New Thoughts (01/05/12-01/10/12)
While the basic premise of these verses can be discerned easily enough, to correlate all that is said is a greater challenge. Much of the difficulty in doing so lies in our distance from the event, and from the cultural setting in which this event occurred. We have accounts in a language not our own, written by a people with knowledge and customs not our own, writing to people who shared common knowledge and were familiar with their customs as we are not. All of this puts us in the position of needing to work a bit harder both to eliminate our own cultural suppositions and to reconstruct those of the author and his original audience.
Here, it proves absolutely essential to understand the divine origins of Scripture. One who does not start with the a few basic premises firmly established will quickly arrive at mistaken impressions and understanding. He is no more likely to arrive at a correct perception of the message of Scripture than that one who attempts to comprehend advanced algebra without establishing fundamentals like the identity theorem is likely to arrive at a solid understanding of his subject. For our part, we must surely begin from the stance that all Scripture, being God-breathed, is not only eminently useful for our development, but is also fundamentally and incontrovertibly True. Second, we must recognize that Scripture, being True, cannot possibly contradict itself. If there is the appearance of contradiction, we must hold these fundamentals in view and seek to understand where our own perceptions are off. For, from these two basic concepts, it must be recognized that where contradiction is found, it is our own understanding that is errant, not the Scriptures we are reading.
A third matter that we should be mindful of, particularly as we read the testimony of these four distinct witnesses to the Christ, is that the divine Author of Scripture was not dictating to a secretarial pool. He was inspiring individuals to record the things to be revealed and explained. By this inspiration, He did not override the neural networks of His chosen authors, merely provided them with the source material, leaving it to their own natural talents and natural mannerisms as to how they would relay that material to their contemporaries. For, I sincerely doubt any of these men, certainly not the authors of the Gospels, had any thought for how long their words would be the stuff of such close study! They were not out to make themselves a name, to establish their place in history. They were interested only in the name of Christ, the Son of God, and making known Who He Is.
All of this serves to suggest the tone my own explorations on this passage are to take for the most part. For, there is much here that seems, if not contradictory, at least perplexing. That is particularly true (and likely to continue so throughout this final part of the Gospel record) where John’s account is concerned. There is a reason, after all, why three of the Gospels are spoken of as the Synoptics, but the fourth is not. Three are relatively easy to correlate. They cover mostly the same material, and their consistency in that material is sufficient to satisfy our concerns as to accuracy. But, then comes John, who seems determined to cover mostly the stuff that nobody else did. He is more focused on the Jerusalem or Judean phase of ministry than the others. He seems to find the three Passover visits of much greater interest than the others did. And, as we come to the events of that final Passover, his timetable seems askew from what the others have indicated. We saw this already in that the other three make clear that this dinner we are observing was the Passover feast, whereas John seems to imply that the Passover was still a day or two away.
Here, it may be that the single biggest point of confusion for us is that Jesus so clearly identifies Judas as His betrayer, but then we are told that nobody there could figure it out. We look at that statement, “He who dipped his hand with Me in the bowl is the one who will betray Me,” and that seems like a pretty clear statement, one likely to have marked out the culprit sufficiently for all to recognize His meaning. Worse, yet, we find John’s account, where He speaks of the significance of that sop He is passing before He actually passes it. “The one I give this to; that’s the betrayer.” And still, John notes that nobody at the table could figure what Jesus meant when He told Judas to get on with it. They were still thinking in terms of routine. He must be going for supplies, or making an offering or something. Look, Jesus just fingered this guy as an enemy of the tribe, and they can’t think past maybe he’s going out for groceries? Clearly, whatever we may think so obvious from this scene, they did not. This should be a clue to us that we are not seeing the scene right.
Start with that statement we have from Matthew’s account. “He who dipped…” First, we’ll need to recognize that this translation is a bit paraphrastic in how it relays the Greek. The NET provides something more nearly literal: “The one who has dipped…”. Looking beneath the English, one discovers that indeed, the definite article is there. It is not some pronoun that we could take as ‘he’. I’m not clear that Greek even has the concept of pronoun. It tends to be part of the verb’s syntax more than a separate word. But, here we have ho embapsas: the dipper. The presence of that article suggests to our linguistic faculties that Jesus is being pretty precise in this statement, that His words identify a single individual upon whom our suspicion should settle. Yet, it’s clear that the disciples did not find it thus.
Digging into Greek usage rather than assuming English usage will help us in this case. According to Thayer’s, the article can be used as applying to the entire class of like entities, and that may hold whether said entities are spoken of in the plural or the singular. The dipper, then, need not be taken as indicating one individual if more than one individual is found to match the description.
This leads us to our second problem. As we contemplate these thirteen men sitting at dinner, we are most inclined to view that scene as resembling our own family gatherings. We might conceive of it as somewhat akin to Thanksgiving dinners we have attended. The problem is only exacerbated by that most famous painting of Da Vinci’s, which was already projecting certain cultural transformations into the scene. We see something much nearer our own experience: A long table, people spread out and sitting in chairs, serving bowls set out at intervals. I think of our own Thanksgiving dinners with the folks, and there’s generally at least two serving bowls present for each item served. Why? Because, there’s no chance of everybody there reaching the one. Indeed, even in smaller settings, we don’t generally think of everybody at the table serving themselves from a single, stationary bowl. No, we pass the bowl around the table, so that each can reach it with ease.
