"Questions from the Upper Room, Part 4 - "Judas' Question: Why Tell Us?""
Jesus gives a task to His disciples - and to us.
Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Dr. Andrew Stirling
Sunday, March 30, 2003
Text: John 14:22-31
Recently, I was driving along the Don Valley Parkway at the usual average speed of about 10 kilometres per hour, and being completely bored, turned on my radio. To my surprise, I heard a song that I hadn't heard for some 25 years. It was Billy Joel playing a piece from his "52nd Street" album, a piece that I suppose was the anthem of the hedonists: "Only the Good Die Young." As I tapped my foot on the accelerator to the beat of the song (realizing just how dreadful the words really were) my mind turned to the original saying that was its foundation.
I began this series on questions from the upper room four weeks ago with a quote by Daniel Defoe. I begin this last sermon in the series with a similar quote. In his book on Dr. S. Annesley, Daniel Defoe wrote these wonderful, though somewhat cynical words:
The best of men cannot suspend their fate:
The good die early, and the bad die late.
These are cynical words indeed. They make many of us who hear them wonder whether there is any justice in the world - any virtue or goodness, any victory in morality. In fact, if the good die young, what is the point of being good?
Now, the disciples in the upper room with Jesus were maybe not as cynical, but definitely had the same basic concerns. As we have seen over the last three weeks, they were honest and John records them asking challenging questions to their Lord and their Saviour, not least of which is the last question, uttered by Judas. Now, "Judas" in John's Gospel always has a parenthesis after it - not Iscariot. There must be no confusion. This was not the Judas who betrayed Jesus. On the contrary, at this point he was leaving the table. No, this was another Judas, that some gospels, to make sure there is no confusion, call Thaddeus or the brother of James.
And so, this character Judas, of whom we know so little, piped up and articulated what I'm sure all the disciples were thinking: "Lord, how is it that you will manifest yourself to us, and not to the world?"
In many ways Judas' question reflected a profound sense of honesty and optimism. He asked: Why us? Why are we so privileged? What virtue do we have that we should hear your great plan and the way that you are going to lead us and the path that is before us? But there was also that negativity. There was that tinge of doubt behind the question as well: Why us? Why are you putting us in this position? Why do we have to carry around the burden of hearing that you are going to die? Why are you going to leave us? Why don't you tell the world?
By asking that question he reflects in many ways precisely the sentiment of Philip in the question we looked at last week. For I believe that Judas wanted a theophany, he wanted a big bang, he wanted Jesus to do something magnificent so that those in the upper room wouldn't need to do anything more. He wanted Jesus to reveal for the whole world that He is the Son of God and God's kingdom comes down with the clouds of heaven upon humanity.
Very often, my friends, just like Philip last week and Judas this week, we ask the same question. Why doesn't God just solve all the problems of the world? Why doesn't, to quote the psalmist, God "bring down ten thousand chariots" and get rid of the unjust? Why do we not have glorious scenes in the sky of God's revelation, as on Sinai? Why? Why not reveal yourself to the world and let everyone see what we believe?
Throughout Jesus' ministry, He always avoided doing just that by making a very clear statement. You'll find it in the temptations, for example. When the devil came to Him and said: "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, 'He will give His angels charge of you,' and 'On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.'" And Jesus said to him: "Begone, Satan! You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only shall you serve."
The devil said to Him: "If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread."
Jesus answered him: "Man shall not live by bread alone."
Jesus knew that if the true power of God's glory were revealed in all its fullness, not only would we all die, but there would also be no need for faith. We would be automatons carried away by the power of God - in awe, blinded by the light of God's glory. No faith. No freedom. And, in many ways, no real life either. Jesus knew that for the power of God, even in His incarnation, to be revealed, there must still be some mystery to it. It must in some way be mediated. In this glorious moment in the upper room Jesus is taking the disciples to one side and telling them what they have to do. For in His answer to this great question from Judas is the very purpose, the very raison d'être of the Church of Jesus Christ. The words of Jesus in response to the disciples when asked: "Why us?" seem to me all the more poignant today.
In so doing, Jesus is revealing the purpose of discipleship. He had a glorious time with the disciples in that upper room. It was His last chance to be truly present with them - to reveal His plan and purpose and, as we shall find out next week, to pray for them and with them. This was a moment of incredible love, a moment of embracing.
When I was listening to the choir sing that serene and powerful anthem by Handel this morning, I closed my eyes and as I did so, (and I'm not prone to this) I had a vision. I pictured Peter and James and John and Judas and Philip and Jesus linking their arms around a table, and in the midst of them, us. In the midst of the love that they feel in Jesus Christ there is this profound sense of embracing the world.
And the disciples then, as those who experienced the love and the power of the Spirit, were to take the very experience that they had - of the embracing love of God - out into the world. Their very purpose was to bear witness to what Christ had done. By their words they were to proclaim the power and the love and the grace of Christ. Everything they had heard in the upper room, everything they had seen in their lives with Jesus, they were to give testimony to. And that testimony would live for hundreds and even thousands of years. In that moment, they realized that their purpose was to bear witness to the love they had experienced in the upper room.
Jesus tells them this. He not only tells them that they are to bear witness, He tells them that they are to manifest this very experience in love. That the way that they live, the way they manifest their ministry, the power they ultimately will be given is for the purpose of sharing with the world the love of the Father through the Son to the whole of humanity. Jesus is not going to perform some great, big, powerful event. Jesus is calling the disciples to keep their eyes on Him and to bear witness to Him in the world. You will notice He does not tell them that everything is going to be easy. He does not try to placate them or give them a sense that everything is going to go smoothly. He says: "Peace I leave with you... Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid."
