Jesus, Barabbas, and Pilate (Mark 15:1-15)

As soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate. Pilate asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” He answered him, “You say so.” Then the chief priests accused him of many things. Pilate asked him again, “Have you no answer? See how many charges they bring against you.” But Jesus made no further reply, so that Pilate was amazed.

Now at the festival he used to release a prisoner for them, anyone for whom they asked. Now a man called Barabbas was in prison with the rebels who had committed murder during the insurrection. So the crowd came and began to ask Pilate to do for them according to his custom. Then he answered them, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” For he realized that it was out of jealousy that the chief priests had handed him over. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release Barabbas for them instead. Pilate spoke to them again, “Then what do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?” They shouted back “Crucify him!” Pilate asked them, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Crucify him!” So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed them over to be crucified.”

Today we are continuing in our series of messages that remains our focus throughout Lent. We are studying 24 Hours that Changed the World, looking together at the events of the last 24 hours of Jesus’ life before the crucifixion. My hope is that you will experience and understand the significance of Jesus’ suffering and death in a way you never have before as we share this heart-breaking and inspiring journey.

Two weeks ago, we spent time with Jesus as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane on Thursday night. We struggled with him, joining in with him as he prayed, “Not my will, but yours be done,” just before he was arrested in the middle of the night. Last week, we went with him to the home of the high priest for a rushed trial in the middle of the night before the whole Jewish council, and we remembered that it was the religious people who worked against Jesus, not the sinners. The caution in our day, particularly for those of us who consider ourselves religious, is to check anything within ourselves that might be working against Jesus.

Today, our attention shifts to the next episode. After Jesus’ religious trial in the middle of the night, he was taken at daybreak to the Fortress Antonia, the home of the Roman governor and the Roman soldiers who occupied the city, for yet another trial before the governor, and that’s where we meet up with Jesus today. May we pray.

Leslie Wilson, our office manager, has struggled with typing the name “Pilate” all week. She’s a fitness nut, and she keeps wanting to put an “s” on the end of the word, making it “Pilates.” Just to be clear, today we are NOT talking about some fitness routine Jesus was on. Jesus wasn’t going to the gym four days a week for a class in Pontius Pilates!

Friday Morning, 7:00 am

In last week’s message, Jesus was brought under cover of darkness into a secret trial in front of the religious authorities of his day. They had found him guilty of blasphemy, a crime deserving the death penalty. However, the council itself did not have the authority to administer capital punishment. That authority rested with the Roman government. So, if the religious authorities were going to get Jesus killed, they were going to need some cooperation from the governor.

They knew the charge of blasphemy, his claim to be the Messiah, wouldn’t interest the Roman governor, but the implications of that claim might. Because, if Jesus was claiming to be the Messiah, that meant he was also claiming to be king, the Anointed One who would rule over the people. In those days, an oath that Roman citizens often took was to say, “Caesar is Lord.” In a manner of speaking, this was their pledge of allegiance to Caesar and his government. The Roman empire had room for only one king, and that king was Caesar.

The religious authorities were forcing the situation into one of two outcomes, and both worked out in their favor. If he wanted to escape death, Jesus would have to deny his claim to be the Messiah, and if he refused to renounce his claim, Pilate would have no choice but to put him to death for insurrection.

And so, the Jewish religious authorities brought Jesus to Pilate, the governor, with the accusation that Jesus had claimed to be some sort of God-appointed king over the people. But, Pilate knew what they were up to. He knew the chief priests and the elders and the scribes and the rest of the council had trumped up these charges against Jesus out of envy – Jesus was becoming more popular than they were, and their fear and insecurity drove their hatred.

Pilate drove right to the heart of the issue, and he asked Jesus, “Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus simply said, “You say so.” This is a rather cryptic response. Maybe it was meant to mean, “Yes, of course I am.” He might have meant, “You have spoken and I’m not going to disagree with you.” But, he didn’t elaborate. Jesus didn’t say another word.

When I read about Jesus’ silence at his trials, I see that resolutely, determined, even, Jesus is prepared to die. He was not about to defend himself. He wasn’t trying to get out of the death penalty. He had a choice – of denying his own identity by caving to the pressures of the religious leaders and the government and thus preserving his own life, or of standing resolutely to his claimed identity, remaining true to his mission, and thus being put to death.

Jesus knew that to deny his identity and preserve his own life would jeopardize his entire mission. It would have been the easy thing, the cushy thing, the comfortable thing, but it would have been the wrong thing. Jesus understands that doing the right thing will often have unpleasant consequences. However, he is not dissuaded even if the consequences of his actions mean his own death. He understands the consequences and he is prepared to deal with them.

Jesus knew what was coming. Unpleasant consequences to the claim he made lay ahead of him, yet he stood by his claim with full knowledge and acceptance of those consequences. He had prayed in the garden “Not my will, but yours be done,” a prayer that seemed to give him the strength to stand firm in what he knew to be right, even in the face of the evil that was about to be done to him.

