Words for Worship

Ministry Today

A Certain Judas!

 

Matthew 26.1-16

Matthew 13.10-17

 

 

This is a story

about a small coastal village

in England

that routinely

would become covered

by dense fog.

 

The pride of that village

was a lighthouse

that had been built

on the north end of town

where the harbour was navigable

and free from the huge rock

that dotted the rest of the coast.

 

One night the villagers

had gathered

on the south end of town

to celebrate a local festival.

 

Part of that celebration

included the building

of a large bonfire on the beach.

 

That same night,

a ship in the vicinity

developed engine trouble.

 

The ship's captain,

after checking his charts,

decided to locate the lighthouse

and put in at the harbour

for repairs.

 

As he scanned the horizon

through the fog,

he caught sight

of a faint glimmer of light.

Thinking it to be the beam

from the lighthouse,

he set his course

towards it.

 

As he closed the land,

he began to see

the light more clearly

and realized

it was not the lighthouse

but a bonfire.

 

Quickly he changed course,

later discovering that

he had been only 100 yards away

from one of

the largest rocky outcrops

in that area

and the certain destruction of his ship.

 

Well this story doesn’t suggest

great foresight in navigation

but it suggests

we feel safest

when we are certain

of what we see.

 

That was surely

the attitude of today’s disciple –

the infamous Judas Iscariot.

 

Now, of course,

we cannot really know

why he betrayed his master.

 

Was it just the money –

not an unheard of motive

even today!

 

Was it that he wanted

to force Jesus

into making

such a supernatural firework

show that he would be seen

as the Messiah?

 

Or was it the converse?

 

Was Judas so bitterly disappointed

that Jesus wasn’t doing

something spectacular

that we wanted

an end to a vexing

false prophet?

 

Yet whatever the reason

Judas seemed to crave one thing

in the very depths of his being

and that was certainty.

 

Possibly he just

wanted the reassuring

weight of gold in his pocket.

 

But, as likely as not,

he wanted the certainty

of seeing clearly that Jesus

either was

or was not the son of God.

 

Yet this has been

the paradox for many followers

over the two intervening millennia.

 

For they yearn for certainty.

 

They just want someone else

to work it all out for them

and to tell them.

 

They lust after just one person,

organisation or text

to give clear,

unequivocal answers

that demands rigid

and intolerant adherence.

 

In other words

they want rules

that leave no room

for uncertainty.

 

The want ruled

into the clearway.

 

The problem is,

however,

Jesus didn’t seem

to agree with that view.

 

He sought disciples

who were not slaves,

autocrats or fundamentalists.

 

Instead he encouraged

his followers to think

for themselves.

 

He hoped they would open

their hearts in prayer

to the revealing love of God.

 

Moreover, he thirsted after

his children putting their hand

into his hand

and being lead

by the Holy Spirit

into pastures unseen.

 

Put simple, his wished

we would truly understand

the words of Hebrews

and be sure of what we hope for

and certain of what we do not see.

 

 And that is why

he spoke in parables;

parables that asked

as many questions

as they answered

; parables that we will

never fathom completely;

parables that offer

differing solutions

in differing situations.

 

Indeed, parables

which entice into freedom’s way

instead of being bound

into humanly created certainty.

 

And that way is the way of faith

in God alone –

the way of trusting

in the spirit alone

and the way of walking with Christ

and walking in Christ alone.

 

 

Most of us

will recall the movie

that came out

in the early 1980s,

Chariots of Fire.

 

In part, it was the story

of Eric Liddell,

the Scottish runner

who ran for Great Britain

in the Paris Olympics

of 1924.

 

Now Liddell,

as son of missionaries in China,

was deeply Christian,

as was his sister,

Jenny.

 

This put him in a quandary.

 

For the year Eric

was invited to run

in the Olympics

happened to be the same year

he was needed to help

his parents in China.

 

Now his sister could see clearly

there was no debate –

there was only

one hard and fast decision –

there was only one certain way

forward.  

 

And that was to answer God's call

to serve as a missionary.

 

After all,

which was more important,

to run in a race

for one's own glory

or to serve the glory of God?

 

But then Eric Liddell

showed the wonder

of God’s differing responses

to those who truly ask in faith

rather than answer

from certainty.

 

For, he then replies

to his self-assured sister:

 

I believe God made me for a purpose

, but he also made me fast.

 

And when I run I feel His pleasure.

 

 

Yet you could ask

why didn’t Jesus

not just dictate us a book of rules?  

 

Why can certainty be such a sin?

 

In fact, why is Christianity

such advanced religion?

Well, because as John Stroman points out –

Jesus always met men and women

on the level of their need,

regardless of who they were

or what they had done.

 

He met everyone as human beings,

never as stereotypes.

 

And the clear certainty

we all feel from stereotypes

were as powerful then

as it is now.

 

But the problem is

once a label is placed

on a person

the human being vanishes.

 

Many labels were given

to people

in the New Testament –

such labels as tax collector,

tax collector,

occupying soldier &

shameless prostitute.  

 

Yet every time

these clear labels appear,

Jesus completely ignored them

and dealt with the person.

 

This is true of his encounters

with the soldier,

the tax-collector,

the zealot

and the prostitute.

 

It was true

even when

the certainty addicted Judas

presented himself

to Jesus.

 

For as David H.C. Read points out

"Jesus knew the ugly side of humanity –

the brutality of the occupation,

the corruption of the tax system,

the racial prejudices,

the sexual degradation

and a friend’s betrayal.

 

But never once

did these factors blind him

to the reality

of that naked human being,

that unique son or daughter of God

he saw before him.  

 

Never once did he

through clear rules

and regulations

in their faces.

 

Never once did he judge them

with certainty.

 

All he did was to love them

into winning their own race.  

 

Or as Eric Liddell preached

at once race meeting:

 

 

You came to see a race today.

 

To see someone win

 

. It happened to be me.

 

But I want you to do more than

just watch a race.

 

I want you to take part in it.

 

I want to compare faith

to running in a race.

 

It's hard.

 

It requires concentration of will,

energy of soul.

 

You experience elation

when the winner breaks the tape –

especially if you've got a bet on it.

 

But how long does that last?

 

You go home.

 

Maybe you're dinner's burnt.

 

Maybe you haven't got a job.

 

So who am I to say,

"Believe, have faith,"

in the face of life's certainties?

 

I would like to give you

something more permanent,

but I can only point the way.

 

I have no rules

for winning the race.

 

Everyone runs in

her or his own way.

 

And where does the power

come from,

to see the race to its end?

 

From within.

 

esus said, "Behold, the Kingdom of God

is within you.

 

If with all your hearts,

you truly seek me,

you shall ever surely find me."

 

If you commit yourself

to the love of Christ,

then that is how

you run

a straight race.

 

Amen

 

Offering

 

HYMN……