It reminds me of a delightful story from Charles Swindoll about the problems experienced by fisherman in the northeast United States (and having lived in the Maritimes I can readily identify with this). The problem was how to transport their cod to the rest of the world and the west coast in particular. For years they had frozen them, but after thawing the fish was rather stringy and bland and had lost a lot of its texture and moisture. So, instead they built ships where they could store the live fish in great big vats full of seawater. The only problem was that the cod got lazy and sort of atrophied. Finally, when they were eaten they had again lost their texture and flavour and were kind of puny. So one day, someone came up with a bright idea (and this is true) to put a catfish in amongst the cod, because it is its natural enemy. So, they put a catfish in the tank with the cod - and the cod swam hard to keep away from the catfish. When they arrived at their destination they were fit, strong and virile and when they were cooked, they tasted magnificent - all because the catfish had chased them around the tank.
Well, my friends, we, too, have catfish in our lives - chasing us around in our tank! The disciples had catfish - metaphorically speaking - swimming around in their tank. But what happened? It made them stronger! It gave them a greater sense of resolve and a greater sense of faith and reliance on Jesus Himself. So, even in the midst of difficult times they were stronger and their faith sustained them. In one of the most beautiful and touching moments in the whole of the New Testament, Jesus looked at them and said: "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live."
When Plato lost Socrates, his great master, he described his feelings as like being orphaned. To be an orphan is a dreadful thing.
During the children's moment at the early service this morning, I showed the children a picture of children from an orphanage in Durban, South Africa, all of whom had lost their parents and were alone in the world. Children with smiling faces needing someone to look after them. I talked about our "Beads of Hope" campaign and how we are trying to the best of our ability to help those who are suffering from AIDS, because there are so many orphans right now in that country and on that continent.
There will be orphans throughout the world as a result of the events that are taking place right now. There will be soldiers not going home, leaving behind children without fathers and mothers - we need to pray for them. There will be children in Iraq who likewise will lose their parents and become orphans - we need to pray for them. To be an orphan is a terrible thing.
The disciples must have felt that with Jesus leaving they, too, were going to be orphans, but He said: No, I'm going away but to make sure that you are able to meet your purpose, this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to give you power.
Jesus knew that His incarnation, His earthly ministry was coming to an end, but there was still something more: that the Father and the Spirit were going to be recognized in His ministry. Jesus said: "These things I have said to you, abiding with you. But the Comforter, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and will bring to your remembrance all which I have said to you."
Now, Jesus was not giving them an insurance policy - not like the man who said: "You know you're having a bad day when you are sitting in a hospital with your leg in a sling and your neck in a brace, and your insurance agent comes to visit you to tell you that your policy covers you for falling off a roof, but not for landing on the ground!"
My friends, the disciples must have felt they were sliding off one great big roof at that moment! But Jesus would be there when they hit the ground. He said:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. You heard me say to you, 'I go away, and I will come to you.' If you loved me, you will have rejoiced, because I go to the Father; for the Father is greater than I. And now I have told you before it takes place, so that when it does take place, you may believe. I will no longer talk much with you, for the ruler of this world is coming. He has no power over me; but I do as the Father has commanded me, so that the world may know that I love the Father. Rise, let us go hence.
In other words, when the Spirit comes, you're going to have power and you will know me. Not only will you know me but, as intimated earlier, you will do even greater things than I. Not that the disciples were greater than Jesus, but that they would be able by virtue of their numbers and travel to extend the domain and range of Christ's ministry, so that the world would know, in all corners, around its whole circumference, of the love of God in Jesus of Nazareth. That through this ministry they will do great things and that when the Spirit comes upon them all they have to do is ask, all they have to do is pray and the Spirit will be there to help them. They will not be orphans.
Jesus said to them: "If you ask anything in my name, I will do it." When was the last time, my friends, that you took the time actively to ask for God's guidance and strength in your life? When was the last time that you petitioned from the depths of your soul for the power of God's spirit to be released in the world and in your hearts and lives? For Jesus knew that the Comforter could in fact do even greater things than He could do in the flesh. And so, in obedience, in remembering what He had said and listening to His words of instruction, the disciples' point of reference whenever they struggled with a moral issue became: "What would Jesus do?" When they struggled with injustice: "Where is Christ's righteousness?" When they struggled with temptation: "Where is the Spirit's grace?" And when they struggled with powerlessness to change the world, to call on the name of the Comforter, the Advocate, the Holy Spirit who carries on Christ's work. And this remains true for us, His disciples in this time.
What are we to make of these last four weeks we have spent in the upper room? We've heard some eternal questions. You and I might ask them time and time again. We might ask Peter's question: "What is Jesus really doing and why won't He just get on with things?" We might be like Thomas and wonder "Where is the way?" We might be like Philip and say: "Show us the Father." We might say as Judas did: "Why us?"
We might have, like disciples ever since, questions for Christ. We might wonder how all of this relates to the other peoples and the other faiths in the world. We might question where Christ fits into the whole of God's working in the last 2,000 years and His role in salvation. We might wonder what the Church should be like as it goes into the future proclaiming Him.
We might have many questions for Christ, but there is something that we do know: He is the way and the truth and the life. In the mystery of all that, we cannot ever say that we are the way or the truth or the life. When we face the uncertainties of the road ahead, we do know that He is the way.
There was a glorious song in the Lord of the Rings sung by Bilbo Baggins and it is repeated over and over again. A song that I've always loved from J.R.R. Tolkien, a great Christian:
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
We do not know what tomorrow brings, but this we do know and must proclaim: That wherever the road leads, Christ is the way and whatever happens, His spirit is with us. Alleluia. Amen
This is a verbatim transcription of the original sermon.