Lenten Midweek II:
“Return to the LORD: Return from Betrayal”[1]
March 3, 2021
Text: 2 Sam. 15:12, 17:1-4; Acts 3:14-19; John
18:1-11
“Return
to the LORD your God” (Joel 2:13; ESV).
Return from betrayal. “Repent
therefore, and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out” (Acts
3:19). You have betrayed… and you have
been betrayed. You have betrayed others,
and you have betrayed your God and Savior, Jesus Christ. Betrayal is part and parcel of the fallen
human experience. You know how it is to
be betrayed. Someone close to you, whom
you thought to be a trustworthy confidant, reveals a secret you have told
them. Someone you thought loved you
gossiped about you, spreading damaging rumors, lies, or perhaps even truth that
harms your reputation. A friend or
coworker stabbed you in the back for their own advancement or protection. They let you take the fall for something. Somebody pretended to be close to you, got
what they wanted out of you, and then discarded you like yesterday’s
trash. Now, you are probably thinking
about very real examples of this in your life.
Perhaps the pain is even more acute… betrayal by a parent, a child, or a
spouse. It hurts. It kills you.
It breaks relationships. Betrayal
is tantamount to murder. It is to sin,
not only against the 8th Commandment, you shall not bear false
witness, which means that “We should fear and love God so that we do not tell
lies about our neighbor, betray him, slander him, or hurt his reputation, but
defend him, speak well of him, and explain everything in the kindest way”[2] … but it is also a sin
against the Fifth Commandment, you shall not murder, which means of course that
we should not hurt or harm our neighbor in his body, but also that we should
not in any way embitter his earthly life, but rather help and support him in
every need that pertains to that life
You know what it
is to be at the receiving end of such betrayal, but if you honestly examine
yourself and evaluate your own life, you can undoubtedly think of examples
where you have done these very things to others. And in any case, you know that by your sins
and your selfishness, you have done these things to your Lord. Peter’s preaching cuts us to the quick: You
delivered Jesus over and denied Him in the presence of Pilate… You
denied the Holy and Righteous One (Acts 3:13-14). He is talking to the Jews present in the
Temple at that moment, of course. But he
is also talking to you and me, who by our sins, handed our Lord Jesus over,
nailing Him to the cross, murdering Him, so that we could be our own
lords. That is what we do when we
sin. We betray Jesus to death. Repent.
Sin
precipitates betrayal. This is
illustrated by our Old Testament reading in the story of King David’s betrayal
at the hands of his beloved son, Absalom, and his trusted advisor, Ahithophel. This betrayal is a ripple effect of David’s
affair with Bathsheba. You remember the
story. David should have gone out to war
with his men, but instead, he sent out the troops, while he stayed comfy and
cozy and safe at home. Arising from his
couch after an afternoon nap, David went for a stroll on the palace roof, when
what to his wandering eyes should appear, but a gorgeous woman bathing outside
her home. And you know the rest. The affair.
The unplanned pregnancy. The
attempted cover-up scheme to bring Uriah the Hittite (a faithful soldier in
Israel’s army) home and get him liquored up so that he sleeps with his wife and
thinks the baby is his. And when that
doesn’t work, the murder, the order sent to Joab by Uriah’s own hand: “Put
Uriah where the fighting is the hottest, and withdraw so that he dies.” You can read about the whole thing in 2
Samuel 11 and 12. Nathan preaches Law
and Gospel to David, and leads him through Confession and Absolution, and
though David’s sin is forgiven, his child with Bathsheba dies. So David promises her that her second son,
Solomon, will inherit the throne of his father, David. And, as may be expected, this doesn’t sit well
with Absalom. Fast forward through some
other terrible family scandals including rape, incest, murderous revenge, and
exile, and Absalom has more than enough motive to betray his dad. He woos the Israelites into seeking regime
change. Oust his father. Get the throne for himself. And Ahithophel, David’s counselor, his
trusted friend… what a coup to get him on board. And Ahithophel had motive, too, and I bet you
didn’t know this. If you do, you didn’t
learn it in Sunday School, and it isn’t in your Children’s Garden of Beloved
Bible Stories. If you know this one,
bring me your Sunday School sheet, and I’ll give you a gold star sticker. Ahithophel had a granddaughter whose name was
Bathsheba!
Sin
precipitates betrayal after betrayal, which is to say, sin always leads to more
and more sin, and in some sense, sin is always betrayal of the one you are
sinning against, and it absolutely always is betrayal of your God. David was so heartbroken over the whole
business. And you can read his words
(and you did, you just prayed them) in Psalm 41: “Even my close friend in
whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me” (v.
9). David wrote those words about
Ahithophel. But we, of course, think of
Judas. And we are not wrong. For this prophecy is fulfilled when our Lord
dips the bread in the sop with His beloved disciples and Apostle, and looking
him in the eye, says, “What you are going to do, do quickly” (John
13:27).
Jesus
is no stranger to betrayal. We see Him
tonight in the Garden of Gethsemane, where He often spent time with His
disciples when He was in Jerusalem. And
He knew Judas knew the place, and He knew what would happen there that
night. But He does not hide. He does not seek to avoid it. “(S)hall I not drink the cup that the
Father has given me?” (John 18:11).
