Luke 23:8-9 “When Herod saw Jesus, he was greatly pleased, because for a long time he had been wanting to see him. From what he had heard about him, he hoped to see him perform some miracle. He plied him with many questions, but Jesus gave him no answer.”

Sometimes, we like to be the center of attention. Generally speaking, we don’t like to be ignored. We want people to value us enough to listen, and to share with us what is important to them.

At other times, we don’t want people to look at us at all. When my son used to do something cute, and we looked at him and smiled, he became embarrassed: “Don’t look at me, daddy.” In public, we know that it is impolite to stare. When we catch someone staring at us, we immediately suspect that there is something odd about our appearance. Do I have food hanging from my chin? Is there something in my hair?

It makes a difference why we are getting the attention. It did to Jesus, too. That is why he did not respond to the kind of attention King Herod was giving him.

Herod had wanted to see him for a long time. To say that Herod was “greatly pleased” is a rather mild way of translating his reaction to finally meeting Jesus. Herod was overjoyed. He wanted to celebrate the opportunity in front of him. What a wonderful thing, it might seem, the lone bright spot in this darkest day in Jesus’ life.

Can we imagine that a desire to see Jesus would ever be anything but good? Though our Savior wants to be known to all people and be their source of joy, Herod reveals the human heart is so twisted that, yes, even the desire to see and know Jesus can be evidence of evil, and not good.

What did Herod want from Jesus? “From what he had heard about him, he hoped to see him perform some miracle.” Here is Jesus, the Son of God, Creator of the Universe, Redeemer of the World, standing in front of Herod at last, and what is Herod thinking? “Hey, I’ve got Harry Houdini here.” He wanted to see a miracle, not because he was coming to Jesus in desperate need of his mercy. Not even because he was looking for a sign to bolster his faith. Herod wanted nothing more than a magic trick, something to entertain him, a pleasant diversion from the pressures of palace life.

Herod’s reasons for seeking Jesus still appeal to some today. God still can and does work miracles in the lives of his people. But recognize the danger when people make them the center of attention in Christian life and worship. Jesus easily becomes a sideshow. In our own more sober circles, we may ask ourselves why we value our worship time. Do we recognize it as the source of our spiritual life? Or do we desire to be entertained for a little while–whether at church, or in our reading, or in the music we listen to. Humor in our lives is good, but is Jesus an appropriate subject of our jokes? Or is that a vain misuse of his name? Do we have irreverent reasons for the time we seek with him?

Jesus’ answer to Herod’s irreverence is powerful. “Jesus gave him no answer.” Jesus would not perform for the king. How easy it would have been for Jesus to do just one quick trick and put an end to the humiliation. Maybe he could have even so endeared himself to Herod that he could have been set free!

But for us, Jesus’ silence is golden. Jesus displays his perfect love, even for Herod, by not giving in to his childish desires. He will not reinforce this kooky king in his sin, but he treats him with silent respect, even when that respect was not returned.

And here’s the point that Jesus is making to us: Not that he is someone we should pity for being made a sideshow, but that he is someone we revere, and love, and trust, because he has no other reason to put up with this than that it was necessary to save us from our sins. This is another stop on his trip to the cross. It is his love for us that keeps him silent and makes him willing to endure these blasphemies. He let them treat him like someone with absolutely no value, so that he could share his priceless value with us, and so that God might consider us his most dear and precious possessions.

In suffering such irreverence and dishonor, Jesus pays us the highest respect and the greatest honor, because he is revealing just how much you and I are worth to him.

Luke 22:24-26 “Also, a dispute arose among them as to which of them was considered to be the greatest. Jesus said to them, ‘The kings of the Gentiles Lord it over them; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors. But you are not to be like that. Instead, the greatest among you should be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves.’”

This was not the first time the disciples had this little fight. James and John had tried to become Jesus’ right and left hand men in the past. It earned them the resentment of the other ten.

Maybe the events of Palm Sunday, the cheers of the crowd and Hosannas to the King, stirred the whole thing up again. Like most of the Jews, Jesus’ disciples had trouble understanding just what kind of a Kingdom Jesus runs. When they heard “Kingdom” they thought of armies, palaces, land, and power. They wanted wealth. They wanted authority. They wanted power.

