Midweek Lenten Service – April 6, 2011
Psalm 41:9 - Even my close friend, whom I trusted, he who shared my
bread, has lifted up his heel against me.
Have
you ever heard of a parent who named their child “Judas”? It just doesn’t happen anymore, does it? But in Jesus’ day, the name Judas seems to
have been quite popular. We see that of Jesus’
12 disciples, two were named Judas. But like
the name “Benedict Arnold,” the name Judas today has become a synonym for traitor.
Judas is someone we look upon with
disgust.
It
wasn’t always that way, though. The relationship
between Judas and Jesus began as friends, and that is the relationship Jesus strove
to maintain until the very end. This
evening we look at Judas, a man who had been Jesus friend. And through the eyes of prophecy, David tells
us the story in Psalm 41. He shows us how a faithless friend adds to Christ’s
anguish by the trust he betrays and the injury he inflicts.
The
words of Psalm 41, written by David, are words that certainly would have
applied to David at certain points in his own life. On more than one occasion David had advisors
and close friends betray him. But this
psalm also speaks to the betrayal of Jesus by his own disciple Judas. And we can be sure of that because Jesus
quoted it in reference to his own betrayal.
Jesus
spoke these words of Psalm 41 right before he predicted his betrayal at the
Last Supper. Yet, if you take time to
examine the way Jesus treats Judas, it’s amazing. He treats him as a friend. Even in the middle of Judas’ traitorous act
in the Garden of Gethsemane, while he is leading Jesus’ enemies to him and
exposing Jesus with a kiss, Jesus still addresses him in this way: “Friend, do what you came for” (Matthew
26:50). But was Judas ever really
Jesus’ friend?
We
have no reason to believe that when Judas began following Jesus, he was any
different from the rest of the disciples. Like the others, he was looking for Israel’s
Messiah. He wasn’t someone who only
occasionally made time for worship. He
was so drawn by Jesus’ message that he was willing to leave everything else
behind, whatever his career opportunities might have been, and literally follow
Jesus wherever he went. He was genuinely
amazed and excited by the miracles he saw. He was not a mole or spy secretly planted by
the Pharisees or Sadducees to sabotage Jesus’ ministry. He was a sincere believer, though sinful and
flawed, just like the rest of Jesus’ disciples.
If
you find that hard to believe, just look at the way in which Jesus treated
Judas! The words of our psalm describe
him as one “whom I trusted, he who
shared my bread.” Jesus trusted
Judas. He may not have been a part of
the inner circle of disciples like Peter, James, and John were, but he was
trusted enough to be given charge of the treasury, a job generally not given to
just anyone. Judas was entrusted with
the fullness of Jesus’ teachings, not just the sermons that were preached to
the crowds in public. When the time came
to send the disciples out for their first tour of mission work in Matthew
chapter 10, Judas was there. With his
partner, he went from town to town, preaching the gospel to the people. He had the privilege and joy of seeing people
grasp the grace of God and the forgiveness of sins for the first time. He also knew the pain of rejection.
Where
Jesus slept, Judas slept. Where Jesus
ate, Judas ate. And that last privilege
should not be underestimated. Christian
writer Brennan Manning comments, “Sadly,
the meaning of meal sharing is largely lost in the Christian community today.
In the Near East, to share a meal with someone is a guarantee of peace, trust,
fraternity, and forgiveness.” Judas
was loved, trusted, and accepted no less than the other 11 men who followed
Jesus. In fact, he was not like Peter –
someone who was often impetuous and spoke before he thought. He wasn’t vengeful like James and John – who
wanted to call down fire from heaven to destroy the Samaritan village that
rejected them and Jesus. But Judas did
love money. He helped himself to the
money in the disciples’ treasury, and for money he would betray his Savior’s
trust.
And
have you ever asked, could you or I be Judas? As a person who has taken time to come and
hear Jesus’ words in the middle of your busy week, you too are someone whose
heart is drawn close to him. Jesus has
trusted you to serve him, in the many different ways we do. You too know the
peace, trust, and forgiveness of eating at Jesus’ table, for these are exactly
the gifts he has given you together with himself in the Lord’s Supper. Like Judas, Jesus has made us his trusted
friends with whom he has shared every blessing.