Barabbas

It was the custom of the governor to release a prisoner during the Passover festival, and this is where we are introduced to Barabbas. We are told that Barabbas was a murderer – who here thinks Barabbas was a pretty bad dude? That is precisely the way we have been conditioned to think of Barabbas, we’ve been conditioned to not like him very much, to despise him, to think of him as some sort of monster, but I’d like to suggest another way to consider him.

To look at him another way, you need to put yourselves in the sandals of a Jewish person in the first century. Remember, Judea was occupied by the Roman government in those days. If Charlotte were invaded and occupied by – someone preposterous – Canada, let’s say, would you be happy or upset about that? I use Canada because they are the most polite people on the planet. OK, what if the Canadian government built a fort right in the middle of the city to house the army they had to leave here to keep order, would that make you happier or not so much? Now, how would you feel if your taxes increased by 600% and was paid to the Canadian government, who, in turn used the money to fund the army that occupied Charlotte? How do you think you’d feel about that – pretty happy, or pretty upset?

Well, the situation in Jerusalem wasn’t much different. Most people hated having the Roman army there, having to pay taxes to Rome that funded the very army that kept them under control.

But then, back to our Canada example, what if someone in Charlotte rose up and planned an uprising against the Canadian army, an overthrow of the local branch of the Canadian government, all in an attempt to drive the Canadian presence out of Charlotte for good? If you’re sick and tired of being under Canadian control, are you going to celebrate that person or resent them? And, if they’re unsuccessful in overthrowing the Canadian regime and end up in prison because of their role in the rebellion, would you view them as a criminal, or as the unfortunate political prisoner of the oppressive Canadian regime?

If you can understand that, then you can understand how the people viewed Barabbas. He had been involved in an uprising against the Roman authorities. Things didn’t go so well, and he was placed in prison for his role in the rebellion. But in the eyes of the people, he wasn’t a criminal. He was a political prisoner, a freedom fighter, a national hero. We tend to read the description of Barabbas as a “murderer,” and write him off as a bad dude, and wonder what in the world was the matter with the crowd that they would ask for him to be released instead of Jesus. But, if we focus on the other part of how he’s described, as “one involved in the rebellion,” and realize that would make him a national hero of the people, well, that changes everything.

Matthew’s Gospel tells us that Barabbas’ name was actually “Jesus Barabbas” (Matthew 27:16). The name “Jesus” means “Savior;” we are meant to know that both men were messianic figures. If you break down the name “Barabbas” into its two parts – “bar” and “abba,” you get even more meaning. “Bar” means “son” and “abba” means “father.” So his name, Barabbas, Bar-abbas, literally means “son of the father.” It was the custom to release one prisoner during the Passover, and the governor, Pilate, had two prisoners in front of him. One was Jesus – savior, king of the Jews, and the other was Barabbas – savior, son of the father. Both were charged with leading insurrections and wanting to be king of the Jews. Who would it be? Barabbas, who had murdered people during the rebellion, or Jesus, who had done nothing wrong – the Jesus who loved lost people, who taught them about the kingdom of God, and blessed many?

Clearly, given those options, Pilate thought the people would choose Jesus, and he was all too happy to oblige. Perhaps Pilate should have done his homework. Because the people were being given a choice between two messianic figures with very different messages. If you picture yourself as part of the crowd, who would you pick? One is going to lead by force, throw out the Romans, reclaim your wealth and prosperity, lower your taxes, and restore the strength of the nation. The other’s leadership involves loving those same oppressors, serving them as they dwell among you, doubling the service they demand of you. Given that choice, who would you choose?

Even more, the religious leaders stirred up the crowd against Jesus, and they clamored for Barabbas to be released, and that’s exactly what happened. In Mel Gibson’s film, The Passion of the Christ, as Barabbas was released, he looked back upon Jesus; and a momentary look of understanding crossed his face. For an instant, Barabbas seemed to understand that an innocent man would be nailed to the cross in his place. Barabbas would be the first sinner for whom Jesus died. We are meant to look at the cross and see both God’s great love and the costliness of grace and to find our hearts changed by what God has done for us. Like Barabbas, we walk away free because of the suffering of an innocent man.

Pilate

We think of modern politicians as the ones who are obsessed with taking public opinion polls, but Pilate was clearly no stranger to the process. He asked the people what they wanted, they said they wanted Barabbas released instead of Jesus, and Pilate made his decision based on the whim of the people, even though he knew it wasn’t right.

And, not content to stop there, Pilate took another public opinion poll. He asked, “What, then, do you want me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?” The chilling response came back: “Crucify him.” Wishing to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas, and after flogging Jesus, handed him over to be crucified.

