Is it I?

Today marks a day traditionally referred to as “Spy Wednesday.” Appropriately so. Before we get to Maundy Thursday, let’s pause to reflect on what was going on behind the scenes. A lot of our life happens “behind the scenes,” in fact. And more is going on around and at the table that evening than anyone realized. It's all too easy to put on a public face while living a double life behind the scenes, when no one is watching, live a double life. In the account recorded by Mark and Matthew, we find a helpful clue to understanding our hearts and our deep need for the gospel.

As they sat at table, our Lord began to experience the weight of his impending death. He looks at his disciples, the ones who have been with him throughout his earthly ministry, and he says, “Truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me.” Of course, it’s unthinkable. How could anyone betray Jesus after all they had seen and heard? The disciples are bewildered. In Luke’s account, they look around suspiciously, wondering who the betrayer might be—John doesn’t consider it all. Rather, his focus is on Jesus’ incredible love for his friends. However, in both Mark and Matthew, the response to Jesus’ statement is profound: “Is it I?”

Imagine that for a moment. These same men who had walked countless miles with our Lord, over hills and down into valleys, through villages small and large, pausing to heal, to comfort, to forgive, to work wonders—they were in the front row of witnesses to all these things. And yet, they’re concerned about their own ability to betray the one they love—“Is it I?” Peter, being Peter, speaks from feigned confidence that he would never do such a thing. We know how that played out. But what strikes me so profoundly is this: if they can wonder about the faithfulness of their hearts, given all they’d seen and heard, what about me? “Is it I?” Could I betray Jesus like that? The answer is yes—and it’s true for you, also. What would it take? Thirty pieces of silver? A better spouse, one who “gets you?” A more lucrative career? What’s your Achilles heel? We all have them. We betray our Lord every single day—in thought, word, and deed. In small and large ways, we put on our paper crowns instead of his imperishable one. “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?”

The answer, of course, is coming on Easter Sunday. The resurrected Lord Jesus is the only one who can save us from our bodies of death—who can save us from ourselves. Unless we look in the mirror unflinchingly and see the real person staring back, we cannot experience the incomprehensible joy of our Lord’s love in the resurrection. There can be no forgiveness without awareness of sin; there can be no glory without abasement. We cannot go higher unless we go lower. As we prepare for Holy Week, I invite you to go down, to get lower, to see yourself honestly. Then, bring that to the foot of the cross. Perhaps you hit “keeping a holy Lent” out of the park. Realize that no matter what your Lent looked like, it isn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for the twelve disciples gathered around that Passover table, and it isn’t enough for you and me. If you go down, know this—you will be lifted up by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. His love will lift your head, and you will see his glorious face.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it

prone to leave the God I love;

here’s my heart; O take and seal it;

seal it for thy courts above.