The Lenten Betrayal

Text: Luke 22:47-53

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

          I’m sure that I’ve told you this before, but Palm Sunday is one of my favorite days in the church year. There’s such anticipation. Waiting and then welcoming Jesus who rides into Jerusalem as a King. Not the King people expected, but a King nonetheless. It’s festive and joyous. The music says it. All Glory, Laud, and Honor. Hosanna, Loud Hosanna. We get to celebrate the King of Kings and His arrival to His rightful place of honor and glory.

But I think my appreciation for Palm Sunday has a distinctly human component to it as well. Palm Sunday was the first worship service Naomi and I ever attended together. I don’t remember much about that service, but I do remember sitting outside in El Paso fiddling with the palm branch I received and out of habit fashioning it into a cross. A habit that I came by through my dad who I distinctly remember having crowds gather around him after each Palm Sunday service asking him to make them a cross. And I think it’s that transformation of the palm branch that really helps me to remember that while today is a day of celebration, it’s also the beginning of the week where the whole account of salvation comes to its climax. The waving palm branches of Sunday so quickly turn into the cross of Calvary.

And the church has recently begun to combine all these things together. It used to be that Palm Sunday was Palm Sunday. And then we’d return on Maundy Thursday to remember the institution of the Lord’s Supper. And back again on Friday to observe the solemn day of our Lord’s death. And then wait in quietness and eager anticipation for the celebration of the resurrection on Easter Sunday. The twists and turns would play out during the week. The rollercoaster of emotions would be drawn out over seven days. But now, whether it’s the realization that many people can’t, or won’t, observe all the important days of Holy Week, or if it’s something else, the church has given the option of today observing either Palm Sunday or The Sunday of the Passion. We’ve decided to do both as we read the account of the triumphal entry at the beginning of the service and then a small portion of the Passion account in the place reserved for the Gospel reading. Although we only read a tiny bit of the full four pages that the Passion takes up in the lectionary book over there.

I’m sure you’ll be back on Thursday and Friday, as well as perhaps Saturday, and definitely next Sunday to continue to walk this road to and through the cross together, but even when you are, we don’t generally focus on the betrayal of Jesus that was read this morning from the Gospel of Luke. So, this morning, we’ll focus our attention on God’s Word that reminds us that

IN WHAT WE SAY AND DO, WE TOO BETRAY THE ONE WHO CAME TO SAVE US.

Are any of us surprised that the disciples said what they said and Peter did what he did in the Garden of Gethsemane? Are any of us surprised that the disciples were ready to fight the mob that came to arrest Jesus? Are any of us really surprised that Peter was the first to draw his sword and actually cut off someone’s ear? We aren’t. Because we can see ourselves doing the same thing. We can see ourselves quickly coming to the defense of those we love. And that’s not always a bad thing. But in this case, in the Garden, we’re talking about a large company of people (two of the Gospel writers use the word “crowd”), including soldiers, that came to arrest Jesus, and they came with swords and clubs. What did the disciples and Peter really think they were going to accomplish by getting into a fight with these guys? Not to mention, had they forgotten, again, who Jesus was and what he could do? The Son of God, who raised the dead and healed diseases, had plenty of options. With one word, Jesus could have called down as many angels as He wanted to and they would have been happy to fight on His behalf.

