New Thoughts (11/10/10-11/14/10)
The primary focus of these verses is upon Judas, as he begins to pursue the purpose to which he was born. Yes, that is something of a shocking way of thinking about him, but I’ll come back to that shortly. Before I look at him, though, I want to consider those other actors in this drama, the chief priests. They, too, we might say, are pursuing the purpose to which they were born.
Is this sentiment too near to a conception of fate as inevitable? Perhaps it is, yet in a realm created and ruled by a sovereign God Almighty, All Knowing and Invincible, is it really that far off from the truth? I want to explore that further as regards Judas, but the same things I explore there will have applied to these men as well. But, there is this which only increases their sin: They knew. Judas could maybe, just maybe, have pleaded some degree of ignorance. The chief priests, though, make clear by their deliberations and their scheming that they are fully aware of the illegality of their actions and of the innocence of this One they are determined to crush. They have, it would seem, wholly abandoned any pretense to piety as they have become used to the political machinations which became the norm under Roman domination.
In the last section, we saw their response to the undeniable evidence of Lazarus walking the streets of Bethany after having been in the grave so long. This, on top of so many other reports of what Jesus had done, would already be sufficient to condemn them for their agenda. But, I look forward in the timeline just a bit to that point when Judas realizes his own criminal failures and tries to return the pay he had received for his deceit. This, of course, would do nothing to absolve him of his crimes, but it was something at least. If nothing else, it offers the suggestion that he had been blinded to what he was doing, and now he was seeing it for what it was.
But, look at the reaction of these same chief priests when he comes. Oh, that money’s tarnished. We could never allow it in the temple treasury, as it has been payment for innocent blood. Look, they knew that when they paid Judas! They knew without the least shadow of doubt that Jesus was wholly innocent of any wrong doing. But, they didn’t care. They were determined to find a way to take this Man down. Contrary to their public deliberations on the matter, proclaiming fear of some riot He might incite, they were fearful for one thing and one thing only: that their prestige and power would be diminished by His rise, if not wholly obliterated. They didn’t care about the people over which that yad charge. They had care for themselves, and themselves alone.
This thought, I see, is drifting in from this morning’s Table Talk. I am in mind of the passage from Ezekiel 34:11-24, wherein God decries the self-seeking ways of those shepherds who had charge of Israel at the time, and declared an end to their office, proclaiming that He would bring a True Shepherd to the rescue of the poor abused sheep. We know, of course, that Jesus came as the fulfillment of that promise, He being the True and Good Shepherd. But, in the meantime, here was another batch of shepherds clearly after the old order: shepherds fattening themselves on the substance of those they were supposed to be protecting, shepherds more dangerous to the sheep than wolves. For wolves, at least, would be seen as a natural enemy by the sheep, but the shepherds? Were they not the very objects of a sheep’s trust?
These shepherds, it is exceedingly clear, had no concern for the sheep. Indeed, the nature of their connivances show that not only did the lack concern, they despised the sheep and feared them. That’s visible in the details of their scheme with Judas. Yes, we want Him betrayed into our power, but not in a public setting, please. We need something secluded, where the crowds won’t have a chance to get worked up over the injustice of our actions. That’s the ticket! And this character trait goes unchanged thereafter. Even with Jesus dead and risen once more, they have not learned. As the apostles set about their work in Jerusalem, spreading word of Salvation through Jesus the Christ of God, what happens? These same men have the apostles dragged before their council and threaten them. Then, released, the apostles are found to be back preaching in the courts of the temple. So, what is the reaction? They send out the guard to arrest them – but quietly, inconspicuously (Ac 5:26). The crowds, you know. We don’t want them getting worked up over this. That would greatly displease our lords.
This is the distinguishing feature that sets these priests off even from Judas. They knew what they were doing and they knew Who they were doing it to. These men who wore the clothes of servants in God’s house did not serve God. They served Rome because by serving Rome they served themselves. Their motivation was no greater than, “What’s in it for me?” That was it. The only motive was self-motive. The only god was gain.