He goes where He knows Judas will find Him. And here comes that traitor with a band of
soldiers… Now, a band (which is to say, a cohort) is a tenth of a legion. And while it may not have been the whole band
that came out that night, this could be upwards of five to six hundred
soldiers, probably there in case Jesus’ arrest results in a riot. But it is an amazing thing, and there is
great irony in all of it, that this great army comes to arrest this one,
unarmed man (never mind His followers and their one sword… They are all
cowards, who will literally cut and run).
And then there is this beautiful irony, that they come out with lanterns
and torches. Now, they do this, of
course, because it is night time. We
understand the literal point of what is happening. But in pointing out this detail, John is also
playing on one of his favorite themes: Here stands the Light of the world, and
the forces of darkness need lanterns and torches to see Him, and they’re still
blind. “The light shines in the
darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). They think they can overcome Him by force
(and Peter thinks he can defend Jesus by force). But Jesus puts all illusions of control to
rest with two small words in the Greek: Whom do you seek? Jesus of Nazareth. “Ἐγώ εἰμι.”
“I am he,” your English translations say (John 18:5, 6, 8), but
that misses the mark of what He is saying.
Not only is He admitting His identity as the wanted man, but He is
saying of Himself, “I AM.” That is, He
is pointing to Himself and saying, “YHWH,” “I AM your God.” And it bowls them all over. Actually, it is a little sneak peak of
Judgment Day when every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is…
YHWH!... to the glory of God the Father (Phil. 2:10-11). And the point is, the soldiers come to take
control of Jesus, but in reality, Jesus is orchestrating this whole thing. The control belongs to Him. For He is God, and this is the divine plan of
our salvation unfolding as He has known and decreed that it would from all
eternity.
And
there is another detail not to be missed.
“I told you that”… I AM… “So, if you seek me, let these men go”
(John 18:8). Yes, arrest Me, YHWH… and
let the disciples run for their lives.
Let them live. But it is more
than that. In taking Me and crucifying
Me, in murdering Me, you must let those who are mine go free. That is what Jesus does with betrayal: Judas’
betrayal of our Lord into the hands of the soldiers, the disciples betrayal as
they flee in fear, and our betrayal every time we reject His lordship to assert
our own control.
Now,
don’t miss what this means for you.
This changes your life, and it has eternal consequences for you, because
you have been betrayed, and you have betrayed.
In the betrayal of Jesus unto death, you are set free from all of
that. “If you seek me, let these
go.”
You
know what Jesus does with your betrayal?
He forgives it! He pays the price
for it. He takes it into Himself, covers
it in His blood, and buries it forever in His tomb.
You
know what He does with your neighbor’s betrayal against you? He forgives it! He pays the price for it. He takes it into Himself, covers it in His
blood, and buries it forever in His tomb.
The betrayal you suffered at the hands of your neighbor, pales in
comparison, after all, to the betrayal Jesus suffered at the hands of your
neighbor, and the betrayal Jesus suffered at your hands. But He forgives it all. He atones for it all. He swallows it all into His death on the
cross.
And
now, what does your risen Lord do for you, who have lifted up your heel against
Him? He bids you come and eat bread at His
Table once again, His Body given into death for you, His Blood that covers all
your sins. Fully restored, fully loved,
you have a place in His in His circle of friends, in His family, at His Table,
always. This is why it was so tragic,
what Judas did to himself in his despair.
Because even Judas Iscariot was loved to the end by Jesus, and Jesus
died for Judas, for the forgiveness of all his sins, including the betrayal,
and so Jesus died for you, for all of your sins, including all of your
betrayals. So you need never
despair.
But
you can forgive your neighbor, and you should.
Yes, even that deep hurt, and even the Judas who refuses to be
reconciled. And you can because Jesus
did, and Jesus does. Sure, it
takes practice, and you have to consciously remind yourself again and again
that you’ve forgiven the one who hurt you, because the pain resurfaces. That’s life in this fallen flesh and this
fallen world. But this is why you pray
every day, and multiple times every day, “Forgive us our trespasses, as we
forgive those who trespass against us.”
It is a declaration, every time you pray, that you hereby forgive those
who have sinned against you, because God forgives you, always, and in every
case, for Jesus’ sake.
And
you can live in that forgiveness, every day, always. The guilt and shame of your betrayals have
been removed from you. Jesus has taken
them away. They don’t belong to you
anymore. They belong to Him. And He has done them to death forever. Return from betrayal. Repent, and return to the LORD your God. For He is gracious and merciful, slow to
anger, and abounding in steadfast love.
And in Christ, it is as St. Peter preaches: All your sins have been
blotted out. The sword has been
sheathed. In the Name of the Father, and
of the Son X, and of the Holy
Spirit. Amen.
[1] The theme and many of the ideas for
this sermon are from Eric Longman, Return to the Lord: Resources for
Lent-Easter Preaching and Worship (St. Louis: Concordia, 2020).
[2] Catechism quotes from Luther’s
Small Catechism (St. Louis: Concordia, 1986).
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