Jeremiah 11:18-20; 1 Timothy 6:12-14; St Mark 14-15
In the Name + of JESUS. Amen.
It was their custom to celebrate the Passover together. After all, they had become as family, Jesus their paterfamilias, they brothers in bond, and soon to be, in blood. And so they prepared it as the Teacher had instructed them. As it was in the beginning and so it is now, all things happen according to His Word.
And when it was evening, He came with the Twelve. And as they were reclining at table and eating, Jesus said, “Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray Me, one who is eating with Me.” They began to be sorrowful and to say to Him one after another, “Is it I?” It is sort of a strange question. Ought a man not know if he was about to betray the Son of Man? Jesus knows. The Lord made it known to Him and He knew, as Jeremiah said. He knows because He prays the Psalms, which prophecy of the betrayer: Even My close friend in whom I trusted, who ate My bread, has lifted his heel against Me (Ps 41:9). But the disciples don’t know for themselves.
They all ask because they all feel guilty. And they feel guilty because they are guilty. Their thoughts and words have been soiled with sin. The full weight of the Law in crushing down upon them. The Law always accuses. It always condemns. It is a constant guest in the hearts and minds of fallen Adam’s fallen children. It could have been anyone of them. At some point they all thought about it. Betrayal would have meant a return home. It would have meant money in the pocket and no more being run out of towns, no more sleepless nights, no more danger from exposure or famine or sword.
The life of an itinerant preacher, a disciple of this Rabbi, was not easy. The spirit may indeed be willing, but the flesh is oh so weak. Like a deployed soldier holed up in some mountain village, longing for normalcy and peace, each of them at some point ached for the comfort of home. Even St Peter asked, We have left everything and followed you. What then will we have? (Mt 19:27). They had yet to learn contentment.
And in the face of real danger their macho oath to die with Him rather than deny Him is worthless. They cannot stay awake even to pray. Peter fumbles around with his sword. They all flee. And John Mark, in an image harkening back to the Garden of Eden and the shame of our first parents, ran away naked. Perhaps more than the physical punishment, it is this, the emotional abandonment, that is more difficult to bear. Jesus is left utterly alone. Betrayed. Abandoned. Forsaken.
Yet shall He die for them, for He is their Captain and their Mediator. He shall lay down His life for them. He shall bear the insults, endure the slander and the lies. Though He committed no evil, He will receive the just punishment under the Law, both of the Roman Court and of the heavenly. He will make the good confession, not for His own sake, but for yours. He would not save Himself, but He will save others, precisely by going to the Cross. He shall climb the Hill of the Skull and allow the Devil to do his worst to Him until he is completely spent and Satan falls on his own sword.
For this is His victory; His defeat of death and hell and the powers of the devil. He has conquered. Life and death have contended in that combat stupendous. The victory remained with Life, Life Incarnate, Jesus Christ. And He bestows this victory upon you. It comes only by way of His Cross and Passion, by sharing in His death and resurrection, having fellowship in His persecution. It comes through the watery grave of Holy Baptism in which you are marked with His crucifix; drowned and died, buried with Christ and dead to sin, alive to God in the righteousness and purity of faith.
The Christian life is a fight, dear ones, as St Paul reminds young Timothy. Life lived under the Cross is lived in constant struggle. Not only against principalities and powers, but sometimes against flesh and blood; most often your own adamic flesh, clinging to your bones, stuck in your very nature. It is always easier to deny. Always easier to acquiesce. Always easier to remain silent. The flesh is weak. And it doesn’t merely want contentment, it wants luxury. It wants to boast of it own accomplishments and milestones; of perseverance and achievements, to brag about swords and manly oaths.
But the Introit for tonight puts into your mouth the prayer of St Paul, Far be it from me to boast except in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world (Gal 6:14). This is the good confession. It has been given to you in grace that you may speak it back to the Father and before men. The Lord opens your lips and your mouth declares His praise.
In faith you proclaim the victory of Christ in the foolishness of the Cross. For it is only in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ that the accusations of the Law are silenced. Only there can a guilty conscience be at peace through the blood which He shed for you. Like a gentle lamb led to the slaughter, the SinBearer, took into His own flesh your sins of flesh and soul, and put them to death. Endured the wrath of God and buried the condemnation of the Law.
And it is the preaching of the Word of His Cross that brings comfort to your grieving consciences and peace to your wounded hearts. By these He covers your nakedness with the robe of His own righteousness; the clothing of the Innocent Lamb who committed His cause to the Father. He judges righteously. Holy fast to His Word and promise; keep His it unstained and free from reproach. For in Him there is no shame or guilt. You are justified by faith in the Blood of Jesus Christ, your Passover Lamb. Take hold, dear ones, of the eternal life to which you were called.
And behold, it is here, reclining at Table with Jesus, your conscience accusing you, your weak flesh tormenting you, that in mercy and love He takes bread, and after blessing it with His Word, gives it to you saying, Take, eat; This is My Body. And so also with the Cup: This is My Blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. Once again this evening, dear disciples of the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, He bestows upon you the spoils of His victory; He gives you to eat the fruit of the Tree of Life, the Tree of His Cross. In Him is salvation, life, and resurrection from the dead; by Him are you redeemed at set at liberty.