As further evidence of their motivation, consider the point that Luke makes here. They wanted Jesus betrayed, yes indeed. But, they wanted Him betrayed away from the crowds, with little fuss. This same behavior would play out again as the true faith took hold in Jerusalem. As we know, they lost on this gambit of theirs, and God won. Hardly surprising, that, but it’s something of which they apparently needed to be reminded. Yet, the obvious victory of God over their machinations didn’t save them. They continued on their course, as determined as ever to quash this faith which threatened their livelihoods. They determined to move against the apostles, but gently, lest they create further heroes by their persecutions. They hauled them in, warned them severely not to continue preaching this Jesus resurrected business, and let them go; only to find them back in the temple next day, preaching that very message! What to do? Send the guards, but, guards: gently. Don’t stir up trouble out there. The crowds are on edge, and might well riot if you are too rough about this. Luke sums it up simply. “They feared the crowds” (Ac 5:26).
In truth, they feared everybody. They feared Rome. They feared each other. They feared Jesus. They feared the apostles. They knew just how precarious their purchase on power was, and it made them fearful. I am put in mind of that quote from Matthew Henry (if memory serves), to the effect that we either fear God or we live in fear of everybody else.
In pursuing this line of thought, I am not really interested in further tarnishing the record of these false shepherds. God took care of that long ago, and really doesn’t need my help there. I am more interested in what this might have to say to my own condition. Not that I have any desire or intent of trying to betray my Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ of God, but I could wonder if I often do so in spite of myself. My point is this. I find in myself a great desire to serve this God I love, to be (as other threads of study are discussing at present) a light in this world. But, there is also this countervailing desire to do so in rather stealthy fashion. I want to be a witness, but I’m not keen to be a martyr. I want others to come to know Him, but I don’t want to be rejected by them when they don’t. What is this, really, but that same fear of the crowds? What is this but placing my power and prestige above that of my Lord? Who am I really serving?
I would love to think I am not alone in this. I know that any believer who remains employed faces certain societal pressures that would tend towards making one cautious. Many companies have firm rules about proselytizing on their dime or on their property. As to the matter of their dime, that is actually a very reasonable matter and one that ought not to offend the believer. Indeed, it really ought not to need explaining to the believer. How are we light to these employers if we are robbing from them in the name of our God? How are we robbing them, you ask? In so much as we are accepting pay while not doing the job for which we are hired, it is theft. They will assuredly see it that way, and in all truth, we should as well. We are instructed to give a good day’s work for our day’s pay, and there is no exemption clause there for working in the employ of an unbeliever. If anything, it becomes the more critical that we heed our instructions in that case.
That said, though, there are ways one could speak of this God of ours without such thievery. There are break times. There are lunch hours. There are occasions to get together outside of work. All of these, present opportunities. Which ones we can avail ourselves of whilst heeding our command to live at peace with all men, insofar is it lies with us, will depend on other company policies, but regardless of policy, they cannot control outside of work gatherings. Neither their property nor their time are involved, and they have no say over discussions held in that setting. But, to avail ourselves of such opportunities, we must be willing to befriend those still in darkness. We must be capable of fulfilling our call to be light to them without necessarily rubbing their noses in it. If we are all about offending and embarrassing those who do not live by godly standards, how shall we ever bring them to a place of wanting to hear about what exactly it is that makes us different?
Let me take the example of ribaldry and coarse language. This is something that is absolutely rampant in our society today. We can claim it as the fallout of women’s liberation, or just the general decline of civilization, but men by and large will speak like the worst of sailors with no care as to who might be present. Women? Children? Who cares! It’s my right to swear. It’s my right to discuss the finer aspects of anatomy. If you’re offended by it, you don’t have to listen. Of course, in the workplace that defense doesn’t hold up so very well. We are often as good as required to listen because the nature of the facility is such that to not hear is impossible.
The question I have for us, for myself, is how best can a Christian react to such an environment? Is it constructive to rebuke those who do these things, if they have no Christian faith in themselves? Is this even what we are called to do? I have my doubts about that (or is it my fears)? It strikes me that if we are forever demanding that these cretins hold their tongues lest they offend us, how likely are they to find any message of Good News we might offer interesting? If we were to suggest to them getting together after work – oh, but not at the bar! I could never! – how interested do we suppose they will be in joining us? We have done so much to make the thought unpalatable that I doubt we could break through our own history at that point.