None of this, however, has anything to do with the dinner that the Evangelists are telling us about. We must remove the chairs from our scene, for when the authors say that they were reclining at table, that’s exactly what they meant; not seated, but laid out, head near table feet away, leaning upon their left elbow as they ate with their right. Next, we’ll have to dispose of the cutlery. There was none. All food was finger food. Now, we must hinge our table in a few spots, because it was not the long board around which they were arrayed, but rather a horseshoe arrangement, with the thirteen participants arrayed around the outside of this three-sided affair, servers bringing food in from the open fourth side, and setting it at some central spot. This leads us to the last thing that must be erased and redrawn in our mental picture. It is most likely that there was only one bowl, and that set within reach of all.
This business of dipping hand in the bowl is nothing more or less than the standard activity of eating. It’s about as unique and surprising an event as you lifting fork to mouth. The act, in this setting, is utterly banal. Combine this with the single serving bowl, into which it was perfectly customary for everybody to be dunking their bread, and what Jesus has said here begins to signify very little beyond that statement we have in Luke’s account: Somebody at table with Me. The phrasing may differ rather greatly, but the significance does not. The matter of dipping in the same bowl with Jesus does not limit the field of suspects in any way. The list continues to be “one of the twelve.” Looking at Mark’s version of events, that phrase should be taken as a parallel to the second clause, which is again ho embaptomenos. The one does not refine the other’s scope, but rather amplifies the original point.
That’s well and good for the coverage provided by the Synoptic Gospels, but what about John’s account? Here, the matter is far more specific, and far more personal. Jesus speaks of the dipping of bread in reply to John’s question as to who He meant in the first place. (And allow me to just accept or assume that the disciple whom Jesus loved, as he is referred to so often in this account, is indeed John.) John asks, Jesus answers. But, notice the distinction here: In this case, Jesus is identifying by His own actions, not by those of the betrayer. “I will dip and give to him.” This is, then, a distinct statement apart from what the other three have written down. There’s a reason for that, and that reason requires that we again consider just how much this dinner differs from our customs.
It has already been noted that Jesus and the twelve would have been on cushions or couches, rather than chairs, truly reclining at table, feet out and face in. The table, once again, was not a single, straight expanse, but rather a horseshoe arrangement, with these men arraying themselves around the outer perimeter. To expand on the picture just a bit, custom assigned a certain protocol to the assignment of place around the table. Of the three couches usually present, one was deemed the top; a hierarchy was established, and this top couch was reserved to the host and to the attendees most to be honored. We see this custom playing into Jesus’ parables about humility. When you come in, don’t seek that most honored seat, lest somebody more important comes later, and you are forced to relocate to a less esteemed position. Rather, let the host choose to honor you by calling for you to come to the more esteemed position.
Whether Jesus perceived the seating arrangements as reflecting any such ranking of the twelve in His perspective is subject to debate. But, it’s likely the twelve would have viewed it in this light anyway. With that in mind, there is one further aspect to the seating arrangements that ought to be observed. As with the couches, so also with those upon the couch. Most typically, there would be three to a couch, but with thirteen attendees, either the number of couches or the number of men on each must have varied from the typical. Supposing three upon that top or head couch, custom would arrange these with an eye both to primacy and to friendships. In other words, friends would tend to recline next to one another, leaving them in position to share private comments one with the other.
Carry that information into the scene that has been painted for us. Most clearly reflecting these arrangements is that matter of John leaning back against Jesus’ breast to ask Him who He meant would betray Him. That he was in position to do this tells us where he was reclining relative to Jesus: what we might consider the right-hand side. We might also sense that this arrangement, presumably made at Jesus’ behest, gave rise to John’s perspective of himself as being that disciple whom Jesus loved. To his mind, at the least, having been selected for this seat meant a lot. It meant precisely that Jesus had favored him above all the others. One further point we should take away from this is that what John heard in reply to his question was something John heard and John alone. When he goes on to say that nobody reclining at table knew what Jesus meant by His words to Judas, I see no cause to suppose John intends to include himself among the clueless. But, if he were the only one to hear Jesus indicating the act by which He would identify the betrayer to John, the others would have no cause to read anything into that dip and pass of the bread than that Jesus was sharing with a friend.
Now, here we find another suggestion as to the seating arrangements, which is that Judas would seem to have been on Jesus’ other side. This is not required by the passing of that sop, for it seems likely that most if not all of the disciples would have been in range to do such a thing. However, there’s that detail that Matthew provides, that when Judas joined in the chorus of “Is it me?” Jesus answered him with the equivalent of, “You said it.” If Judas were not immediately next to Jesus, where Jesus could lean back and reply in a relatively private fashion, then all would have heard this comment, and again there would be no reasonable grounds for them to remain at a loss as to which was the betrayer in their number. That Matthew records this point might also suggest that he was on the other side of Judas. So, perhaps we must discount him from that seemingly all inclusive statement of John’s, too.
One final detail we might pick up on in this picture is that Peter was apparently not upon the head couch. Notice that when he prods John to ask Jesus who He means, he does so by nodding motions of the head. That John provides us with a verbal request on Peter’s lips should not be taken as suggesting that Peter actually spoke aloud in conjunction with this gesture. More likely, John means to do no more than to explain the reason for that prodding.
