Encountering the Word
Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, “What will you give me if I betray him to you?” They paid him thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him. On the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?” He said, “Go into the city to a certain man, and say to him, ‘The Teacher says, My time is near; I will keep the Passover at your house with my disciples.’” So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them, and they prepared the Passover meal. When it was evening, he took his place with the twelve; and while they were eating, he said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.” And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, “Surely not I, Lord?” He answered, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that one not to have been born.” Judas, who betrayed him, said, “Surely not I, Rabbi?” He replied, “You have said so.” [Matthew 26: 14-25]
Contemplating the Word
Yesterday we contemplated John’s depiction of this fateful evening; today we read Matthew’s. Matthew emphasises that Jesus is in control of the situation. He knows precisely what is happening. He knows where he will celebrate the Passover with his disciples. He knows that the disciples will meet ‘a certain man’ who will allow them to use his house. He knows he is being betrayed and he knows by whom. Does he know why Judas is betraying him? The account doesn’t say. Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Betrayal is betrayal, no matter the reasoning.
We are a long way from the electric moment at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. There, Jesus stood with the man who baptised him and who knew who he was, and the Father spoke and the Spirit descended. In today’s scene Jesus sits with his friends, but they have no comprehension of what is going on. Jesus is, to all intents and purposes, alone. John the Baptist is long since dead, and the Father and Spirit remain silent.
It won’t be until it is all over that the Trinity will explicitly manifest itself again. The Son will cry out to the Father and in so doing will pour out the Spirit. But there is a lot to happen before that final moment. God’s plan for our salvation will need to come to completion.
God’s plan has been ever-present down through all the ages of humanity. From the moment when God sent our first ancestors on the quest to learn to search for him, God has been calling us back to himself. How to do this without compromising our freedom has been God’s constant preoccupation. God doesn’t want slaves: he wants free, loving, sons and daughters. So his plan needed to be as subtle as a heartbeat. We had to be left free to turn towards him or to turn away. He invites us and he lets us choose.
There have been moments throughout history where it has seemed as if all had been lost. The terrible devastation that human beings can cause to one another and to the world can come close to obliterating hope. But God’s plan is not only as subtle as a heartbeat; it is as relentless as a drumbeat. Nothing can stifle it: not our failures, not our sin, not suffering and not death.
It is this truth that we contemplate over these days.
Being the Word
Who do you and I think we are, if we think we can contribute in any way to what God is seeking to do in the world? Why would God choose us, since in so many ways we are inadequate? These are the sorts of questions that have always plagued people of faith. St Paul wrestled with these questions, aware that his own personal history revealed how inadequate to the task he was. In the end, he could only trust that God knows what h