But
what weaknesses, what pet sins, what temptations lay lurking in the deep, dark
corners of our hearts? We are so tempted
to underestimate the power of our own sinfulness. We like to qualify sin with “it’s just a
little”: “It’s just a little lust. Nothing
will come of it.” “It was just a little
slip of the tongue. Just a little
lie. No one was hurt by it.” “It was only a little too much to drink. Nothing I can’t control.” “It’s just a little laziness at work. Nothing that hasn’t been done before.” “It’s just a little dislike. I won’t let it turn into anything else.” “It’s just a little skipping out on God’s
Word. At least I’m there more than
others.” “It’s just a little theft. No one will even know that it’s missing.”
But
do you suppose that Judas tried to walk off with the disciples’ entire treasury
from the start? No doubt it began as
something small. No doubt he made it
seem little. How easy it is for us as
well. We minimize and rationalize our
sin, whatever it is, and we convince ourselves that we are still pretty good. Don’t be fooled! The same potential that led Judas to betray
our Savior’s trust and in the end to throw faith and life away, is not so
dormant and not so hidden inside of each one of us. Your sin, my sin, all sin
is frightening, because it can lead us to betray the trust our Savior has given
to us.
More
amazing than Judas’ betrayal of Jesus is Jesus’ love for Judas. “Friend,” he
calls him, even in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus knew of Judas’ plot to betray him even
before Judas did. Who of us would spend
so much time with a guaranteed failure? And yet Jesus gave Judas every chance. He brought Judas as close to himself as anyone
could possibly be and held out his grace to him to the very end.
And
equally amazing is Jesus loves for us.
Not only did he go to the cross to pay the penalty of our sins, but he
has brought us close to himself through faith and holds out his grace to us
each and every day. He invites us to
receive his free forgiveness every time we sin.
His love is so big that he stopped at nothing to win our salvation. That includes his willingness to be betrayed
by Judas!
So
far we have described how Judas betrayed Jesus’ trust, now let’s look at how
David describes the injury Judas inflicts: “Even
my close friend, whom I trusted, he who shared my bread, has lifted up his heel
against me.”
David
pictures the betrayal in a very vivid way. It’s one thing to hit or punch someone with a
fist. The right combination of blows can knock someone unconscious or even be
fatal in rare cases. But our legs are
much more powerful than our arms. A kick
strikes with more power and inflicts a deeper pain. Perhaps David’s words “lifted up his heel against me” bring to mind video footage we have
seen of police brutality or gang violence. Someone is curled up on the ground, and those
standing around kick at him and drive their heels into his body. It’s hard not to wince and grimace thinking
about such abuse.
Judas
did not slap Jesus in the face or spit on him as the members of the Sanhedrin
did. He was not among those who whipped
Jesus until the flesh was torn, or shove thorns into his head, or drive nails through
his skin. That was the work of the Roman
soldiers. Judas’ only physical contact
with Jesus throughout the events that led to his death was to plant a kiss on
his cheek in the Garden of Gethsemane, the kiss that turned Jesus over to the
men who sought to kill him.
But
that doesn’t mean that kiss of betrayal was any less painful. We know from
experience that we are most hurt by those who are closest to us. If a stranger insults us, we don’t give much
attention to their words. They don’t even
know us. If a long-time enemy attacks,
we almost expect it. But when someone
close to us turns on us, that wound runs deeper: the closer the relationship,
the deeper our pain.
And
Jesus counted his disciples closer to him than his own family. All of them would forsake him before the
night was over. Peter would even deny
him. But Judas was the friend who allied
himself with Jesus’ enemies and became a part of the plot to murder him. The
result was injury that ran deeper than the simple act of leading the soldiers
to arrest Jesus. This faithless man had been Jesus’ friend, and this betrayal
of the love and trust Jesus had poured on him added to Christ’s anguish.
Could
Jesus have avoided Judas’ betrayal that evening? He had known that it was coming. He had announced that it was coming. He could have gone to some other place in
Jerusalem to pray. He could have avoided
Jerusalem altogether. But that would not
have benefited you or me.
Earlier
we mentioned the love of Jesus for Judas that offered repentance and
forgiveness to the very end. It was
Jesus’ love for us that moved him to endure the anguish of this indignity, to
allow Judas to hand him over to those who would take his life. Here Jesus takes another step toward
perfectly fulfilling the Scriptures.
Here Jesus also suffers for our sins.
Here, in Jesus’ pain from a trust betrayed and a friendship rejected, we
find that God’s grace will stop at nothing to save us from our sins. Jesus goes forward to the cross so that we
might know him as Savior.
It
isn’t often that we focus our attention on the person of Judas himself. But tonight we do. We do so, not to increase our disgust at
Judas, but to praise Christ for willingly suffering the anguish inflicted by
his friend, so that he could go to the cross and make us his friends. Amen.