Something struck me about this action on Peter’s part. Why did he silently urge John to speak to Jesus rather than speaking out himself? This seems utterly out of character for him. Peter has always been the man of bluster, and will be so again as we see things unfold. Yet on this one occasion, he’s thoroughly subdued, unwilling to speak to Jesus directly. Isn’t that odd? I see a few things in the setting we have here that might suggest what’s going on with him. First, as I just noted, he wasn’t given one of the more honorable seats. It’s pretty clear that Peter felt himself the leader of this group of disciples in many ways. Whenever there’s been a general question put to them by Jesus, we find Peter giving answer on behalf of everybody. He knows he’s special to Jesus, because he’s one of three that have been there on those most amazing occasions, just Peter, James and John. Yet, who’s on the couch with Jesus? Well, John is there, and we suspect Judas and maybe Matthew. As to James, that’s of no great concern to Peter, is it? But, Peter is rather conspicuously absent from that couch.
Along these lines, notice the thing that immediately follows in Luke’s accounting: “There arose also a dispute as to which of them was the greatest” (Lk 22:24). Oh, dear! Having cast their aspersions one upon the other as to which of them could possibly be so low as to turn on Jesus, the next logical step is of course to begin boasting of one’s credentials. Why, I have done this and that. I was there when. Were you? I didn’t think so. I cast out this many, how many have you managed? And on and on. Accusations such as Jesus had just made were not doing much for the cordiality of the twelve on this occasion, although Jesus would swiftly move to restore harmony, once Judas was on his way.
Then, too, there was that business when Jesus was washing the disciples’ feet. Peter had been his usual, blustery self at that point, and had been rebuked by the Master twice on that occasion. First, when he thought to honor Jesus by refusing to accept Him as a base slave, Jesus had informed him that to refuse this act was to lose his inheritance, his place in the ministry (Jn 13:8). Thus corrected, he had overcompensated and called for a full bath. Once again Jesus corrected him. “Peter, you’re completely missing the point here. You don’t need baptism all over again. You’re already clean. But, you need this” (Jn 3:9-10).
Peter was pretty clearly an emotional guy, passionate let us say. However gently Jesus delivered these corrections, they stung. It was embarrassing. Here he was, leader of the pack, and he’d been put in his place twice now with the meal not even started. Add this to his lesser place at the table, and one might get the sense that he’s more than just chagrined. He’s feeling a bit like he’s been downgraded. Oh, but this explains a lot! This explains that jealousy we find displayed in Peter’s subsequent dealings with John, at least through the point of Jesus’ resurrection, when everything else pretty much faded to insignificance.
He sees John at the head of the table and himself down the side. Fine. He’s not leader any more, apparently, looks like it’s John’s role now. Well, then, nudge him to do his job. Ask Him, man! It’s clearly not mine to do anymore! It may well be that it was this same unaddressed hurt that left Peter so open to his own temptations later, as he denied knowing Jesus. That unimaginable act becomes a bit more imaginable when we consider that he thought himself demoted at this dinner. Yeah. I thought I knew Him, but apparently not. Jesus? Never knew the man.
This may also play into the reason Jesus selected these two men, Peter and John, to go together and make the preparations for this Paschal meal. He knew. He knew Peter was going to be feeling slighted. He knew, clearly, that Peter would blow it in a major way as things unfolded. Of course, He also knew what Peter would become, how much he would achieve in the spread of the covenant promises outward from Jerusalem. He knew Peter wasn’t a loss, but would pass through a very rough patch. And, He knew that Peter and John were going to need each other more than ever as time progressed. John may be given certain unique responsibilities and insights, but so would Peter. And, most marvelous of marvels, we find as the book of Acts unfolds that not only has Peter been restored to God’s good graces, he’s back as a clear leader of the Church. But, that’s small potatoes. The big story is that he and John are nearly inseparable in those early days. Everywhere you look, it’s Peter and John. They’re off to temple together. They’re praying together. They’re ministering together. Whatever jealousies arose at this last meal together with Jesus, they’ve been dealt with in most thorough fashion. Here is beautifully illustrated the ministry of the Holy Spirit amongst God’s people.
[01/08/12] Shifting focus, I cannot but take note of the fact that Matthew and Mark present us with a different timeline of this meal than does Luke. John only covers one of the two events I have in mind here, but may still serve to resolve the discrepancy. To the point, Matthew and Mark indicate that the establishing of the new covenant occurred after this indication of betrayal, whereas Luke tells us that the covenant cup was passed beforehand. Clearly, one or the other has the sequence of events reversed. Why would this matter? Well, the thing that comes to mind is the question of whether or not Judas drank of that cup of the covenant. Recall Paul’s comment on the covenant memorial we have as our communion. “Whoever eats of this bread or drinks of this cup of the Lord in unworthy manner is guilty of His body and blood” (1Co 11:27). If, then, Judas partook of the original establishment of this new covenant, how much greater his guilt!
While this implication is not stated outright by Matthew or Mark, it may well explain their arrangement of the details. Here, it should be noted that none of these authors is primarily setting out to record a history, far less a chronology. That said, Luke might be expected to come nearer to an accurate chronology, given his stated purpose of setting forth everything “in consecutive order” (Lk 1:3). Even there, however, we must bear in mind that the orderly sense of the Greek historian of that era differs rather greatly from our own. This is to say that none of these writers can or need be considered as presenting everything precisely as it happened, like newspaper reporters covering some major event. This does nothing to diminish their accuracy, but it must needs temper our understanding of what they have written.