They needed a good spanking. Their understanding of God’s kingdom was childish. Their thirst for worldly greatness was sinful. Jesus provided the necessary chastisement verbally. “The kings of the Gentiles Lord it over them; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors. But you are not to be like that.” That might sound rather mild and gentle to us today. But don’t forget that these men were Jews. For them the Gentiles had always been “unclean.” To be compared to them was a shame. Jesus made it clear that controlling other people’s lives to serve yourself was not the way for his followers. Complimenting yourself with fancy, boastful titles like “Benefactor” was NOT a sign that you were one of God’s children. As the cross drew near, the disciples had better things to be concerned about.

Ungodly ambition has not disappeared from the church. Anytime someone wants to build a huge church or ministry, there is a danger of wanting to use it to display how wonderful, successful, or influential WE are instead of using it to display the self-sacrificing love and forgiveness of our Savior. Though God expects us to be responsible, concerned, active citizens of our country, sometimes Christian fascination with political power is born of this same sort of spirit. Concern for personal or worldly greatness does not serve our Savior.

The disciples’ concern even plays into the account of Jesus’ suffering for sin. While Jesus is preparing to face beatings, crucifixion, and the horrible wrath of God at sin, does he have the sympathy and support of his closest friends? No, they are too busy arguing about who’s the best. Later, when Jesus asks for their prayers in the garden, they take care of their own comfort by falling asleep. Together with these men, didn’t our own selfish concerns make the cross necessary in the first place?

Jesus was with them as one who served. He healed people, touched people, forgave people. He touched the leper before healing him. He forgave the adulteress. He fed the unappreciative crowds and would not let them make him king. He stayed up all night for these people. He skipped meals all day for these people. In just a few hours, he was going to give his life for these people. He didn’t do it because he had so much to gain. Love led him to serve. That is how Jesus exercised his Lordship, and power, and authority. For us, he lived the life we could not live. For us he died the death we could not die.

In such service, we know how truly great he is. Jesus offers his disciples such service despite their ambitions for glory and power, despite how little they value service and love to others. His service made our discipleship possible. His service shows the disciple what true greatness is like.

Romans 8: 33-34“Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died–more than that, who was raised to life–is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.”

You know that you are constantly being accused and condemned. Job was a man famous for the terrible tragedies he suffered. The Bible tells us that behind those tragedies were the Devil’s accusations. “Job’s faith is shallow and untested. Job is a fair-weather Christian. Job loves God out of selfish interest, but make his life a little uncomfortable and he will curse you to your face,” he told the Lord. He wanted to turn Job against the Lord, and the Lord against Job, and he picked on the weakest thing he could find in the man to do so.

The last book of the Bible, Revelation, says that the devil is still “the accuser of our brothers.” He is still trying to turn God against us by reminding him of our sins. And when he gets no satisfaction with God, then he turns on us and goes after our own consciences. He plays on our guilt. He whispers in our ears, “Look at what you have done.” Remember The Lion King? The young lion Simba is playing in the canyon where he doesn’t belong. His jealous uncle Scar starts a stampede of wildebeests that threatens to trample the future king of the beasts. When Simba’s father Mufasa rescues his son, Mufasa barely escapes the canyon himself, only to be thrown back in by the evil Scar to be stampeded to death. But Mufasa’s murder all takes place beyond Simba’s view. Scar then goes to play on Simba’s guilt. “What have you done, Simba?” Look, it’s all your fault that your father died rescuing you.

That’s what the devil does to your heart. “What have you done? Look at the mess you have made. You can’t fix this. And God certainly isn’t going to love you anymore.” He charges you with sin. He condemns. He does everything he can to drive us away from God.

But look at the way God defends us. “It is God who justifies.” It would be one thing if we weren’t really guilty of our sins. Then it would make sense for God to defend us. But our guilt is real. It would be one thing if our sin were really only a matter of ignorance. But more often than not, we knew what we were doing. It would be one thing if our sin were really only directed at other people, and didn’t involve God. But no matter whom we hurt, the commands we break are always God’s. Still, he justifies. Still, he defends. Still, he does not hold our guilt against us. How can he defend us this way?

