Tuesday, April 4, 2023
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Revolution in the upper room
His meal with friends in Bethany over, Jesus was back in Jerusalem. He dispatched two of his disciples to prepare a room for their Passover feast. Evening came, and all of them climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Reclining at table with his disciples, Jesus was deeply troubled. “One of you is going to betray me,” he said.
The disciples had watched Jesus know things they had not thought of. Often he read the minds of those who listened to him. “Is it me, is it me?” They whispered among themselves. “Is it me, Lord?” At last John asked Jesus.
Master, who is it?”
Jesus did not breathe his name, but instead handed him his part of the body and blood – a morsel of bread dipped in wine.
Jesus knew the impossible situation Judas had gotten himself into, and he also knew it had to be. There was never any going back. Judas’ betrayal and subsequent suicide, Jesus’ arrest, mock trial and crucifixion – it was as if they were in a chess game with only one set of moves, and even though Jesus saw them all, he did nothing to stop the inexorable machinery of death. It would take a few days.
Judas took the morsel and left at once. When he had left, Jesus said, “Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him. My children, I will be with you only a little while longer. And where I go you cannot come.
At every deathbed, the words might be the same. Where I go you cannot come. And those who are left are left bereft, alone, emptied out, lost. My friend recently unfairly lost her teaching job, and when she told her students, she might have added, “Where I go you cannot come.” Some wept, some became angry, some of the students knew they had been betrayed and said so. But still. My friend left the building, and on Monday another teacher took her place in front of those kids. Where I go you cannot come.
Peter, so intimate with Jesus, couldn’t believe that applied to him.
I will lay down my life for you.
Of course we know that Satan ambushed Peter on his way to that martyrdom, at least for now. Jesus knew too, and said so.
O Peter, the cock will not crow before you deny me three times.
Peter looked hurt, and he said no more. He carried his dagger in his belt. He thought he was ready for anything.
He made of me a sharp-edged sword and concealed me in the shadow of his arm. He made me a polished arrow, in his quiver he hid me.
God would show his glory, but not with violence and not with weapons. His protection of Jesus went far deeper than that. This week was when the world was turned upside down, and the gates of Eden would once again be thrown open, and the wolf would lie down with the lamb, and a little child would lead them.
Gonna lay down my sword and shield.
Not everybody got the heavenly memo, of course, and most had no idea that we would study war no more. But when any of those disciples sat for a few moments, or hours, or days, they would see what Jesus saw, that everything was new. And we too can sit for a few moments, or hours, or days, and see that newness too. With the Lord a day is like a thousand years.
We are made glorious in the sight of the Lord, and our God is now our strength!
The joy of the Lord runs now through our veins.
I will make you a light to the nations, and my salvation will reach to the ends of the earth.
(Isaiah 49, Psalm 71, John 13)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
#
