Holy Week 2022 Day 2: Luke 22:1-35
Day 2: Luke 22:1-35
One day, in the middle of my freshman year of college, my friend and I decided to take one of Buzzfeed’s infamous “Which one of _____ are you?” tests. The one we landed on taking together was the test titled, “Which one of Jesus’s disciples are you?” I was really excited. Surely I would be Simon Peter, I reasoned. Maybe my cerebral attitude would mimic James. Or maybe the way that I was would be close to John?
In a way that perhaps was too invested in an arbitrary nonsense quiz, I flew through the questions, and at the end of the page, clicked “Find out who you are!” The page loaded— and my heart dropped to the floor as I stared at the words,
“You are: Judas Iscariot.”
I don’t fully remember the next hour, but I vaguely remember erupting into tears and praying to God frantically before going down a rabbit hole on YouTube on how killers are made. I couldn’t believe it. Even as a joke, I would never be Judas? My whole week was ruined. I was JUDAS?! But I’m a faithful leader! I look to God no matter what! I weathered so many of the darkest seasons of my life and came out of them choosing God! JUDAS didn’t do that!
That was nearly nine years ago. Today, my perspective on Judas has shifted a lot. Judas was a man who faltered in his humanity and sin, and didn’t resist the lie of the enemy— maybe even receptive to it. See, it doesn’t say that Judas is demon-possessed— but Satan enters Judas, like a person enters a home that is open to their work.
Can I say that this would truly never be me? Wouldn’t that be counter-intuitive, even maybe the prerequisite to the folly that Judas experiences?
As freaky as that might be, the focus of this chapter isn’t Judas. Satan is about to have a field day, for sure, in seeing Jesus “fall,” but Satan’s work is never the center of the story, nor is his work victorious here.
The key is in the Last Supper, from the preparation of the plan to the way that Jesus and the disciples break bread and wine in remembrance of Him. This is pre-crucifixion, though it points to it, and if you can picture it, is a sign of deep intimacy as much as it is covenant. The moment is resounding— a completion to Exodus, when the blood of the unblemished, perfect lamb was spread over the doors of the Israelites so that the Angel of Death could pass over. Instead of a temporary fix, Jesus’ blood— the blood of the Perfect, Holy Lamb— is poured out once and for all. And this moment of intimacy, this holy intimacy over food and community marks the cutting of the New Covenant.
But what’s so amazing, what’s so painful, what brings me to my knees is that Judas is still here. Judas, the man that has succumbed to the whispers of destruction, the faltering close friend, confidante, and disciple, is still here with Jesus in this moment. He drinks of the wine, His blood poured out, and eats of the bread, His flesh broken for all. When a fight breaks out about who is the greatest, Jesus stops them and says, “It is not to be this way with you. Let the one who is greatest among you become as the youngest and the leader become as the one who serves. For who is greater, the one who reclines at table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines? But I am among you as one who serves.”
Simon Peter, the most faithful and passionate of all the disciples, is called out. Jesus reveals that Simon will deny him three times before the rooster crows. But before he says this, he exhorts him and lets him know that He has contended for his faith to stay standing: “Simon, Simon! Look! Satan has demanded to sift you like wheat. But I have pled for you so that your faith will not fail. When you turn, strengthen your brothers.” Jesus knows how these people are. He sees the ways that they will turn away from him, be it from letting the enemy take over or doubting the power of God. But his resolve is to love them and cut this covenant with them, so that their chains will be broken once and for all.
In light of this crazy love, Jesus’s words resound over my heart today:
“Do this in remembrance of me.”
I don’t think this is just an eat-and-drink command. I think Jesus is talking about more than the Supper. And His words resound in my heart today as I reflect and my heart breaks over the despair that Jesus must have felt as a person, even while His resolve to love us did not falter. I could only imagine what Jesus is experiencing here— I probably can’t even fathom it at all. But His love resounds in my heart as his command remains lodged in my throat:
“Do this in remembrance of me.”
Could we spend today remembering him? His love for Judas and Peter? His undying courage? Could we enter into holy intimacy with him today and just receive His Body and Blood? And could we do this, this witness, this walk, in remembrance of him? Could we walk where He stood? May this be our prayer today.
