People of the Passion: The Apostles, the Servant Leaders
Luke 22:19 And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me." 20 In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you. 21 But the hand of him who is going to betray me is with mine on the table. 22 The Son of Man will go as it has been decreed, but woe to that man who betrays him." 23 They began to question among themselves which of them it might be who would do this. 24 Also a dispute arose among them as to which of them was considered to be greatest.
John 13:2 The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. 3 Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; 4 so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. 5 After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. … 14 Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet.
They were a motley bunch, some might say “ragtag,” these 12 people of the passion. Several were unschooled fishermen. One was a contemptible tax collector, one a political zealot (or patriot), one with a Greek name, one from the obscure village of Cana in Galilee. A couple of them were known to be quick-tempered. In this series of sermons, we’ve already heard about the traitor and the denier. Most of us cannot remember all of their names.
In many ways they were just like you and me.
As the hours raced relentlessly toward Jesus’ death, these men gathered with Jesus for the Passover meal and for a night they would never forget—a night we must never forget.
Early in the evening, as the meal was being served, Jesus did something extraordinary. He took a towel, poured water into a basin, and began to wash his disciples’ feet.
It was not out of the ordinary to get one’s feet washed on entering a home. After walking in sandals on dusty paths, a person could use a good foot cleansing. But, the person who did the washing was ordinarily a household slave. In this case, Jesus, the Master—not to mention the Messiah and God’s own Son—did the washing. Jesus did the work of a slave for his disciples.
What must these men have thought? They had followed Jesus not because they felt they deserved such favors from him but because he asked them and because they believed—with sometimes wavering faith—that he was the Messiah from God. Now he stooped to wash their feet.
Peter spoke what the others must have felt. “No,” he said, “you shall never wash my feet.”
But Jesus said it must be so. He was showing them how much he loved them, the kind of love that would lead him to the cross for them and for all the world. And he was preparing them for what he wanted to see from them too—and from all of his followers.
“I have set an example,” Jesus explained, “that you should do as I have done for you.” They too should wash the feet of others. That was a way of saying that they were to serve others and that no task was too menial.
These unlikely men, minus the betrayer (who left shortly after this), were to be the leaders of Christ’s church on earth. But they were to be servant leaders. They were to be “foot washers.” And Jesus asks no less of us today. He calls on us to serve, to “wash feet.”
Did the disciples learn the lesson? Not right then! We learn that later in that very evening they argued about which of them was to be considered the greatest. Jesus had, earlier, told them that he would die. Jesus had washed their feet. And they argued about who of them was the greatest!
Isn’t that about what we might expect? How many times haven’t you met a fellow Christian for the first time, and in short order, he or she was telling you (maybe boasting?) about all the things each had done at church: “I was president of the congregation.” “I taught Sunday school for 15 years.” “I served meals for all the funerals.” “I served on every committee ever formed.”
You get the point don’t you? Have you ever done that?
We serve, but we want to make sure others know we have served. We volunteer, but then we complain about how much we do and how little others do. We have ideas of how to do things, and we feel hurt if they are not done our way. We are never far away from wanting to be considered “the greatest.” It’s called self-righteousness, or work-righteousness.
Jesus knew that about his disciples, then and now. So what did he do about it? He stayed on course to die on the cross for their sins and ours. He continued to teach them, knowing that they would gradually catch on. He prayed an earnest prayer for them and for us that very night. And he gave a tangible expression of his forgiveness, a simple meal that we repeat to this day.
Jesus gave them bread. “This is my body,” he said. He gave them wine. “This is my blood,” he added. And he became explicit: “This is the body that I give for you,” he explained. “This is the blood that I shed for you. This I do so you may be sure you have the forgiveness of sins.”
Jesus gave them and he gives us in the Holy Supper what played out on the cross the next day. We cannot explain it (real bread, real body; real wine, real blood—given for us and to us—for forgiveness!). We just take his word for it. We rejoice in it. We come to receive it for our sure comfort. We come humbled by it and made more ready by it to serve.
What about the eleven disciples? Did they ever catch on? Well, we still don’t readily remember all of their names. They went out not to make a name for themselves but to proclaim to the world the only name given among us by which we must be saved. They carried the gospel message to the far reaches of their world: to Great Britain, to India, to Iran, to Greece, to Russia, to North Africa—to name a few places.
They took huge risks in service. All but one of these men, we have reason to believe, gave their lives for the gospel of Jesus Christ. They are counted among the martyrs of Christendom. The last one was not executed, but he was exiled. And God used him, John, to write a gospel, a series of letters, and the book of Revelation in the Scriptures.
It is safe to say that those men became the servant leaders that Jesus intended them to be.
Now Jesus turns to us. As he gives us again this evening his body and blood for our forgiveness, will we do less than offer our bodies in return as living sacrifices to his cause? Jesus comforts us; let us bring his eternal comfort to others. Jesus died for all the world; let us do our part in telling the world what that means. Jesus came, the Servant of God, and washed us clean from all sin. Let us go from here and be servant leaders in his church. Amen.
