COURAGE AND COWARDICE
January 31, 2009
John 18:1-27
INTRODUCTION
At around 10am on Friday 4th August 1944 German and Dutch security police made a raid on an office building in the centre of Amsterdam. They had received information that eight Jews were hiding in sealed-off rooms in the annex. Their tip-off proved to be correct. Otto Frank, the Jewish owner of the building, had been hiding his family and some others there for two years, supported by a small group of friends who had provided them with black-market food and clothes.
The discovery led to the arrest and deportation of all the Jews. Among them was Otto’s 15 year old daughter, Ann, whose diary of those awful years has become one of the most important eye-witness accounts of Jewish suffering during the war. She eventually died of typhus in the Bergen-Belsen camp just a month before it was liberated by British troops.
The riddle of who betrayed them has never been solved despite repeated investigations. The finger has been pointed at certain people but nothing has ever been proved. One wonders at what kind of person could betray innocent people. One wonders how such a person could live with themselves knowing the fate that befell these victims of Nazi brutality.
BRIDGE
When he had finished praying Jesus left with his disciples and crossed the Kidron Valley. On the other side there was an olive grove, and he and his disciples went into it. Now Judas, who betrayed him, knew the place, because Jesus had often met there with his disciples. (v.1)
This is the story of courage and calm in the face of cowardice and confusion. Here is the Lord Jesus deliberately going to a place where he would be found; identifying himself clearly to those sent to apprehend him; refusing to resist arrest; and when put on trial retracting nothing of what he had taught but challenging his detractors to find him guilty of any wrong.
The contrasts could hardly be stronger. Judas, betraying his friend; while Jesus protects his. The detachment of soldiers armed with torches, lanterns and weapons; while Jesus rebukes Peter for drawing his one sword. The violence of the petty official who struck Jesus on the cheek; while Jesus meekly allows himself to be discovered, bound and led away. Most of all, Peter’s denial, not once, not twice, but three times, as he warms himself at the courtyard fire; while Jesus accepts the blows and insults of sinful men in order to become Peter’s Saviour and ours.
We may be tempted to stand in judgement over all of them—the Roman soldiers, the temple hierarchy, Judas, Peter, the Nazis, the quislings, the bankers whose greed has cost us our jobs, the liars and cheats and thugs who make life a misery—but no one should be able to read this story and not discern themselves depicted somewhere, in contrast to the Lord Jesus Christ.
For this story cries out to us all: Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
It is the story of the Lamb of God being the Lamb of God; of the Good Shepherd being the Good Shepherd; of the Son of God being the obedient Son of God. Let’s look at it carefully.
STORY
The period of detailed instruction in the upper room has ended and Jesus has concluded his long, solemn prayer for his disciples and those who would follow them. Now he is confronted with the events that would take him to the cross. It is only a matter of waiting for Judas to bring the police who would set the train of events in motion.
Jesus takes his little band to a familiar spot, an olive grove on the Mount of Olives. This is the Garden of Gethsemane referred to by the other three Gospels, where Jesus prays again, wrestling in prayer, asking the Father to remove the cup of sorrow he must drink, yet determined to do God’s will. Although John doesn’t mention this, it’s clear he knows about it from v.11: Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me?
Judas arrives with a detachment of soldiers, that is, Roman soldiers, and temple officials. Jew and Gentile, so often in conflict, brought together in the task of bringing Christ to the cross. They represent a world united in its hatred of Jesus.
How many soldiers we are not told, but the impression is, a lot. Given Jesus’ popularity among the people they were expecting trouble. Judas may have warned them that the disciples were a bunch of hot-heads. It’s night-time so they are carrying torches and lanterns, for they might have to carry out an extensive search. They are also carrying weapons.
I suppose the basics of policing haven’t changed much down through the centuries. Generally speaking success depends having accurate intelligence, superior numbers and the element of surprise. They had all these so they must have been feeling quite confident.
