You are welcome to reflect on this message
From The First Baptist Church in America pulpit
The Fourth Sunday in Lent – March 2, 2008
"The Enemy Within" (John 13:12-15; 21‑30)
Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

Any betrayal hurts. But it really hurts when it comes from someone you trusted. It’s a reminder that most of the time, any intimate group has more to fear from insiders, not outsiders. Judas was the stewardship chairman of Jesus' disciples. He handled the money box, and shared its resources wisely. They knew him and respected him; been with them through thick and thin; sat around campfires and slept under the stars together. When Jesus turned water to wine at the wedding in Cana, Judas was there. He was in Bethany when Jesus raised Lazarus from his tomb. And he just had his feet washed by the one who did all these wonderful things.

Judas was the last person suspected the night when Jesus shocked them: "Truly, I tell you. One of you will betray me." They were stunned. And they looked at each other; because nobody had any idea who Jesus was talking about. They all said, "Is it I?" It never dawned on them to say, "Is it Judas?" Man that hurts. You think you know somebody, but it turns out that you really don't.

You wonder why your business is losing money, then run an audit and learn a partner’s been robbing you blind. It’s so commonplace in marriage. You know the story: a mate of many years has been cheating for most of them. Sharing the same pillow! I'm talking about pain from the inside not the outside.

It can get dangerous. The greedy ones take out large life insurance policies, scheming to cash them in when a contract is served on your life. There is no pain that hurts more than the betrayal of somebody you love. Sometimes it’s dramatic, Judas‑kinds‑of‑things. But it can be as simple as gossiping behind your back. Or a Mom disapproving of someone you’d like to marry and kicking you out of the family. Being betrayed by a stranger is bad enough. But when it’s your buddy, nothing kills the human spirit like that. It destroys trust, robs the past, blows the mind, deadens the heart, and savages the soul.

Comedian Eddie Murphy had an exaggerated skit a few years back when that terrorist in Rome shot the Pope. Murphy said, "If you really wanta to go to hell, shoot the Pope." That'll get you a front row hot seat. Put that guy at the front of the line, he shot the pope!" Of course, that is a modern‑day take on Dante's Inferno, who places in the lowest circle of hell, Judas Iscariot. Betray your best friend with a phony kiss...there’ll be hell to pay!

Judas' treachery is the first of many heartbreaks Jesus is fixing to undergo. Next was Peter; then the rest of the disciples. Then the crowd turning on him after they saw the hand-writing on the wall. Bette Middler sings Amanda McBroom’s lyrics entitled “The Rose:” “It’s the one who won’t be taken, who never seems to give; and the soul afraid of dying, who never learns to live.”

The lesson of John’s story is: the church has less to fear from outsiders than insiders. The enemy within, embodied by Judas Iscariot, reminds us of the shadow side to every church. Oh yeah, we still have it in us to betray those close to us. But with all their questions about “who-done-it?” John is more interested in Jesus than Judas. The betrayal shows not just who Judas is, but who Jesus is. We come to church to know more about God, but we end up learning more about ourselves – the good and bad of it, the all of it, the hope in it.

Judas has been an enigma to the church for a long time. Is he a pawn in the divine plan, or just a villain? "Do quickly what you have to do," the Book says. As if he had an assignment, not a free choice. Was Judas a rotten guy? Or did he just draw the short straw? Did he do it out of greed? For what blood money could buy? Or is this story cast on a larger back‑drop?

I think was Judas like John the Baptist ‑‑ disappointed that Jesus wasn't the kind of hero they thought he’d be? People do funny things when their messiah lets them down. Or a church that doesn’t deliver. At first with confident triumphalism: “It’s the Lamb of God who takes away the world’s sins.” But ended with: “Are you the one to come, or should we look for another?" Words from John, to be sure, but Judas could have said them.

He wasn't the first nor will he be the last to turn to murder when somebody we love fails to make our dreams come true. To destroy a dream is to destroy the soul. Jesus was no fairytale. And he would tolerate no illusions. Whatever Judas' degree of guilt or motive, John shows us how Jesus identifies his Benedict Arnold. He points no fingers, mentions no names, doesn't even try to talk him out of doing it. He just dips into the cup and offers it to Judas, whose feet he’s just washed and dried them with a towel girded around his waist. Jesus’ only tools for changing the world.

It’s not normal to be so kind to a traitor. Everybody knows we gotta get even! The softer/gentler Jesus never condemns Judas. No guilt. He washes his feet and feeds him. I’ve never seen anything like it. And that’s an indication Judas was never excluded from the inner circle. The only exclusion allowed in the family of faith, then or now, is self‑exclusion.

But Judas knows that Jesus knows. So he hit the road. And John says, "It is night." On the inside and on the outside, “it doesn’t get any darker than this.” But Jesus doesn't talk about darkness; just "glory," a code-word for death in the 4^th Gospel. John says “Man its dark!” Jesus talks about glory. And Judas? Has he turned the light off? Or only turned it on?

By "doing quickly what he has to do," he’s the one who set the passion in motion. It won’t be long now, before the soldiers show up and the crowd cries for Jesus' blood. And Pilate pronounces the sentence he couldn’t wash his hands of. Soon Jesus will be tortured and crowned and nailed to a cross. That doesn't look much like “glory” ... to anybody but God. But John’s Jesus knows. He knows his death will shine like the sun and the time has come for his glory; to start practicing what he's been preaching. His last will and testament "love one another as he loves them."

And Judas missed that grace part. Because he disappeared into the night, removing himself from the only source of salvation. Jesus "laid down his life for his friends." I think that includes Judas. We know it because of what Jesus didn’t do. He mercifully didn’t put the finger on Judas. Instead of blaming, exposing, Jesus washed his feet and fed him. He gave himself away to the one who gave him away. Because their lack of faithfulness had no bearing upon his.

In that tragic moment, when Jesus dipped the morsel in the cup and handed it to Judas, it showed who they both were. As bad as Judas was, it only highlights the innate goodness of Christ. This is the one who practices what he preached. Instead of getting even with his enemies, he feeds them. And goes on treating them like his friends, even though they quit on him. Now you have to admire that.

This story, even though embarrassing to the church, nevertheless indicates how Judas is indispensable to the communion. The Last Supper wouldn't have been what it was, without him. Because Judas was at the table, he’s our everlasting reminder that it’s not just for the saints among us. But also for the crooks and double‑crossers, the spies and impostors too.

When we take the communion, it will reveal who we are. And that knowledge might make some of us run out into the night! But my hope is that it will keep us clinging to the One whose love knows no end. And we’re left to say “Is it I?”

He is the food and drink that redeems and thaws our frozen hearts with the warmth of his own; the broken, poured‑out one, who gives himself to us, and tenderly washes our feet and gently feeds us again and again. Even if we betray him. Even if we crucify him. You can’t keep a good messiah down! He is the seed of all love in the order of the 3^rd day. It’s like that hint of Easter in our song. “Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow, lies a seed, that with the sun’s love, in the spring, becomes a rose.”

"The Rose" by Amanda McBroom

Some say love, it is a river
that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
and you its only seed.

It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give,
and the soul afraid of dyin'
that never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been to long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose.