Tag Archives: Maundy Thursday

God Forgives Even Judas

The band U2 has a song which is sung from the perspective of Judas. In one of the final verses of the song Judas is meeting his demise and says, “I reached out for the one I tried to destroy. You, you said you’d wait ‘til the end of the world.” I’ve always found the song interesting as it is one of the few forms of art in which we are presented with Judas’ perspective. I often think about Judas during this week and on Maundy Thursday in particular. In many ways I find him far more complex and “real” than how some of the other disciples are represented.

Yes, Peter denied Jesus three times after he insisted he would never do such a thing, and then eventually finds reconciliation with Jesus after the resurrection. And John was seemingly faithful till the end, being one of the few who stayed near Jesus until his death. But how often is it that in life, circumstance, temptation, “stuff happening” reveals we are a little more like Judas? Some who may be reading this will surely say, “Speak for yourself, Rev. Nick.” I don’t mean to generalize and lay blanket statements, but I’d like to think I have a little understanding of the human condition. And for many on the day before Good Friday we find ourselves contemplating and confessing our own sins.

I think what fascinates me about Judas was that he was set to be the fall guy before he had any idea of who Jesus even was. Just as God had hardened Pharaoh’s heart against the Jews (Exodus 9), God also had a specific role for Judas to play in the salvation history of His people. Staunch Calvinists would state that this is who God is, a God who elects those who will receive mercy and a God who elects those destined for punishment. Luckily, I’m not a staunch Calvinist and find myself as more of a Christological optimist. In other words, I think more of Jesus.

Back to that lyric, the one where Jesus’ reply to a desperate Judas is to say that Jesus would wait till the end of the world to intervene. How Easter of Jesus. I rather like that. I can’t imagine the lead singer of U2 is a scholar of early church history, yet this lyric makes me think of the teaching of the Early Church Father Origen, one who taught the theory of apokatástasis.

“Ok Rev. Nick, first U2 lyrics, then empathy for Judas, and now crazy Greek words?!”

Apokatástasis means a return to the original order, before sin; a doctrine that teaches a time will come when all will share in the grace of salvation. Remember, Jesus is the Second Adam who came to make right what the first Adam made wrong. Jesus brings life to all just as Adam had brought death to all. In the end when all is said and done, God reconciles and brings all things back into the fold, even Judas. And that my sisters and brothers is a very hopeful thought as we enter the bleakest time in our church calendar.

In Jesus, not only is Peter forgiven, but even Judas is given his reprieve. God’s “YES” engulfs and swallows up our “no.” Sure, many of us may not be betraying the savior of the world, but we do mess up a great deal, at least I know I do. I’m not advocating that we use this grace as a license to sin (the books of Jude and Hebrews warns against that), but I am suggesting that no matter your circumstance, no matter what you’ve done, no matter your shame, no matter what, in the end you are still God’s beautiful child, you are still loved, and you are reconciled.

~Rev. Nick


P.S. –

I want to apologize to those who were attempting to join the Wednesday night Bible study via Zoom and could not. Zoom had an update yesterday that created a few extra hurdles in joining the meeting that were not originally there when the Bible Study was created. I am sorry for those who had difficulty. These matters should be resolved and we hope to resume next Wednesday in a regular manner.

The Holy in the Midst of the Profane

 

Jesus is flogged. Sculpture at the Sagrada Familia, Barcelona by Michael Bledsoe
Jesus is flogged. Sculpture at the Sagrada Familia, Barcelona by Michael Bledsoe

Journeying through Holy Week is also a journey through the profane.  If there is something “holy” then by necessity there is something profane.  Each term is identified by what the other is not.

I encourage you to take those salacious headlines about the profanation of the White House by its current occupant; take the rumors of war and the unyielding refusal of communities to hold accountable those who murder Black citizens (Sacramento and Baton Rouge only the most recent of a too-long list); take the suffering of the poor preyed upon by the hollow policies of politicians who cannot conceive that they might be called to hallow the world instead; take these to Golgotha. And of course, take yourself for all of us participate at some level in the ruin of the world.

We journey to the Holy while in the midst of the profane.  This is a stinging truth that culminates in the lynching of the Christ by Roman soldiers dedicated to the empire.  The consumer world around us spins toward Easter. We on the other hand travel with Jesus, to a solemn last supper, to a hill outside the holy city, Jerusalem, to a borrowed tomb.  Let us cry for our world, for ourselves and then by God’s grace, let us awaken on the third day.

Maundy Thursday Service is at 8pm at Westminster Presbyterian Church at 400 I Street. We will participate in a service of “stones of remembrance.”  I will be preaching and we will be joined there with Westminster and Christ United Methodist.  Easter Sunday we will worship at Jefferson Middle School at 10 a.m.  May we find our way to the Holy One this Holy Week. ~See you Thursday and Sunday

How To Begin Holy Week How to End Holy Week

salvador_dali_crucifixion
Holy Week begins this Sunday, Palm Sunday.
This is how to begin Holy Week: take one step toward Jerusalem, very carefully look for a Galilean whose face is set like flint and who holds in hand a trampled palm frond.
On Monday, be brave and ask him where he is headed.
 On Tuesday, offer him your pillow, because for three years, his head has rested on a stone each night.
 On Wednesday, do not say a word. Do not try to talk him out of where he is going.  Cry for yourself and all that is irretrievably lost in the world.  Then smell your favorite perfume or cologne and pretend you have anointed him for his burial even while he was taking bread from a leper’s hand.
 On Thursday, drink wine and rejoice in the presence of the Galilean and then look at it and think, this looks like blood.  Sing a hymn.  Worship with others if you can so you are not alone in the night, as he prays over there in the garden alone.
 On Friday.  On Friday.  On Friday.   Hammer a nail into a tree. In the evening of the Sabbath, weep because we killed the Son of God.
 Saturday, find some holy place in order to ponder how it is that humans always name holy ground after the most unholy things possible, like battle fields, cemeteries, and a hill of skulls called Calvary.
 On Sunday, when the sun dances along the edge of the horizon and birds sing doxologies worthy of Mozart, put on  fresh clothes and run to a holy place, so you can hear the news that Magdalene proclaimed first  . . . so you can hear the words that Magdalene proclaimed … so you can hear.
 Pray this all week long.  Christ have mercy.  Lord, have mercy.
In the Name of Christ let us walk now, bravely, fully, into Holy Week. I will see you on the other side of Friday.  Sunday is coming.
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