Yet, let me ask you: who is control of the situation? Who is in charge? Clearly, the Lord Jesus. v.4: Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went out and asked them, Who is it you want?
This isn’t how a criminal acts. This isn’t someone terrified of being captured. This isn’t a man on the run finally admitting defeat. This is the Son of God laying down his life of his own accord. What he did was not by constraint but by consent. (Matthew Henry).
Oh let us never cease to praise our Lord Jesus Christ for his willingness to die for us. They may have bound his hands and led him away; but he was already bound to his work, to his mission to be Saviour of the world.
Who is it you want, he asks. Whose name is on the arrest warrant?
Jesus of Nazareth, they reply. None of the disciples are mentioned; they are free to go.
Here is Jesus, the Good Shepherd, protecting his flock. He is no hire hand who runs away at the first sign of trouble. He stays with his flock; he is attached to them. Later, in v.19, when he is quizzed about his disciples and teaching, he says nothing about the disciples. He leaves them out of it altogether.
There are three lessons we learn from this. First, our salvation is not a team effort. There is only one Saviour, one Redeemer. The apostles, when they were alive, took no part in winning us forgiveness of sin. Nor can they do so now that they are in heaven.
Indeed, Peter himself declared about Jesus (Acts 4:12):
Salvation is found in no-one else for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.
Second, what a friend we have in Jesus who does not abandon us to the enemy. Sometimes we’re pushed to the very extremes of our faith. The night has closed in around us, and we can hear the wolves howling. Fears and anxieties surround us; failures and doubts snap at our heels.
But who does the enemy really want? Who is the real target in Satan’s sights? Jesus of Nazareth. You are his, so Satan attacks you. But the voice of the Lord Jesus is still heard:
If you are looking for me, then let these men go. v.8
Satan, let this child of mine alone.
Christian, he laid down his life for you; he isn’t going to surrender you to Satan now. Truly he can look the Father in the eye and say: I have not lost one of those you gave me. (v.9)
And third, we can be sure that Christ will never let us be tested more than we can bear. In the years to come, the apostles would be imprisoned, beaten, flogged, martyred. Through it all they rejoiced at the privilege of suffering for Christ. But that was come. They were not ready for that yet.
Be in no doubt, if you are a Christian, your faith will be tried and tested. It’s the only way for us to develop any spiritual muscles. But just as with physical exercise, we build up slowly. No one tries to run a marathon on their first day out jogging. Let me put it another way: any army that puts its troops into battle before they have been through rigorous training is taking a terrible risk. Well, the Lord Jesus will never expect us to fight battles we’re not prepared for.
The Apostle Paul assures us (1Cor.10:13):
No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.
Who is it you want? Jesus of Nazareth.
I am he, says Jesus. Literally, I am. The normal way of speaking, yet on the lips of Jesus somehow there are overtones of the divine.
I am the Lord, that is my name Isa.42:8
I am the Lord and there is no other (Isa.45:6)
I, the Lord—with the first of them and with the last—I am he. (Isa.41:4)
Thus Jesus declares:
I am the bread of the life; I am the light of the world; I am the Resurrection and the Life; I am the Good Shepherd; I am the gate for the sheep; I am the vine; I am the way, and the truth, and the life.
And therefore, while we might explain the rather comical sight of the troops bumping into each and tumbling backwards on the suddenness of the front column coming to a halt (it’s like something out of “Dad’s Army); yet we detect something more. Before the serenity of Jesus, his enemies are awestruck. He is in control; they are in confusion.
It’s worth asking: If that is how Christ’s enemies react when facing him de-robed of majesty and surrendering himself meekly; how will they respond when they face him on that great and terrible day when he appears to them as their king and judge? They will fall, not upon their backs, but upon their knees.
Having waited till they straightened their helmets and sorted themselves out, Jesus repeats his question and gets the same reply.
v.10 Then Simon Peter who had a sword drew it and struck the high priest’s servant, cutting off his right ear. The servant’s name was Malchus.