In the Name of the Father and + of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
In the Name + of JESUS. Amen.
It was their custom to celebrate the Passover together. After all, they had become as family, Jesus their paterfamilias, they brothers in bond, and soon to be, in blood. And so they prepared it as the Teacher had instructed them. As it was in the beginning and so it is now, all things happen according to His Word.
And when it was evening, He came with the Twelve. And as they were reclining at table and eating, Jesus said, “Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray Me, one who is eating with Me.” They began to be sorrowful and to say to Him one after another, “Is it I?” It is sort of a strange question. Ought a man not know if he was about to betray the Son of Man? Jesus knows. The Lord made it known to Him and He knew, as Jeremiah said. He knows because He prays the Psalms, which prophecy of the betrayer: Even My close friend in whom I trusted, who ate My bread, has lifted his heel against Me (Ps 41:9). But the disciples don’t know for themselves.
They all ask because they all feel guilty. And they feel guilty because they are guilty. Their thoughts and words have been soiled with sin. The full weight of the Law in crushing down upon them. The Law always accuses. It always condemns. It is a constant guest in the hearts and minds of fallen Adam’s fallen children. It could have been anyone of them. At some point they all thought about it. Betrayal would have meant a return home. It would have meant money in the pocket and no more being run out of towns, no more sleepless nights, no more danger from exposure or famine or sword.
The life of an itinerant preacher, a disciple of this Rabbi, was not easy. The spirit may indeed be willing, but the flesh is oh so weak. Like a deployed soldier holed up in some mountain village, longing for normalcy and peace, each of them at some point ached for the comfort of home. Even St Peter asked, We have left everything and followed you. What then will we have? (Mt 19:27). They had yet to learn contentment.
And in the face of real danger their macho oath to die with Him rather than deny Him is worthless. They cannot stay awake even to pray. Peter fumbles around with his sword. They all flee. And John Mark, in an image harkening back to the Garden of Eden and the shame of our first parents, ran away naked. Perhaps more than the physical punishment, it is this, the emotional abandonment, that is more difficult to bear. Jesus is left utterly alone. Betrayed. Abandoned. Forsaken.
Yet shall He die for them, for He is their Captain and their Mediator. He shall lay down His life for them. He shall bear the insults, endure the slander and the lies. Though He committed no evil, He will receive the just punishment under the Law, both of the Roman Court and of the heavenly. He will make the good confession, not for His own sake, but for yours. He would not save Himself, but He will save others, precisely by going to the Cross. He shall climb the Hill of the Skull and allow the Devil to do his worst to Him until he is completely spent and Satan falls on his own sword.
For this is His victory; His defeat of death and hell and the powers of the devil. He has conquered. Life and death have contended in that combat stupendous. The victory remained with Life, Life Incarnate, Jesus Christ. And He bestows this victory upon you. It comes only by way of His Cross and Passion, by sharing in His death and resurrection, having fellowship in His persecution. It comes through the watery grave of Holy Baptism in which you are marked with His crucifix; drowned and died, buried with Christ and dead to sin, alive to God in the righteousness and purity of faith.
The Christian life is a fight, dear ones, as St Paul reminds young Timothy. Life lived under the Cross is lived in constant struggle. Not only against principalities and powers, but sometimes against flesh and blood; most often your own adamic flesh, clinging to your bones, stuck in your very nature. It is always easier to deny. Always easier to acquiesce. Always easier to remain silent. The flesh is weak. And it doesn’t merely want contentment, it wants luxury. It wants to boast of it own accomplishments and milestones; of perseverance and achievements, to brag about swords and manly oaths.
But the Introit for tonight puts into your mouth the prayer of St Paul, Far be it from me to boast except in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world (Gal 6:14). This is the good confession. It has been given to you in grace that you may speak it back to the Father and before men. The Lord opens your lips and your mouth declares His praise.
In faith you proclaim the victory of Christ in the foolishness of the Cross. For it is only in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ that the accusations of the Law are silenced. Only there can a guilty conscience be at peace through the blood which He shed for you. Like a gentle lamb led to the slaughter, the SinBearer, took into His own flesh your sins of flesh and soul, and put them to death. Endured the wrath of God and buried the condemnation of the Law.
And it is the preaching of the Word of His Cross that brings comfort to your grieving consciences and peace to your wounded hearts. By these He covers your nakedness with the robe of His own righteousness; the clothing of the Innocent Lamb who committed His cause to the Father. He judges righteously. Holy fast to His Word and promise; keep His it unstained and free from reproach. For in Him there is no shame or guilt. You are justified by faith in the Blood of Jesus Christ, your Passover Lamb. Take hold, dear ones, of the eternal life to which you were called.
And behold, it is here, reclining at Table with Jesus, your conscience accusing you, your weak flesh tormenting you, that in mercy and love He takes bread, and after blessing it with His Word, gives it to you saying, Take, eat; This is My Body. And so also with the Cup: This is My Blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. Once again this evening, dear disciples of the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, He bestows upon you the spoils of His victory; He gives you to eat the fruit of the Tree of Life, the Tree of His Cross. In Him is salvation, life, and resurrection from the dead; by Him are you redeemed at set at liberty.
In the Name of the Father and + of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.