Lent Midweek 2

SERMON 2: LENTEN MIDWEEK 1 "He was numbered among the transgressors" Luke 22:14, 24-38 Think with me for a second about what these words could mean: "I didn't mean to do that!" If you say it a certain way: "I didn't mean to do that," or "I didn't mean to do that," you're saying that your choices made something happen-but you had no intention of causing that. But if you say, "I didn't mean to do that," there's a little wiggle room in that statement. Something bad happened, and you didn't mean to do that-but you realize that you could have stopped it from happening, or maybe worse-you really should have known better. "I didn't mean to do that ... " Have you ever watched a certain type of car wreck happen? Some accidents are like lightning, no warning, and so on. But there's another kind of wreck, and a while back I saw one, and the driver didn't mean to do that, but he really should have known better. There was a red light up ahead: clue #1. The light had just turned red and the green left turn arrow had come up: clue #2. It was busy morning traffic and everyone was trying to get somewhere. I was thankfully not in the turn lane. I know what happens when everyone is in a rush to get somewhere and there came a moment when I realized that I was watching a wreck happen. You know how it can feel like slow motion. I saw the driver start moving with the green arrow and the driver in the cross street, desperately trying to beat the red light that had already come up. Thankfully, there were no serious injuries. But that driver who sped through a light that had just changed knows how it works, a red light for you means a green light for someone else-that driver should have known better. I can imagine him saying to the police officer and then to his insurance company, "I didn't mean to do that." But he did it. The reading from Luke 22 for tonight reminds me of watching a wreck as it's starting to happen. The apostles-Jesus's handpicked inner circle-are there with him in the upper room. And the reading gives us a sort of back and forth, forth and back between the disciples and Jesus, Jesus and the disciples. But it's painful to watch, and in a way it's frightening. The evil at work in the events leading up to Jesus's passion and death ... well, the disciples are participating in that evil. They are engaged in folly, and they are arrogant. But they should have known better. Let's spend some time now in these verses and watch the spiritual wreck as it unfolds before our eyes. As we hear in Luke again, "A dispute also arose among them, as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. 25 And he said to them, "The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. 26 But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. 27 For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves." If I can be a little bold here, the disciples might be described as ... stupid. A more biblical sounding word would be "folly." They are caught up in utter folly. There in the upper room, after Jesus has instituted the Lord's Supper and predicted his betrayal, they get into an argument about which of them is the greatest. How did this happen? It's hard to reconstruct it, so we won't try, and Luke doesn't want us to do that. He only wants us to see the evil of their folly. And it is evil. Did they mean to do that? Did they mean it for evil? In one sense, probably not. But what about the other sense, where they really should have known better? Yes, they should have known better. They're arguing about who is the greatest ... while in the upper room with the one who actually is the greatest. And Jesus has taught them, and he has showed them what true greatness really is. And so, Jesus has to teach them-again. He tells them that they're acting like pagans, like Gentiles, like worldly power brokers and big shots. That's the evil way of thinking about "greatness." And then in verse 26, the ESV translation offers Jesus's words, "But not so with you." That's a good translation. A literal, wooden one would be, "But YOU- not like that!" In this unexpected reign of God that Jesus has been bringing, and of which they have been a central part, status and importance are turned upside-down ... or maybe right-side-up. Jesus is right there, reclining there with them at table ... he tells them that he will take the place of the one who serves at table. Did they "mean for this to happen," for their hearts to get caught up and twisted and focused on a breathtaking folly and evil? Yes-because they should have known better. Still in the upper room, we keep watching the wreck as it unfolds before our eyes. In verses 28 through 38, Jesus first comforts and then he warns his disciples-Simon Peter and then all of the others. But they reject his warning, and they shrug off the master's words. The only thing to call it is arrogance. Pride. Boastfulness. Let's take a look. Jesus begins with comfort. The apostles are Jesus's chosen, inner circle. They've been with him, and there they are, still with him-for a few more hours, at least. And Jesus makes a remarkable promise about their future; he promises them a share in his kingdom, in his reign. In fact, on the last day the holy apostles will in some mysterious way participate in the judgment. Without taking away from Jesus's unique identity as the judge of the living and the dead, the twelve will sit on thrones as they judge the twelve tribes of Israel. That's what Jesus says! You get a glimpse of this remarkable future promise to the twelve in Revelation 21, with the vision of the new Jerusalem on the last day. When the new Jerusalem comes down from heaven, and this earth is renewed, that city will have twelve foundation stones to match the twelve gates. And on the foundation stones are written ... the names of the twelve apostles. Mysteries, here, to be sure, and I can't explain everything that Jesus intends to say. But what a promise! Why does Jesus make this promise here, now, that night, in the upper room? It's to strengthen and steel the apostles for what is coming, and so after the promise he warns them about what is coming. To Simon Peter, Jesus speaks directly-very directly. Satan is present, Satan is active, Satan is powerful, and he is after not only Simon Peter, but all the apostles: "Simon, Simon, Satan has desired to sift you (it's plural, "all of you"), to sift you like wheat." And it's going to be hardest thing they've ever known. But Jesus's prayer for Simon will mean that after the time of trouble, Simon will