Well then: did Judas partake or not? My inclination is to say he did not, at least based on what we can reconstruct of this situation. This can hardly be deemed conclusive, but let me lay it out as I see it. First, we are observing a Passover meal, according to the direct statement of Jesus and according to the general corroboration of Matthew and Mark. Second, John’s coverage here would indicate that everybody was still eating. Why else would Jesus’ dipping that morsel and passing it to Judas be so benign an act in the view of the apostles? John goes on to say that Judas left immediately. Now, we might find some bit of corroboration in Matthew’s account at this point, for he has Judas and Jesus discussing his identity as the betrayer just before he transitions to covering the covenant aspect of things. But, there is indeed a transition: “And while they were eating” (Mt 26:26). Mark likewise notes that the meal continued after this encounter. Nobody but John takes note of Judas’ departure, but that also means that there is no contradictory evidence as to when he left. We have no reason to suppose that his departure was at any other point than as indicated: immediately following this discussion of betrayal.
As to why Luke would have reversed the sequence, and left Judas having taken the cup along with the others, I cannot say. I would note that he, not being Jewish, may not have been so fully aware of the significance that would attach to the act. On the other hand, he was Paul’s companion, and Paul stressed the issue of propriety in taking communion, as we have seen. So, perhaps Luke intended to convey the greater depth of Judas’ guilt by exacerbating his crimes somewhat. Not only had he put on every show of friendship with the One he was about to betray (and we’ll see that same bald-faced audacity later), but he had even taken upon himself the binding terms of covenant, knowing full well that he had absolutely no intention of abiding by those terms! Why, the cad! It may also be that Luke just wasn’t certain of the order here and set things forth as best he could.
I return to my view that Matthew and Mark are the more correct here, even though my outline has followed Luke. In short, I do not believe that Judas was there to take the bread and the cup. Let me add one more little scrap of evidence here. And this may help us in resolving John’s timetable with that of the other three. The last detail that John gives us in his account of this discussion is that Judas left immediately after taking that morsel Jesus had given him, “and it was night.” Now, this is rather interesting, and it has caused a certain amount of consternation amongst those trying to correlate John’s version of the story with the others. Why, if it was night, then wasn’t Judas violating the Law in regard to the Passover? See, it couldn’t have been a Passover meal that John is describing!
Well, there’s more than one problem with that argument, but for the moment, I’ll note this: If the cup of the covenant marked, as I suspect it did, the fourth cup of the Paschal meal, then Judas’ departure might be supposed to have come prior to the completion of the meal, perhaps even before the start. Combining all the accounts, I think the most we could reasonably suppose is mid-meal. They have been eating, after all. The point that is raised is that there was originally that stricture about remaining in the house throughout the night having observed the Paschal feast. Well, first we must note that this rule had necessarily been relaxed over time. After all, just like Jesus and the twelve, a vast number of those observing the feast were doing so in somebody’s guest room. These rooms were not intended for overnight stays. They were more or less dining rooms, near as I can see it. So, at the minimum, these people would have need to return to their own accommodations. Recall the article noting that a fairly extensive tent city would arise outside Jerusalem on this occasion. There was more reason to Jesus and His group staying out in the garden of Gethsemene than just a desire for privacy.
One final note on this: The NET offers the possibility that John intended to convey more than just a sense of time with this comment. They would have us find a bit of moral judgment in, “and it was night.” To quote from their notes on this matter, “Judas had become one of those who walked by night and stumbled, because the light was not in him.” This in turn refers to John 11:10, but I’ll begin back at verse 9. “Are there not twelve hours in the day? If one walks in the day, he doesn’t stumble. He sees the light of this world. But if anyone walks in the night, he stumbles, because the light is not in him.” OK. Jesus is discussing their return to Jerusalem, and to the matter of Lazarus’ death at that point. I’ll not go back into that scene in detail, only note that sense of foreshadowing that the NET is seeking to apply here. That is not unreasonable, given that John has often placed comments in his Gospel that foreshadow what lies ahead.
Whether we should read such a depth of significance into the comment on this occasion is somewhat questionable. It is rather odd as a transitional comment taking us into the next part of the account, I’ll admit. So, perhaps we should take it in that sense of marking the condition not only of Judas’ soul, but of the world in general. Truly, as these events were set in motion, it ushered in a period of profound darkness on the entire region, on the entire world. As we see the depths to which those involved would sink, Jew and Gentile alike, to bring about the destruction of the Son of God, we get a sense of just how darkened their minds had become. Given John’s particular conception of the Light as being the Life, and the very expression of God’s own Thought, we might well read into the noted darkness a particularly dreadful condition. Truly, all wisdom was cut off. Even the other eleven would fall away, Peter spectacularly so. God Himself would die the cruelest death, although it would ultimately result in the abolition of death rather than of God. Even the very heavens would participate in that profound darkness, as the sun would refuse to shine on the aftermath of that most heinous of crimes. If the nations had sat in darkness up to this time, yet it would prove absolutely true that it was darkest just before the dawn.
I’ve already touched on the matter of the suspicions that arose in the disciples, and the pride that welled up right alongside. It suits me, thought, to consider that rather more fully and more personally now. First, recognize that this betrayal issue has been building. John actually introduces the matter by a comment Jesus had made just prior to the verses currently in view. “I know the ones I have chosen, but in order that Scripture be fulfilled, ‘one who eats My bread has lifted his heel against Me’” (Jn 13:18). That is, no matter how often I’ve encountered it before, a most shocking statement. I chose you with the full knowledge that you would betray me. That’s the message as far as Judas is concerned. It’s still My plan, My Father’s plan. Your actions, vile as they are, have done nothing to change that. And then we arrive at the comment that Matthew and Mark highlight: “But, woe to him through whom the Son is betrayed!” Yes, Judas, what you have done is as much by My choice as by yours, but this does not alleviate the guilt of your choice, for you chose as you willed. That it serves My will changes nothing.
