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February 27, 2002
Midweek Lent
Psalms 41:9
Pastor Joel Zank
A Faithless Friend Adds to Christ's Anguish
(Psalms 41:9) Even my close friend, whom I trusted, he who shared
my bread, has lifted up his heel against me.
In Christ Jesus the Friend of sinners, dear fellow redeemed,
Do you personally know anyone named Judas? I don't believe I've
ever met a person by that name. And yet in Jesus' day the name Judas
was one of the more popular names in all of Israel. In fact, of
the twelve men Jesus chose as disciples, two were named Judas. But
nobody names a child Judas anymore. I suppose for the same reason
that we don't name schools after Benedict Arnold. Thanks to the
actions of one Judas Iscariot, the name Judas has become synonymous
with the word "traitor" In fact for some people, the mere
mention of that name stirs up feelings of anger and disgust. Did
you know that in some countries Christians use firecrackers to blow
up Judas in effigy as part of their observance of Lent? Judas has
become a person that people love to hate.
It wasn't always that way. There was a time, brief though it was,
when Judas had the distinction of being one of Jesus' closest friends,
and oh how Jesus worked to keep it that way! Tonight we'll look
at their friendship through David's prophetic eyes in Psalm 41.
There David shows us how A FAITHLESS FRIEND ADDS TO CHRIST'S ANGUISH
by the trust he betrays and by the injury he inflicts.
Was Judas ever really a friend of Jesus? Listen again to how he's
described: "Even my close friend, whom I trusted, he who
shared my bread, has lifted up his heel against me." We
know these words refer to Judas because Jesus himself quotes them
in John chapter 13 at the Last Supper just before he predicts his
betrayal. And even as Judas' act of treason unfolds in the Garden
of Gethsemane, Jesus still addresses him in this way: "Friend,
do what you came for." (Matthew 26:50).
We have no reason to believe that when Judas began following Jesus,
he was any different than the rest of the disciples. Like the others,
he was waiting for Israel's Messiah. He wasn't a "once-a-week"
sort of Christian. He was so drawn by Jesus' message that he was
willing to leave everything else behind, his home, his family, his
career, and literally follow Jesus wherever he went. We have no
reason to doubt that Judas was genuinely amazed and excited by the
miracles he saw Jesus perform. He wasn't some mole, some spy secretly
planted by the Pharisees or Sadducees to infiltrate and sabotage
Jesus' ministry. He was a sincere believer, though sinful and flawed,
just like the rest.
If you find all this 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. Granted, he wasn't part of the inner circle of disciples
like Peter, James, and John, but he was trusted enough to be given
charge of the group's treasury. He was trusted enough to receive
the Savior's complete course of seminary training. And when it came
time for the disciples to be paired up and sent out for their first
taste of mission work (Matthew 10), Judas was there. Jesus trusted
him to care for lost souls. With his partner, Judas went from town
to town, proclaiming the precious gospel of Christ. Like the others,
Judas must have experienced the rush of excitement that comes from
seeing people taste God's grace and forgiveness for the very first
time; and like the others he too must have learned firsthand the
pain of rejection when people despised the good news he preached.
Think of the bond all of this forged between Judas and Jesus! Where
Jesus slept, Judas slept. Where Jesus ate, Judas ate and as I say
this, let's try to understand the significance of that particular
privilege--the privilege of breaking bread with Jesus. Christian
writer, Brennan Manning comments, "Sadly, the meaning of meal
sharing is 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 eleven
men who followed Jesus. In fact, he was not a bragger like Peter,
nor a vengeful man like James and Jon, nor a doubter like Thomas.
But he did have his faults. Judas loved money, so much so, that
he helped himself to the money in the disciples' treasury, and for
love of money he would betray his Savior's trust.
Could you or I be Judas? Look at us. Our presence here tonight indicates
that our hearts, like his, are drawn to follow Jesus. Like Judas
we desire to be more than just "Once-a-week" Christians.
Like him we have been entrusted with responsibilities. Jesus has
trusted us to serve him in our homes and perhaps in some way here
at church. Like Judas we know the peace, trust, fellowship, and
forgiveness of eating at Jesus' table, for these are exactly the
gifts he has given us together with himself in his Holy Supper.