Others might advise that when such coarseness is in the air that we simply walk away. OK. There are occasions where that is no doubt right and proper. There are more occasions where it is not within the realm of possibility. Again, as a dweller in the cubicle farm, there are those who, to avoid their language and coarseness, would require departing the building entirely. They are loud as well as coarse, and however hard one might try, to not hear them is simply not possible. To ignore them, perhaps, but to not hear them? No. What to do? Shall we follow the crowd of victims and file grievances against them? Shall we declare ourselves victims of an inhospitable workplace? Seek to have them fired for their inability to be civil? After all, isn’t this what other minority groups do? Women are able to bring such suits against men with minimal provocation. So, too, those who perceive some sort of racial slight in somebody’s conversation. It needn’t be real or intentional. If there is the perception, that is enough to go on, and a life can be destroyed by the fallout. Is that really a game for Christians to be playing? Hey! We’re a minority, too! We have a right not to be offended! No, not really. Be at peace with all men, insomuch as it lies with you.
Again, there are going to be occasions where walking away really is the correct response. This is particularly so for those who find in themselves a certain weakness that wants to respond in kind. It may be the response of anger. It may be the response of wanting to fit in. The motivating force is not the point, it’s the inclination that we know we must fight against. In such battles, it is often our best recourse to flee the field. Remove yourself from temptations and they are far less of an issue.
On the other hand, what if we cannot remove ourselves? What then? I would like to suggest that one’s role in that situation is to refuse personal participation. However coarse the company, refuse to join in the coarseness. Refuse to find humor in such joking. Refuse to lower yourself to their level. This need not, I think, take the form of the disapproving church lady caricature so familiar to us. I could be wrong, but again: If a primary goal of being light is to attract those still in darkness to come out, I’m not sure a sucking-on-a-lemon face of disdain and disapproval is going to be particularly attractive. On the other hand, being exposed to somebody who simply refuses to speak in such terms, to laugh at such jokes… You know, there is that smile that says, “I recognize that you’re attempting humor here, but it’s really not that funny. I appreciate your attempt to keep things light, but not so much the form.” It’s not an outright rebuke, but is it light? Does it leave open the door to an occasion where the Gospel can come in? Or, again, is this just fear of the crowds spreading cloud cover over the light?
[11/12/10] As I take up this study again today, I just want to note a certain confluence of theme emerging. In large part, I am inclined to recognize the hand of my Lord and King in this, being merciful to me as I pick up the task of teaching. As it turns out, the first assignment covers the opening portion of Ephesians 5, where Paul is developing the theme of living as light. At the same time, Table Talk has just picked up the theme of God and Light as it is developed throughout the Old Testament.
God, You do indeed have perfect timing, and You are forever so very far ahead of us in Your planning. It’s not ‘as if’ You knew. You knew. You knew and You scheduled the events of men that I might taste Your mercy in so providing me with background for this task. Dare I go so far as to take this as something of a confirmation of that commissioning I received at men’s retreat, as I closed out my time with my old church in order to come to this new family of Yours?
While I’m thinking of this transition, Father, I want to thank You for the many confirming and welcoming encounters You have arranged, particularly for my dear wife, who is somewhat less comfortable with the transition than I. I thank You, as well, for her courage and her joy, even as she deals with the difficulty of this move. You have blessed me with a very brave woman, and I must surely give You thanks for that. But, Lord, if You could see fit to grant me the wisdom to know how to minister to her and guide her through the change without causing hurt. You know the discussion we had last Tuesday night, and You know that this exposed a difference between us. Whether it is merely a difference of style, or whether it is truly a matter that needs correcting, You know. Me? I’m not so sure. If this is just me being embarrassed, then enough! Grant me to be pleased with her as You are pleased with her. If this is a place where I need to take my role as spiritual head of this household more seriously, then, make this plain as well. I am not interested in enforcing my tastes and preferences, but I am concerned; concerned for Your proper reverence, and concerned for her emotional safety. So, teach me Father, how I should respond to this in Your name.