John 13:2 The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. 3 Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; 4 so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. 5 After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. … 14 Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet.
They were a motley bunch, some might say “ragtag,” these 12 people of the passion. Several were unschooled fishermen. One was a contemptible tax collector, one a political zealot (or patriot), one with a Greek name, one from the obscure village of Cana in Galilee. A couple of them were known to be quick-tempered. In this series of sermons, we’ve already heard about the traitor and the denier. Most of us cannot remember all of their names.
In many ways they were just like you and me.
As the hours raced relentlessly toward Jesus’ death, these men gathered with Jesus for the Passover meal and for a night they would never forget—a night we must never forget.
Early in the evening, as the meal was being served, Jesus did something extraordinary. He took a towel, poured water into a basin, and began to wash his disciples’ feet.
It was not out of the ordinary to get one’s feet washed on entering a home. After walking in sandals on dusty paths, a person could use a good foot cleansing. But, the person who did the washing was ordinarily a household slave. In this case, Jesus, the Master—not to mention the Messiah and God’s own Son—did the washing. Jesus did the work of a slave for his disciples.
What must these men have thought? They had followed Jesus not because they felt they deserved such favors from him but because he asked them and because they believed—with sometimes wavering faith—that he was the Messiah from God. Now he stooped to wash their feet.
Peter spoke what the others must have felt. “No,” he said, “you shall never wash my feet.”
But Jesus said it must be so. He was showing them how much he loved them, the kind of love that would lead him to the cross for them and for all the world. And he was preparing them for what he wanted to see from them too—and from all of his followers.
“I have set an example,” Jesus explained, “that you should do as I have done for you.” They too should wash the feet of others. That was a way of saying that they were to serve others and that no task was too menial.
These unlikely men, minus the betrayer (who left shortly after this), were to be the leaders of Christ’s church on earth. But they were to be servant leaders. They were to be “foot washers.” And Jesus asks no less of us today. He calls on us to serve, to “wash feet.”
Did the disciples learn the lesson? Not right then! We learn that later in that very evening they argued about which of them was to be considered the greatest. Jesus had, earlier, told them that he would die. Jesus had washed their feet. And they argued about who of them was the greatest!
Isn’t that about what we might expect? How many times haven’t you met a fellow Christian for the first time, and in short order, he or she was telling you (maybe boasting?) about all the things each had done at church: “I was president of the congregation.” “I taught Sunday school for 15 years.” “I served meals for all the funerals.” “I served on every committee ever formed.”
You get the point don’t you? Have you ever done that?
We serve, but we want to make sure others know we have served. We volunteer, but then we complain about how much we do and how little others do. We have ideas of how to do things, and we feel hurt if they are not done our way. We are never far away from wanting to be considered “the greatest.” It’s called self-righteousness, or work-righteousness.
Jesus knew that about his disciples, then and now. So what did he do about it? He stayed on course to die on the cross for their sins and ours. He continued to teach them, knowing that they would gradually catch on. He prayed an earnest prayer for them and for us that very night. And he gave a tangible expression of his forgiveness, a simple meal that we repeat to this day.
Jesus gave them bread. “This is my body,” he said. He gave them wine. “This is my blood,” he added. And he became explicit: “This is the body that I give for you,” he explained. “This is the blood that I shed for you. This I do so you may be sure you have the forgiveness of sins.”
Jesus gave them and he gives us in the Holy Supper what played out on the cross the next day. We cannot explain it (real bread, real body; real wine, real blood—given for us and to us—for forgiveness!). We just take his word for it. We rejoice in it. We come to receive it for our sure comfort. We come humbled by it and made more ready by it to serve.
What about the eleven disciples? Did they ever catch on? Well, we still don’t readily remember all of their names. They went out not to make a name for themselves but to proclaim to the world the only name given among us by which we must be saved. They carried the gospel message to the far reaches of their world: to Great Britain, to India, to Iran, to Greece, to Russia, to North Africa—to name a few places.
They took huge risks in service. All but one of these men, we have reason to believe, gave their lives for the gospel of Jesus Christ. They are counted among the martyrs of Christendom. The last one was not executed, but he was exiled. And God used him, John, to write a gospel, a series of letters, and the book of Revelation in the Scriptures.
It is safe to say that those men became the servant leaders that Jesus intended them to be.
Now Jesus turns to us. As he gives us again this evening his body and blood for our forgiveness, will we do less than offer our bodies in return as living sacrifices to his cause? Jesus comforts us; let us bring his eternal comfort to others. Jesus died for all the world; let us do our part in telling the world what that means. Jesus came, the Servant of God, and washed us clean from all sin. Let us go from here and be servant leaders in his church. Amen.
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