“Christ Jesus, who died–more than that, who was raised to life–is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.” God justifies us because justice for our every sin has already been carried out in the death of Jesus Christ, our substitute. God has raised him from the dead as proof that he accepts Jesus’ death in place of ours. God justifies because he cannot escape the evidence that our debt to heaven has been paid. Two thousand years may have passed since the cross, but there in glory, at the Father’s side, is the living Lord Jesus with all power and authority. He is a little hard to miss, the one who paid for our sin, in that condition. We may continue to sin, but Jesus continues to intercede, to plead, to go to his Father on our behalf. He demands that our sins not be held against us because of the price he paid. Now you can ignore the devil’s accusations. Your God in heaven certainly does. He continues to defend us, because God is on our side.

Romans 4:25 “He was delivered over to death for our sins.”

While Pontius Pilate fumbled around with the case against Jesus in front of him, God’s court of law passed down a very clear verdict of guilt. It was a verdict Jesus had not earned, but a verdict to which he willingly bowed. God declared him guilty of the sins of the world. In God’s court of law, Jesus was the guiltiest man alive.

That means Jesus was guilty of the very sins his enemies committed against him–the betrayal of Judas, the denial of Peter, the cowardice of the disciples, the injustice of Pilate, the hatred of the Jewish leaders. The suffering they imposed on his body was at the same time being laid on Jesus’ account, and he became guilty of committing the same cruel acts he had to bear.

Even more, Jesus became guilty of the worst atrocities ever committed. In God’s eyes, Jesus was personally responsible for the death of millions of people in two world wars. Jesus raped and murdered helpless women and children in war-torn Syria. Jesus designed and carried out terrorist attacks across Western Europe and the United States: The Boston Marathon, Brussels, Paris, San Bernardino, the Parliament building in London. Jesus deceived people into believing in Baal, Buddha, Mormonism, atheism, and the New Age movement. Jesus is guilty of drug abuse, acts of prostitution, thieving, torture, and cannibalism.

It’s hard to think about him that way, isn’t it. But the guilty verdict he received strikes much closer to home than that. As far as God is concerned, it is Jesus who glanced in the rear view mirror for a second look at the lady in the short skirt on your way home from work today. It is Jesus who lost control of his tongue and vented his emotions when you screamed at your parents after school. It is Jesus who trusts God so little and worries himself into ulcers or heart palpitations when life scares you so much. It is Jesus who is holding the grudge when you are refusing to forgive. That is what Paul means when he says, “God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us.” That is what Isaiah had in mind when he wrote, “The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.” God said Jesus was guilty of our sins–a verdict he did not deserve.

But because he does, God promises us his grace, a gift of love and forgiveness that we have not deserved, either.

Matthew 26:21-24“When evening came, Jesus was reclining with the Twelve. And while they were eating, he said, ‘I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me.’ They were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, ‘Surely not I, Lord?’ Jesus replied, ‘The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.’”

Sin never makes sense, and no one ever truly gets away with it. Sometimes this is demonstrated clearly, as in the case of the bank robber who handed a teller a note claiming he had a gun and demanding money. But he wrote the note on one of his own bank deposit slips, with his name, address, and phone number clearly printed on the other side. The police were waiting for him in his own house before he got home.

Judas should have known better than to think he could hide his sin. Any Jewish boy knew what the Old Testament Scriptures said about the all-seeing, ever-watchful eyes of God. Psalm 139 asks, “Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths you are there.” God asked through Jeremiah, “Am I only a God nearby,” declares the Lord, “and not a God far away? Can anyone hide in secret places so that I cannot see him?” declares the Lord. “Do not I fill the heaven and the earth?” declares the Lord.”

As one of Jesus’ followers, Judas had seen those all-knowing, ever-watchful eyes in action. How many times hadn’t Jesus known the thoughts of his enemies and answered their complaints even before they spoke? This very week, Jesus had told his disciples exactly where to find the donkey on which he would ride into Jerusalem. This very day, he had told two disciples that a man carrying a jar of water would lead them to the house where they could prepare the Passover. Jesus knew. Could Judas really believe that Jesus would not know his betrayer? Does this not reveal the foolishness of Judas’s sin?

