Christian Art | Easter To Pentecost
John 13: 16-20 | King James Audio Bible KJV | Daily Verses
16 Verily, verily, I say unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord; neither he that is sent greater than he that sent him.
17 If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them.
18 ¶ I speak not of you all: I know whom I have chosen: but that the scripture may be fulfilled, He that eateth bread with me hath lifted up his heel against me.
19 Now I tell you before it come, that, when it is come to pass, ye may believe that I am he.
20 Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that receiveth whomsoever I send receiveth me; and he that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me.
Jesus has washed his disciples’ feet as an example to the disciples of how they should behave to one another. Jesus, the master, has performed the duty of a most menial servant. It was a custom at the start of a feast for such a servant to wash the feet of the guests, who might have walked a long way to be at the meal and whose feet might be very sore, and relieved by the act of washing. Now Jesus has performed this office. There must be such humility, mutual love and care among the disciples, especially as they head toward difficult times.
In these Bible verses, Jesus speaks again of his relationship with his Father. Throughout his ministry, and now as his Passion and crucifixion are very close, he has been the servant, performing his Father’s will. All he has done has been true to this spirit of utter obedience and humility, even as he is himself divine and of one substance with the Father. This is the example we are called upon to imitate and follow.
Jesus speaks of Judas’ treachery. The evil one has for a time been worming his way into Judas’ soul and Judas has given himself up to evil. Judas has ‘lifted up his heel’ against Jesus. The verse suggests a brutal act of violence, and so it is; this is the violent enmity of a friend; it is a terrible betrayal. The verse recalls Psalm 41/40:
Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.
Once more, the Old Testament has prefigured the New.
We are all of us asked to be Christ’s followers, to imitate his example and to show to one another great love and service. Through Christ, we are then all the sons of God. Christ reconnects us with the Father.
We are all called to the Supper of the Lord. Where we have sinned, we are asked to repent and to trust in God’s mercy, so that we may be truly friends with Christ as we share the Eucharist.
‘It is true that love renews those who hear, or rather those who obey; but not any love, only that love which the Lord distinguished from natural love by adding the words: “As I have loved you.” Such love renews us: we become new men, heirs of the New Testament, singers of a new song.’ St Augustine
King James Audio Bible | Endnotes
Interpretations of Judas Iscariot:
- ‘Judas was, in some ways, the greatest of the apostles. He was the one who was trusted with the money, and he was the one who was closest to Jesus. But he was also the one who betrayed him. And that is what makes his story so tragic.’ – N.T. Wright, New Testament scholar
- ‘Judas’ betrayal was an act of calculated treachery, not a misguided attempt to further Jesus’ cause. It was a selfish and evil act, and it remains a warning to all who would put their own interests above those of others.’ – Billy Graham, Evangelical preacher
- ‘Judas’ betrayal was the ultimate act of unfaithfulness, not only to Jesus but to the entire community of believers. It was a betrayal of trust and a violation of the covenant that bound the disciples together.’ – Elizabeth Johnson, Catholic theologian
- ‘Judas’ betrayal was not simply a matter of his own personal failings but was part of a larger pattern of human sin and brokenness. It reminds us that we are all capable of betraying those we love and that we must constantly guard against the forces that would lead us astray.’ – Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury
- ‘Judas’ betrayal was a necessary part of the story of salvation, but it was also a tragedy that should not be minimized or overlooked. We must remember that Judas was a human being with his own fears, hopes, and dreams, and that his actions had real consequences for himself and for those around him.’ – James Martin, Jesuit priest and author
Jesus has told his disciples for the first time that he must go to Jerusalem to suffer and die. In today’s Gospel verses, Jesus calls the multitudes also, to tell everyone about what it means to follow Jesus, to live a Christian life. While the Passion draws closer, the sign of the crucifixion looming prominently over these verses, we are enjoined in our own lives to deny ourselves and to take up our cross to follow Jesus [ … ]
