Denial and Defeat

Denial and Defeat

Matthew 26:69-27:10

 Today is Palm Sunday, the day we normally celebrate the Triumphal Entry – when Jesus rode into Jerusalem to the praise of the people. The disciples were certainly celebrating. It appeared that Jesus were doing what the Messiah was expected to do – ride into Jerusalem where he would declare himself king, summon the mighty army to drive out the oppressors, and set up the Davidic Golden Age. And, if the Messiah were riding into Jerusalem, nobody much cared what the Romans thought, because their days were numbered.   

There were only a couple of problems: Jesus wasn’t riding into town on a great white warhorse, and he wasn’t leading an army of well-trained soldiers. Instead, he was riding the colt of a donkey and was surrounded by a rag-tag mob of villagers and tradesmen, accompanied by children. It was hardly what one would expect of a would-be messiah. And then, to make matters worse, Jesus didn’t turn toward the Praetorium, the Roman headquarters in Jerusalem to drive out the enemy; he turned toward the temple to drive out the moneychangers. If he were the Messiah, he was acting mighty strangely, and certainly not what they had expected.  

Even more strangely, he began predicting his death, and he wouldn’t stay in Jerusalem overnight. He came to the city in the morning and then went out to Bethany, several miles away, every evening. As the week progressed, the whole messiah thing just kind of faded away. He went to the temple to teach and debate with the Pharisees, but he made no move against Rome at all. He just kind of blended with the crowds during the week leading up to Passover.   

Now, we’ve been following the events of Holy Week for some time. We dealt with the Passover meal and Gethsemane. We’ve seen Judas plot to betray Jesus and then carry out the plot. Last week, we followed Jesus into the home of the high priest and witnessed their search for any accusation against Jesus that might warrant the death penalty. And it is there that we pick up the account this week.  

Remember, now, that during that last Passover meal, Jesus announced that all of the disciples would run away and abandon him. And, of course, they all declared their faithfulness. Matthew reports Peter’s claim first – “Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will.” Emphasis on “never!” Jesus responded to Peter’s oath, “Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.” Peter’s reaction is even more forceful – “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.”

And then Jesus was arrested and taken to the home of Caiaphas. Matthew told us that Peter followed at a distance, right up to the courtyard, where he sat down with the guards to watch. And then this happens: 

A servant girl came to him, “You were also with Jesus of Galilee,” she said. Matthew says that Peter denied it before them all. It seems that Peter looked around to see who was watching, who had heard what the girl said. He denied it before them all. “I want everyone here to know that I haven’t been with Jesus.” And he goes out to the courtyard gate.   

There, another servant girl saw him. She didn’t speak to Peter, just pointed him out – “This fellow was with Jesus of Nazareth.” This time Peter swears. Matthew wrote, He denied it again, with an oath. Common oaths were things like, “As the Lord lives ...”, or “As Jerusalem stands ...” Today, “on my mother’s grave,” or “cross my heart and hope to die.” People use such oaths for emphasis. Of course, I’m not going to use the words I hear a lot of people use these days. They say that they swear for emphasis, or to make us pay attention. They use four-letter words, and you’ve heard them, too. Many of them are simply offensive and, in my opinion, betray limited vocabulary and ignorance. Peter’s oath wasn’t like that. He was giving emphasis to his denial: “I don’t know the man!” And refusing even to use Jesus’ name.  

It just occurred to me that this reveals something Pilate knew that Peter did not. In John 19, the soldiers have dressed Jesus in a scarlet robe, placed a scepter in his hands, and essentially re-enacted the imperial coronation. They meant it as mockery, but when they bring Jesus out to Pilate, the governor has Jesus stand in front of him, points to him, and declares to the crowd, “Behold, the man.” Peter swears, “I don’t know the man!” Pilate announces, “Here he is.” Here’s the one you claimed as your Messiah. Here’s the one you declared to be the son of the living God. Here’s the one you swore to follow to the death. Here’s the one you now claim you don’t know.

Intimidated by a servant girl. Not confronted by soldiers. Not under arrest. Just warming his hands over the fire, sitting quietly, and completely unnerved by a little girl. This is the man who swore to follow Jesus to death. Beaten by a girl.   

A little later some one else walks up to Peter, “Surely you are one of them; your accent gives you away.” Jesus is Galilean; your accent is the same; you’re also Galilean. You must be one of his followers. One thing I would note here: your speech ought to give you away. The way you speak ought to associate you with Jesus. It may not be your accent. It may be your vocabulary. Something about you ought to associate you with Jesus. The world around you ought to be able to see. Jesus said that we are to let our light shine so that people may see our good deeds and praise the Father. There’s something about Peter that people associate him with Jesus. Is there such a thing with you? Would people associate you with Jesus?   

This third time, Peter begins to call down curses. He becomes profane and angry in his denial. He wants his words to dissociate him from Jesus. He’s trying desperately to distance himself from Jesus. Is it fear? Perhaps. Fear makes us do strange things. But the bravado of two or three hours ago has completely failed him. Peter is not the man, or the disciple, he claimed to be. And suddenly, he know it. The rooster crows, reminding Peter of Jesus’ prediction. Now Peter knows he has failed Jesus. He is, in Isaiah’s words, undone and broken.  

