Without Bodyguards

Without Bodyguards--January 30, 2019

"While [Jesus] was still speaking, suddenly a crowd came, and the one called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him; but Jesus said to him, 'Judas, is it with a kiss that you are betraying the Son of Man?' When those who were around him saw what was coming, they asked, 'Lord, should we strike with the sword?' Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said, 'No more of this!' And he touched his ear and healed him." [Luke 22:47-51]

I had never really thought about it this until this week, but Jesus doesn't use his disciples as bodyguards.  Jesus deliberately chooses to be vulnerable at every point of his life, not only when it's easy because he is popular, but when it is dangerous, as well.  Part of Jesus' humanity is Jesus' embrace of the risks of being human.  Jesus does not shy away from the very real possibility that an angry mob will try and harm him, because an essential part of wearing our skin is vulnerability.

You might stop and ask yourself, "Wait a second--why does one of Jesus' disciples carry a sword then?"  And that's a good question.  And the answer is, oddly, "Because Jesus told them to have swords on them... but not to use them."  That seems like a head-scratcher.  Go back a few verses in Luke's gospel (like to Luke 22:35-38) and you'll see Jesus tell his disciples they'll need to have a couple of swords on hand, even though earlier in his ministry he sent them out into strange towns and villages deliberately unarmed.  You might ask yourself, "Has Jesus had a change in policy?  Has Jesus finally seen the light and decided that in a dangerous world you have to protect yourself, and now told his disciples to open-carry their swords in case an angry mob comes along to rough them up?"  And the answer to all of that is a loud-and-clear, "No."  We know that because here, just a bit later on that same evening, when the angry mob does come along and one of Jesus' disciples tries to use the sword he brought along, Jesus stops him, commands him to put away his sword, and heals the person who had been injured.  

So, what's going on with the sword business? To be honest, it seems most likely that Jesus is letting himself be surrounded with circumstantial evidence that will be used against him to push the authorities to call out for Jesus' death.  Jesus himself quotes a scripture, "And he was counted among the lawless" when he tells his disciples to take swords with them.  In other words, Jesus never intended for the swords laying around to be used, but always intended them to be basically incriminating props that would give the religious and political authorities more reason to push for Jesus' execution as a "dangerous" revolutionary.  

Well, if that helps unravel one of the stranger scenes in the Gospel, that also sheds more light on Jesus' way of being the savior.  At no point does Jesus hide from danger, and at no point does Jesus value his life more than the lives of others around him.  That's not because Jesus knows he's invincible or bulletproof--the cross clearly shows he is not.  It is because Jesus will not put his own life, and his own self-preservation above the lives of others--not even the "enemy" who has come to arrest him.  

And to be sure, this isn't the only time something like this happens.  When Jesus' disciples want to call down fire from heaven to burn up a town that has rejected Jesus, he has to tell them no, and shows them that's not how we do things in the Reign of God.  When he sends the disciples out into the towns around Galilee to bring the Good News, he sends them out vulnerably, without swords, staffs, or money, but running the risk that something could happen to them along the way.  These are not accidents, and they are not flukes.  They are an essential part of Jesus' way of being human--truly human.  Because as Jesus sees it (and also, the New Testament claims, as God sees it), we were intended to own and embrace our vulnerability, not to run away from it, hide it, cover it up, or threaten other people in an attempt to distract from our own vulnerability.  And above all, we don't put our own lives above the lives of others.  Jesus rejects a "Me-and-My-Group First" mindset, not just on the cross, but even here in the Garden, when he refuses to let his disciples play "bodyguard" and start attacking the mob that has come him.  Jesus refuses even to let the slave of the high priest be deemed less important than his own life.

And that, dear ones, is Jesus' model of courage, of strength, and of humanity.  You don't show you are strong by hiding behind armed guards, according to Jesus.  Jesus' kind of courageous humanity leaves all of that adolescent "tough-guy" routine behind, because Jesus never needed to intimidate, impress, or threaten.  Those are the tactics of fear, and Jesus is utterly free from fear.

That doesn't mean Jesus is naïve, nor that he teaches his followers to be naïve about the dangers of the world.  Jesus knows exactly what he is getting himself--and his followers--into.  And we need to be absolutely clear, with eyes wide open, about the dangers and terrors out there that still can do awful things.  Just yesterday, as I write, the news carried the story of a TV star who was attacked, insulted, beaten, had had a noose put around his neck, ostensibly because he was black and gay.  And in the news the day before was a young man who had killed his parents and girlfriend and then ran from authorities.  That's just in the last 48 hours, and that's just the top headlines that made national news.  This has not stopped being a dangerous world, and there is still terrible hatred in hearts all around us that does not hesitate to lynch or beat or intimidate or shoot people.  Jesus, too, knows what it is to stare down an angry, hate-filled lynch mob, and yet he refuses to let his followers play the role of bodyguard to kill or harm the mob, not even the slave of the high priest.  Jesus shows us that being fully human means being vulnerable, and refusing to put our own lives above the lives of others.  That is hard, but that is what true humanity looks like.  We, with all of our "tough-guy" posturing and sword-carrying, have been settling for something less than full human-ness, all along.

In all of the gospels, whether it's the fallout from his first sermon in his hometown or the night of his arrest, Jesus never runs from a confrontation out of cowardice, but neither does he attack those who are out to get him, or let one of his disciples do the fighting for him.  Jesus shows us a greater courage than swinging a sword or running away takes.  Jesus shows us that real humanity requires the courage to be vulnerable.

In this dangerous, often violent, hateful and fearful world, may this same Jesus give us the courage to be fully, vulnerably human, the way we were created to be.

Lord Jesus, give us your courage, so that we can be vulnerably human.