What do we make of Pontius Pilate? I think his legendary fitness system gives us a clue. That’s right, we’re back to Pontius Pilates! The Pilates fitness system was created in the 1920s by legendary German fitness instructor Joseph Pilates, and there have been variations on his system.

However, Biblical archaeologists have recently uncovered new evidence that reveals the ancient antecedent to the contemporary Pilates system, and it was started by, you guess it, Pontius Pilate! Who said "No pain, No gain"? Not the 5th procurator of Judea that's for sure! This great leader was all about avoiding personal pain while strengthening his personal position. From this great man comes The Pontius Pilates Method™, and it's darn good!

The Pontius Pilates Method™ is based on three simple rules. Follow these rules, and you too can master the Pontius Pilates method! What are they? Well, I’m glad you asked!

1. Always do what’s easiest, not what’s right. Feel the burn as they demand what you know to be wrong, push against this pressure and then collapse and allow your weakness to wash over you. Feels good doesn't it? Now wash your hands of the whole thing.

2. True peace is born of ignorance. Sit in your chair and think of some difficult or controversial topic. Now, close your eyes and pretend you can’t see it. The sweeping power of the Pontius Pilates Method wipes the problem away as relief and peace come washing back in. Now, wash hands again.

3. A position of strength empowers the weak person. Still sitting in your exercise chair, simultaneously place your feet on the chest and throat of your adversary. This will cause them to cave to your wishes. You will be enlightened to the truth that even a feeble-minded person can exert influence over another if they are allowed to take a position of strength. Self-satisfied in your position of strength, go wash your hands again.

Pilate was hesitant to have Jesus killed. All four Gospel writers emphasize his discomfort with the idea and the many ways he tried to get out of it. If all four Gospel writers found it important to discuss how reluctant the Roman governor was to have Jesus killed, then we know very clearly that Jesus was not leading a rebellion against Rome.

Pilate knew Jesus was innocent. He knew it was wrong to put Jesus to death. He had the power to stop it. But the pull of the crowd was compelling, just as the voice of the leaders had proven compelling to members of the Jewish ruling council who might have questioned their part in Jesus’ death. Pilate sent Jesus to the cross to satisfy the desires of the crowd, washed his hands of the whole thing, and said, “The crowd made me do it. I’m not responsible.”

We are meant to see ourselves in the faces that conspired against Jesus. Maybe we find ourselves like Pilate, going along with the crowd, satisfying their desires even though we know it isn’t right, washing our hands and refusing to accept our own responsibility for our own actions. Maybe we find ourselves like Barabbas, a sinner whose place Jesus took, a sinner for whom Jesus died.

Or maybe, we find ourselves in the crowd, who turned on Jesus when they realized he wasn’t the messiah they were hoping for. When Jesus came into Jerusalem, many were anticipating a messiah who would lead an armed rebellion against the Romans; and Jesus sorely disappointed them. Jesus was the only messiah who refused to take up the sword. He had no interest in inciting the crowds to throw off the shackles of Roman oppression. Instead, he taught people to love their enemies and pray for their persecutors. He called blessed those who suffer for what is true and right, those who are meek, those who are peacemakers.

This was not what the people were looking for. Here was a would-be messiah who went against everything many of them believed in. For them, the only way to survive was by force. Freedom required the sword. But Jesus said, in effect, “Listen; I tell you: it is not by the power of the sword but by the power of the cross that you will be set free. It’s not going to be by raising up an army against the Romans. Rather, it will be by demonstrating sacrificial love.”

And Jesus was right. He knew that if every Jewish man, woman, and child were armed to the teeth and pitted against the Romans, they would be crushed. Jesus realized that victory over the Romans would not come by way of the sword. He said it would come by the power of agape love – a giving, emptying, sacrificial love that ultimately cannot be defeated. “You will conquer them,” he was saying, “with the power of an idea. When they hear about your God and see that God lived out in your lives, then their hearts will be changed.”

This, of course, is what happened. Christianity spread because it was so compelling. The story of a God who came as a man to call people to love and who suffered for them was a far more powerful story than any to be found in any other religious tradition. The Roman empire was ultimately conquered not by the sword, but by the cross of Christ.

This was the way of Jesus. Yet on that fateful day, the crowd considered the message and way of Jesus, and said, “No thanks. We’ve seen your way, Jesus, and we’d prefer to do it our way instead. Away with Jesus, we have no use for him anymore. Crucify him! Crucify him!” We are meant to see ourselves in this story.

Condemned by the Righteous (Mark 14:53-72)

They took Jesus to the high priest; and all the chief priests, the elders, and the scribes were assembled.

Now the chief priests and the whole council were looking for testimony against Jesus to put him to death; but they found none.

Again the high priest asked him, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?” Jesus said, “I am; and ‘you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Power,’ and ‘coming with the clouds of heaven.’” Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, “Why do we still need witnesses? You have heard his blasphemy! What is your decision?” All of them condemned him as deserving death. Some began to spit on him, to blindfold him, and to strike him, saying “Prophesy!” The guards also took him over and beat him.

