SURELY, NOT I!
Matthew 26:20-50
I was marooned in a seemingly forsaken place, or so it felt. I did not know anyone. The place was isolated from life. The nearest village was miles away and I had to walk several kilometres to the nearest bus pickup point. There was no running water or electricity. The amenities of life I had so taken for granted were noticeably absent. Most traumatically, I was far away from home. I had chosen to come to this place to teach and the other teachers and students were nice enough. But there was no one to really talk to. I had never felt so lonely!
I began to look forward to the letters from family and friends. Those were moments of pure ecstasy and release. For a short time each week I could pretend that I was far away among people I really knew and in the hustle and bustle of the city life I knew so well. Those letters were my lifeline.
But all that changed one day. I looked at the envelope. The return address told me that it was from someone I really cared about. With great anticipation I ripped open the envelope and began devouring the contents of the letter. The mood and words in the letter began to depress me. And then a line jumped out at me and (if words could) grabbed me. It said: “You are a traitor!”
Me a traitor? How can this be? Why would someone I love so much say such a horrible thing to me? Impossible! Surely, not I!
I can now fully resonate with the disciples as, quite out of the blue, Jesus blurted out these words: “I tell you, the truth, one of you will betray me!” (vs 21)
In these words of Jesus, every disciple discovered that he was a potential traitor. In a generalising way that we would find abhorrent, Jesus had turned all of them into possible traitors. I can imagine the sense of shock and disbelief that hit the disciples. Their faces turned ashen grey. Their demeanour became sullen and downcast. Their joy at celebrating the beloved Passover totally deflated. I must confess that Jesus’ timing was really terrible. Even if what he said was true, could he not have waited till at least after the supper was over? Why ruin their robust appetite so dramatically? Yet there it was, “One of you will betray me!”
When Jesus uttered these words, the disciples’ world turned upside down. Now they began to think of themselves in an unpleasant new way. Every disciple suddenly thought of himself as a potential traitor. And each one took turn to vehemently disavow such a possibility. “Surely not I, Lord?” (vs 22) Even Judas Iscariot, the true traitor, made the same claim. “Surely not I, Lord?” (vs 25) Filled with a sudden rush of conflicting emotions, the embattled disciples could not be certain of their own motives. Perhaps some high speed introspection occurred. For, it must be recognised, how well do we really know ourselves? Is it possible that we might actually do such a dastardly act, given the right circumstances? I am certain that the disciples sensed this possibility, a feeling made all the more acute by their disavowal. Perhaps also, at the back of their minds was the suspicion that someone in the group could actually do this. Afterall, how well did they really know each other? How well do we ever really know those around us or even those we live with? Given the right set of circumstances, could somebody we love actually betray us?
Perhaps open betrayal was not the main failure of the disciples. Maybe Jesus, using such hyperbolic language, was giving them warning of a more incipient danger. While the specificity of only one traitor is made known, the disciples were warned that they could all potentially fail Jesus. He told them: “This very night you will all fall away on account of me.” (vs 31) Certainly it only takes one disciple to openly betray Jesus, but, are there other ways of letting Jesus down? As the story would pan out, when the mob came to arrest Jesus that night the disciples, without exception, fled. Jesus did not label all of them traitors, but he certainly warned that they were all potential failures. In the final analysis, did the eleven fail Jesus any less than Judas did?
The disciples’ position in this tragic episode was further compounded by their insistent claim of undying love for Jesus. First it was Peter who said: “Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will.” (vs 33). Peter went even further in his vain attempt to profess this undying love for Jesus. “”Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you!” (vs 35). All the other disciples joined in this disharmonic refrain. All were equally anxious to prove that they could and would never let Jesus down (vs 35). Yet the events that transpired that night would reveal the disciples’ “betrayal.”
It is true that only Judas betrayed Jesus, but when it mattered most, all the disciples failed to be there for him. Jesus begged the disciples to pray for and with him (vss 33-39). That was the darkest hour of his life. As he began to feel the full impact of the sins of the world, Jesus felt the need for some seriously committed human fellowship. What Jesus needed most that night were his friends. To their disgrace, the disciples not only failed to grasp the enormity of Jesus’ struggles, they actually fell asleep just when he needed them most. Imagine the pain in Jesus’ voice as he asked them, “Could you not keep watch with me for one hour?” (vs 40, also vs 45) I am about to give my life for you! How about one hour, just one hour for me! Was the act of uncaring sleep any less a betrayal than the kiss of Judas?
