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 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.
We tend to think of fasting during Lent as abstaining from certain foods, drinks, or activities. Several years ago, however, I was asked, “What if you fasted regret? What if your friends fasted comparison? What would be the fruit of fasting stinginess?” Those questions proposed an entirely different kind of fast than refraining from sweets or social media. In truth, fasting from things like self-righteousness, discontent, and criticism is probably harder (and more meaningful) than giving up energy drinks or dining out.
In a cartoon drawn by Paul Noth, an enormous political billboard overlooks a pasture inhabited by a flock of sheep. Looking up at the picture of a grinning wolf in coat and tie saying, “I am going to eat you!” one sheep tells another, “He tells it like it is.” Would that all politicians were so forthright!
A certain amount of discontent seems to be built into us, which isn’t all bad since discontent can be the incentive to make improvements. Dissatisfaction with the harpsichord’s inability to vary the intensity of its sound led Bartolomeo Cristofori to invent the piano around 1708. Benjamin Franklin’s annoyance at having to switch between two pairs of glasses led to his invention of bifocals and it probably was his discontent with a cold house that led to his invention of the metal-lined Franklin stove. The invention of the “ballbarrow,” with its rust-proof plastic bin and ball-shaped wheel that won’t sink into soft soil, is the result of James Dyson’s discontent with the traditional wheelbarrow. As Thomas Edison said, “Discontent is the first necessity of progress.”
Many years ago, my two boys were playing at their grandparents’ house. While Grandpa worked in the garden, the brothers climbed up into the apple tree and started to throw apples at him. A patient man, their grandfather told them to stop and, when more apples came whizzing at him, he offered a sterner warning. After briefly stopping their barrage, the rascals were unable to resist the temptation and chucked more apples at Grandpa. To their surprise, this gentle and loving man turned around, picked up some apples, and returned fire. Having played ball as a boy, Gramps had a strong throwing arm and excellent aim. He didn’t pull any punches as he pitched those apples back at his grandsons. The boys, unable to maneuver easily in the tree, quickly learned the meaning of “as easy as shooting fish in a rain barrel.” When they called, “Stop, Grandpa, it hurts!” he replied, “Yes, I know it does, but you needed to learn that!” It wasn’t until those hard apples hit their bodies that the youngsters understood how much their disobedience hurt their grandfather (both physically and emotionally).
Devotions of the Heart 