As to the assignment: Lord, thank You for the help in preparation! Thank You for laying these things before my sight. Forgive me that for all that, I am still nervous, still striving, still looking to my own power to get the preparations done. You’d think I might know better by now, but there it is. Therefore, I very consciously put my trust back in You, where it belongs, knowing that You will prepare me as You see fit. For my part, I will but seek to do as I may to make Your task that little bit easier, to be serious about the task and to be open to Your input, nay, Your direction, that what I teach may be no more and no less than what You would have taught. Yes, and may I take that lesson seriously for myself, as well!
This brings me round to something I wanted to note here: that as this matter has been on my mind in study, I see that it is causing me to reassess my behaviors in the workplace. What am I participating in, and what avoiding? What am I doing (or not doing), and is that right? It’s not about becoming neurotic, so caught up in analysis that no action is possible any longer. It’s really about evaluating habits. It’s about really considering what I’m doing, and whether this is pleasing to the One I serve. This, after all, is the problem with habit. Habit is habit because we no longer think about it. It’s not a considered action. It’s almost self-energizing. The call is to consider, to take stock, to be intentional about what we do, what we say, and what we reject.
Part of living intentionally is considering our motivation. This is true particularly of that part of living which is most directly involved with faith. Let me say that I am not suggesting or supposing that any portion of our life ought to be uninvolved with faith. But, there are those things we do that are done, from our perspective at least, for God, and there are those things that are done because that’s life. Work is indeed as holy a calling as anything we do in the house of God, but we don’t really tend to see it that way in our day to day. Let me rephrase my point, if I can, to avoid that issue: When we are doing whatever it may be that we are doing with a conscious sense of doing it for God, or for godly reasons, motivation becomes very important. Can I really say it’s more important than when we are not consciously acting for righteousness’ sake? Yes, I think I can. At the same time, the more intentional we become in how and why we function for righteousness’ sake, the more often we shall find we are thus functioning. The more aware we are of living for God, the more of life we shall realize we are living for Him, until our understanding matches our reality, and we reach the point that all of life is Him.
What is our motivation? Why do we seek to be better? Its it that we feel some sort of benefit will come to us if we do so, some material gain? Is it for fear of reprisal? I mean, that would certainly motivate, wouldn’t it? Fear is a powerful motivation! As parents, we may count on that to some degree. I would just as soon that my child has a certain fear of displeasing mom and dad. It’s an incentive! So long as that fear is not fear of abuse, but simply the fear of finding disapproval in our eyes. Is it a sense of duty? You know, God requires this of me, so I’d better do my best to meet His requirements.
Look: We all know full well that the only pure motivation that suits is the motivation of a deep, overflowing love of God. We do it because we love Him, else our doing is in vain. Of course, we also know that all our works, even the best of them, are as filthy rags in His sight. We can never do enough, never quite get it right. For my part, I see a connection here. We cannot do enough, because we cannot get that pure motivation straight. There is always a twinge of fear involved, of recognition that this sovereign God, All-Powerful and All-Knowing cannot abide so much as the suggestion of sin in His presence, and in me there is more than the suggestion! There is that twinge of fear because we know what we deserve, and sometimes that looms larger in our thinking than our knowledge of His forgiveness. It’s too unbelievable, that price He paid! We know it, and yet we don’t always accept it as our reality.
Likewise, there is a tincture of duty in even the best of our actions. Why, for instance, are we at church every Sunday? Yes, there is the earnest desire to draw closer to Him. There is also the duty of abiding by His instructions, that He says we ought not to forsake this opportunity of grace. Why am I here every morning, seeking to absorb His Word more fully, seeking to find the strength to apply what I am finding? Is it just habit? No, not just. Addiction would probably come closer to it. After so many years of this, I feel rather disoriented when I must shift my schedule, even if I am setting aside these studies because of some other activity with the body of Christ (which, I think, has been the only thing that has interrupted my course). Something’s not right in the world when this happens. Something’s lacking, and I just won’t feel right about my day until this component has been put back into it.
I think that, while we remain in this human condition, we shall have to be satisfied with a certain mixture in our motivations. We will, I suspect, always feel that fear and that sense of duty mixed in with our better lights. But, without love? This must not be! If there is not the least trace of love for God to be found in our activity or in our words, then we can just stop right now. We’re wasting our time and we’re wasting His time.