Perhaps betrayal does take different forms and the most common form may simply exhibit itself in a lack of caring. Someone really needs us but we are asleep instead. We know we should be there for others but we find excuses for being elsewhere. We know we should stand by our friends but we find the experience too demanding. Maybe, just maybe, it really is easier to simply fall asleep. This is also true in our relationship with God. We do not have to run to the authorities to betray Jesus, we simply have to “sleep.”
But I dare say that the most difficult lesson for the disciples and for us is the simple fact that only a friend can betray someone. If someone is an enemy, animosity is the expected relationship. However, we do not expect our friends to turn against us. We certainly do not expect our loved ones to betray us. Whether you think of betrayal in the Judas sense or in the sense of the sleeping disciples, such an act can only be performed by friends. I imagine this was what pained Jesus even more deeply. To realise that the eleven failed him was far more hurtful than the selling out of Judas. As I read the episode, I sense that Jesus was fully prepared for Judas’ horrible act. I also sense a measure of surprise at the inability of the eleven to stand by him. I can almost feel the tremendous sadness in Jesus’ voice when he returned from prayer the third time and found the disciples still sleeping and asked them, “Are you still sleeping?” (vs 45)
When I first read this episode, I was filled with a sense of revulsion at both the treachery of Judas and the indifference of the eleven. Yet upon more careful reflection I have come to the realisation that, under the circumstances, I might have acted just the same. I might have been Judas or one of the eleven. I dare say that this is the most sobering introspection humanly possible.
What a tremendous relief it must have been when the disciples heard these words from Jesus: “Rise, let us go! Here comes the betrayer.” (vs 46). A huge load must have rolled off their shoulders. They were not traitors after all!
The eleven disciples discovered that they were not traitors. While this must have been good news they surely were saddened to learn that Judas, one of them, was the traitor (vss 46-48). They must have watched in dismay the manner of his betrayal and this must have sent shudders through their spines as they contemplated the possibility that it could have been one of them. Perhaps this made their innocence all the sweeter. What good news it must have been for them.
Furthermore, they also learned about divine acceptance in the midst of human failure. Jesus said to them (when he could have just as easily abandoned them to their own devisings), “Rise, let us go!” Throughout this encounter we witness a God who would not let his people go. Earlier that night Jesus had assured the disciples of his abiding presence with them (vs 32). He would not abandon them even if they should fail him. Jesus had encouraged them to “watch and pray.” (vs 41) He had sought to protect them from themselves and from their potential failures.
Most significantly, he had engaged them in mission when he asked them to get up and go with him. Their failure to be there for him was not used against him. Their potential treachery was not measured against them. The only thing Jesus cared about was to keep them engaged with him and with his mission. This was love at its very best. This is a picture of a God who refuses to give up on his people. We may fail him and we may even betray him. His style dictates that he never leaves us alone or treats us as we deserve.
That fateful night the disciples not only saw love at work, they witnessed grace at work as well. When Judas and the mob arrived at Gethsemane to forcefully arrest Jesus, the betrayer planted a kiss on Jesus as a sign of guilt. In such a dark relational hour, Jesus still referred to Judas as “Friend.” (vs 50) Imagine the disbelief of the eleven! Friend? How could Jesus call him friend? Why reward a traitor with such empathy? But that is the way of Jesus. That is the way of God. That is grace!
Every disciple of Jesus needs to learn this all important lesson: God’s grace is greater than our failures. It is because of grace that we have hope. It is because of grace that we have salvation. It is because of grace that we have eternal life. Everything that the gospel brings, every piece of good news we possess, is made possible because of grace. We should think of grace as God calling us friends even when we betray him. Grace is the glue that binds us to Jesus. Grace is the unbreakable bond between a Father and his children. Grace is the power of God to redeem the unworthy, the unloving, and the treacherous.
God’s grace is encapsulated in a simple Hebrew word that appears in some rather significant promises. The word is ‘zb, which means “to leave, to abandon, to forsake.” This word can be applied to different levels of abandonment. At its simplest level it means “to leave,” whereas at its most advanced level it means “to forsake” or “to betray.”
When it comes to the advanced form of abandonment, God makes these promises:
Ps 27:10 says that your mother and father may abandon you, but the Lord will take you up.
Ps 37: 25, 33 promises that God will not abandon his people to their enemies.
The most important text in my estimation is Deut 31:6, 8. In this passage God makes an astounding promise: “I will never fail you or abandon you.” The two types of “betrayals” present in Gethsemane will never be seen in God. Unlike Judas, Jesus will never betray us. Also, unlike the eleven, Jesus will never fail us. There never will be a time when he will not be there for us.
This is why every believer can say with assurance that we may fail him, but Jesus will never fail us. We can say that we may even betray him, but Jesus will still call us friend. “Surely not I, Lord!” The only guarantee is that it is surely not HIM!