Peter, Peter, Peter—we admire your courage, we admire your devotion to the Lord. You said you’d be willing to lay down your life for him, and so you are. You’re no fair-weather friend. The odds are against you, but yet you fight.
But Peter this isn’t the time. You’ve never understood. Our Saviour is a suffering Saviour. Our freedom comes, not from a blood-stained sword, but a blood-soaked cross.
Zeal can be misplaced. Zeal can be used as an excuse for our own desire for heroics.
We walk into the devil’s trap if we try to play the world at its own game, fighting spiritual battles according to the world’s tactics. (2Cor.10:3):
For though we live in the world we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world.
So we do not trade insults for insults. We do not vilify or demean or belittle. We are not sneaky and underhand. We love our enemies, we pray for enemies, we turn the other cheek. And if we get crucified, so what? If you have died to self already, how can they kill you again?
v.11 Jesus commanded Peter, Put your sword away. Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me.
One of the ways the Old Testament prophets described God’s judgement befalling someone was to talk about how they had drunk from God’s cup. The picture seems to be related to the humiliation and degradation of drunkenness.
Isaiah talks about the cup of his wrath…the cup that made you stagger. (51:17)
Jeremiah refers to the cup filled with the wine of my wrath. (25:15)
Ezekiel calls it the cup of ruin and desolation. (23:33)
What makes the image particularly powerful is the role played by the one drinking from the cup. To drink is a deliberate act. The cup is proffered and accepted. The wicked bring judgement upon themselves.
There in the olive grove, in the Garden of Gethsemane, God the Father had proffered the cup of his wrath, the cup of ruin and desolation not to the wicked, not to the unrighteous, but to his Son, his sinless Son.
And Jesus had accepted, knowing that to do so would be to drink the unmitigated, unrelenting, unrestrained wrath of God against the sins of the world.
Then the detachment of soldiers with its commander and Jewish officials arrested Jesus. They bound him and brought him to Annas (v.12, 13)
Jesus was tasting his first bitter sips from the cup.
Annas had been high priest when Jesus was a boy. That’s why he is called high priest in v.19. Although he was retired, the fact that five of his sons had succeed him, and his son-in-law Caiaphas was now in charge, helps us to understand why the police took Jesus to him first. John reminds us in v.14 that Caiaphas was the one who, back in 12:50, had suggested that it would be good if one man died for the sake of all the people. It hardly bodes well for a fair trial.
Meanwhile, Peter hasn’t given up. Along with an anonymous disciple, who may well be John, he follows Jesus to Annas’s house. This other disciple seems to be well connected and gets Peter an entry into the courtyard.
Peter—you shouldn’t be there. The Lord has secured your release. You are putting the Lord your God to the test. You are running ahead of yourself. You don’t have the strength, you don’t have the maturity to handle this. It’s a principle we all do well to remember.
Before you set out to evangelize the world, how about sharing the gospel with just one friend.
If your desire is to be an example for young Christians to follow, let’s see the example you set in your own family.
If you want to do great exploits for the Lord, show us the small exploits first.
Big mouth Peter: though everyone else desert you, Lord, I will never desert you.
He falls at the first hurdle. The girl at the door asks him:
You are not one of his disciples are you?
She’s making what we might call a cautious assertion.
You’re not John Smith’s boy are you?
You’re not the gas man are you?
And Peter says, No. I am not.
Oh Peter, if you’re frightened of a wee lassie, how will you cope when it’s men who want to tear the flesh from your back?
And then look what he does. He warms himself at their fire. Jesus (v.21) is asking for witnesses, as the law required. Peter, you could have been a witness. You could have told the high priest what Jesus taught. But no, you stand warming yourself at their fire.
What was their conversation? Did these servants take their cue from their masters? Did they mock the Lord Jesus, triumphing in his capture? And did Peter stand there, keeping his mouth shut, laughing at their jokes, yet inwardly dying?
