Maundy Thursday: Humble Trepidation or False Confidence?
Today is Maundy Thursday, a day that
commemorates all the events that happened the day before Jesus was crucified.
And a lot happened that day: Jesus washed his disciples feet, Jesus taught
about the need to be servants and to love one another, Jesus led the disciples
in celebrating the last supper together, Jesus prayed in the Garden of
Gethsemane, Jesus was arrested through the betrayal of Judas, Jesus was
interrogated by the high priest, and Peter denied Jesus three times; all of
this happened on Thursday before morning of the next day when Jesus was brought
before Pontius Pilate of Rome.
So there are a lot of different
events that one could focus on today. But I want to begin by focusing on the
betrayal of Jesus that happened this day. And he was betrayed in diverse and
varied ways. First, he was betrayed by the religious officials of Israel and
Jerusalem. He was arrested on the behest of the chief priests and Pharisees.
And we’re so used to this part of the story that I think sometimes it begins to
lose its shock value. But imagine that God came down to live on earth. Wouldn’t
you expect that the people most eager and ready to welcome him would be God’s
chosen people: the Israelites, and especially their religious leaders? Yes, we
might expect the Pharaohs and the Caesars of this world to reject him, but
these religious leaders whose entire livelihood and occupation are supposedly
meant to be built around worshipping God, following his laws, and learning more
about the divine, that is shocking that they reject God.
Think of the shock nowadays when we
see some of our more famous religious leaders outed for sinful, predatory
lifestyles, the shock of hearing of the people whom we trusted and looked up to
being not who we thought they were, names like Bill Hybels or Ravi Zacharias. The
shock of these stories is so great that they almost always go viral. This is
the shock we should feel when Jesus is betrayed by the very people most meant
to support him: the Israelite religious leaders.
Jesus gives his disciples a rather
scary prediction on Maundy Thursday in John 16:2. He said, “The hour is coming
when those who kill you will think that by doing so they are offering worship
to God.” What great irony that the chief priests and Pharisees are about to
kill God thinking they are acting on behalf of God. They charge Jesus with
blasphemy because he claims to be God; that would be a blasphemous claim
indeed, except he really was God. And they bring in witnesses testifying to how
Jesus said, “I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three
days I will build another, not made with hands.” You can see why the priests
might want to zealously defend the temple: this is the place they encounter
God’s presence! Think how happy you'd be if someone threatened to tear down your church. But they failed to see that the temple as a means of accessing
God’s presence, though useful for a time, was now obsolete. What use was the
temple when God in the flesh was right there in front of them? What use would
the temple be for accessing God’s presence when the Holy Spirit was about to be
sent into our hearts?
But here’s the key thing to note: it
was religious motivations that led these religious officials to oppose Jesus,
and that fact should give us great pause today. It should lead us to act with
humility and trepidation lest our own religious zealotry might be misguided,
and our most holy of intentions are twisted by the devil to serve the most
nefarious ends. There’s a famous latin phrase: Corruptio optima pessima. It
means the corruption of the best is the worst. Religion can be one of the best
and most beautiful and holy things in all the world, which means that when
corrupted it can become one of the most harmful and destructive forces in the
world. All you have to do is open a history book to see how this all too often
becomes the case. On Maundy Thursday we are reminded that you must beware if
you find that your religious zeal is leading you more towards garnering hatred
than love. A good test of our religion is whether it lives into Jesus’ Maundy
Thursday command to love one another as he loved us.
Secondly, Jesus was betrayed by his
friends, his closest confidants, his disciples. Judas, a disciple who was with
Jesus for years, had apparently been following Jesus for less than genuine
motives. He would steal from the money bag that was meant for donations to the
poor, and he sold Jesus out for 30 pieces of silver. The story of Judas warns
us about the great temptation that money can be, how money is the root of all
kinds of evil. It’s amazing the type of wicked things people will line up to do
if it will make them an extra buck. And do note that there are many legal ways
to exploit people for money, but just because it is legal does not mean it is
ethical or just. Judas earned his silver legally from the chief priests.
Judas’ story reminds us again that
there are many who follow Jesus for less than genuine motives. In most churches
today you can find people who are not there for the right reason. Some are
there to perhaps simply appear more righteous than they are by being able to
say they are a churchgoer. Some come as wolves in sheep’s clothing to trick and
devour the true sheep. Jesus warns us that within his church weeds always grow
alongside the good wheat. May Judas’ life serve as a warning to us that we must
examine again our motives for following after Jesus: are they pure? Judas’ life
shows us that it is not enough to be a member of a church, it is not enough to
be among the disciples of Jesus, one must be truly and sincerely living out the
ways of Jesus. If not, the end of our life may be no happier than the end of
Judas’: his life ended with remorse and despair, for it is no small thing on
one’s conscience to betray someone good and righteous. Judas heard every sermon
Jesus preached. But it is one thing to hear, another thing to do and act.