Judas has been villainized and criticized for his sin. He has become an easy target. But don’t our sins betray our Savior, too? Are we less foolish when we think we are acting in secret? The man traveling on business who chooses to watch the adult programming available on his hotel room TV is no less known to Jesus than Judas was. The teens who think they are sneaking the booze past their parents aren’t sneaking it past their Savior. The unmarried couple who feel that what they do in private is no one else’s business should know that the heavenly Father has still made it his. The malicious gossip and nasty tales people tell may go no farther than the next person, but that doesn’t mean that our Lord doesn’t hear.

Ask yourself this question: Why did Jesus reveal that he knew what Judas was going to do? What purpose could it possibly serve? Jesus wasn’t going to change his own plans that night. “The Son of Man will go just as it has been written about him.” The other disciples were in no position to make use of this information. What Jesus said, he said especially for the sake of Judas. Jesus was giving Judas a chance to repent.

The full implications about our Savior’s grace do not strike us until we realize Jesus fully knew that Judas would not repent. Judas kept up his hypocritical charade until the very end. Judas followed through with his plan by betraying Jesus with a kiss. Jesus knew. Still, Jesus gave him a chance. Forgiveness was there, waiting for Judas to repent, even though Jesus was certain Judas would not. Aren’t we right to conclude that such a Savior would never give up on you or me, either?

Jesus knew his betrayer, but he knew so much more. He knew the price he would pay in the coming night and the coming day. He knew about the scourging and the crucifixion. He knew that he would be forsaken by his Father in heaven. Still, “The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him.” Betrayer, or no betrayer, Jesus was willing. He was determined, on this night, to offer his life in place of ours as the atoning sacrifice for our sins. The determination we hear in these final warnings to Judas reveal the graciousness of our Savior to you and me, too.

Ephesians 5:8 “For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light.”

Every proud parent has high expectations for his offspring. In the Disney movie The Lion King there is that scene in which the hero Simba is confronted by the ghost of his father Mufasa. Mufasa tells him that he is disappointed in him, because “You are more than what you have become.” The point is: Simba is living his life as a goof-off instead of assuming the responsibilities he should be performing as the rightful king. Perhaps your parents played on a sense of family-pride to get you to live up to their expectations. “A Jones doesn’t give up when things don’t go your way.” Or maybe you’ve seen parents try to blame the other side of the family tree when Junior started showing character flaws.

Our Lord also has high expectations of us when we become his children and members of his family by faith. But he doesn’t rely on New Age psychology, or guilt trips, or family pride to encourage us to reach toward his goals. He takes us back to his grace. He helps us understand who we are, what he has made us.

At one time you were darkness. For the Christians in the city of Ephesus, people who grew up Gentiles worshiping the ancient Greek and Roman gods, this had been their condition for the majority of their lives. They grew up worshiping the wrong god. They grew up learning to excuse or accept behaviors that were sinful and destructive. They grew up in fear, never certain that their gods cared for them now, or where they were going when they died.

For some of us, our time in darkness may have been relatively short. But all of us were once darkness, if only from birth to Baptism. Even now, the darkness lurks within. And so today, things that should be condemned and fill people with disgust or horror are insisted upon as rights. Filthy talk is called a sense of humor. Greed is called healthy ambition or a good work ethic. Self-righteous, self-promoting busybodies are described as pious or devout. God condemns it all as darkness.

And that is what we were. But now, Paul says, you are light in the Lord. Now the light of God’s love, and the light of God’s truth, is shining on us and shining in us. The light of God’s word has shown us that God is not some moody, vicious monster we must constantly pay off to make him like us. He is the God who freely gives. He freely gave his own Son in payment for our sins. He freely gives forgiveness no matter how great the sin, no matter how poor the sinner. He freely makes us his own children. He freely invites us to receive and enjoy all the blessings of our home with him. The light of such love and truth change the way everything looks to us. That light pierces into our own hearts, making them the home of our Savior and his light by faith.