While Peter was below in the courtyard, one of the servant-girls of the high priest came by. When she saw Peter warming himself, she stared at him and said, “You also were with Jesus, the man from Nazareth.” But he denied it, saying, “I do not know or understand what you are talking about.” And he went out into the forecourt. Then the cock crowed. But again he denied it. Then after a little while the bystanders again said to Peter, “Certainly you are one of them, for you are a Galilean.” But he began to curse, and he swore an oath, “I do not know this man you are talking about.” At that moment the cock crowed for the second time. Then Peter remembered that Jesus had said to him, “Before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.” And he broke down and wept.

Today we are continuing in our series of messages that remains our focus throughout Lent. We are studying 24 Hours that Changed the World, looking together at the events of the last 24 hours of Jesus’ life before the crucifixion. My hope is that you will experience and understand the significance of Jesus’ suffering and death in a way you never have before as we share this heart-breaking and inspiring journey.

Last week, we spent time with Jesus as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. We heard Jesus struggle as he prayed, “Not my will, but yours be done.” We also spent some with Judas, who truly loved Jesus, Nevertheless, he still betrayed Jesus. The betrayal of Jesus was an inside job. Rarely is the ministry of Christ, whether in that time or in ours, torn apart by outsiders. We are always more of a threat to ourselves than any force or factor outside.

Today, our attention shifts to the next scene. Following his arrest in the garden, Jesus was taken to the house of the high priest for a rushed trial in the middle of the night, and that’s where we pick up the story. May we pray.

Early Friday Morning

In Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Harry is brought up on charges and brought to trial before the Ministry of Magic for practicing a certain kind of magic in the presence of a regular person. Alone, he is brought into a trial where no due process is followed, and it doesn’t look good. Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of his school, shows up mid-trial and comes to Harry’s aid. The trial had been secretly moved several hours ahead of schedule, but Professor Dumbledore anticipated this breach of due process, and just happened to arrive at the ministry three hours early.

In some ways, it is a scene reminiscent of the trial of Jesus before the Jewish ruling council.

Sometime between 1am and 3am Friday morning, Jesus was arrested in the Garden of Gethsemane. The crowds who had greeted him with adulation on Sunday morning were now asleep in their beds. The disciples who had followed him for three years since hearing him call their names by the edge of the Galilean lake had all fled into the darkness. Bound hand and foot by the temple guards, as they made their way back into the city, Jesus had never been more alone.

Jesus was brought to the home of the high priest in the middle of the night, under the cover of darkness, and in that secrecy, the Jewish Sanhedrin, the high ruling council, was hastily assembled. The Sanhedrin were 71 men who ruled over the religious affairs of the people, some of the wisest and most pious men of the time. They had devoted themselves to God, and their high priest was the most important religious figure of their day.

Normally, the Sanhedrin met during the day in the temple courts, and never during religious feasts. Think about that for a minute. The temple was a very public place. People were constantly coming to make their sacrificial offerings. The rabbis would gather to teach and debate. The temple was not only where you went to worship; it was the center of community life for the Jewish people. Under normal circumstances, this was where the Sanhedrin conducted its business – in a very public, visible, well-traveled place where anybody and everybody could observe what happened.

However, for Jesus’ trial, this is not where they gathered. Roused from their beds, called into special session, away from the busyness of the temple and in the home of the high priest, not in broad daylight but in secret and shadow, during the biggest religious festival of the year. All these irregularities speak to the urgency and the secrecy the council felt necessary in dealing with Jesus.

Condemned by the Righteous in That Day

Don’t miss the irony of what happened. In Jesus, God walked in human flesh on this earth. So much did he want to know us and relate to us that he willingly gave up the splendor of heaven in order to be one of us. And while he was with us, he healed the sick, forgave sinners, showed compassion to the lost, and taught people what God was really like. And who had a problem with that? The most religious, godly, and pious people on the planet. They were charter members, Sunday School teachers, members of the Church Council, tithing members. They had served on the building committee, the scholarship committee, the finance committee, and the missions committee. They were pastors and professors, district superintendents and bishops, president of the United Methodist Women – they were good, honest, hard-working, godly people – entrusted with leadership in discerning the ongoing work of God in the world.

Ironic, that when God walked among us in the person of Jesus, it was the most religious, godly, and righteous people who condemned him. The God they claimed to serve walked among them in the flesh, but they could not see him. They were so blinded by their love of power and their fear of losing it that they missed him. The people you would most expect to recognize and hail Jesus instead arrested him in darkness and brought him to trial. They put God on trial for blasphemy. They convicted God-in-flesh of a crime worthy of the death penalty – blasphemy against himself!