But Jesus allowed His friend, His disciple, to approach Him. And knowing full well what Judas was about to do, Jesus didn’t rebuke him, but instead allowed His disciple to betray Him in the most intimate of ways. With a kiss. In John’s Gospel we hear that Jesus speaks three words when the crowd asks for Jesus of Nazareth. Instead of fighting, or resisting, or seeking another way out, He showed us a better way. The perfect way. When the mob came out seeking Jesus of Nazareth, He said, “I AM He.” And when Jesus said, “I AM He,” they drew back and fell to the ground. But Jesus didn’t use his power to dispose of the enemy. Instead, Jesus showed restraint – perfect, holy restraint – and selflessly surrendered himself to the enemy. Do you know why? For us. Restraint is the ability to hold back. It’s a characteristic of self-control, and it’s not easy – especially in situations when you feel you’re wronged or are going to be wronged. How do you respond to unwarranted criticism? What’s your first reaction when someone accuses you of doing something you didn’t do or of being something or someone that you’re not? How do you react when you feel people are out to harm you? It’s often not restraint. Because our tendency is to think of ourselves first, and when we feel like we’re on trial or being threatened, our first inclination is to defend ourselves. That isn’t always the wrong reaction., but how often is it a pride thing? How often is it a revenge thing? How often is it a “how dare you!” thing? And maybe we don’t literally pull out a sword to cut off someone’s ear like Peter did, but maybe we lash out with our tongues. Or we fire an angry text or email or leave a bitter remark in the comments section. Or just in our evil, wicked thoughts we wish ill-will on someone. What do you think Jesus would say to all that? I think He’d say just what He said to the disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane: “No more of this!”

And then look at what Jesus does: “He touched the man’s ear and healed him.” Jesus had said, “Love your enemies,” and now he was showing his disciples – showing us – what that looks like. But it was far more than that. The path to our salvation began with Jesus’ surrender to this unholy mob in the garden. He stood in that garden as the perfect Lamb of God, the servant who never opened his mouth or drew a sword to harm anyone, but gave himself over willingly as our Savior from sin. And we need this Savior. We need his quiet and purposeful obedience to his Father’s will, his perfection, his holiness, his righteousness for us to be able to stand before our Father in heaven. And we need his willingness and his heart to say, as he did while being nailed to the cross, “Father, forgive them.” It’s such a gracious restraint. And all for our salvation! That really can’t be overstated: All for our salvation!

It also can’t be overstated that everything Jesus did for us is ours through faith. His righteousness is ours through faith, and the forgiveness of sins is ours through faith. The word vicarious is an all-important word to remember during this season of Lent. Vicarious means to do things in our place for our benefit. And this is just what Jesus did for us at the cross. But He did even more than that. That would have been enough, but He also gives us His example.

And we need that example. While the worldly betrayals we face are nothing compared to the betrayal Jesus dealt with, we do encounter them all the time. And this world would encourage us to have at the ready a quick comeback, a biting response, or a demeaning answer. At times it even seems like some people will bait us just to see how we might respond. But what if we acted and responded differently? Imagine the impact we could have in this overcharged world where restraint is a lost virtue. You know the One who showed love and restraint all the way to his sacrificial death on the cross for you. You know Jesus who is in control of all things and who’s working everything out for the good of His people. Let the response of Jesus be your response as well. Use restraint, because through it you will show love.

It won’t be the perfect love Jesus showed through His restraint. Through His willingness to be taken by those He knew would beat Him and send Him to His death. But even through our imperfect reflection of the love of God in Christ Jesus, we can make a difference for those who will then see the perfect love that Christ showed to all of us through His sacrificial death. His vicarious death in our place and for our benefit.

This Lenten Betrayal of our Lord and Savior by Judas is a great reminder to us of how easy it is to turn from a rejoicing, palm waving celebrant to an enemy of the Lord. Judas was surely there on Palm Sunday shouting hosanna to the Son of David and then just a few days later handing Him over to death. It’s the story of our lives as well. From the palm branch to the cross. From friend to foe. The saddest part is that Judas didn’t stick around to enjoy the end of the story. He didn’t get to experience the ultimate restoration that would have come for him had he just come back and asked for forgiveness. Because Jesus would have welcomed him back with open arms. And if Jesus could forgive that kind of betrayal, we can be sure that He’ll forgive each of us for every one of our betrayals. That’s the Christian life. And it’s summed up in the ups and downs of this week. Which is why I hope you’ll be here for all of it. Experiencing the great love of God through the Triumph of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, His gift of the sacrament given to His disciples and to us, His example of humility and self-sacrifice through His death, and ultimately His victory over sin, death and the devil as He triumphs over the grave. It’s going to be an amazing week. Praise be to God that we get to spend it together as we remember the greatest act of love ever. Amen.

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.