Absalom started a revolt against his father, King David. The prince schmoozed Israelite noblemen and soldiers until he had enough support to claim the kingship. David had to run for his life. An ugly civil war broke out. It ended with a woodland battle where Absalom got caught in a tree and one of David’s officers, Joab, killed him.
Although the end of a civil war should’ve put David in a good mood, it did the opposite. He started wailing and moaning for his dead son. He went up to his room and let out such loud groans that his victorious soldiers had to sneak back into the city as if they just lost a battle. The citizens in the streets could hear David carrying on with a nearly hysterical fit that made them all hushed with shame. Finally, the same officer who’d finished off Absalom confronted David and gave the king a scolding. “Snap out of it,” Joab basically said. “You’re acting like you care more about the people who wanted you dead and as if you hate the people who love you. You’d better go show your men some approval or you’ll have an uglier mess than Absalom’s coup.”
Thankfully, the king listened to Joab, but the point is David had lots of strong emotions. It made him furious to hear Goliath blaspheme the LORD. It made him sad when he didn’t know if Bathsheba’s baby would die or live. You can hear his emotions ring out in the Psalms he wrote, from melancholy to resentment to exuberance.
Years later, a relative of David’s also felt emotional highs and lows. Jesus showed it in the time leading up to his death. He said: I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer, for I tell you, I will not eat it again until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God. Mark doesn’t talk much about Jesus’ sentimental remarks. But even Mark’s action-packed business-like style shares an astounding statement. Jesus told his friends: My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow, even to the point of death. Does that not relate to you? Can you think of anything more human or uplifting to you than Jesus saying: Yes, I too know how it feels to get overwhelmed?
So, let’s focus this evening on the emotions our Lord felt personally. And you’ll find that the Last Supper takes us through a rich tapestry of feelings. Most importantly, we learn what strong feelings Jesus himself has about this Meal that connects us to him and each other.
Each of Jesus’ “Amen” statements in tonight’s Gospel can open our eyes to some strong sentiments in our Savior’s heart. Verse 18 reports, “While they were reclining and eating, Jesus said, ‘Amen I tell you: One of you will betray me, one who is eating with me.’ They began to be sorrowful and said to him one by one, ‘Surely not I?’ He said to them, ‘It is one of the Twelve, one who is dipping bread with me in the dish. Indeed, the Son of Man is going to go just as it has been written about him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that man if he had not been born.’”
When we talk about Christ feeling strong emotions, it should not leave any room for the idea that his emotions ruled him or he had no control over them. When he said “the Son of Man is going to go just as it has been written about him,” you can see God guiding and making sure all predictions about the Messiah would come true. No emotional rollercoaster would jeopardize God’s prophecy of Christ dying for us.
His suffering would even include a close friend betraying him. But God never said which close friend. It was still Judas’ fault he chose to fill that role. Furthermore, Jesus made clear he wanted Judas to repent even if he did the sin. When God says: “It’s better if so-and-so had not been born,” he means “so-and-so” is going to hell. But the Lord wouldn’t say that unless he also wanted to stop it from happening.
Imagine how that must’ve felt for Jesus. You don’t have to if you’ve had tough conversations with a person headed down a bad path. You know how Jesus felt talking to Judas. Christ also wants you to learn here that we cannot use God’s all-knowing power as an excuse to flirt with the devil. Yes, God predicted one of Christ’s friends would betray him. God also knew Judas would take that role. Yet, we jump to the wrong conclusion if you let yourself think: “Since God knows all and can do anything, he’d stop me from wrecking my faith. I can just put my life or my mind on auto-pilot since God’s the one with the plan.”
Paul taught the Corinthians that believers ought to examine themselves before taking Communion. Even Jesus put his followers through a preparation process as they took the first Lord’s Supper. If you look at verse 19 of tonight’s Gospel, Christ’s warning sparked a sincere reaction among the disciples. He announced that the traitor was with them, but kept it very vague and general. This forced each person at the meal with him to think carefully: “Could I do something that bad? Jesus certainly taught me I have nothing but evil thoughts gushing from my heart. I really need a solution from him to quiet my fears.”
And with an inner monologue like that, Jesus’ announcement about the traitor showed each of them taking Communion that night how much they needed his body and blood. When you wonder about the best way to prepare for the Lord’s Supper, you could follow a similar procedure. Like those disciples, ask yourself: “Could I do something as awful as betray my Jesus?” The answer is: “Yes.” And, for those of us who can admit such a scary thing, the Lord says: “Here. Now you will appreciate even more what help my body and blood give you.”
Second, Christ showed joyful emotions when he shared these words. “Amen I tell you: I will certainly not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.” As somber and serious as their discussion of the traitor was at that meal, we may picture Jesus saying words like these with an exuberant or at least a somewhat happy tone. He was also enjoying himself at this meal.
We won’t spend a lot of time on the verses that describe getting the Passover ready. But rest assured: this holiday was a big deal for a Jew like Jesus. As a true human, this celebration connected him to his cultural history. It united him with a national family. It reminded him, his disciples, and us: the God of Israel makes it his business to rescue people from slavery and death (as he did with the blood in Egypt).
Jesus was having a good time. He did not begrudgingly say: “Well, I guess I have to give you pitiful wretches my body and blood.” No, Paul told the Ephesians that Christ relates to his Church as a husband relates to his wife. Yes, in this case, the bride gets a lot more benefit out of her marriage to Jesus. We get forgiveness, rescue from hell, and everlasting life. That’s worth getting excited about. But we, the Church, are not the only ones excited to enter this marriage. The groom really looks forward to sharing his body with us as well.
However, there is more going on here than a couple consummating their love. When he talks about drinking of the fruit of the vine, Jesus invokes all kinds of friendship imagery. He does not mean: “I won’t drink wine until we all enter Heaven.” Then, he would’ve broken his own promise by drinking the vinegar cocktail from the sponge on the cross. No, he means instead something like: “I really enjoy this formal fine dining with you. I enjoy the ritual of getting together and raising a glass. I like the fellowship that comes with sipping a strong drink together. I’m enjoying this moment and I’d look forward to doing this again sometime. But first, I need to face some cold dark hardships. For the rest of your life, you’ll also face some cold dark hardships.”
“But, how about this” Jesus asks. “Let’s plan to do this again. I’ll use the joy of feasting with you disciples here and that will get me through my hell on earth. And you believers in southeast Wisconsin 2000 years from now, you use this joyful meal to get yourselves through the hellish dark times that you face. My body,” says Jesus, “and my blood have all the power in the world to do that for you.”
Jesus says, “Let’s have another drink together after this, an official toast, a strong beverage in the new creation to celebrate getting done with this stinking universe.” He might put it differently, but he designed this fruit of the vine promise so we’d anticipate something nice. Communion reminds us of it too. His body and blood justify us, but he also reminds us here: “You and I have a date to raise another glass.” With his first disciples, let’s realize: “Christ just said we’d have resurrected mouths to drink with him later.” Jesus ate fish in his risen body. Maundy Thursday promises us new real mouths for that drink. So, we consider his suffering, but let’s also leave with music in our hearts just as he and his disciples left singing a hymn.