Here, for all that I hold to the doctrine of perseverance of the saints, I cannot but recognize a severe warning. Do I count myself amongst the chosen? Absolutely! Yet, Judas could do the same, and chosen to a far more select group. He was one of only twelve whom Jesus had seen fit to name as His apostles. Indeed, add in Paul, and you have a group that never exceeded a grand total of thirteen. And Judas was one of them. He was chosen by the Son of God. He was personally tutored by the Son of God for those three years, just as Peter, James and John. And yet, he could find it in himself to not just walk away from that ministry, but to reject it with shocking vehemence. Listen! If he could do this, I dare not suppose myself incapable. We can blame it on Satan, as is our wont. We can try and point the finger of blame at something – ANYTHING – outside ourselves. But, the facts won’t change for all our effort. If, indeed, we find ourselves betraying our Lord and Savior, the blame cannot fall anywhere else but upon ourselves. The real Supreme Court, in which the Christ presides, shall not find the case otherwise.
This is one of those points upon which the Scriptures maintain a precarious balance. Yes, we have every reason to believe that what God begins He assuredly finishes. We have every cause for the confidence that having been called, we shall indeed persevere and we shall indeed arrive one day in heaven, safe and perfected in Christ. At the same time, we have every assurance that we dare not allow assurance to become presumption. We have comments from so illustrious a source as Paul, concerned lest he find himself disqualified from eternity after all his efforts. Working on behalf of the kingdom is not in itself sufficient. Working, in general, is not sufficient. Yet, failing to work at this matter of sanctification is out of the question.
I must recognize this, as well: To be counted amongst the elect is not some guaranteed protection from Satan’s assaults. In truth, it’s more like an open invitation to those assaults. We ought to expect it. We ought to be, perhaps, the more concerned if we are not experiencing such things, for it would appear to indicate that we are no threat to that usurper. This is a sad statement, and scary. Yet, it is Truth. Even with such a one as Judas, I must look not with scornful derision, but with deepest concern that, ‘there, but for the grace of God, go I.’ There is nothing in this man that would make me incapable of deeds equally despicable. The urge to self preservation is strong, and one never knows to what depths he might go to satisfy that urge.
This leads me to considering the others around that table. As the Message offers it, Luke comments that, ‘they immediately became suspicious of each other’ (Lk 22:23). Here, again, my gut reaction is, how could they? These guys have been together so long now. They’ve been through some truly amazing, truly terrifying things together. Yet, here is the One they trust above all else saying that one of them was ready to do Him in. The questions of, “You don’t mean me, do You?” are one part of the reaction. I would have expected maybe a more full throated rejection of the idea. “What are You thinking, Master? All of us here have seen You in action. We’ve watched you quell storms by a word. We’ve helped You as You fed innumerable families with the barest of scraps. We’ve witnessed You casting out demons and healing diseases beyond the ken of man to treat. We’ve even been there as You raised friend Lazarus from the grave when he was already three days cold. And You think one of us could turn on You?”
It should have been unthinkable. And yet, nobody seems to have found it so. It was only unthinkable that it could be me. Any of the others, yeah, I could see that. But, me? No way, Lord. Indeed, we’ll hear Peter saying words to that effect shortly (Mt 26:33). Here’s the thing. We who have the benefit of history and hindsight look at this scene and find it even more unbelievable than they did. Honestly, if we did not have that benefit, if we were reading these accounts, and had John not so heavily foreshadowed Judas’ treachery, it would take us utterly by surprise. It’s not possible! These men have heard Truth, have recognized how utterly superior are the teachings of Jesus. As I said, they’ve witnessed what He can do. They’ve watched His life day and night for three years and found no least chink in His piety. He is what He teaches. He teaches what He is, what He does. There is just no way that one of these guys could be convinced to work with the Pharisees who were opposing Him. And yet, that’s exactly what happened.
Now, then: We mustn’t, we daren’t think we are beyond any capacity to betray Jesus. Indeed, as we watch things unfold later in the garden we shall see that to a man, the disciples fall away. Not one among them proves willing to stand with Jesus when all is said and done. And this, too, is something Jesus knew full well. He told them it would be this way, and in spite of that warning, in spite of knowing Who Jesus Is, they still walked right into the fulfillment of those sad warnings. Again: If this could happen to those apostles, to those who had walked with Jesus these last three years live and in person, who am I to suppose myself better fit to stand?
There comes a point where, if we will but be honest with ourselves, we would have to confess that we betray Jesus with alarming frequency. Oh, but my thoughts don’t wish to travel down that avenue! Who could willingly face that fact? But, it’s truth. We may not be, as Judas was, actively seeking to aid those who would destroy the King. Of that much, I am certain I am not guilty. Not any more. There was a time, I confess, that I would have to account myself guilty, if not of seeking His murder, then at least of seeking to achieve a certain character assassination; of depriving Him of His rightful honor as King of all kings, and Lord of all lords. Oh, yes. Those days when I was willing to accept the possible validity of pretty much any spirit that was not Him; those days when I so proudly sought to display my atheist badge, sought to demonstrate just how thoroughly I could flaunt His rules; these were acts of deepest treachery against my proper Liege Lord.
But, take it to more current affairs. How much has changed? As much as I long to look at the failures of the apostles on this occasion as things I would never do, as much as I wish to think betrayal of the Christ a thing I could never even contemplate, let alone act upon, the fact remains that I do so more often than I’d care to admit. Honestly: every time I willingly break with His commandments, what is that but a betrayal of the Throne? Every time I fail to love a fellow believer not just in word but in active, supporting deed, what is that but a slap in the face of my Lord? Every moment that I spend mapping out how I shall circumvent this rule, how I shall bend that rule, and avoid detection, what is that but the worst case of scheming with the enemy? Oh, yes! Betrayals abound, sad to say.