You’ve heard the saying “silence is golden”. But sometimes silence is just plain yellow! As ashamed as I am for all the times I have said the wrong thing, I am more ashamed of the times I’ve kept my mouth shut. Times I should have spoken up for Jesus. But I didn’t want people to think I was a fanatic; I didn’t want to bring religion into the conversation.
Am I the only one who feels that way?
they that warm themselves with evil-doers grow cold toward good people and good things (Matthew Henry)
Indoors, Jesus is being interrogated. This isn’t the trial before the Sanhedrin. In modern parlance, Jesus is helping the police with their inquiries. He’s asked about his disciples probably in order to ascertain the potential for any uprising.
The second line of questioning, about his teaching, is what interests them most. They want to pin blasphemy charges on him. But there’s no need to question him like this.
I always taught in synagogues or at the temple where all the Jews come together. I said nothing in secret.
Of course, Jesus did speak privately to the disciples, but not in the sense that there was one message for public consumption and another, more sinister message for a select band of initiates. Jesus couldn’t have been more open and upfront.
v.22 When Jesus said this one of the officials nearby struck him in the face.
Little did that petty official realize that he was fulfilling prophecy:
I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard. I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting. (Isa.50:6)
Oh dear Lord Jesus, there is more to come, so much more—the beating within an inch of your life, and the crown of thorns pressing down upon your brow; and the nails. Soon you will gulping down the wine of God’s wrath.
Could the contrast with Peter be drawn more starkly? How foolish we are to imagine that if we give in to sin it will go away; as if giving in to a demanding child will leave it satisfied for long. Yield once and you merely weaken your defences. Yield once and Satan will be back for more.
v.25 As Simon Peter stood warming himself he was asked, You are not one of his disciples, are you?
He denies it; but soon afterwards someone recognizes him, a relative of the man whose ear he’d cut off. Didn’t I see you with him in the olive grove?
John is kinder to Peter than the other Gospel writers. They tell us that Peter cursed and swore and used language that would make a soldier blush. John simply says, Again he denied it.
And it’s then, as Jesus predicted, that the cock began to crow. Have you ever had the experience of something common-place, something quite ordinary, acting as a spiritual wake-up call, slapping you on the face as it were, bringing you back to your senses?
The sound of the church bell, perhaps; or a child singing a Sunday school song; or a snippet of a conversation overheard. Or maybe an intimation of mortality—the tightening of the chest, breathlessness, a lump, a mole, the death of someone close.
John, brilliant writer that he is, leaves us hanging on to the very end of his book, to find out what happens to Peter, how the Lord restored him by forcing him to confess his love for him three times, thus cancelling out each denial. Forgiveness that Jesus was going to the cross to procure.
CONCLUSION
Betrayed by a friend; disowned by another.
Rejected by his own people; surrendered into the hands of the authorities to be killed.
Everything seems to have conspired against our Lord Jesus Christ.
Yet throughout this story his mastery of events shines through, as they will continue to shine through.
What do you make of this man?
A tragic victim? Surely not.
A brave martyr? For what cause?
No. What we have here, as I said earlier, is the Lamb of God being the Lamb of God, taking away the sin of the world. Here we have the Good Shepherd, being the Good Shepherd, laying down his life for his flock. Here we have the Son of God being the Son of God, demonstrating the love of God for sinners just like us.
Surely our only response is to bow down and worship and cry aloud, My Lord and my God.
I will sing of the Lamb of the price that was paid for me
purchased by God, giving all he could give
Here now I stand in the garments of righteousness
death has no hold for in Jesus I live.
Once I was blind yet believed I saw everything
proud in my ways yet a fool in my part
lost and alone in the company of multitudes
life in my body yet death in my heart.
What shall I give to the man who gave everything
humbling himself before all he had made?
Dare I withhold my own life from his sovereignty
I shall give all for the sake of his name.
(Stuart Townend)

