Not me!

When I read the Gospel accounts of the Last Supper, as we call it, I usually find myself feeling just a bit superior. I like to think that had I been there, I would have been able to resist the urge to question my own loyalty to Jesus aloud by saying, "Surely not I, Lord" (Matt. 26:22, NRSV). I like to think that I would have felt more secure in my belief in Jesus than his own brothers and sisters did - Mark 3 and John 7:5 show that Jesus' family had issues with his authority - John goes so far as to say that his brothers didn't believe in him at this time. But by doing this, have I become just as guilty as those who deserted Jesus on that night? Am I really capable of betraying Jesus? Or have I already?
One of the more popular worship choruses in recent years contains the line, "I'll never fall away". This declarative statement of eternal fidelity seems to fly directly in the face of observable statistics that a majority of people who are currently in the life of the church will not be there in 2-3 years. What a statistic! Those that sing "I'll never fall away" are the same who will stop attending a church because either it's filled with those that they deem as "hypocrites" or because the pastor just doesn't feed their "advanced spirituality" or because there aren't enough "mature Christians", presumably like them.
Yet, before I get too judgmental of these people, I need to ask myself, have I done the same thing? The answer is frightening.
It's so easy to pronounce judgment upon Peter for his spectacular denial. All four Gospels give an account of it: Matt. 26:33-35; Mark 14:29-31; Luke 22:31-34 and John 13:36-38. Therefore, there must really be something that is to be learned from this. If we look closer at the account in John, we see that after Jesus tells Peter that he can't follow where he is going right now, Peter proclaims to Jesus that he will gladly lay his life down for him. A familiar sentiment! Yet, right after this bold pronouncement from Peter, Jesus tells him that he won't only betray his "lord", but that he will do it three times before the sun rises! This seems astounding! How could someone who was so bold and daring for Christ one minute betray him not once, not twice, but three times that very night?
Could it be that Peter still didn't get it, much like those who greeted Christ at the city gates with palm branches and cries of "hosanna" only a few days before (see previous post for discussion on Palm Sunday)? I think so. yet how could one who followed Jesus for three years, day and night, fail to see the point? I would say because Peter still had in his mind what the messiah should be like. Peter had a picture of a triumphant messiah, not one who should suffer. He more than likely thought that life with Jesus would continue on with privileges, blessings and positions of honor! Sound familiar?
It is this very mindset that resonates both within myself and much of contemporary Christian culture today. We are searching for blessings, blessings that are tied to material wealth and gain, our best life now and earthly incentives for serving Jesus now. Yet, it was this very mindset that Jesus was addressing within Peter when he proclaimed Peter's denial. I wonder if that is the same mindset that is found within the multitudes who will leave the church. Even more so, I wonder if some of that mindset is within me.
The question that lies at hand is not an easy one to ask. I would like to think that my faith and belief system is bulletproof. I'd like to think that I couldn't possibly turn away from Christ or miss the point of serving him. I'd like to be able to confidently shout, "Not me!" Yet can I?
When I spend more time on proclaiming the sins of the people than in helping them, I miss the point. This is so excellently told by C.S. Lewis in The Screwtape Letters. If I am spending more time pointing my finger in a self-righteous fashion without extending the rest of my hand, I've missed the point.
Further, if I am prone towards spending hour after hour in self-reflection without addressing the need for more prayer, for more study, for more witnessing, then I am missing the point. I keep coming back to this theme of missing the point because I believe that it is so vital to understand. While it is necessary to call sin what it is and while it is so important to examine ourselves regularly, neither can be a substitute for love, grace and mercy. For if we can't extend our hands to those who don't know Christ, why should they be compelled to come home? Should we think if we shine a light upon their sins that they will listen? Perhaps a few will, but so many more will be turned off. What if, instead of throwing a rock, we try to build a bridge?
If I become so wrapped up in myself, I tend to get tunnel vision. I tend to get caught up in my own piety. While it is important to live a life of personal holiness, it must not be lived in isolation. Holiness is only complete in community. A relationship with Jesus does no good when it is continually pointed inward. If I leave the church altogether because I'm not getting fed enough, was I really dining at all? Or was I, all the time, standing up and proclaiming, "Not me!"
Do you see why I said that the answer to the earlier is frightening? It's frightening because it is so obvious that I surely would have run that night, too. I'm not nearly perfected enough in my faith to have been immune to that which struck every other disciple. Oh, I can debate as much. I'm sure there even might be those of you who are reading this have had or are having the same thought that I did. "Alright, pastor, thanks for the words, but you don't know my faith. I'd never fall away." And yet, by proclaiming that, have you already? Not literally, maybe. But by placing so much emphasis on self, have you inadvertently done that?
See, if we are saved by grace and not our own merit, then we must be willing to admit that we have room for growth. If I shout, "Not me!" What am I really saying? Essentially, I am saying that I am a complete work. I am saying that I am strong enough on my own or through my faith to be immune to falling away. Is that true?
I am saved through the working of the Holy Spirit in my life alone. This is an advantage that the disciples didn't have until Pentecost. So, along with that and the benefit of 2000 years of history, I could maybe stand more confidently, but I'm not talking about today. I'm talking about me standing in the Upper Room that night. All things being equal, me standing there prior to Pentecost, hearing Jesus proclaim the upcoming betrayal, would I say "Not me" like the others or would I say nothing?
It's so easy to say "Not me!" because we both want to please Jesus and we also want to build up our own faith. Yet, by doing so, do we miss the point of the abandoning? Perhaps the disciples abandoned Christ, not because their faith in him was too weak but perhaps because it was misplaced. Perhaps, the disciples were too reliant on Jesus to take care of everything and not really able to walk on their own - within his strength to be sure, though.
In closing, I'm saying this. Perhaps, just perhaps, my faith is based upon all that which Christ can do, a wonderful thing to be sure; but if I'm not able to walk out the door of my church and go across the street to both befriend someone in need and to tell them about Christ, haven't I just missed the point? Haven't I just said, "Not me!" and then gone out and done just as the disciples did that night?