That truth has highest importance for eternity. It means that after we die, we will rise again to live with God forever. We will ever bask in the beautiful, warming, joy-giving light of his love in heaven.

But it also means something for us right now, which is more to Paul’s point in these verses. You are light in the Lord. That light of God’s love and truth, light which showed you how all your sins were taken away and why God considers you holy and precious, that light also lives in you. You have something new that you didn’t have before. You have the power of God’s love in Christ living in you, a new source of life and strength, so that you can live as children of the light, starting today.

John 9:13-15 “They brought to the Pharisees the man who had been blind.  Now the day on which Jesus had made the mud and opened the man’s eyes was a Sabbath.  Therefore the Pharisees also asked him how he had received his sight.  ‘He put mud on my eyes,’ the man replied, ‘and I washed, and now I see.’ Some of the Pharisees said, ‘This man is not from God, for he does not keep the Sabbath.’ But others asked, ‘How can a sinner do such miraculous signs?’ So they were divided.”

The title “Pharisee” was once worn as a badge of honor. For us it’s an insult.  Yet each of us knows their sin by experience.  Self-righteousness and legalism plague us every day, and there are so many subtleties to these sins.  There is the explicit self-righteousness of those who keep their own list of man-made rules with the idea that it gives them a higher level of spirituality.  We see it when some Christian considers himself superior because he doesn’t drink alcohol, or play cards, or get married, or eat certain foods.  Even in our own churches we are tempted to make rules that regulate every minute detail of congregational life. That is easier than doing the hard work of teaching people to live by Christian principals and confronting them when they fail to do so.

But those are the easy examples to spot. There is also such thing as a “reverse Phariseeism.”  I once read of a pastor who was talking about legalism in his Bible class.  As an example he mentioned the fact that he attended a Bible college where they strictly enforced rules against beards or mustaches, and no hair could be worn below the ears.  Yet everyday the students walked past a hundred year old painting of the college’s founder, with a beard, and mustache, and hair below his ears.  While most people in the class laughed, one member pointed out that now they were the ones who were self-righteous–considering themselves better and more spiritual than those “legalistic Pharisees” as they talked behind their backs and laughed at them.  It’s one thing to recognize self-righteousness. We become guilty of it when we use someone else’s failing to elevate ourselves.

The problem lies in our hearts.  We are sorely tempted to make ourselves–not the Word, not our Savior–the standard by which everyone else should be judged.  We fall into a mindset that says, “This church would be a lot better off if everyone else were more like me.”  The truth is, the church would be in big trouble if everyone were more like me. The church would be better off if everyone were more like Jesus. That’s something only Jesus can make you see.

The Pharisees’ self-righteousness and legalism made them blind. They couldn’t see the truth. They couldn’t see themselves. They couldn’t see their Savior even when he made a blind man see.  Jesus later called them blind guides and blind fools.  That is the danger self-righteousness poses. It blinds us when confronted by the Savior.

Every day of our lives we get beat by our sinful nature. But Jesus helps us see when he draws us to look at him, and watch and follow him. Our vision fails when we look away to ourselves, our works, our ways, and our world.  But when we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus–his perfect life, his suffering on the cross, his payment for sin, his forgiveness–our blindness is gone, our spiritual vision 20/20, and our path through life to heaven clearly lit.  That view is bright with God’s love for us. In it we see that his solution for our sin doesn’t include anything we have to do.  Jesus has done it all, and that is also something that only he can make you see.

Exodus 20:5 “I, the Lord, your God, am a jealous God…”

Ordinarily when we think about jealousy, we think of it as a negative, and even sinful, emotion. It reveals a possessiveness, a self-serving concern, that leads people to say and do some very unloving things. Adultery, murder, and theft have all been committed in the name of jealousy.

It is entirely different if God is possessive of you and me. We belong to him in ways that no human being belongs to another. In fact, God’s claim on each of us is two-fold.