But Jesus was not just betrayed by
Judas, by disciples who were following him with ill intentions. No, even those
who followed him with the best intentions let him down. But they didn’t think
they would! It is quite interesting to see how the gospel accounts sandwich
close together the contrasting ways in which Jesus and his disciples reacted to
the prospect of soon having to die for their faith. It contrasts the extreme
confidence of the disciples with Jesus’ wary, trembling spirit. Peter and the
disciples were certain they’d follow Jesus even unto death. They were certain
they wouldn’t deny him. Yet when Jesus faced the specter of death, the
knowledge that he may have to become a martyr, he didn’t think it’d be a piece
of cake. He prayed in agony, he sweat like drops of blood; he was grieved and
deeply agitated. He had to devote hours to prayer to steel his nerves for the
task ahead. And he only went forward to his death once he was fully certain
that God needed it to be thus, that there was no other way in which the trial
could have been avoided. Jesus prayed, “if possible, remove this cup from me,
but not my will but your will be done.” In the end, Jesus’ humble fear resulted
in him following through with his great sacrifice, but the disciple’s prideful
confidence quickly resulted in their failure. We see that they could not even
stay awake with Jesus a few hours as he prayed, let alone were they really
ready to risk imprisonment or death. Peter would deny Jesus 3 times before that
very night was over.
Think of it this way: who would you
bet your money on to complete a marathon race set to take place a few months
from now? The person who says, "Oh, that’s easy, that’ll be a piece
of cake."? Or the person who says, "That is probably going to be one
of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, but if I prepare myself, if I work
hard, I just maybe will be able to do it."? I would bet on the one who
approaches the task with trepidation. The one who is full of false confidence
will not properly prepare, they won’t train, and when they find on race day
that the task is harder than they anticipated that it would be, which it will
be, they will quickly falter. But the one who is uncertain of their strength
will be out there training every day for months to prepare for the task ahead
and may find they are able to accomplish what once seemed impossible.
Perhaps
we should thus approach the great callings of our faith with humility and
trepidation. Perhaps we should not have the false confidence of Peter and the
disciples, but the fear and trembling of Jesus. Perhaps we must soak our lives
in prayer if we are to be at all prepared for the lives of sacrifice and
service that God is calling us to. God’s commands are possible… but not easy.
The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. If we know the difficulty of the
call, then we will work all the harder to prepare ourselves to live it out and
accomplish the goal set before us. The prideful will say I don’t need to go to
church, I’ve got it figured out, all I’ve got to do is love others. The humble
will say, oh my gosh, it is really, really hard to love other people well. It
is far easier to selfishly prioritize myself than to serve others. I need to be
in church every week, out training again and again the same way as if I was
prepping for a marathon, I need to do that if I have any hope at all of being
successful in the task of loving other people to the high standard, the high
measure of loving in the same way Christ loved me.
Well we’ve seen now in three ways
how Maundy Thursday was a day of great betrayal. It was a betrayal less by
those we would expect to be enemies of God, but betrayal more so by those who
should’ve been Jesus’ friends: the disciples and the religious leaders. These
betrayals have reminded us that we must be wary of even our best religious
motives, for like the chief priests our religious motives can be twisted
towards evil, like Judas we might have evil motivations that we are simply
hiding behind a nice religious façade, and like Peter we may noble, high
aspirations yet find ourselves falling far short of our lofty goals.
But what was Jesus up to on this day
of great betrayal? We might expect one facing such major betrayals to be
plotting revenge or speaking condemnation. But that’s not what we find Jesus
doing. On Maundy Thursday we find Jesus setting up a table for the last supper,
preparing to serve those who would betray him, to feed those who would let him
down; Jesus was there giving a communion meal showing that he was breaking his
body like bread for sinners like them, shedding his blood like wine for sinners
like them. This is the love of Christ we are called to emulate, love even for
enemies and sinners.
When I think of the great love shown
during the last supper meal I think on the image of many a middle school or
high school cafeteria. Have you ever been a kid in the cafeteria where kids
wouldn’t let you sit with them at their table so you had to find another place
to sit? Or maybe they let you sit, but then they just ignored you or bullied
you, they didn’t make you feel a part of the group. Or have you ever felt so unwelcomed
and shy that you just went and sat all by yourself, assuming that no one would
want to sit with you? But half hoping that someone kind might come join you or
invite you over to sit with them.
I think of the communion meal in
light of this all too common image of a child who is lonely, who doesn’t fit in.
And I think of Jesus being the one who says you are always welcome at my table.
I think of Jesus saying I want you here: you are my precious child, you belong.
And I think of the church as the group in which Jesus then places us, giving us
numerous friends, and he instructs to each person in the church, this child
here, love him, make him one of your own. The ragtag group of disciples we see
at Jesus’ last supper from betrayers to deniers, from tax collectors to zealots,
it shows us that there is room at Jesus’ table for everyone, whether you’re a sinner
or a prodigal, whether you’re uncool or awkward, there is room for you. Jesus lets
any come who want to partake of his grace.
Maundy
Thursday was a day of great betrayal. And when we’re betrayed, we build up
bigger walls out of fear and anger. But Jesus spent his last days not building
bigger walls but building bigger tables, spreading wide his love, getting ready
to die even for those who would let him down, to save and forgive those who
would kill him. May we love as Christ loved us. In the name of the Father, and
of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Comments
Post a Comment