The religious folks were so angry and hostile toward Jesus, failing to recognize that before them stood the answer to centuries of prayer. They mocked him, they blindfolded him, they spat on him. Can you imagine it – good, religious folks doing this to the very one God sent into their midst as an answer to their prayers?

The question we must ask is, “How could this happen?” How could 71 righteous men, dedicated to God, do what these men did? Why did they condemn an innocent man to death? And even if they thought he was a false messiah, why would pious men, pillars of the community, spit on him? Why would they mock him, blindfold him, and strike him?

Fear. They feared Jesus. Jesus was a threat to their way of life, their position, their standing, the very fabric of their social order. What I have noticed is that religious folks, over time, tend to get very protective. Sometimes the more religious we are, the longer we have considered ourselves religious, the greater the threat we sense from Jesus. And when anything comes along that threatens our power, our standing, our way of doing things, our institutions, even when that thing is directly from God, we lash out in fear.

It was those who were righteous who condemned Jesus. The sinners of Jesus’ day celebrated him. They flocked to Jesus and they wanted to hear what he had to say. Over and over again, Jesus reached directly into the lives of sinners and touched their hearts, and sinners found themselves transformed. I’m inclined to think that if Jesus walked among us today, you’d be hard-pressed to find him in a church. Through the Gospels, Jesus’ preference was always to hang out with tax collectors and prostitutes and other sinners. When he did show up at the temple, he did stuff that pissed off the religious people, like turning over tables and teaching them things they didn’t want to hear. The more religious they were, the more pissed off they were at what Jesus did.

Condemned by the Righteous in Our Day

The great tragedy is when we consider ourselves so religious, so spiritual, so superior, so convinced of our own correctness, that we stop asking for forgiveness from God, that we stop admitting our own shortcomings, that we stop doing what is necessary to continue to grow in grace. Because, what I find is that the closer I draw to God, the more acutely I realize just how distant I am from God. The more I grow in God’s grace, the more I realize just how much growing I still have to do. I am leery of anyone who brags about what a good Christian they are; such bragging runs counter to the spirit of humility and submission to Christ that is fundamentally required for those who are growing in God’s grace. Those who claim to be godly but whose lives fail to evidence a growth in God’s grace are dangerous, indeed.

Perhaps that’s why more evil has been advanced in the name of God and religion through the centuries than any of us would care to admit. Sure, we could name the ways the Bible has been abused and misinterpreted to justify and glorify war, slavery, sexism, racism, and homophobia, but I wondered if there were some examples a little closer to home.

On facebook this week, I put this question out there: “When have you seen devout, faithful, religious people work against God or get in the way of what God was doing?” Randy Blanton said, “We have some ladies who are overly consumed with the state of our physical buildings. Their hearts are in the right place, but they are such sticklers for details that many people are afraid to use the buildings. Thus ministry is inhibited.”

Elise Kennedy said, “We have some folks who really have great gifts, but instead of use their gifts to bring people to God they use them for control and 'power.'”

And then, Jonathan Brake: “The men of the church did home repair for a needy family and invited them to church. They had been hurt by churches before but took a chance and found Christian love this time. Several months later the mother overheard someone's comment that ‘we don't want people LIKE THAT in OUR church.’ So much for Christian love.” These were all United Methodist churches right here in Western North Carolina.

It is possible to be a good, pious, godly, religious person, and yet remain blind to what God is actually doing. In each instance, the purpose of the Church – to be the physical presence of Christ in the world, to make disciples of Christ, to bridge the gulf of separation between God and ALL humanity, to transform the world one life and one heart at a time – was made subservient to some special interest – the building, control and power, and social class. In each instance, godly, righteous, pious church members missed the point entirely, they missed the forest for the trees, and anytime we put special interests ahead of our core purpose, we are like the righteous members of the Sanhedrin who condemned Jesus. Sinners didn’t push for Jesus’ death; righteous people did.

Say Something

At the same time, I think there were also at least a few of the 71 people on the Sanhedrin who questioned whether it was right to condemn Jesus to death. We don’t know for sure, but I’ll bet two or three people in the room were sitting there thinking, “I don’t believe that what we’re about to do is the right thing.” But, they remained silent. Perhaps not wanting to resist the will of the whole group, perhaps not wanting to appear foolish, perhaps not wanting to draw attention or condemnation to themselves, perhaps afraid and intimidated by those in power, but for whatever reason, they remained silent. Eighteenth-century British philosopher and politician, Edmund Burke, summed it up nicely when he said, “The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”

What would have happened if one or two or three of the members of the Sanhedrin had said, “This isn’t right, regardless of what we think of this man. It’s not in keeping with what God teaches us.”

In our own situations we must be able to say, with great humility and despite our fear, “You know, this just doesn’t feel right.” When you see something you know isn’t right – when you see the will of a group hijacked by someone with less than noble aims, when you witness oppression and injustice and abuse, say something. In that pivotal moment when two things are both pounding in your head, when you mind is torn between “Say something!” and “You dare not say anything,” always say something. The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing.

