I confess to borrowing this outline from the 19th century Baptist preacher, Alexander MacLaren. About the time that Spurgeon was in London, MacLaren was preaching in Manchester. His best known work is the 31 volume, “Exposition of Holy Scripture” – a series of sermons going from one end of the Bible to the other. MacLaren was not perfect in doctrine , but he did say a great many good things. As I say, this outline was one of his.
He began by pointing out that Michelangelo and so many other artists rarely depicted the Lord correctly. Jesus and His disciples were probably reclining before a mere tray on the floor of the upper room. Most likely everyone’s head was very near the chest of the person next to him, and we are told that John’s virtually on the breast of the Saviour. So when Jesus made the announcement “One of you shall betray me,” no one jumped to his feet and started dancing around the room in horror. Comparing the three gospels, it seems that the best they could so was to being to ask, “Is it I” with the expectation of a negative answer. None of them could think of himself as the traitor, and yet none of them could be sure that he was not. Of course the Lord knew those men better than they did themselves, but He didn’t point His finger. He merely spoke of their fingers – “He that dippeth with me in the dish, the same shall betray me.” In essence all He said was ” It’s one of you here at this meal.”‘
Among the rest, Judas was reassured that he had escaped detection for the moment. And perhaps doubtful that Jesus had anything more than vague suspicion of treachery, he shapes his lying lips with loathsome audacity into the same question, but yet not quite the same. The others had asked, “Lord, is it I?” but Judas falters when he comes to Jesus’ true title. The word “Lord” sticks in his throat and out comes “Master” or “Rabbi.” And to that Christ merely says, “Thou hast said,” showing another example of His patient longsuffering. It was evidently only a whisper, and it didn’t reach the ears of any of the others. At that point Judas left the room without suspicion. The Lord revealed to the man that He knew, but only Judas heard it.
Let’s consider some of the implications of the disciples’ question.
For example, we see in these men a wholesome self-distrust.
Whether or not anyone admits to it, the Bible reveals that we are all a mystery – even to ourselves. In every one of us there lie, coiled and dormant, like hibernating snakes, evils that a very slight rise in the temperature will wake up into poisonous activity. And let no man say, in foolish self-confidence, that the form of sin which his brother has committed is impossible for him. Temperament shields us from much, no doubt. There are sins that “we are inclined to,” and there are sins that “we have no mind to.” But our human nature is deeper than our temperament, and there are reasons to forget our confidence thinking that anything which one man has done it is impossible that we can do it. Last night, Judy and I watched the a PBS rendition of Hercule Poirot’s very last case. Agatha Christies, highly moral, super intelligent, Belgian crime-solver, was trying to prevent a murder. And in order to do it, just before he died of heart disease – he committed a murder. Don’t say that you could never commit such and such a sin or crime.
As I said last week, all sins are but varying forms of one root. The essence of every evil is selfishness, and when you have that, it is exactly like the measles virus lurking around in your body. We have the potential for an outbreak at any moment, and apparently without provocation. Don’t say to yourself, “I will never have shingles” – it is not your call. All sin has one root – living for myself instead of living to God. And that sin may easily pass from one form into another, just as light and heat, motion and electricity, are all various forms and phases of one thing – energy. No man with a human heart is safe in pointing to any sin, and saying, “That form of sin foreign to me.”
And then too, for lack of a better word, sin is gregarious. There are, I am told, lone wolves, which don’t appear to be associate with any other wolves. But generally when you see one, you will soon meet a dozen others. Rarely does someone commit a single sin – rather they hunt in pairs or packs. Judas’ love of money ended up in the betrayal of Christ.
Any evil is possible, seeing that all sin is but yielding to tendencies common to us all. The greatest transgressions have resulted from yielding to little temptations. Cain killed his brother from jealousy. David besmirched his name and his reign by sensual passion. Judas betrayed Christ because he was fond of money. Many a man has murdered another one simply because he had a hot temper. And like it or not, you have got a temper, and you have just a bit of hunger for money. You have passion, and you got what it takes to become jealousy. Your neighbor’s house has caught fire and burned down. But your house, too, is built of wood, and thatched with straw, and you have as much dynamite in your cellars as he had in his. Do not be too sure that you are safe from the danger of explosion. If the well is poisoned, and two people have gotten sick from drinking its water, shouldn’t the rest of the community, worry about getting sick as well? “Lord, is it I?”
In II Kings 8, Elisha was sent to Damascus with a message for King Benhadad. When the king heard of the prophet’s arrival, he sent his counselor, Hazael, to meet him, to get God’s message. Elijah told the ambassador that Benhadad would recover, but that he would die. And then big, old tears started rolling down his face. Hazael asked what was wrong, and Elijah said, it’s because I know the evil which you shall inflict on the children of Israel, describing some horrible atrocities. Hazael couldn’t believe it. “But what is thy servant, a dog, that he should do this great thing?” “And Elisha answered, the Lord hath shewed me that thou shalt be king of over Syria.” Slowly, by degrees, Hazael, the servant, became king and began to sink into the wickedness of politics. The crystal clear drop of rain water falls onto the rock at the top of the mountain. It joins a few others and begins to roll down towards the sea. Along the way it picks up a grain of soil, and then more, becoming unfit to drink. It runs through chemically treated fields and over crowded cities. Finally when it reaches the ocean it is as polluted as if it feel from the sky as cyanide. That was the story of Hazael – that was the history of Judas. That could be the story of any one of us.