Like Judas, Jesus has made us his trusted friends with whom he has
shared every blessing.
Since we are so much like Judas, I have to ask: What little flaws
like his are lurking in our hearts? Like his our flaws are not so
little are they? But how tempted we are to underestimate the power
of our sinfulness. We take great pride in qualifying our sin with
that phrase, "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. No one was hurt by it." "It was just
a little too much to drink. Nothing I can't control." "It's
just a little theft. No one will even know that it's missing."
Do you suppose that Judas tried to walk off with the disciples'
entire treasury right from the start? No, he took just a little
here and there. In the same way we minimize and rationalize our
sin, whatever it is. We coddle and convince ourselves that deep
down where it counts we're still pretty good. Don't be fooled! The
same potential that led Judas to betray our Savior's trust and in
the end exchange faith and life for eternal death, is not so dormant
and not so hidden inside 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. Sin can lead us friends of Jesus straight to hell.
Could you or I be Judas? Oh yes, we often are. But here's the better
question: Could you or I love Judas? Jesus did. More amazing than
Judas' betrayal of Jesus is Jesus' love for Judas. "Friend"
he calls him, even in the Garden of Gethsemane. Just think, Jesus
knew of Judas' plot to betray him even before Judas did, and for
months he dropped hints and gave warnings. Who of us would waste
our time with a guaranteed loser? 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, in spite of the
fact that he knew Judas would fall. Such love that was big enough
to embrace Judas with compassion and forgiveness is big enough to
embrace you and me no matter how often, no matter how severely we
have betrayed our Savior's trust.
We have considered the great harm Judas caused himself, but how
did this faithless friend add to Christ's anguish. For the answer
to this question we again turn to David's prophecy: "Even
my close friend, whom I trusted, he who shared my bread, has lifted
up his heel against me." Judas added to the Savior's anguish
by the great injury he inflicted.
How vividly David pictures this sin. 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. Knowing this, David portrays Judas'
act of betrayal as the lifting up of a heel, in other words, as
a mean- spirited kick, the kind someone delivers when a victim is
already down on the ground, hurting and helpless.
But how could that be? Judas didn't slap Jesus in the face and
spit on him as did the members of the Sanhedrin. Judas wasn't among
those who whipped Jesus until the skin was torn from his back. He
didn't push the crown of thorns into Jesus' brow or drive the nails
through the Savior's hands and feet. His only physical contact with
Jesus was the kiss that marked Jesus as the one to be arrested by
those who sought to kill him.
It may have only been a kiss, but I would think it had to be one
of the most painful injuries inflicted upon our Savior in the hours
leading up to his death. We know from experience that we are most
hurt by those who are closest to us. If a stranger insults us, we
don't pay much attention to his words. He doesn't even know us.
If a long-time enemy attacks, what else should we expect from an
enemy? But when someone close to us turns on us, that wound runs
deeper: the closer our relationship, the deeper the pain.
Jesus counted his disciples closer to him than his own family,
and yet 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 actually became a part of the plot to murder
his Lord. Don't think for a moment that such betrayal of the Savior's
love and trust didn't add to Christ's terrible anguish.
Nor should we think that Christ's prior knowledge of such treachery
somehow lessened the blow, or for that matter, Judas' guilt. Jesus
knew what was coming. He had announced that it was coming. He could
have gone to some other place in Jerusalem to pray and alluded his
enemies. But that would not have changed Judas' heart. Nor would
that have benefited you or me. Earlier we mentioned the Savior's
love for Judas, love that offered an opportunity for repentance,
love that offered forgiveness to the very end. It was such great
love on the part of Jesus-- love for all us faithless friends that
moved him to endure the anguish of this betrayal. Here Jesus takes
another step toward perfectly fulfilling the Scriptures. Here the
suffering and payment for our sins begins. Here, in Jesus' pain
from a trust betrayed and a friendship rejected, we find that God's
grace will stop at nothing, it will endure everything--even the
cross, even hell itself to save us from our sins.
You know, the name Judas doesn't really mean "Traitor"
It actually means "praise." So even though we may not
wish to be called a "Judas" we will put the name into
practice and praise our Savior for the anguish he endured at the
hands of a faithless friend for no other reason than to make us
his forgiven friends forever. Amen.
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