Those Imperfect, Perplexing Disciples
AM Psalm 31 • PM Psalm 35
Isa. 7:10-25 • 2 Thess. 2:13-3:5 • Luke 22:14-30
Today’s reading from Luke describes the institution of the ceremony we celebrate every Sunday at St. Paul’s, the Holy Eucharist. The story of the Last Supper—Jesus’ hosting of the Passover meal with the 12 disciples—is told in all four of the gospels. The account in John’s gospel omits the actual sharing of the bread and the wine, but the story is similar in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, with two notable differences.
Recall that the Last Supper narratives not only comprise Jesus’ sharing of the bread and the wine as a sign of the new covenant with him but also warn the disciples that one of them will soon betray him. Notice that the accounts in Matthew and Mark relate that the forewarning of the betrayal happens before the blessing and distribution of the elements, while the Luke story has it coming after the bread and wine have been shared. I must admit that I cannot make sense of that difference. (As my little great nephew once said, “I have no earfly idea.”)
The difference that I find remarkable is the one manifest in the disciples’ response to Jesus’ presaging of the betrayal. The Matthew and Mark accounts are practically the same: As Matthew 26:23 puts it, “they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, ‘Surely not I, Lord?’” And Mark 14:19 has it this way: “They were saddened, and one by one they said to him, ‘Surely you don’t mean me?’” But the story in Luke takes the disciples’ reaction one step farther: After Jesus declares “woe to that man who betrays (the Son of God),” the disciples “began to question among themselves which of them it might be who would do this.” Then “[a] dispute also arose among them as to which of them was considered to be greatest.”
Oh, come on, fellows. No one declares, “How awful!” No one steps up to ask, “Is there any way we can prevent this?” It seems to me that they simply want to protect their hides with their “it isn’t me, is it” questions. And then to argue with one another about who was “the greatest?” Sheesh.
Both the Acts of the Apostles and the early historian Eusebius make it clear that, after Jesus’ death, the disciples (joined by Matthias, selected to replace the disgraced traitor Judas) traveled throughout the known world, preaching the gospel and supporting emergent churches. I take comfort in knowing that these twelve souls, imperfect as they were, could dedicate themselves to bringing about the kingdom of God. Perhaps, with all my imperfections, I might try to accomplish something similar.
Written by David Jolliffe
David sings in the choir at St. Paul’s.