St. Luke Ev. Lutheran Church of Watertown

Sermon delivered by Pastor Anthony E. Schultz

Lenten Vesper #3. March 10, 2004 Luke 22:48

 

But Jesus asked him, “Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?”

 

People of God—rescued from the flaming lake of fire in hell by the innocent blood of the very Lamb of God:

In April of 1775 there was fighting in Lexington and Concord. The American Revolution had begun in earnest. Blood was being shed by those who wanted to make this country free! There was in New Haven, Connecticut a druggist—a pharmacist—and small businessman who said—“Good grief! Are the Americans all asleep and tamely giving up their liberties”? This drug store man persuaded the city council to supply the gunpowder and the metal to arm an army, which he led to Boston to fight! This little drug store man was soon a colonel and then a Brigadier General. He was a military genius—a fierce fighter—and a man who loved money. This pharmacist loved money even more than he loved his men and his country. So he wrote letters to the British—offering to hand over the fort at West Point and its 3,000 defenders for 20,000 pounds sterling—about $1 million dollars today. Alas, the plot was discovered. The British contact was captured—convicted of being a spy—and sent to the gallows. The pharmacist escaped to the British—but his name—Benedict Arnold—has for the last 200 years plus been a synonym for traitor and betrayer! It is tempting to think—bad, bad—these traitors and betrayers. To say with all the disciples—“Surely, not I Lord!” But it is I who have betrayed Jesus and so have you. Tonight—as we continue our cross-examinations—Jesus asks Judas the pointed question—

Are You Betraying The Son of Man With A Kiss?

1.      Look into your own traitorous heart

2.      Then look into Jesus’ forgiving heart.

At the top of the Mount of Olives today there is a cemetery. It is not a grassy hilltop—with stone markers—head stones—engraved with the name and the birth and death date of the person buried there. The top of the Mount of Olives is covered with creamy stone. The burial plots are each marked with large stone boxes—just a little larger than a coffin or casket. The body is buried—in the ground. But above the body is this stone box. People who come to visit there don’t bring flowers, bouquets or potted plants. They mourner places a small rock or stone on top of that large stone box. Over time you can tell who has been visited—the pile of stones growing larger and larger. Those who are seldom seen—have few stones on top. There is a winding road—a winding path—to the bottom of the Mount of Olives—toward the city of Jerusalem. At the bottom of the Mount there is an olive grove—the olive trees—old and twisted and gnarled. Jesus had come there often. There he prayed—with such earnestness—such passion God’s Word says, “His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.” Have we ever prayed like that? Do we break a sweat—praying—talking to our Heavenly Father? Do we even remember to pray? Do we say, “Come, Lord Jesus…”—when we have our bowl of Cap’n Crunch—our breakfast bagel—our glass of no pulp please orange juice—our cup of fresh brewed flavored coffee? Or do we scoop our cereal and gulp our juice because we are running late? Do we say, “Come, Lord Jesus…”—when we have lunch in the lunchroom at the factory? Do we say, “Come, Lord Jesus…”—when we are having lunch from our little plastic cooler—with hands that are dirty from hard work—and our mom would tell us to wash them—but our mom isn’t there—and we don’t have time? Do we say, “Come, Lord Jesus…”—at supper—or are we in front of the TV or there is such anger and stress at the supper table—that nobody wants to talk to anybody—much less invite Jesus to have to listen to it? Do we say, “Now I lay me down to sleep…”—or are we so tired from a long and frustrating day—that when we finally do go to sleep—our head hits the pillow and we are asleep! Jesus prayed with a profound earnestness—because Jesus knew exactly what was going to happen. Jesus knew all that he would suffer to save us.

The Gospel of John contains an eyewitness account. “Now Judas, who betrayed him, knew the place, because Jesus had often met there with his disciples. So Judas came to the grove, guiding a detachment of soldiers and some officials from the chief priests and Pharisees. They were carrying torches, lanterns and weapons. Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went out and asked them, “Who is it you want?” “Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied. “I am he,” Jesus said. (And Judas the traitor was standing there with them.) When Jesus said, “I am he,” they drew back and fell to the ground. John 18:2-6 Who is in charge here? Is it the officials from the chief priests? No! Is it the detachment of soldiers armed with swords and clubs, lanterns and torches—come out to capture Jesus? No! It is the traitor Judas—the one who knew the Master—and knew the place? No! Jesus is always in charge! “Who is it you want?” Jesus of Nazareth. That would be me! And bang—they are all pushed back. They all fall to the ground. No one—absolutely no one could stand before the innocent Son of God. It was by grace alone—that the ground didn’t open up and swallow these arrogant and ungodly men who came after Jesus like some common and dangerous criminal!

