Monday, May 13, 2013

Luke 22:39-54


Dear Theophilus,
Heavy times, indeed!  I can hardly imagine a room that would have been more somber.  Here they were, gathered for this feast, and despite the storm clouds gathering I anticipated it would have been a ray of light in the midst of that present darkness.  Instead, it seems as though there is more darkness than when they gathered.  Between betrayal and abandonment, I have to wonder about the selection of the disciples!  I know that you say all humans are designed that way, but it seems like it wouldn’t have taken much for Jesus to choose a few disciples that might have displayed a little more fortitude when the enemy bared his teeth!
Nevertheless, these are the men that Jesus chose, and I suppose he chose them for a reason, rather than just opting for the first twelve available men.  I do not know if any more conversation took place at the feast—I doubt that anyone had much to say after Jesus’ announcement that each and every one of them would betray him—so Jesus went, as he was used to doing, to the Mount of Olives outside of Jerusalem.  The disciples followed him, many of them certainly determined to prove to him that they would not fail.  Upon reaching the destination, he gave them a very specific instruction—to pray that they might avoid the trials that awaited. 
Jesus then went a bit farther and knelt down in earnest prayer.  He begged to God, calling him Father, for the cup to be removed from him, but in the midst of his desperate plea he had the humility to submit his own will, offering up his own life if it was God’s will.  It has been rumored that his own strength was failing and that he found himself renewed by an angel, causing him to pray even more fervently, so passionately, in fact, that his sweat was like blood when it splashed upon the ground.  I doubt such a detail, but perhaps it is true.  For a man who wonders whether or not God is even up there, it’s a bit much to imagine an angel offering strength to someone praying to him. 
Theophilus, I’ll admit that I’m a bit skeptical about prayer, and the next bit doesn’t do much to contradict my belief.  Having concluded his own prayer, Jesus got up and found the disciples, the determined eleven, asleep at the watch, exhausted from grief.  Jesus scolded them, asking them why they were sleeping, exhorting them to get up and pray as he had told them.
But it was too late.  Such prayers, if offered, would go unanswered, for a crowd appeared as the words still hung upon the crisp, evening air.  A crowd of any size would have been unexpected at this hour, thus the disciples had to be gripped by fear when they realized that the crowd was for Jesus, and for them, too.  Surely, they would have looked to Jesus for courage, and whatever strength he had, be it angel-sourced or not, seemed to have been transferred, for the disciples asked Jesus if they should attack with the sword.
One of them, not willing to wait for an answer in the face of the threatening crowd, raced forward and cut off the right ear of one of the slaves of the high priest, but Jesus stopped further violence with a cry, “No more!”  In a move more compassionate than most of us could ever imagine, he reached forward and supposedly healed the man’s ear, the slave of a leader of the crowd present to arrest him.  Such power used for such a small act of mercy in the face of one’s enemies must have left some sort of impression on the crowd, even a crowd as malevolent as this one.
At the head of the crowd was Judas, the betrayer, the disciple-turned-enemy.  He went forward to kiss Jesus, the signal in a dark place that this was their target, but Jesus confronted him, asking him if a kiss was how he intended to betray the Son of Man.  I have discovered no record of Judas’ reply, perhaps because it caught in his throat as he realized the totality of his actions. 
Jesus, surrounded by raging disciples and an angry crowd, could not help but ask the chief priests and other leaders of the crowd why they came armed with swords and clubs as though he were some violent criminal.  He reminded them that he had been in the temple daily, teaching peacefully, and yet they chose not to touch him there.  Yet under the cover of darkness, he offered, they found power in their time. 
They had little time or energy to listen to his words.  The crowd was angry and had a purpose, and with that purpose they seized him, leading him away like some trophy to the high priest’s house.  The disciples, that passionate crowd, determined to be faithful, are lost in this record.  The only one whom I could track was Peter, who trailed the crowd at a safe distance, ensuring he was not noticed but not willing to admit that all was lost.
Here we are, Theophilus.  These waters are above me.  My investigations lead me onto the Mount of Olives, where I find record of one who observed the man at desperate prayer, and I discover an angry mob, armed to the teeth, ready to strike the man down.  I am unsure what to make of all of this—I know that Jesus spoke plainly and openly attacked the leaders, but to bring an armed crowd under the cover of darkness seems extreme.  I know that you know what happens next, and I await your reply.  I find myself caught up in the story, but I am sure you will include what it all means as well!
Sincerely,
Luke 

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