Now, let me see if I can put myself back on the subject of this passage. Motivation is indeed the connecting thought, for as I consider the things that were driving the chief priests, and the things that drive me, there is also the question of what drove Judas. Why did he do it? How could he?
It’s interesting, in considering the four accounts we have of this decision of his, that each of the Evangelists has a somewhat different sense of how this question is to be answered. Matthew would seem to see money behind the move. In his account, Judas arrives before the priests asking, “How much is it worth to you?” It’s the terrible “What’s in it for me?” motive.
I need to step back into that other stream of thought for just a moment. That terrible “what’s in it for me?” motive: this is one we need to be particularly wary of as we go about our Christian life, as we go about serving Christ. We are called to be servants, not mercenaries. We are not God’s hired guns. We are His property. We have no basis to be asking, “What’s in it for me?” None whatsoever. A slave doesn’t refuse to act unless the master promises some payment, some favor, some trinket in return. No! A slave acts for the simple reason that the master spoke. A good slave acts simply because he knows the master is about to speak, seeks to be there with the requested duty performed so soon as the request has been made.
That may seem a pretty callous view. Where is the slave’s motivation? Well, I dare say that if he is indeed to be counted amongst those good slaves that seek to anticipate the command, there is a certain love for the master. Fear will not make you do that. Fear will lead to grudging action, to doing what one must to avoid the lash, but not one whit more. Duty? No, duty is a warrior’s motive, not a slave’s. Love? Yes, for a good master, there can be love in the slave. There can be this reality that though obedience is a requirement that we cannot evade, it is also a gift that we willingly give, gladly give – give with a sense of gratitude that we have been blessed to serve so fine a Master.
OK. Back to Judas. As I said, Matthew places money at the source. He’s looking for some gain. If I can just flash back to John’s account of that dinner out in Bethany (Jn 12:1-8), John also points to a certain motive of greed on the part of Judas. For all his pious whining about Mary’s waste, it wasn’t the poor he really cared about. It was his own pocket. Why, if that perfume had been sold and the money put in our coffers, there’d be enough in there that nobody would be likely to note my theft for awhile! Filthy lucre! Illicit gain! Terrible motivation, and there can be no doubt that this plays a part.
However, have we arrived at the root? Luke tells us that Satan entered into Judas, and that this moved him to go have audience with the chief priests. Others among the Evangelists note Satan’s clear involvement in what Judas did. Indeed, it’s almost unthinkable that he could have done what he did without that involvement. But, again, have we arrived at the root?
There are a few things that lead me to this question: First, as I look at Mark’s account, there seems a reversal of the act and the motive, at least in comparison to Matthew’s record. Here, the sense seems to be that Judas’ intentions were already set, and the money was just a bonus. This is not a certainty, but there is something about that ordering that leaves me thinking that he would have done the exact same thing even if no reward had been offered. It can be argued that he, thinking as he did and confident that these priests were not so far different from himself, was pretty certain they would pay him for his actions. It can be argued that the temple had already set a price on Jesus’ head, if unspecified. “Reward given for information leading to the arrest of…” We know the story. No, there is no record of such a thing, but given the machinations we see in their camp, it’s hardly unbelievable that they might have done such a thing.
There is also John’s comment, much earlier in the record back when the ministry was still pretty much a Galilean concern (Jn 6:70-71). Even then, you see, Jesus knew there was a traitor among His twelve, a traitor He Himself had chosen. Let’s be very clear about this: Jesus was just as aware of what Judas was and what he would do when He made that choice. Indeed, I think it must be made plain that Jesus chose him precisely because he was the one who would fill the role of betrayer. It’s going to really bother some folks, but the fact of the matter is that Judas was created for this purpose.
You know, there’s that song the CCF dance team loved to do. “I was created to make Your praise glorious!” Lovely sentiment, and true. For those of us created as vessels of honor, it’s a marvelous realization, a reason to stand up and shout, a powerful cause to rejoice and give thanks to this One Who thus created us. Yet, those who, like Judas, are forever outside the camp of Christ, that same statement applies. We cannot rejoice in what Judas was, what he did. Yet, he, too, was created to make God’s praise glorious. It was to this purpose that he was created to betray the Christ of God, because that betrayal was a necessary part of the glorious plan of God.