There is nothing more foolish than for any man to stand, self-confident that any form of evil that has conquered his brother has no temptation for him. It may not have for you, under present circumstances; it may not have for you to-day. But circumstances are in constant flux. Humble self-distrust, consciousness that sleeping sin in my heart that may very quickly be stirred into sin, should drive us to the Saviour and the ministry of the Holy Spirit.
Many people have said, “I can stop any time that I want” – I can stop smoking, drinking, cheating, whatever. But tens of millions have not stopped, and many sunk lower and lower until they drowned in their sin. And when you hear of another horrendous crime, say to yourself, as the old preacher once said while watching a man going to the scaffold, “But for the grace of God there I go.” And in the witnessing the sins and apostasies of others, let us look humbly at our own weakness, and pray to God to keep us from our brother’s evils which may easily become ours. “Lord, is it I?”
Also in comparing the disciple’s question to Judas’ version, we have a completely different result.
Despite his question, in Judas we see a fixed determination to carry out his evil plan. Judas heard his crime vividly described – “betrayal.” And he heard his fate proclaimed by lips of absolute love and truth. And still he leaves the room unmoved and unshaken. The determination in his heart makes his sin a hundred times greater than the way it began. And his question doubles even that.
Usually, when our potential sins are exposed most people turn away in disgust. MacLaren quoted an old preacher saying, “There is nothing that is weaker than the devil stripped naked.” Usually we have to dress our sins up in nice clothing before we can look it in the eye. That is why we have two sets of names for your sin and my sin. What I do is “practical,” but what you do is “greedy.” What my kids do is “sowing their wild oats,” but what your kids do “immoral.” What I do is living in a friendly and outgoing fashion, but what you do is “drunkenness” and “gluttony.” What I do is “righteous indignation,” and what you do is “irresponsible anger.” Evil are those people who can look at sin, redefine it and declare, “I am going to do this because it is good or right.” The Saviour said, “One of you shall betray Me,” and Judas said, “Yes; but I have good reason.” Judas shows great strength in looking into the Master’s face and still keep the wicked plans that he had.
That obstinate determination to sin, knowing it to wicked, is a condition to which all evil steadily tends. When someone reaches the point of saying to sin, “Be thou my good,” then he has become “a devil.” Is this sort of thing possible in me? Anything is possible. A year earlier, if you had asked Judas about this betrayal, he might have scoffed as quickly as Peter did. “Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults. Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me: then shall I be upright, and I shall be innocent from the great transgression. Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer.”
Also in this question, we see the peaceful confidence that comes from communion with Christ.
John leaned on the Master’s chest. He was called “the disciple whom Jesus loved,” and perhaps with that great love, and feeling absolutely sure in the Lord’s grace, his question was not, ‘Is it I?” but “Who is it?” Does this mean that to feel Christ’s loves, and that I am compassed about by Him, is the true security against my falling into any sin?
It was not John’s love to Christ, but Christ’s love to John that created the man’s security. He did not say: “Lord, I love you so much that I cannot betray you.” Because all our feelings and emotions are variable, to build confidence upon them is to build a house upon the sand. John thought to himself – or he felt – that all about him lay the sweet, warm, rich atmosphere of his Master’s love; and to a man who was encompassed by that, treachery was impossible.
Sin has less and less temptation the closer that we lay to the heart of Christ. Would thirty pieces of silver have been a bribe to John? Could what might have terrified others have frightened John while he leaned upon the Lord? Will a handful of imitation jewelry – colored glass, be any temptation to a man who bears a rich diamond on his finger? And will any of earth’s pleasures be a temptation to a man who lives in the continual consciousness of the great rich love of Christ wrapping around him? It is not ourselves, not our faith, not our emotion, not our religious experience; nothing that is in us, that can keep us from secumbing to temptation, and denial of our Lord. There is only one real security – to be folded to the heart, and held by the hand, of the Omnipotent Christ. Then we may be confident that we shall not fall; for “the Lord is able to make us stand.”
Self-distrust is the condition and prerequisite for trust in the Lord, and that takes us to victory. Faith in God and “no confidence in the flesh” are but the two sides of the same coin. Plant a seed and it begins to send a little root downward and a little shoot upward. We will flower and produce fruit when our downward rootlet is self-distrust, and the upward shoot is faith in Christ. “Lord is it I?” Don’t give yourself the fools-gold of self-trust.
“Now unto Him that is able to keep us from falling, and to present us faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy; to the only wise God our Saviour be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and for ever. Amen.”