Indeed, it’s time we moved beyond the considerations that, “It could have been me,” to the recognition that it has been me. I’m not just capable of these things. I have done them. Or, at the very least I have done things equally detestable in the sight of God. I cannot pretend to innocence.
You know, Lord, I’m not certain that I’ve ever really come before Your throne seeking to put things right as concerns those older days, those days when I was looking for any other thing I could assign place upon Your throne. I don’t recall having done so. And yet, You have seen fit to allow me to come before You anyway. Indeed, You moved in such incredible fashion to draw me to Yourself in spite of it all. Lord! How I spit in Your face, and yet You did not cast me down, but rather drew me nearer. And to this day, I’ve never thought to ask that You would forgive me for such audacious insult. I ask now. I pray that You would forgive me for my insolence. I know You have long since, but still, it’s important to me just now to set this before You. Yes, You know how fully I sought to thumb my nose at You. And I know, in some small part, how You intervened to preserve me from my own stupidity. And still You pursued me as I ran. Thank You!
Now, Lord, I look upon who I am at this juncture, and I know I have so much that yet needs to be addressed, so much that is still not only happy to go on sinning, but practically determined to do so. But, I don’t want it any more. I know myself in that place that Paul found himself in, the spirit wanting only to be pure in Your sight, and the flesh wanting nothing to do with it. Oh, Lord! Had You not moved upon me as You did, drawing me in, demonstrating to me the absolute reality of Your being, I should be hopeless. I suppose I could say that I would be oblivious, and be more accurate in that. But, the Truth would be that I would be hopeless. Yet, You have given me to know that I am not beyond redemption. Indeed, I am numbered amongst the redeemed.
I find in myself, though, a sad propensity to take that for granted. You’ve saved me, and in that my assurance is founded. Indeed, I know no fear of failure, for it is You at work in me. It is in Your infallible hands. And yet, I know concern. For, I recognize a complacency in myself that ought not to be. I recognize a willingness to presume upon Your grace to cover my particular sins. This is foolishness of the highest order (or the lowest order, I suppose). Lord, forgive me. Indeed, do not stop there, but change me. Find me willing to the work. Find me committed to the work, that I might be more pleasing in Your eyes. Oh, I know that perfection will come in time, or after time. But in the meanwhile, I would that my progress were better than it is. And I can only suppose that You would prefer likewise. Come, then, my Lord, my God, and let Your will be done in me.
We cannot avoid our responsibility for our own actions. We were created as moral agents, making decisions according to our own preferences and opinions. Having made the decisions, opted for our choices, we retain responsibility for the outcome of those choices and decisions. It is one of the greatest of mysteries in Christianity that while this is clearly the truth of our situation, it is also quite clear that God is absolutely sovereign in His rule over all of Creation and over each of its constituent parts. In other words, though we make our choices by our own volition, there is also a certain inevitability to the whole thing. Judas chose freely, and did so based upon his own thinking. This is, perhaps, the aspect of things that we really need to recognize: God did not inject the thought of betrayal into Judas’ thoughts. Arguably, we ought to accept that neither did Satan. When Satan entered the man, the man had already determined his course. He had put out the mental welcome mat for that evil one to come alongside and urge him on. The choice, and therefore the moral responsibility remain his alone. There can be no defense of, “The devil made me do it.” He did no such thing. You did it because it was your desire to do so. Stand up and take responsibility for yourself.
Likewise with Pharaoh, when God speaks of hardening his heart, we ought not to take that as God acting in a coercive or corrupting manner upon one of His creatures. The most we might be able to say on that account is that He refrained from acting to counter Pharaoh’s own natural tendencies, leaving him to sink that much further into his personal darkness. This is a fair depiction of that picture painted so often in the New Testament: God either causes His face to shine upon us, intervening in our lives to our great benefit, or He turns His back upon us, leaving us to our own dark devices.
This juxtaposition of the inevitability of God’s will being done and the moral responsibility attending to those through whose actions that will is accomplished is made clear in what Jesus says here. “The Son of Man is to go, is going, just as it is written of Him, as it has been determined.” That combines the thrust of Matthew 26:24a with Luke 22:22a. Both continue by saying, “But woe to that man by whom He is betrayed! It would have been good for him had he never been born.” Let me focus first upon the sovereignty aspect. The BBE translates Luke’s words thus: “It will be done to the Son of man after the purpose of God.” That is, in reality, the most fundamental fact in this entire account of the final week. As horrifying as these events are, as amazed as we may be at how many laws were completely subverted in order to bring about what comes, as many men as must needs have been in on the conspiracy as it were, the fact of the matter is that all was done after the purpose of God.
He is sovereign. If there is any statement that can be made with certainty, particularly as regards things yet future, it is because what is stated is His purpose. Only God is in the position to make such prognostications without having to hedge. Only God is of sufficient authority that when He says, “Thus it shall be,” it shall most assuredly be thus. There can be no shifting of what He has decreed. Prayer is powerful to accomplish much, but this it shall never do. It shall never move God to abandon His own decrees. There is a reason why even the Son finds it fitting to condition His prayers with by leaving the final word to God. “Nevertheless, Thy will be done.”
