True Greatness

From today’s reading of Luke 22 and John 13

But behold, the hand of him who betrays me is with me on the table. For the Son of Man goes as it has been determined, but woe to that man by whom he is betrayed!” And they began to question one another, which of them it could be who was going to do this.

A dispute also arose among them, as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. And he said to them, “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.

“You are those who have stayed with me in my trials, and I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom, that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.” – Luke 22:21-30 (ESV)

We now enter into the accounts of the last supper Jesus would have with his disciples prior to his passion. The urgency of his final teachings to them is heightened, and in response we see the somewhat understandable confusion and denial of these men who were closest to him.

I can almost hear the conversation following Jesus’ shocking revelation that one of them would betray him to the authorities. Does it seem strange that they move straight from questioning who it might be to arguing about which of them is the greatest? This no longer seems strange to me. I imagine the conversation went something like this:

Disciple 1: One of us will betray him? Could it be me? . . . . no, I don’t think so. I wonder if it’s you? I’ve always questioned your loyalty.

Disciple 2: Me? No, I would never betray him. I would go to prison and death for him!

Disciple 3: You? Neither one of you idiots knows what you’re talking about. No one worked harder on our mission trip through the towns of Israel than me. Did you see how many people I healed?

Disciple 2: Did you see how many demons I cast out? I think I made the greatest contribution.

Disciple 1: You are both delusional. I’m in his inner-circle. I’m certain to be given the greatest position of power next to him when he comes in his kingdom.

And so on. It’s not hard at all for us to move from wise self-inspection to unwise comparison of ourselves to those around us.

I admit it: I want to be great. I have dreams of greatness. I fantasize about being wiser, stronger, and braver than I am, of doing deeds that people will talk about after I’m gone. I’m no better than the disciples; In my best moments I know I’m capable of denying and betraying the Lord, but my best moments are few and far between.

In his amazing grace Jesus doesn’t kick them all (or me) out of the room. Instead he says this:

“You are those who have stayed with me in my trials, and I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom, that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.”,

This is an absolutely amazing statement. “You are those who have stayed with me in my trials,” he says to those that he knows will very soon abandon him completely in the midst of his greatest trial. But this is the grace of our Lord. This is true greatness: Jesus. He is the God above all gods, the Man above all men, the one who not only saves us from all of our sins and foolishness but who will graciously fit us to reign with him in his glory. This is his last supper with them before his passion, but he promises them that they will eat and drink with him again in the kingdom.

In other words, they are all about to forsake him, but he will never forsake them. This is greatness. He is about to do everything, absolutely everything that can be done for their salvation, and he is going to restore every one of them but one to the true greatness that he has destined them for in a new mission, building the true kingdom in the power of his Spirit, each of them humbling themselves as the dregs of the earth so that the world could be turned right side up again through the good news of Jesus. This is greatness.

Glory Hallelujah!

All of it

From today’s reading of Matthew 26, Mark 14

And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head. There were some who said to themselves indignantly, “Why was the ointment wasted like that? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they scolded her. But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.” – Mark 14:3-9 (ESV)

I love these close, tender moments in the gospels. This episode is one of the last of its kind; almost immediately after this the plot already hatched by the Jewish leaders is put in motion, and Jesus will be arrested and killed. That adds an incredible poignancy to what is described here.

John 12 tells us that the woman who broke the alabaster flask is Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus. She is the one who sat at Jesus’ feet while her sister bustled about, she is the one who wept in the house when Jesus arrived to grieve for her brother Lazarus and to show God’s glory. She is the one who groaned through her tears “if you have been here, my brother would not have died.” And she witnessed as our Lord commanded death to flee and called her brother forth to life.

Jesus rode into Jerusalem in kingly procession just a few days before this dinner in Bethany. It seems that only Mary understands that a King deserves anointing, even at the expense of a year’s worth of a laborer’s wages. Her King deserves absolutely all of the precious ointment poured on his royal head, a head that would very soon be bloodied by the blows and the thorns of those he came to save. Her King deserves all her love, all her devotion. All.

Those of a more practical mindset (John 12 implicates Judas in this) were more focused on the loss of 300 denarii that might have been used to more noble, less wasteful purpose. The Lord Jesus will have none of it.

“Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”

Such honor from the Savior of the world! I’ve written before of my respect and admiration for Mary’s sister Martha. Here Jesus honors Mary with kingly decree. She has done a beautiful thing for him by anointing his body beforehand for burial.

Everyone else has missed that. You get the sense that they are all thinking about next week, next month, where they were going to go, what they were going to do, continuing on in the ministry with Jesus. The plan of the Father is about to blow that to pieces. Jesus is about to die and be buried and rise again. There is no next week, at least not when it comes to their plans. Everything is about to change.

It’s time to throw plans and schemes aside, our system of priorities, our trust in our own abilities to evaluate what’s important. Jesus has made it clear: where the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her. Yes, because what she did was amazing and she was unfairly raked over the coals for it by those who should have known better. Yes, because Jesus loves to exalt those who have been placed low by the world’s system. Yes, because it was a beautiful act of love (and the only act of true perception recorded here) toward Jesus himself.

But also because in her act the gospel and a right response to it is beautifully depicted. The one who has brought the dead to life is anointed for his own death and burial, not with just part of what she has at hand but with all. He will be raised and in him so will she, and so will we. What manner of love is this?

Break the jar. Pour the oil, all of it, over the beloved, blessed head of our Savior.