students of jesus

You would have loved meal times in the New Testament. The table set low to the ground; the diners sat—or lay—upon the floor. The Bible uses the comfortable phrase “reclined at table.” It was an intimate way to eat, perched on cushions, cozied up to your neighbor.

John’s gospel paints a picture of what we call the Last Supper: Jesus and twelve men, leaning and splayed near the table. Look! There is young John, so close to Jesus he could rest his head upon the Lord’s chest. (Try to imagine modern religious leaders eating together like that!) In this close setting, Jesus reveals that someone at the table will betray him before the night is through. Peter, ever anxious to know the inside story, motions to John, “Ask him, John—he’ll tell you!”

John leans back against Jesus and whispers, “Lord, who is it?” . . . and we know the rest of the story. Jesus tells John to watch closely, he gives Judas a piece of bread dipped in oil, and the cosmic dominoes are set in motion.

The scene is more than a Passover meal: it’s more than the moment when Judas chooses to sell his Lord for a bag of silver. It is a picture of intimacy with Jesus. It’s a place the Lord’s loved ones can ask—and hear—the secrets known only to God. Assembled around the table that night were twelve disciples, but only one rested his head on the Lord’s chest. Only one was close enough to hear and feel the beating heart of the living God. Only one heard table secrets that revealed what was truly going on in the moment, and what would happen in the dark night ahead.

We learn from John’s gospel that there is a secret place reserved for those who love Jesus and receive his love in return. When John quietly refers to himself as “the disciple whom Jesus loved” he also discretely reveals the depth of his love in return. Beyond the place of obedience is the place at the table. Beyond faithfulness, beyond doctrinal purity, beyond intentionality and discipline there is a place at the table. Not a formal, dry, hard chair that sets us before fine china and silverware, but a place to recline, to eat with our hands and drink from a shared cup.

We have an invitation to recline at the table: to feel his breath, and hear his heart. Table secrets await.

The Last Supper: more than history, more than a painting: it’s the living example of how to go through stressful times. There are at least five diamonds shining out from the darkness of John 13. I’m sure you can find more, but I’m struck with these reflections:

He showed them the full extent of his love (v1). Jesus demonstrated that sometimes the grand gesture is important. What more perfect love is there than the love of God? Yet Jesus determined that night to show them the “full extent” of his love. He washed their feet. Earlier in the week Mary had broken open a jar of fabulously expense perfume and covered his feet with the sweet-smelling ointment. He had received extravagant love and now he showed the same. The service due him he gave to others. In the middle of incredible stress Jesus lavished his attention on others.

The devil had already prompted Judas to betray Jesus (v2). The backdrop of the evening was betrayal. Jesus washed Judas’ feet as well. The very one who objected to Mary’s outrageous act of love was apparently willing to receive the full extent of the Jesus’ love.  Jesus knew the score and chose to serve even Judas. But should we be surprised? Before sunrise all the disciples except John would flee for safety. Peter would deny the Lord again and again (and again). Jesus served them all. In a setting of betrayal Jesus determined to pour forth his love and care. Under incredible pressure he met betrayal with love--he cared even for his oppressor. Perhaps that’s why the early church sang, “If we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself.”

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power (v3). Does it seem strange that set in between love, betrayal, and service that the gospel reminds us of Jesus’ power? In stressful situations many people think of power as the ability to make things happen, to gain control of the situation. Yet Jesus allowed the events of the night to play out completely. On that difficult night Jesus did not grasp for control, even though he had power to do so. What if true empowerment expresses itself in terms of the confidence to obey the Father?

Jesus took off his outer clothing (v4). Jesus was secure in his identity. He had been given the Father’s power. Accordingly, he took off his outer garment, stripped to the waist and strapped a towel about himself. Can we understand the shock of the moment? Jesus became a picture of transparency, humility, and service. The Jewish culture of the day associated nakedness with shame-we have no equivalent emotion today. The most powerful man in the room was the one engaged in the work of a slave, bare to the eye, bowed before those who would worship him in just a few days. Of course, it was too much for Peter, who could not comprehend that a leader leads by serving. While the pressures of life may tempt us to cover up our real selves, Jesus demonstrated the way of transparency, humility, and service.

He asked them, “Do you understand?” (vs 12-17). Still, Jesus did not abandon his role as a leader that night. After he put on his clothes again and returned to the table, he resumed his role as Rabbi: this moment was too important to be left to mystery. He instructed them in the meaning and importance of his actions. Having led by serving, he served them by leading as well. Jesus was about to give a “new commandment” which would only make sense in the context of a servant’s heart. He explained the example he had set and clearly expected his disciples to attain to the same standard. Jesus’ answer to the worries of the night was to display power clothed in service. He became the standard for “love one another as I have loved you.”

These five gems shine for us. The stress of everyday living can be met with the example of Jesus, who conquered not only the grave but earth-bound responses to betrayal and hard times. Who could be content with learning about Jesus without the deep desire to become like him? Can we imitate the Master? His love in the face of betrayal is a call for us to love as he loved; to lead by serving and to serve by leading.