The larger point here is that God’s wrath and His Justice served are every bit as great a means of glorifying His name as His Love and His Mercy. He is all these things, and He is all these things in perfect harmony with Himself. In Him, each of these aspects are perfect. In Him, Wrath is present, but without diminishing Love. In Him, Justice is present but in no way does this dim His Mercy. It defies my understanding to grasp the full truth of this, but I yet understand that it is True. All these things God Is, and if He were required to cease being any one of them for the briefest moment, He would not be God and that is the one impossibility.
So, we can look at money as the thing that pushed Judas to the dark side, or we can blame the devil. But, it seems to me that both of these explain only in part. I am rather forced to accept that God, while not the cause of these deeds, is at the very least the authorizer of all which prompted Judas to action. He is, after all, every bit as much the creator of Judas as the creator of everything else that was created, even that devil we want to blame. What He created He surely created with a purpose and for a purpose, and that purpose was most assuredly one which serves His own purpose. This is not to say that all mankind are but automatons with no control over their actions or their destinies. Neither does it provide any excuse for our actions, which are nearly always at odds with God’s goodness.
It’s all well and good to argue that Judas did nothing worse than serve the purpose for which he was created, and there is a certain truth to that. Truth, but no absolution. Judas, however much he was created for this moment, did not act from any sense of having no choice. He chose to act. Whatever things may have moved him, it remained his choice. Indeed, he had chosen long before he acted.
It’s like the way in which the Ten Commandments are written, and the way Jesus explained them for us. The written commandment expressed itself in the final extreme of the sin addressed. Jesus points us back to the seeds of that final extreme. Murder is the worst case, but it starts with the belittling word. Adultery is the worst case, but it begins with a look that lingers too long. The betrayal of Jesus was by far and away the worst case, but it had been fermenting in the heart of Judas for some time. That business with Mary and the ointment, that was just another aggravating offense from his perspective. The stuff Jesus said in reaction, though: That was a different matter altogether. What Judas heard in His words was a suicide note. This Messiah they had been following wasn’t for real, after all. He planned to let Himself be killed! What sort of hero was that? Where was the profit in following such a loser?
Well, if there was no profit in remaining with him, then Judas wasn’t going to let these last few years be a total waste. He’d make a bit of profit by bringing Jesus to the end He was apparently seeking. Again: Truth be told, I suspect Judas would tell us that he would have done the same thing even if the priests had failed to pay up. He was a man most thoroughly disillusioned and disappointed by his hero, and this was enough motivation for him to bring that hero down.
Did the devil have a hand in this? Oh, certainly! Given the Scriptural backing for that understanding, how can there be a doubt? I don’t suppose that Judas’ thoughts could have become so fully darkened in the very presence of the Light had not thick blinders been placed over his spiritual vision, and who else would be inclined to set those blinders in place? I am put in mind of a friend’s favored saying with regard to sin. Sin may seem pleasant at the start, but it will always take you farther than you really want to go. As with sin, so with sin’s father. That old serpent, Satan, was able to play Judas like a fine violin. Judas had the inclination, but in the enemy’s hands, that inclination was fanned to such fervor that the unthinkable became the only thought. Judas was so consumed in this blindness, that to not betray Jesus had become the unthinkable.
I think we must surely recognize that he could not have done as he did except he were blinded to the reality of his actions. How many things in our own lives would we say the same about? We may call them the deeds of our youth. We have hopefully outgrown such darkened thought processes. Yet, we still have those moments when we are, as we like to say, blinded by anger, and say things that we’d really ought not to have said. Regrets will come later, and apologies to those we have lashed out at.
Let me try and put this in some semblance of order. Satan in this case is certainly at the root of the action Judas takes. And yet, he is not at the root of the decision. Neither can we lay the blame at God’s feet for that decision, even though He created Judas for this very purpose. No, the decision remains in Judas’ hands, and his alone. As such, the blame likewise remains with him. Again, go back to that early mention of Judas in John’s gospel. “I chose you, and yet one of you is a devil!” Jesus knew what Judas would do, and chose him not in spite of that knowledge but because of that knowledge. It was necessary.