First, he is the one who created us and all things. We are the work of his hands. He provided the stuff from which we are made, and he has carefully and lovingly put us together in special and unique ways. He gave us minds which can think of incredible things, and bodies which can move and work in exciting and useful ways. Watching my children grow and develop reminded me of the miraculous way in which God put our bodies together. I watched them learn to crawl for the first time, saw them begin to grasp all the exciting possibilities which open up in the ability to move from place to place. As simple as it is, all of this comes from God, who made us. It is part of the reason that we are his.

But his second claim on us is much more costly, and much more dear. God has redeemed us. Even though we already belonged to him, he has paid a price so costly that no value could ever be put upon it. When we had turned away from him in sin and rebellion, he gave up the life and the blood of his only Son, in payment for our sin: just so that you might be his very own, and just so that I might be his very own, again. There is no greater sacrifice he could have given, no higher value that he could have placed upon us, so that we might be his people, and he might be our God.

Of course, since our first parents fell into sin, there has always been competition for our love and attention. For God’s people Israel it was especially the rival gods of their pagan neighbors. For us the rival gods have taken more subtle forms. They are turbocharged, or five-bedroom, or ultra high definition, or fixed rate of interest, or suitable for mature audiences only. They would like to have you, too. And do you know what they are willing to sacrifice for you? Nothing.

And so, doesn’t God have a right to be jealous for our love and attention, in light of all he has done for us? Doesn’t he show that he is serious about being your God, with all that it entails? Wouldn’t we be the greatest fools not to take him seriously, especially when we consider all his kindness to us?

John 18:11 “Jesus commanded Peter, ‘Put your sword away! Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me?’”

The popular Lenten hymn My Song Is Love Unknown, after remembering the calls to crucify Jesus, objects, “Why? What has my Lord done? What makes this rage and spite?” Samuel Crossman, the hymn writer, agonizes over the hatred and violence directed at this dear friend we love so much. When Lent rolls around, and we hear the passion history read and preached again, isn’t there a part of us that almost hopes that this year the story will be different, that Jesus will unveil his glory, and show them he is God, and fight back and defeat his enemies? “I object! I object to seeing my Savior suffer that way! Stop it! Stop it! Somebody do something to stop his suffering!”

But the Jesus  we love that way isn’t the real thing. The Jesus we love that way would be an idol we created ourselves. A Jesus who does not suffer for us could be many things. He could be our guide to show us the way. He could be our friend who really cares that things are going so badly for us. He could be our cheerleader, pumping us up for our challenges. He could be our miracle worker, making our pain go away. He just couldn’t be our Savior. And if he can’t be our Savior, then he can’t be our God.

When Jesus answers our objection by asking, “Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me?” he does more than answer it. He exposes it as sin. Sin doesn’t stop at messing up our behavior. We can’t even feel right. We emote sinfully. We can’t respond properly to the most important act of love he has ever done for us. Like Peter, we find ourselves fighting what God has done to save us.

How different is Jesus’ response to his suffering. He, too, agonized over the price he would pay in pain to save us. In the Garden of Gethsemane he begged, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me” (Matthew 26:30). The sweat poured from him like drops of blood. He would not watch this all take place, like Peter. He would feel every moment.

But at no point does Jesus object. At no point is Jesus unwilling. His perfect obedience to the Father’s will extended to the very wishes and desires that occupied his anxious heart. He redeems our cowardly and contrary hearts by offering the Father his perfectly willing and consenting heart in their place. “Shall I not drink the cup my Father has given me?” is Jesus statement of resolve.

And to what is Jesus consenting? Peter perceives only the faintest shadows of it at this point. We will never really know the agony Jesus knew in his soul. In the end, this was not the cup the Jews were giving Jesus in the mocking and beating. This was not the cup the Romans were giving Jesus in the scourging and the crucifixion. This was the cup the Father was giving Jesus as he drank the anger of God, and the hell that our sins had created, to spare us from drinking that cup ourselves. How can we object to the suffering that gives us such forgiveness, and freedom, and life? Jesus’ question answers the objection.

Sometimes a question mark is like an exclamation point. So it is with Jesus’ question to Peter. The greatest accomplishment in the history of the world does not come in a moment of thrilling ecstasy. It comes when our Savior drinks his cup of suffering, served by his own Father’s hand.