiled. Unlike my tea-stained mug, however, it would take more than scouring powder to correct their problem. Rather than stained by tea tannins, the Pharisees were tainted by a host of sins starting with hypocrisy and moving right through to pride, judgment, self-righteousness, and more.
“Alleluia” (or “Hallelujah”), like “Amen,” is a word familiar throughout Christendom. Meaning “Praise the Lord,” it is the transliteration of the Hebrew hallel, meaning to shine, be boastful, praise, or rejoice and Yah, an abbreviated form of the name of the Lord: YHWH (Yahweh/Jehovah). Although two distinct words, they were consistently written as one (halleluyah). In the Old Testament, this extraordinary word occurs only in Psalms. Usually found at the beginning, halleluyah was an imperative call to praise or boast in the Lord—a call to shine a light upon Him! Whether we spell this beautiful word the Latin way as “alleluia” or the Greek way as “hallelujah,” the meaning is the same. Many modern translations simply translate it as “Praise the Lord!”
As I pondered my goals for this year’s Lenten practice, I remembered Alica Britt Chole’s suggestion to “consider Lent as less of a project and more of a sojourn.” While we often encounter the word ”sojourn” in Scripture, it’s not a word typically used today. Although the basic meaning of gûr, the Hebrew word translated at sojourn, is to “live, settle, dwell,” gûr usually included the sense of it being a temporary or transient stay. Typically, a sojourner was someone living outside their clan or a noncitizen in a strange place. Because of famine, Israel sojourned in Egypt for 430 years and, because of their disobedience, they sojourned forty years in the desert before entering the Promised Land. It is Jesus’ 40-day sojourn in the wilderness before entering His public ministry that is remembered in Lent.
Devotions of the Heart 