Consider the rest of the account. Describing that dinner scene, John notes that Judas was already intent on betraying Jesus, or this is at least the implication of his words (Jn 12:4). Later, at the Last Supper, he says the devil had already put it in Judas’ heart to betray Jesus (Jn 13:2), which more or less accords with what Luke says here. But, from John’s view, it was only after Jesus identified Judas, revealing He was fully aware of who His betrayer was, that Satan entered into Judas (Jn 13:27). What is the distinction here? I would place it thusly: In that moment, realizing that Jesus knew what he was about to do, and perhaps beginning to suspect He had known for quite some time, Judas might well have wavered in his resolve. This could have been the moment of redemption for him, but Satan could not allow that to happen. It would spoil all his plans. I can’t help but note, here, that it would also have disrupted God’s plans which made the outcome of that moment truly impossible to change. It was not possible that things would not fall out the way they did. But each actor in that scene acted in accord with his own desires, for his own reasons.
Judas, although blinded in deepest darkness by this Satan that then entered in most fully, yet acted of his own accord. Satan, though serving God’s purpose, did so not with any eye toward such an end, but with the express purpose of thwarting God. Each, then, bears his guilt, no matter that the deed was to serve God’s ends. The end does not justify the means. But, one can feel a certain sadness for Judas nonetheless.
What’s truly sad is that those blinders that allowed him to pursue the betrayal of God even in this moment when it could have been different, were removed when the deed was done. Such cruelty there is in our enemy. It is not enough for him that he is able to so easily manipulate us to sin, but he will have us to know the crushing reality of our sinfulness. Judas came to his senses at least to the degree that he realized the enormity of what he had done, and how utterly wrong that action had been. But, this hateful enemy of our souls, he will not willingly remove the blinders so fully that we might see the forgiveness that awaits in the hands of our Savior. He would rather revel in our agony of guilt.
That, I think, is the real sorrow. That there are those who are kept in darkness until they have done the devil’s work, and then given just enough clarity of vision to realize they’ve been used. To be granted that much understanding, and yet refused the knowledge of the saving power of Jesus! What could be more terrible? I think we might see that same horror in the story of Ananias. Think about that last question he heard from Peter. “Why has Satan filled your heart, that you would lie to the Holy Spirit like this” (Ac 5:3)? In that moment, suddenly it became clear to him what he had been doing, how he had been played and by whom. All he thought he was doing was trying to look good. Just trying to fit in, trying to do enough, without getting carried away with the fanaticism these others had going. But, with that question, the Truth burst in on him. And, like Judas, the blinders were pulled back only far enough to see sin as sin. He could not see forgiveness, and that realization killed him on the spot.
This brings me back round to motivation, if by a rather circuitous route. I am pierced through by that question, “What’s in it for me?” This is a current of thought that has been pursued in our men’s study of late. Why am I doing what I do? And, here, I’m really thinking more of the ‘good’ that we do, not the sin. Am I acting out of a sense of duty? Am I acting out of fear? I mean, there is much that we know we should be doing as sons of God, but it doesn’t generally seem to come naturally to us. At least, not without a fair amount of practice. And that only leads to other risks: Am I just doing this out of habit? Or go back to fear? Am I just trying to keep my nose clean so the Judge won’t throw the book at me in the end? That’s back to a “what’s in it for me” motivation.
