Is it I?

 Jesu Juva

St. Mark 14:12-26                                                                   

April 1, 2021

Holy Thursday B                            

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          The question before us on this holy night is short and simple, but, oh, so critical:  Is it I? 

          It was time for the Passover meal and Jesus had left nothing to chance.  Every detail of that night had been carefully planned and scripted.  Every word that Jesus spoke that night was clear, specific, and deliberate.  This night was no time to improvise.  Jesus was in complete control. 

          As the meal got underway, and as their fellowship found expression in that ancient entrée, Jesus dropped a bombshell that would fray and fracture that fellowship:  Truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me, one who is eating with me.  One of the Twelve—one whom Jesus had called to follow Him—one whom Jesus had taught and blessed and loved—one who ate and drank and laughed with Jesus—one who had witnessed the wonders He had worked—such a one would betray Jesus.

          This new prediction must have devastated the disciples.  One of you will betray me.  There had been previous predictions concerning His Passion.  At least three times Jesus had told them plainly that He would be handed over, condemned to death, crucified, and after three days rise again.  He had singled out the scribes and the chief priests; He had alluded to the role the Romans would play.  But now—now Jesus had revealed to them the most terrible truth of all:  One of you will betray me.

          St. Mark tells us that the disciples were immediately overcome by sorrow and grief.  They were completely shattered.  And one by one—one after another—each disciple asked:  Is it I?  Is it I?  Is it I?. . .  Notice, there’s no bluster or bravado here on the part of the disciples.  No one gets indignant.  No one objects.  No one says, “That just can’t be true, Jesus!”  But cut to the heart, filled with sorrow, each man considers the possibility.  Each man asks:  Is it I?

          Why did Jesus tell them?  Why did Jesus tell them at the table—moments before He would transform that Passover meal into something totally new—why does He say:  One of you will betray me?  Surely, He’s not just showing off His divine omniscience one last time.  Perhaps it was one last, loving chance for Judas to come clean and fall on his knees in repentance, declaring, “It is I.  I am the one.  God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”  But instead, “The Son of Man goes at it is written of Him,” and woe descends upon His betrayer.

          No one is mentioned by name in tonight’s text—no one except Jesus.  It’s all Jesus.  Judas isn’t named.  Peter isn’t named.  In Saint Mark’s telling of the Lord’s Supper, not one of the disciples is mentioned by name.  By omitting the names, Mark tells it in such a way that we are drawn into the drama. We are there.  We take our place at the table with Jesus, and we hear the terrible truth of our Lord’s betrayal, and our hearts are broken, and we take our turn to ask with all the rest:  Is it I? 

          Is it I?  It could be.  It has been.  For far less than thirty pieces of silver have we set off on the sinful path of self-destruction.  For nothing more than a sly, Satanic promise (“You shall be like God”) have we turned our backs on the Son of Man.  For nothing more than cheap thrills have we closed our ears to His Word and hardened our hearts to His love.  So why did Jesus say it:  One of you will betray me?  Perhaps He says it as much for us as for the Twelve—for all of us who dare to gather with Jesus for the sacred meal of His body and His blood—that we might first consider our unworthiness—that we might discern the depth of our depravity and our drive for self-destruction—that we each might say with sorrow:  It is I.

          But we can’t stop there.  For when we are at our worst, Jesus is most gracious.  When we are most selfish, He is most giving.  As He prepares to be destroyed in our place, He begins to undo the destruction of our sin.  And He does it all ON THIS NIGHT.  ON THE NIGHT WHEN HE WAS BETRAYED.  Each celebration of His Holy Supper commences with that mysterious phrase:  Our Lord Jesus Christ, on the night when He was betrayed. . . .  On the night when His friend betrayed Him—on the night when Peter denied Him three times—on the night when His disciples snoozed as Jesus agonized in the garden—on the night when every last one of His feckless, faithless followers fled away into the darkness—on that night—on this night—Jesus took bread and wine and gave us a gift of love that will last until He comes again.  May we ever pause to ponder and wonder at these words of amazing grace:  On the night when He was betrayed.

          Then and there, our Lord took bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it and gave it to the disciples and said:  Take, eat; this is my body, which is given for you.  Then He took the cup and gave it to them, saying, Drink of it all of you; this cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.  This do as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.  Nothing left to chance.  Every detail planned and scripted.  Every word clear, specific, and deliberate.  Jesus is in complete control—both then and there . . . and also here and now. 

          The Son of Man goes just as it is written of him.  By Friday afternoon He is a corpse on a cross.  He dies the death for sin that was ours to die.  He does it in our

place.  Our sin has been answered for and can condemn us no more.  We are forgiven.  Jesus has done it all for you . . . and still more.  For in His Holy Supper—in the New Covenant of His body and His blood—He draws you into fellowship with Himself.  He gives you all that He achieved with His body and blood—by giving you His body to eat and His blood to drink.  What He won for us on the cross, He gives away here tonight in this sacred Supper.

          Jesus tells us the truth of our sin.  He strips away our pride.  He destroys our self-confidence.  He causes each of us to ask:  Is it I?  But He does it all to teach us that our deliverance from sin and death does not—could not!—depend on us, but on Him.  All we can do is confess the mess and bemoan the betrayals we have instigated—and then listen to His Words and His promises, and receive what He gives.  For no part of your self-destruction is beyond the reach of Jesus’ forgiveness and healing.  He remembers your sins no more.  Nothing can separate you from Him.  He invites you to His altar, as His family, for a share in His fellowship that even death and hell cannot destroy.

          And so I ask you:  Who?  Who could ever be worthy of such a tremendous gift of grace?  It is I!  It is you!  Who could ever be forgiven so much?  It is I!  It is you!  Who could ever be loved so much?  It is I!  It is you!

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.