Don’t forget Peter

The last part of this episode took place in the courtyard of the high priest, a scene we all know well, as Peter denied his association with Jesus. When the other disciples fled, Peter didn’t run far. He hung back in the shadows, and stealthily followed Jesus and the guards all the way back into the city, right to the high priest’s house. And then, wanting to know what was going on, he stood straight, and walked into the courtyard and began to warm himself by the fire. Do you see the courage it took to do that? Knowing he could be put to death simply because of his association with Jesus, he still went into the courtyard of the high priest.

His courage only lasted to a point, however. I imagine he was trying to blend into the crowd around the fire, but something in his face and demeanor gave him away to one of the servant girls, and she began to give him away to the others, and Peter found himself denying that he had ever known Jesus.

The incident is one of the few that is mentioned in all four Gospels, so all four Gospel writers must have considered this fairly important. None of the other disciples were there, so how did they know this story? Because, Peter must have regularly told the awful truth of this story himself. I can hear him saying, “I know you’ve denied Jesus. I denied him myself. I denied him in a way that I am deeply ashamed of, and yet I have to tell you: I betrayed the Lord, but he gave me grace. He took me back. And if you’ve denied him, he’ll take you back too.”

Peter wanted to reassure others that, despite the fact that there are times when we deny the Lord, he will take us back and continue to use us to accomplish his work. That simple truth is central to every proclamation of the Gospel – none of us, nobody in here and nobody out there – has done anything so awful they can’t be welcomed into the arms of God’s mercy, transformed by God’s grace, and employed for God’s purposes in the world.

So what does it all mean? It was the religious people, the godly people, the righteous people, who let Jesus down. Judas, one of his closest friends, betrayed him. The priests and many members of the religious council actively pursued him. Other members of the council sat silently by, giving their tacit agreement to the sentence handed over. And Peter – headstrong, zealous, and a fierce defender of the faith – denied Jesus. It wasn’t the sinners who conspired against Jesus, it wasn’t the world or “those people out there” who did him in. No, the people working against Jesus and failing Jesus were the religious people.

You know, I hear a lot of religious people talking about the powers of darkness in the world, all that stuff that’s happening “out there” that we need to protect ourselves from and actively fight against.

But for each of us, the greatest danger is right here (in our hearts), not out there. Before we launch a full-scale assault on all the evil out there, maybe we should honestly confront the evil and darkness that lies within each of us. Even if, and perhaps especially if, we consider ourselves righteous and religious, it might simply be a good idea to deal with our own sin and open ourselves up for the Holy Spirit to transform our own hearts. After all, we’ve seen what righteous people are capable of.

The Garden of Gethsemane (Mark 14:32-52)

They went to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. And he said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.” And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. He said, “Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.” He came and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep awake one hour? Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. And once more he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to say to him. He came a third time and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Enough! The hour has come; the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.”

Immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; and with him there was a crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders. Now the betrayer had given them a sign saying, “The one I kiss is the man; arrest him and lead him away under guard.” So when he came, he went up to him at once and said, “Rabbi!” and kissed him. Then they laid hands on him and arrested him. But one of those who stood near drew his sword and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear. Then Jesus said to them, “Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest me as though I were a bandit? Day after day I was with you in the temple teaching, and you did not arrest me. But let the scriptures be fulfilled.” All of them deserted him and fled. A certain young man was following him, wearing nothing but a linen cloth. They caught hold of him, but he left the linen cloth and ran off naked.

What a difference a day makes. This saying finds its truest expression in relation to the life of Jesus. No single event in human history has received more attention than the suffering and crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus is believed to have died at the age of 33, after a life of approximately 12,000 days. The Gospel writers devoted the vast majority of their work to just 1100 or so of those, the last three years of his life. And, the bulk of their writing focused on the last week of his life, and in particular, on one fateful day.

Today, we begin a worship series that examines that day. What a difference a day makes; 24 hours changed the world. We will look at the geographical and historical setting of the events of that fateful day; reflect theologically on Jesus’ death; and ultimately, look to see ourselves in the story, considering how we are like Pilate or Peter, Judas or John. My hope is that you will experience and understand the significance of Jesus’ suffering and death in a way you never have before. I invite your full attention as we embark together on this heart-breaking and inspiring journey.

Researching these events and working on these messages have deepened my own faith and my sense of love and gratitude for Jesus. I pray these messages over the next several weeks do the same for you. May we pray.

Thursday Evening – 11pm

Jesus and his disciples had just finished the Passover meal in the Upper Room; that meal we now know as the Last Supper. We’ll look at that meal in a few weeks. At the end of the meal, they sang a hymn that is still part of the Passover Seder today. Based on selected verses from Psalm 113 to Psalm 118, it is called the ‘Hallel,’ meaning praise, and it’s actually the root of the word from which we get another word – Hallelujah.