Listen, I don’t suppose we shall ever be free of those influences in this lifetime. I think that, knowing a holy God is watching over us, even though we understand His great love for us, must lead to a certain degree of fear, and that fear is actually healthy. The fear of the Lord, after all, is the beginning of wisdom (Ps 111:10). We would be fools not to fear the very idea of offending an All-Powerful God. If we ascribe to Him the due title of King, and to ourselves the right office of slave, then there ought to be a certain sense of duty, of obligation to our actions. It is what He wants, and He’s the king. Ergo, I must do. But, there is something greater! If (were it even possible) I were to uphold every least ordinance of His Law, and have not love, it is nothing. Obviously, I am borrowing heavily from 1 Corinthians 13:2 here. What, then, moves me to love? It is knowing His love for me. It is knowing that in spite of the due fear of His Perfect Purity which I cannot seemingly help but offend, in spite of the duty I know I owe Him as a Master Who has paid such great cost for a worthless servant such as myself, there is this: He loves me! He loves me enough to have paid that great cost for me, knowing what I was, what I am. He loves me enough that He is patient with my perpetual failures. He loves me enough that, even though I try and hide my sins from Him (in spite of realizing the impossibility of succeeding), He doesn’t send fire and brimstone upon me, doesn’t even rub my nose in things as we might with a dog. He gently makes me aware that He is aware. He kindly trains me in ways of change, exercising me that I might grow stronger in resisting the urge to displease. He sweetly forgives me, invites me back into fellowship with Himself, and points me toward that day when I will be fully restored to His original intentions for me. In short, He loves me, and I cannot but love Him back.
What’s in it for me? Nothing that I do not already possess in full! Oh! That I may live in that awareness day by day! Oh! That I might serve with that awareness. Indeed, that I might serve only as my ears hear Him command, only as my eyes see Him signaling. Therein lies my best blessedness. To act where He has not commanded is no commendation, any more than I ought to be commended for hanging back where He has said, ‘Go’. To give up everything and beggar myself ‘in the name of Jesus’ is of absolutely no value if He has not commanded me to do so. To leave family and responsibility behind, claiming service to my King has not only devoid of value, but downright evil, except He has truly issued the command. Who could dare to claim His orders for actions which are at odds with His very nature? Oh, I know, there have been times. Abraham clearly understood his orders from God. He also clearly understood that those orders were so completely anathema to God that he was unlikely to be allowed to complete the act. And, even if it were to come to that, he understood that God, to be God, must surely subvert the natural order to see that act undone.
Too much has been done with a claim to holy inspiration and authorization which has been utterly counter to all that is holy. If God has a bad name in our day and age, I have to think we have nobody to blame but ourselves. Such nonsense attributed to Him, when all it really signifies is our insistent self gratification. God told me? Really? Was a time when the man who made such a claim and was found false would breathe his last with the finding. In some ways, I think we suffer for that lack of that seriousness. Would that I, even I, would think of such claims with the seriousness that I would face any other life and death decision. For, it is a life and death decision. If I would claim His authority for my actions or even my words, I had best be very certain!
What’s in it for me? Everything and nothing! I already have it all in Christ. What remains is to do as best I can to walk worthy of what He has already given. Love could do no less. What remains is to be available to this great Lover of my soul. And this I shall do as best I may, as Christ Himself strengthens me. For, I remain mindful that apart from Him, I can do nothing. Nothing! But, as I align myself with Him in His purpose, all things are possible. What a marvelous reality that is, yet humbling! May I live as one mindful of all this Truth.
And Lord, I should be truly remiss were I not to thank You for the way in which You have been blending the several threads of my studies together, that I might indeed be prepared to serve this morning. Truly, You are merciful and marvelous! I thank You, also, for the joy of seeing my beloved wife so accepted, so welcomed in this new family. Oh, God! It restores my spirit to see her so happy, in spite of the newness of it all, in spite of what might seem to her the cramping of that style of expression that she has become used to. Father God, I do not take lightly this role You have set me in as head over this household, but let me not abuse that role to enforce my own tastes. You know that my ways are not her ways, and hers are not mine. But, so long as each of our ways are Yours, it is well. If there is truly a need for correction, then my King, grant me the wisdom, the firmness, the compassion and the courage to address the problem. If it’s really just a matter of personal preferences, then grant me the wisdom and the peace to abide in peace, to promote the unity of Your Spirit and not the fractiousness of mere perception. Again, thank You. So much You are doing in our lives just now, and it beggars my ability to express the wonder of it all. Move, also, my King, upon our daughter, that she might be stirred to restore her relationship with You. Help her to shake off those ties which seek to pull her away, and to establish fresh bonds with those who will draw her closer to her Savior. I know You are able, for You have done it in me. But, in the meantime, my Lord, at the very least, protect her from herself until Your time.