Luke’s Gospel says, “Judas approached Jesus to kiss him, but Jesus asked him, “Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?” Even before it happened—Jesus knew. He knew that Judas had come to betray him—with a kiss. Warmer than a handshake—this close personal greeting was what you expected from a dear friend! How many friends do you have? I know over 1300 people at Saint Luke’s—650 from Trinity in Dundee—100 from Peace, Loves Park. I know some Trinity people, St. Mark’s and St. John’s. I know people from Immanuel in Campbellsport. I know people at Apostles in San Jose and St. Paul’s in Columbus, OH. I know people at Luther Prep and Lakeside. I know a couple of thousand people. But friends—in the most powerful sense of that word friend—someone that would get up at 2 or 3 in the morning—if you can car trouble—and they would drive all the way to LaCrosse—to get you—and not resent it? People who know you weaknesses—your flaws—your shortcomings—and they love you and always, always, always forgive you? People that would defend you—stick up for you—protect your reputation no matter what? People that would suffer hurt to protect you? I think about my students in Nigeria—if a robber had come with a shotgun to rob us—I have absolutely no doubt—a couple of those students would have physically put themselves in harm’s way to save me. That is a friend! That is a precious gift from Jesus! Jesus was Judas’ friend! Jesus loved Judas very much! Judas loved Jesus, too!

But something went horribly wrong. The opening verses of the chapter we are concentrating on today say, “Now the Feast of Unleavened Bread, called the Passover, was approaching, and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were looking for some way to get rid of Jesus, for they were afraid of the people. Then Satan entered Judas, called Iscariot, one of the twelve. And Judas went to the chief priests and the officers of the temple guard and discussed with them how he might betray Jesus. They were delighted and agreed to give him money. He consented, and watched for an opportunity to hand Jesus over to them when no crowd was present.” Satan entered Judas. Like a horrible worm—the devil bored into Judas’ heart and mind and soul. The problem with Judas had nothing to do with the outside. It have everything to do with the inside! The year after I was born—a lady named Alberta began a project—where she went and found twelve men—whose faces looked the way she imagined the twelve disciples looked. They was an accountant, a machinist, a student, a salesman. When I was little I had a book of these portraits. There was Simon Peter—this guy with big shoulders and strong arms—with red hair and a big red beard. He looked like this chop off Malchus’ ear—then run for your life. This Iesus, I will die with you—then cursing and swearing—I don’t know this man! There was Thomas—this man who looked thoughtful—like I want to believe. I want to understand—but how can I be sure? Lord—we don’t know where you are going—so how can we know the way? There is John—this strong but gentle man—with tender eyes that seem to say—what wondrous love the Father has lavished on us—that we should be called children of God—and that is what we are! The last portrait is that of Judas Iscariot. He is a mean and nasty looking little man. He has thorns painted behind him for a backdrop. And his hair is like thorns—all black and twisted. He has a black and nasty beard. He has little snake eyes. His arms is across his front as if to protect himself. I doubt that Judas looked like that at all. The older you become—the more you realize—evil is not something you can see on the outside. Evil takes hold of you on the inside—deep inside. If you could see evil on the outside—all you would have to do is round up all the nasty looking people and that would put an end to hurtful behavior. But it isn’t nearly that simple.

Look inside your own heart—and you will find not just the potential for great evil. You find evil. You find horrible hurtful traitorous sin! I heard the other day about a fight that broke out in a buffet line—a salad bar—where they have all those bins with salad—cut up chunks of lettuce—then little bins of sliced mushrooms and shredded cheese and genuine artificial bacon bits and all sorts of salad dressings. Somebody bumped into somebody. Somebody pushed into somebody and made them dribble salad dressing on their sleeve. Somebody pushed back. Then somebody cursed. Then somebody got really irritated and threw a hand full of macaroni salad at somebody and then everybody was throwing food and cursing and kicking and scratching. And this was the buffet in a nursing home. And the people that were fighting were in their 80’s and 90’s! And we smile. Like how silly is that! But you know what? That was a sin! It is sinful to push back—to curse and swear and poke somebody with your cane or knock over their walker! It’s wrong for people to push and shove in the hall at school. It’s wrong for people to push and shove in line at the grocery store. And it’s wrong to have a food fight in a nursing home! It’s wrong when we become so angry and upset in our heart—even if we don’t lash out with actual physical violence. We sin in our heart when our thoughts are bitter and angry! Jesus knows our hearts—even better than we do. Jesus knows our hearts—and forgives all the gross and horrible evil that lives there.

If you ever go to the Saratoga National Historic Park there is a monument—a statue in the shape of a soldier’s boot and leg. It marks the spot where Benedict Arnold was horribly wounded during the Battle of Freeman’s Farm. Benedict Arnold had just led a brilliant charge against British soldiers who were dug in. Benedict Arnold was severely wounded—bleeding terribly—pinned beneath his own horse! The horse was ok. It was while he was recuperating from his wound—that something went horribly wrong in Benedict Arnold’s heart. Where was the recognition he deserved? Where was the glory he had earned? Where was the praise he expected? His wonderful beginning as a patriot and hero was ruined by his terrible and tragic end! So it was with Judas Iscariot. Three years at Jesus’ feet—learning law and Gospel from the very Son of God—still ended in horrible eternal tragedy. A good beginning is a wonderful thing. Baptism and Sunday School and Day School and Confirmation. But the race has only just begin—the battle has only just begun. The devil will continue his withering blistering attack. If Satan can succeed in doing such spiritual harm to one of the twelve—are we not all in mortal danger? There is sanctuary only in Jesus’ forgiving blood. There is forgiveness for Jesus’ sake—the innocent put to death to rescue the guilty! Look long and hard into your own heart—and you find unspeakable evil. Look into Jesus’ heart and you will find compassion, mercy and forgiveness for every sin. We will not despair because Jesus’ love will never fail us. Amen!

To God alone all glory!