If we would but recognize that all our own innate thoughts and desires share more in common with Pharaoh than with Jesus, we would perhaps be more inclined to distrust our prayers enough to follow the example of Jesus as we pray. There’s a reason why, when He taught His disciples how to pray, He stressed God’s sovereignty at the outset. “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” It’s a personal reminder, if we think about what we pray, that we are in no position to dictate to God. And believe me, we all have that tendency if we are not careful of ourselves. We may do so covertly, covering our intentions with more appropriate phrases, but the reality remains what it is. We come to God demanding when we are in no position to demand anything of Him Who has already given all for us!
Bet, let me come back to the message here. In spite of the inevitability of events, yet Jesus says, “Woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed.” Stop there. Understand that this is the formula of a curse. On the lips of Jesus, I think it must be heard as coming forth with a powerful overlay of compassion. The curse is not pronounced with malevolent glee. It is pronounced as a sad certainty. It is by way of saying, “Don’t think that because your deeds are accounted for in God’s irrevocable purpose, your guilt in the matter is any the less.” No! The full terms of the covenant come down upon the breaker of covenant.
Let me just say this, although I am pretty sure I’ve touched on it already. What either follows or preceded, depending on the timeline one follows, is assuredly a covenant ceremony. Jesus makes that explicit. “This is the cup of the new covenant.” That covenant ceremony necessarily invokes the same solemnities that attached to that far earlier covenant between God and Abraham. There, the severity of penalties for withdrawal from the covenant terms were most graphically on display in the severed bodies of the sacrificed animals. “Thus may you do to me if I fail of these terms.” At this stage, though I am inclined to believe that Judas departed before the new covenant was sealed by bread and wine, that this action we see in the passing of that bread sop to him has at least the echoes of covenant to it. At the very least, as was pointed out in one of the articles I’ve been through recently, that sop was a mark of friendship, and the acceptance of it by Judas was in that fashion an acknowledgement of said friendship. If I have parsed the seating arrangements correctly, then the fact of Judas reclining next to Jesus was another mark of friendship. I should add that this is not the sort of casual friendship we might have with certain of our coworkers. It’s not mere acquaintance. This is more along the lines of a David & Jonathon friendship. Thinking along that line, I am put in mind that those men had something of a covenantal tie with each other as well, one strong enough that David was inclined to continue honoring its terms even after Jonathon’s death.
What I am driving towards here is that Judas, by his act of betrayal, was breaking covenant with God, and more particularly with God’s Son. It is fitting, then, that the Son should remind him of that covenant by remarking the woe attendant upon its breach. And can I also offer this thought? Of course I can! Even at this late stage, Judas could have chosen to change course. Here he is, exposed and forewarned of the consequences. The hand of fellowship is extended to him. He could have accepted that mark of friendship in earnest, come clean to his prior dealings and sought forgiveness of Jesus. He could have been restored. But, he chose instead to go ahead with his own plans. There is a reason why John notes the more complete entry of Satan into the man as he accepts the sop from Jesus. Right up to that point, things could have run out differently. Had there been that potential in Judas to reject the planned betrayal, even though he’d taken it thus far, be assured God’s planning would have accounted for that, gladly enjoyed the restoration of this prodigal, and found other means of effecting His purpose. Indeed, those other means would have been just as firmly in place as was the final outcome. There again we see the tension between God’s sovereignty and our liberty.
One other thing hits me, as concerns this woe that Jesus pronounces. Focus on this phrase: “It would have been good for that man”. Would it be fair of me to emphasize the limiting clause, ‘for that man’? It would not have been good for anybody else. As terrible as the coming events were, as indescribably painful as they would prove to Jesus personally, they constituted the good. It was good that He would go as had been written, because apart from His going there could be no hope of redemption for any man. There could be no reconciling of God and man except the God-man follow through on His mission to perfect completeness. This would not be to the good of every man. Judas would certainly have no benefit from it. Thus, the woe pronounced upon him. Pilate? Herod? Caiaphas? Most unlikely that any of these men came to a change of heart. The bulk of Jerusalem’s population? No. They had most thoroughly rejected their Savior as well.
But, all went according to plan. It is true as we see Judas go out into the night. It is true later when we witness the final act of betrayal. By Jesus’ own words we have it. “I tell you, what is happening right now is happening in order to fulfill what the Scriptures of the prophets declared” (Mt 26:56). What the prophets declared was the word of God, else they were no prophets, and would most assuredly not be counted in the canon of Scripture, certainly not by the Author of Scripture. What they spoke, therefore, could not but unfold as it is written. Therein lies the particular power of that phrase, “It is written.” It is written and it cannot be erased or amended.
This same powerful sense of God’s sovereignty is there in the first messages of the Church to the nation that had rejected Jesus. Peter, in his first sermon says, “That He was delivered up was by the predetermined plan of God, wholly foreknown by Him. So, you nailed Him to the cross by the service of godless men and you put Him to death” (Ac 2:23). So firmly does Peter stress God’s absolute control over these events that he actually says Jesus was delivered up “by the predetermined plan and foreknowledge of God.” He is not leaving an room for doubt as to whether God was hoodwinked or blindsided by events. Nope. Though accomplished by godless men, God was not a manless god! He was no vain idol such as the Romans favored. He was no vain and empty object of belief such as the traditions that the temple held in so great an esteem. He, unlike all these others, unlike those small men through whom He acted, was fully aware and fully able to determine not only what would happen, but by whose actions it would come about.
This has actually been on display throughout the final week. It has been on display primarily in the actions of His Son. Those debates in the temple, the confrontation of clearing out the court of the Gentiles – again; these were deliberate actions, goading the godless to act, and to act on God’s timetable. Likewise this exposure of Judas, making certain Judas knew that Jesus knew. That final, “Go and get it over with”, was not just permission to move ahead with his plans. It was the final nudge. Do it now, because these things must be completed tonight. The prophets require it. God requires it.
