Thursday, October 16, 2008

The Spirit Is Willing And The Flesh Is Weak

Mark 14:32-42

Jesus’ prayer in the garden of Gethsemane is one of the more interesting passages in Mark’s Gospel for several reasons, not the least of which is that it is a unique insight into his preparation for the cross. For days and even weeks, Jesus taught and led the disciples preparing them for what was coming. Their worlds are about to be turned upside down and Jesus wants them to be as prepared as possible.

But in the prayer in the garden, we catch a glimpse of Jesus preparing himself. He brings three disciples close to where he prays, and then moves deeper into the garden to be alone with his Father. Jesus prays a shocking prayer: he refers to God in the most intimate terms possible at the moment of his greatest crisis by calling him “Abba Father”; he reveals the struggle in his own heart and mind with utter candor by telling God he would like this cup to be removed from him; and, ultimately, he submits to the will of God in a trying and torturous moment.

On the other hand, the disciples were sleeping. Jesus asked them to stay awake, but the Passover meal and four glasses of wine were taking their toll. Jesus set them near him telling them to remain awake and pray with him, and I have no doubt they had every intention of doing so. But instead of vigilant prayer in the middle of the night, they fall asleep. Honestly, I probably would have done the same thing.

Part of what Jesus tells them when he comes to wake them up is a powerful glimpse into the lesson of the prayer in the Garden. When he finds them asleep he says, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak” (vs. 37-38).

How have you heard that phrase used: “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak”? How have you used it? It is not uncommon to use this phrase to excuse our behavior. We might have failed at actually doing something of value or help, but at least our hearts were in the right place. After all, our spirits were willing but you can hardly blame me for my flesh being weak.

When we place this phrase back into context, however, it ceases to be an excuse or an explanation, and becomes a correction. Jesus fully expected their flesh to be strong enough to keep up with the intentions or desires of the spirit within them. Our desires, even the best of them, don’t do us much good if they are never acted upon. If I desire with every ounce of my being to be kind, loving, patient and thoughtful toward my spouse but every word or action of mine is short-tempered, cruel and selfish, what good have my desires done anyone? I may intend to follow Christ with my whole life: to stay attentive and steadfast, to tithe and give of myself. But if I do none of those things, what good have my desires done for myself and the kingdom of God?

Don’t misunderstand: our desires need to be in line with God’s desires. That way, when we act on our desires, we act out the will of God.

It is entirely possible to follow the example of Christ in this passage. We can have a flesh—a lifestyle—that is ready to do what we rightly desire to do. Christ wrestled in the garden. He was shockingly honest about how he felt, but his spirit was willing to do what the Father ultimately wanted done. In the garden he surrendered his will, and on the cross his body naturally and inevitably followed.

I need to learn the lesson of surrendering my will to God’s will now, so that when the time comes for my flesh to follow, it is the most natural thing for me to do.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Take and Eat, Take and Drink

Mark 14:22-31

The Lord’s Supper is a crucial point for Jesus, the disciples, and every follower of Christ. The meal of the Passover was celebrated by God’s people year after year for centuries to commemorate what God did for his people when he delivered them from captivity in Egypt and to look forward to the day when the Messiah would come and complete the job. When God’s people went to the effort to come to Jerusalem and prepare the Passover meal, they identified with their God and not another, and they identified themselves with these people—these people who owed their very existence to the gracious salvation of God.

On this night, however, Jesus breaks with tradition and takes the meal upon himself. Everything the people of God have been waiting for is now fulfilled in him.

Jesus took the bread, spoke the traditional blessing and passed it out. The common practice was for the bread to be passed out in silence as each member at the table allowed the significance of the act to sink in. On this night Jesus broke the silence with, “Take, this is my body.” This bread the disciples and their people took for centuries represents the body of this man, Jesus Christ. In his telling, Luke adds, “which is given for you.” For the disciples, this is a vivid image. Animals were sacrificed over and over by the hundreds of thousands to cover the sins of God’s people. But they cannot complete our forgiveness, so they needed to return the next year and repeat the ritual. Sacrifice, sin, repeat.

Jesus’ body will be given in the same way the lamb’s body was—it will be sacrificed. But unlike the lamb, the Lamb’s sacrifice will cleanse us once and for all of our sins.

Jesus took the cup, spoke the traditional blessing and passed it out. Like the bread, the traditional practice was to pass the cup in silence as each person there prayed for the coming of the Messiah. Jesus, however, again broke the silence with, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.” In the Old Testament, when a covenant was struck between two people or between God and his people, it was sealed with the shedding of blood. In their minds the life of a thing was in its blood, and to shed it was the most solemn act possible to signify that the covenant was sealed and both parties were bound by its terms.

This new covenant will be sealed with the literal blood of Jesus Christ, and it is sure. This new covenant does what no other covenant or sacrifice could do—it forgives every sin. God told Jeremiah about this sacrifice by saying, “For I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sins no more” (31:34). Isaiah describes the act of the cross this way: “he poured out his soul to death and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many and makes intercession for the transgressor” (53:12).

Because of the cross, Jesus now stands between God’s justice and my sin. Instead of receiving the just punishment of my sins, I now receive forgiveness and grace because Jesus bore my sin on the cross.

With each element, Jesus not only told us what it meant, he commanded us to take and eat and drink. We take in, we consume, the body and the blood of Jesus each time we take communion. It is a powerful and public act of identification and consecration. When I take communion, I tell the world I belong to this God and not another. I tell the world I belong to these people, the Body of Christ here on earth. I not only identify with the other believers in my church, but every believer across the globe and across time. Many believers take communion openly and proclaim their allegiance with Christ. Many believers huddle in dark corners due to persecution and take the body and blood of Jesus Christ. I belong to them and they belong to me. It is an acted parable; the acting of the story is the telling of the truth of it.

Take and eat and take and drink for, “whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” (John 6:54).