Matthew now switches our attention to Judas. Lets remind ourselves of what Judas has done. They had been at dinner in Bethany when a woman came in with a bottle of very expensive perfume. She took out the stopper and poured out the perfume on Jesus’ head. John placed the event at the beginning of the week, and has the woman, named Mary, pour the perfume on Jesus’ feet. There, as in Matthew, the disciples object, but John has the most vociferous among them being Judas. “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.” John adds, He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it (Jn 12:5-6).

Then in Matthew 26:14, we read that Judas went to the chief priests asking what they would give him to betray Jesus into their hands. They handed him some money and he began to look for opportunities. In verse 47, Judas finally is able to carry out his plan. He leads the mob to the Garden where they arrest Jesus and haul him back to Jerusalem and the home of Caiaphas to face a secret trial, where Jesus is condemned for blasphemy and sentenced to death. We get a hint now, that this is not what Judas had planned, not what he expected, and not what he had hoped would happen.

We can speculate about this, but before we do, let’s see what Judas does. His reaction here will reveal volumes to us. Matthew tells us that after finding Jesus worthy of death according to Jewish law, they take him to the Roman governor to carry out their wishes. The fact of the matter is that Jewish law carries very little weight in Roman law. The conquered people were not allowed to impose a death penalty; Rome reserved that right. So, if Jesus is to die for his crimes against Jewish law, they would have to find a crime against Roman law in order to carry it out – and the Romans would have to do it for them. So they take Jesus to Pilate. And Jesus does not resist. He does not call down the angels. He does not summon an army. He does not shake off the shackles and strike them all with blindness. He just stands there – a man condemned. Judas saw that. Whatever his plan was, it had evidently failed. Jesus is condemned, meaning he is going to die. And we can see from Judas’ reaction that this was not his intent. He did not intend for Jesus to be condemned to death.   

And suddenly Jesus’ life is the most important thing in the world to him. He takes the money back and tries to buy back Jesus’ life. “I have sinned,” he said, “for I have betrayed innocent blood.” But, like the Canadian Mounties, Caiaphas has got his man. How he got him is no concern. And Judas has served his purpose. The chief priests’ response is essentially, “We don’t care. Your sin is your own problem.”   

And suddenly, the money is just filthy, contaminated, and worthless to him. So Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself. It is a tragic end, and it didn’t need to end that way. Jesus still loved Judas, but Judas had gone too far and didn’t know how to come back.  

Here’s the speculation: My eyes were opened many years ago, when I was a teaching fellow at Northwest Nazarene College. Marsha and I attended a Good Friday service at College Church there next to the college. We sat about halfway down on the right and next to the aisle. The church was presenting a Living Lord’s Supper. Each of the disciples entered, walking down one of the aisles and pausing partway to talk a bit about why they were there and what they hoped. Bob Thompson, a friend of ours, played the part of Judas. He walked down our aisle and stood next to us as he spoke. Tears ran down his face as he told how he hoped to force Jesus’ hand, how he knew that Jesus was the Messiah, and if only he would declare himself. He told how he had set Jesus up, by going to the priests and offering to “betray” Jesus to them, and how he knew that this would be the opportunity Jesus needed, and the motivation Jesus needed to declare himself the Messiah and overthrow the Romans.

I understood that Bob was on to something I’d missed. Judas never intended Jesus to die. He didn’t act out of hatred, but out of love and loyalty. He really believed in Jesus. He just knew Jesus was his Messiah. All Jesus needed was a little help, a little nudge, a threat serious enough that he would do what Judas knew Jesus came to do. He didn’t believe that he was really betraying Jesus at all. He was just trying to help things along.   

But it all went terribly wrong. But this is what happens when we take matters into our own hands. Judas failed. He realized that he had actually been party to getting Jesus condemned and killed. He was indeed the betrayer. He felt himself cursed, and saw no way to make things right. And he saw no way out. Judas died broken, defeated, and guilt-ridden. Matthew tells us that Judas was seized with remorse. He was overwhelmed by what he now knew was sin.  

The chief priests gathered up the money, but because it was blood money, it could not be put into the temple treasury, so they used it to buy a field for a cemetery for foreigners, and called it “the Field of Blood.” Matthew, ever concerned with prophecy, mixed two prophecies here. In one, God told Jeremiah to buy a field and have Baruch safeguard the deed, as a sign that the exile would not last long (Jer. 32:6-9). The other is Zechariah’s two staffs. He breaks the one and they pay him thirty pieces of silver, which he calls “a handsome price.” And the Lord said to me, “Throw it to the potter”—the handsome price at which they valued me! So I took the thirty pieces of silver and threw them to the potter at the house of the Lord (Zech 11:12-13).

I’m going to suggest to you that the old adage is true: “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Peter intended to be faithful, and Jesus had warned him that “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” All the bluster of good intentions did not save Peter when he was confronted about his association with Jesus. Judas intended for Jesus to take the opportunity to rise up, throw off the chains and show himself to be the Messiah. But his plans and his intentions did not change what Jesus had to do. In the end, both of them failed.   

Why did they fail? Because they failed to understand Jesus. They failed to understand. But more than that, their failure was because they both trusted themselves, their own strength and their own plans. They failed because they did not trust Jesus and tried to do it their own way.