I wonder if, on that night, Jesus drew comfort from the words: “Out of my distress I called on the Lord; the Lord answered me and set me in a broad place. With the Lord on my side I do not fear. What can mortals do to me? . . . I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the Lord . . . I was pushed hard, so that I was falling, but the Lord helped me. The Lord is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation” (Psalm 118:5-6,17,13-14).

They left the Upper Room in Jerusalem for the 25-minute walk to the garden. Out to the east and down into the Kidron Valley, they walked north through that valley, to the base of the Mount of Olives, into a small garden. It is this garden where Jesus has come to pray all week, since riding into Jerusalem on what we have come to know as Palm Sunday, Jesus has been alternating between teaching in the temple and retreating to this garden to pray.

Fully Divine, Fully Human

This garden was named “Gethsemane.” The word means “olive oil press,” and here Jesus himself will be pressed – tried and tested to the limit of both his humanity and his divinity. From the very beginning, the Church has taught that Jesus is fully human and fully divine. This is one of the great mysteries of our faith – how God became human in the person of Jesus, how Jesus could be both God and human. It’s not that he’s 50% human and 50% divine, it’s not that sometimes he acts out of his humanity and other times out of his divinity – Jesus is fully human and fully divine all the time. This is one of the central tenets of our Christian faith.

The Catholic campus ministry at Wake Forest has t-shirts saying “Catholics: Keeping it Real Since 33 AD.” Holding the full divinity and the full of humanity of Jesus is the basis of keeping it real, something we’ve done since the very beginning – or at least, since 33 AD.

As Jesus prays in the garden of Gethsemane, never before has he been more human, and never before has he been more divine. He tells Peter, James, and John to watch and pray because he is, “distressed, agitated, and grieved.” These are very human emotions! Jesus went a little further, threw himself down on the ground and began to pray. You need to understand how significant this is. The usual posture for prayer in that day was to stand with your feet apart, look up, and stretch out your hands, either to the side or upward, as you prayed. The posture we assume for prayer – heads bowed, eyes closed, hands folded (the fetal prayer curl) – developed a few hundred years later.

Jesus’ anguish

But here, Jesus’ cup is empty. He knows what is ahead, and here his humanity comes shining through. He is wracked with grief, he can see his whole mission in splinters as he will be nailed to the cross. If he dies, most people would not see him as the Messiah. They would not understand that God wanted them to invite everyone to God’s banquet, to offer reconciliation of relationship to everyone, to leave the comfort zone of life with the 99 in order to risk sharing God’s love with the one outside the fold. People might continue with the presumption of judgment so cherished by the Pharisees, instead of cling to the presumption of grace Jesus preached over and over. It might all be lost, and the suffering ahead of Jesus is certainly nothing he wants to experience.

Some Christians have been uncomfortable with how raw, vulnerable, and exposed Jesus seems in this prayer. Personally, I take great comfort in seeing Jesus make this prayer in the garden. Because, he knows what it is to go through difficulty. He is no stranger to suffering. He knows sorrow, and grief, and fear, and pain. Whenever I face some trial or difficulty, my trust and my faith is in Jesus who prayed, “Take this cup from me.” When I am at the end of my rope, when I feel anguished and grieved, Jesus knows what that feels like. He’s been there.

Whenever we face any of life’s difficulties, it is better to go through it with someone else who has been there. When my mom was battling cancer, one of the people who helped her walk through that was Karen, a friend going through the same thing – the same non-textbook reactions to medications and treatments, the same ambiguity, the same fatal prognosis. Karen joined the Church Triumphant in November, and when I called her husband, Bill, he said: “I can’t imagine your Mom or my Karen walking through this without the other. I can only imagine that when Karen arrived in heaven, your dear sweet Julie was among those who greeted her at the door.”

We need others who can walk through the difficult places with us. We need those who can shine the sunshine of God’s presence into the dark places in our lives. We all need that. It is pure foolishness to think that any of us are so strong or so independent that we don’t need that support. We can get it from others who have been there. And most certainly, we get that support from Jesus, because he knows what it’s like. He’s been there.

Aiming our Prayers (and our Lives)

In this prayer offered by Jesus, there are lessons for our own prayers. Too often, we come to God with our shopping list and ask God to check off the items on it – “God, I want this,” “God, give me that,” “God, make this happen,” “God, keep that from happening.” How many times have you been facing some trial or hardship and said, “Lord, take it away because I can’t bear the thought of going through that.”

We can earnestly desire all sorts of things we don’t need, and we can pray for God to make them happen. But, I think Garth Brooks was right. Some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers. I remember praying fervently for this one or that one to fall in love with me, and it just broke my little teenage heart when that didn’t happen. Anyone else ever do that, or was I the only one? But then, a few years later, you run into some of these old flames, and they have changed over the years, and you think, “Wow, thanks, God. Really glad that one didn’t work out!”

Rather than asking God to conform to our desires, I wonder if it wouldn’t be a better idea for us to conform our hearts to the desires of God’s heart. The goal of the Christian life is transformation – more and more into God’s image. We need to embrace change as part of what it means to be a Christian. Jesus constantly asks us to change, to grow more like him, to restore more and more of the image of God marked indelibly on our souls – the God in whose image every man, woman, and child was made.

There’s a facebook group – “Life is better when you have God in it!” I don’t want to belittle anyone’s honest attempts at faith, but that statement is just completely theologically wrong. We don’t invite God into our life – God has invited us to life with God long before we ever reached toward God. That’s part of our identity as Methodists – we celebrate the grace of God that reaches out toward us before we ever have our first thought about God! To say that life is better when you have God in it makes it sound like God is simply one among many ingredients that can be placed in the recipe of your life, or that God is one the parts of a well-balanced breakfast. The language of inviting God into our life or inviting Jesus into our heart suggests that we are still largely in control of things. We may play the gracious host, but it’s our party, our life, our heart, thank you very much, and God is a guest there. Rather than saying “Life is better when you have God in it,” we would be better-served to say, “Life is better when it’s in God.”

“Not my will, but yours”

Placing our life into the center of God’s life brings us back to the prayer Jesus offered in the Garden of Gethsemane. Because, after he asked for the hour to pass from him, after he asked for the cup to be removed from him, he added one very important phrase: “Yet, not my will, but yours be done.” Each of us knows what it is like to sense that God wants us to do something we do not want to do, but praying this prayer with Jesus calls us to search deep within and place our complete and total trust in God.

That sentiment is the root of a prayer from our own Methodist heritage – the Covenant Prayer in the Wesleyan Tradition. I’ll leave copies of it out on the table in the narthex for everyone. The prayer begins with these words: “I am no longer my own, but thine.” I wish I could say I pray this prayer every day, but there are days I forget. But I will tell you, when I do pray this prayer, it is a powerful reminder of who my life belongs to. I encourage you to pray that prayer daily from now until Easter, and see if it doesn’t transform your heart, your attitude, your desires, and your passions. In fact, you’ll probably want to continue praying it well beyond Easter. You can’t pray that every day and NOT find your heart turned toward God. Even Jesus prayed twice more, using the same words. Even Jesus has to continue to submit his human desires to God’s divine will.

Betrayed with a kiss

Jesus struggled with that for several hours, praying through the night, telling the disciples to watch and pray, coming back and finding them asleep. The final part of the episode occurred somewhere between 1am and 3am. Judas, one of Jesus’ twelve closest followers, arrived in the Garden, leading those sent by the religious authorities to arrest Jesus.

Judas is such a tragic figure; even now, 2000 years later, the name “Judas” is synonymous with “traitor.” Further, each of us has been a Judas, both to Jesus and to others. The sign he chose by which he would betray Jesus was a kiss. The Greek word for kiss is philein, a word used to describe true affection for another. Judas loved Jesus, but he still betrayed him. The very kiss itself may be a sign of the conflict that raged within him – of a love for Jesus and yet a desire to be rid of him, a love for God’s kingdom and the desire for the riches of the kingdoms of this world. One thing I want you to remember about the betrayal of Jesus: it was an inside job. Very seldom is the ministry of Christ – whether in that day or in ours – torn apart by outsiders. We are more a threat to our future, we are more a threat to ourselves, than any factor outside. Judas was an insider.

When Leonardo daVinci was working on “The Last Supper,” he needed 13 men to pose for the figures in the painting. The legend is told that while sitting in mass one day, he looked in the choir and there saw a young man whose face beamed with love, compassion, and kindness, and this young man to sat for the face of Jesus. Ten years later, still finding models for the disciples, he saw a man in the prison whose face wore all the qualities of Judas for which he had been searching. A few days into their work, the man began to weep. He said, “Maestro, don’t you remember me? I sat in this studio ten years ago, and then, I sat for Christ.”

The real difference between Jesus and Judas lay in what they both prayed on that night. Judas said, “God, not your will, but MINE be done.” “Time for action.” “We’re doing it my way.” Judas refused to surrender and submit his self-interest to God’s, but charged blindly ahead with HIS plan, which turned out to be a great act of cowardice.

Jesus also put his own interests out there – “let this hour pass from me, take this cup from me.” Three times, he begged God to take it all away. But then, he submitted his own human life to God’s divine will. He said, “Not my will, but yours be done.” He surrendered, he submitted, which turned out to be a great act of courage.

We can be like Judas, and pray as the world has taught us: “Not your will, but MINE be done.” Or, we can be like Jesus, who taught us to pray, “Not my will, but YOURS be done.” Say it with me – “Not my will, but YOURS be done.”