‘Death,’ says His Grace, ‘throws it all apart. For we are not as we should be. Faith requires our adjustment to God’s truth. God’s triumph in a very real sense requires in us the loss of our everything. Which, as with Mary at the other end of Jesus’s life, is God’s truth.’ The Gospel reading is of John 11: 1-45, which is a long passage, and His Grace’s homiletic theme commences in textual wilderness. Our brokenness – in this place – a family home. Our faith, our doubt, our death… The irruption – death, doubt, fear – within our precious scenes and our most intimate places. Our domesticity. His Grace speaks from the chair, as is a bishop’s prerogative, and says: ‘So much is obscure in the Gospels. We’re always reaching through them. We’re never there. Really, we never are. Our knowledge, our understanding, of the Gospels is never complete, and with each reading comes a new revelation. There are always new riches there. Just as there are between all of us, between myself and you. The Gospels are living texts. This is a part of the conversation we have with our own Christianity. It is a part of who we are in our relationship with Jesus. We are in this sense always on the brink. ‘So yes, there is plenty that doesn’t seem to make sense. As one of the order of bishops, we would be lying if we said that weren’t the case. They are not easy texts to encounter, if by that word we may signify something more than a superficial glancing off against, but rather a profound search for the word of God. The Gospels are written by people who had their own ideas, and often didn’t know what had really happened. Luke is quite explicit on this point. His is an investigation, from the explicitly claimed point of view of an historian, rather than that of a first-hand witness, who attempts, so he says, to set out an orderly account, out of the chaos, the sheer muddle, that has been handed down to him. It is possible to imagine Luke researching and composing his account after many years, when there has arisen a desire to know what exactly happened, and this implies a certain call to faith and certain demands of historicity, to historical exactitude. So in these different ways, the people of the first years of Christian faith are in the dark. There is also a decisive need to define the life of Jesus. And people didn’t get Jesus. The whole meaning of Christianity is only now beginning to take root throughout the composition. So much needs to be evangelized. The light shines almost in tentative fashion like that first star, which drew the wise men from the east to our Lord’s cradle. ‘John’s is widely held to be a very late Gospel. There are others who say that John’s Gospel might have been the first to acquire its true shape, because it most fully expresses Jesus, as we know him to be, as members of the Catholic Church. We don’t really know when any of this is being written, but we get a feel in John of a Gospel refined over many years, through a community. So there’s a lot going on there that I’d like you to think about. ‘What I would like to suggest to you is that, while within the Gospels we are often confronted with clues, guesswork, stories that have been handed down through so many people, and so in this sense we might find ourselves to be in the wilderness, this is the very desolate space itself to which we must give ourselves in order to experience Christ’s full redemption in our lives. I suggest it is for God’s glory that we do so. ‘As we become aware of ourselves, in this seminary, we find ourselves in a very secure, comfortable setting, and there are signs of Easter everywhere. Within the very fabric of these buildings, our Lord is risen; our Lord lives. But now this is our Lenten journey, where death enters, where death breaks us. We are to ride into Jerusalem in triumph, and then we are to be utterly broken, all hope gone, our hope extinguished. And really, I suggest to you, it is only by inhabiting this thought, as if we don’t know Easter is there, that our new life can follow, just when we have given up all hope, when every promise that Jesus made to us seems to have been cancelled. ‘And here now we have the story of Lazarus. I should like to suggest to you that we have a very powerful call now. In our very comfortable space, our domesticity, with all this comfort, where so very little might seem to happen each day, so it might seem to you, there is a disturbance within all of this comfort, and that is a disturbance within ourselves, and that is our call to Jesus. I think it is correct to say that our most comfortable places break in the light of Jesus from the inside, in order that we may take the necessary steps to be with Jesus. ‘Faith is not comfortable. I think that we can all receive the message of the rolling away of the rock from the tomb of Lazarus to say something of vital importance to ourselves concerning our openness to God’s love. The rock we roll away can come in all sorts of guises, but we know when we are blocked, and I firmly believe if we are truthful then we know where those blocks might be. ‘Next Sunday, which will be Palm Sunday, we process as it were to Jerusalem, to begin our Holy Week. Now as I speak to you we are on the brink. Even now, I suggest it might be very good for all of us to lay aside what we think we know, to fall apart a little, and so […]
The text from Saint Irenaeus, read on Thursday of the third week of Eastertide in the Office of Readings, is a profound theological meditation on the relationship between the Eucharist and the resurrection of the body. It stands not merely as an apologetic against heresy, but as a luminous witness to the Church’s sacramental and eschatological faith—rooted in the Incarnation, expressed through liturgy, and fulfilled in the resurrection [ … ]