turn again in faith, he will return to faith and then he must strengthen the others. Jesus is warning him. But Simon rejects the warning. "I'm ready," he says, "to go to prison, and even to die with you!" What? Jesus just told him that he'll be blasted and twisted ... but that the time will come when he will turn again to faith in Jesus. But Peter says, "No. That won't happen. I'm ready." He says that to Jesus's face. Did Simon Peter mean to do that evil? Yes-because he should have known better. He should have listened to Jesus, right there in front of him. And Simon keeps on not listening when Jesus says, "You will deny me three times today before the rooster crows." Peter is not listening; Peter is proud, but that night, when the rooster crows, then he remembers. And his pride is gone. And he weeps bitterly. The folly and the arrogance don't stop. Jesus turns to the others and asks them to remember how he sent them out to minister and do miracles (it's in Luke 9)-and how all their needs were met when they went out in his name. And they remember. "We lacked nothing, Lord," they say. But now it will be different, Jesus says. Evil is coming. Evil is ... present. And the one perfect man, the one truly innocent man, the master will be counted among transgressors. It's written in Isaiah. It must come true, and it will come true. So-Jesus says, "Be ready. Prepare yourselves. You're going to need a sword!" Is the Lord of gentleness telling them to arm themselves? No-no he's not. Luke's alone is the gospel that tells us that Jesus not only stops the sword swinging in Gethsemane, but Jesus then immediately heals the wounded man. He's not telling them to arm themselves. But that's how they take it because they're not listening. They don't realize that Jesus is warning them, trying to prepare them for how hard it's going to be. But just as Peter thought he was ready, the rest of them say, "Look! We've got two swords already!" And what is the tone in Jesus's voice when he replies? I'm just guessing, but I think it's a sad and weary voice: "It is enough." Enough with your boasting, with your arrogance, enough with your folly. I'm trying to tell you-but you're not listening. Evil is coming. And they should have known better. And their evil is in the room, with Jesus. And yet-God is not letting that time in the upper room be wasted. It's not just a time of misunderstanding, of folly and arrogance. As we watch the wreck unfolding before our eyes, we see God's plan unfolding, and we see God using evil to move his plan forward. The disciples didn't mean to do that ... but they should have known better. But God knew better still, and he meant it all for good. Ponder this with me. The disciples' folly is like a sign-a huge, unmistakable arrow-that points away from them ... and right at Jesus. Who is the greatest among them? Who even understands what true greatness is? While they bicker and fight, only one understands. The folly is all around him-and he stands out so wise, so strong, so lowly, and so great. He is among them-Jesus said that. He is among them as the one-the only one-who serves. The disciples' arrogance is like a piece in a puzzle. It's not the center of the puzzle, thank the Lord. But their evil is part of it, and it fits right into the plan, right into the pattern taking shape as Jesus moves toward the fulfillment, as he says, the fulfillment of what is written about him. That pattern will bring the great, wise, serving, innocent Son of God into the midst of sinners, of transgressors. That's Isaiah's prophecy: "He was numbered with the transgressors." And as Jesus said, it must be fulfilled in him. When Isaiah is fulfilled, it will be like a rock that is dropped in a pool of water ... and you can watch as the circles get larger and larger. "He was numbered with the transgressors"-yes, and there will be one evildoer on his right, and one on his left. He was numbered with the transgressors-yes, and there at the place called "Skull" all around him are the religious leaders and soldiers mocking him, goading him, telling him to save himself and be the greatest. But Jesus has come not to save himself, and in God's way to be the greatest. He was numbered with the transgressors ... and the circle widens, and reaches back into the evening before, back into that upper room and there are more transgressors with Jesus in their midst-Simon Peter, and the other apostles. He was numbered with the transgressors ... and the circle widens and reaches out into the future, all the way to tonight, to this room, and here are more transgressors with Jesus in our midst. Jesus overcomes the evil in my life and in your life. He overcomes it by coming into the midst of it and dying. He lets the evil win and do its worst so that it can't do anything anymore, and he entrusts his spirit for a time into his Father's hands. And the Father honors his Son and raises him from the dead and Jesus overcomes the evil. It can't do any more damage; it did all that it could, and Jesus still won. And risen from the dead, Jesus has authority here tonight, to forgive your evil and mine, and to keep us in his care all the way to the day of his glory. When you're in the middle of a wreck as it's happening, it's hard to see things coming. But sometimes God does help us see it-and I see my stupidity in how I am comparing myself with you and thinking that somehow, I'm greater than you are. Yes. Sometimes God helps us to see our arrogance, our pride, our thinking that we can even walk down the street without the mercy and strength that only Christ gives. It's hard to see it coming-but sometimes God makes that happen, and we praise him for it. And so, I invite you to ask God for that kind of honesty and humility, to ask God's mercy to see the folly coming, and to turn away from pride. And in doing that, Jesus alone will receive all of the glory. But sometimes we go into that evil, don't we? We judge each other, we live as though we were the masters of our own fate, the lords of our days and our schedules and our wallets and our relationships. "I didn't mean to do that. But I did it anyway." When that happens, remember: "You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good." And pray that God will take my folly and your pride and turn it into a sign, a huge, bright arrow that points us-away from ourselves, and points us to Jesus. He was numbered among the transgressors. He is here, among us for good. In Jesus, God meant it all for good. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.