Somewhat later, but not by much, we find Peter and John defending themselves before that same Sanhedrin that had condemned their Lord. But, they are not quaking in their sandals. No. They speak with a boldness that might well have had the Sanhedrin quaking in theirs! Just look at that opening statement of theirs. “Whether it is right in the sight of God to give heed to you rather than to God, you be the judge” (Ac 4:19). That is a shot across the bow for these men if ever there was one! But, it doesn’t stop there, for they did not acknowledge the warning that they had long since exceeded their authority.
When, therefore, these two continue (for we are not told which of them spoke), we hear this: “Right here in this city they gathered together against Jesus, Your most holy servant. You anointed Him, and yet Herod, Pilate, and the whole body of the Gentiles and Jews alike, You caused to do just as Your hand and Your purpose had predestined to occur” (Ac 4:27-28). This has become prayer, clearly. It is not spoken to these men with their petty authority, but rather to God Himself, the final Authority. They speak to God reminding Him, as it were, just who is in this room. In reality, they know quite well that God doesn’t need reminding. That recognition is there in the words they speak. But, those in the room would do well to be reminded.
They had acted against His servant, His anointed Representative. And yet, they had the audacity to claim to represent Him! For all their posturing and railing against the Gentiles, what had happened? They had joined with the Gentiles to oppose God. They had even turned to them and recruited them to their own evil purposes. Pilate, purely Roman in his background; Herod, near enough to Jewish to have more clarity; the Sanhedrin – Sadducees and Pharisees and even Herodians acting together of all things! – each claiming to represent the very God they acted to destroy: None of them was without guilt in this matter. All of them had betrayed the very ethical bounds they claimed to observe, such as they were. Every one of them had betrayed not only the Son of God, but themselves.
But back up to the more important part, here: God had remained True. All of this treachery and betrayal, all of this abolition of every binding law and tradition to accommodate the evil moment, had happened how? By His predestined choosing. What these men did, they did in order to accomplish, “whatever Thy hand and Thy purpose predestined to occur.” They were used! They were, to use a currently popular terminology, pwned! Totally. They had acted in full accord with their true natures, the natures they tried to hide behind the trappings of their petty little powers of office. But, Power had dictated. He ever dictates the course and the outcome. In that sense, we are indeed all but actors on the stage, and the script we are given is His. But, we choose our roles as we do, and the lines we speak are nothing we need to practice, for they are ever words that roll naturally off our tongues. It’s as if He has transcribed our very personalities into this play! Of course, that is how it is, isn’t it? He Who made us knows us, and knows us more perfectly than we know ourselves. Is it any wonder, then, that His perfect plan has perfectly accounted for our own imperfections? It ought not to be. But, so prideful are we that we still tend to think that we are in control. We still insist that we are in control, even as we nod at messages to the contrary.
Just last Sunday, we were given a second message on the matter of boasting. In this case, the issue before us was that of treating our own plans as binding, the tendency to speak with certainty of what we shall do and when and to whom, when in reality our every least action is contingent upon God’s will. If God wills, we shall do as we have supposed. Apart from His will, we ought really to remain absolutely certain, we shall do nothing. And yet, I doubt not that every one of us walked out of that room and within the hour had spoken once more with certainty of some activity that lay ahead in our thinking.
Truly, we need to become more firmly aware of our subservience to God. If there is certainty, it is only by His word, by His decree. If we would count ourselves His children, we have really no option but to consult with Him as to His decree and His desire as concerns our activities. It’s not just the big stuff. It’s not just the mission trips or the next big program at church. It’s not even just church. It’s everything. Jobs, relationships, meals, which road to take to work, everything.
There is a phrase that recurs in Scripture, particularly in the Old Testament: “In your hands”. We have the children’s song, “He has the whole world in His hands”. And the sense we get from that childhood memory is that this is an image of security for us. Yes, He’s holding my hand. I’m safe. But, it’s interesting that if one looks at that phrase as it is generally used, it has more to do with being in His power. I was looking for another thought to close out this study, but the concordance keeps feeding me these sorts of passages instead. There are those whom Joshua had conquered saying, “Behold, we are in your hands; do as seems good and right in your sight to us” (Jos 9:25). There’s Jeremiah speaking to those who sought his harm, “Behold, I am in your hands. Do with me as is good and right in your sight” (Jer 26:14). There are other occasions.
Now, I realize these particular examples are spoken as regards earthly matters, earthly conflicts. There are matters of man and man. But, how well they reflect how we ought properly to view ourselves when it comes to God. What a marvelous prayer it would be from our lips! Behold, Lord God. I am in Your hands. Do with me as is good and right in Your sight.
Yes, Lord, let it be so! I, a child of the covenant, a child adopted into Your own household, do confess this most marvelous of truths. I am in Your hands. I am fully and completely subjected to Your power, to Your will and desire. How very fortunate I am! For You only do what is good and right. What is good and right in Your sight bears none of the vagaries common to man, common to me. There is no question of the goodness and rightness of Your determinations. So, thank You indeed, that I am truly subjected to Your perfectly good and right will. Grant me the weakness of ego to seek out that good and perfect will before I act, before I speak. And thank You all the more for the certain knowledge that when I fail to do so, and stumble and fall as I inevitably must, yet You are there to pick me up, dust me off, and gently correct me once more. Who, indeed, is like unto my God? There is no one.
