"Surely not I, Rabbi?"

Early in the Gospel of John we read about a political and religious leader named Nicodemus who came, under cover of darkness, to check out the new rabbi everyone was talking about. Nick was a Pharisee (Separated One), and Pharisees were well known for the distance they kept between themselves and everything that was not Jewish. So it must have come as a bit of a shock when Jesus told him, “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life”, and then went on to insist, “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” John 3:16-17

But this is the Gospel in a nutshell, or a mustard seed so to speak: At Christmas God entered his world in the form of a human being, took on all our frailties and infirmities, our limitations and vulnerabilities, and even bore our sin, and then walked out a thoroughly human life right through Good Friday; from the manger to the grave. He was not afraid, or at least when he was afraid he didn’t allow his fear to deter him. He went all the way, sharing himself with everyone; his healing, his purposes, his forgiveness, his suffering, his love.

Along the way he gathered up disciples; folks like you and me, with the same frailties, infirmities, limitations and vulnerabilities. And, on the cross, he poured out his blood (his life) for us, even into us, as his communion meal implies. He did this so that, in some mysterious way, each of his disciples might become a kind of mini-Jesus, living in this world, sharing God with everyone; God’s healing, God’s purposes, God’s forgiveness, God’s suffering, God’s love. He shares his life with us that we might share his life with everyone.

Unfortunately, however, there is a bit of a snag in all of this. It shows up right in the story of Jesus’ first disciples. Some of those who were following Jesus did get afraid, just as we do, and they did let their fear deter them, just as we do.

Matthew 26:20-23, 25 When evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table 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. ..."

Then Judas, the one who would betray him, said, "Surely not I, Rabbi?"

Jesus answered, "Yes, it is you."

SURELY NOT I (Matthew 26:22)

Now, there once was one who was called one day,

To take up his life and throw it away,

And turn his back on his treasures and plans,

And place himself in the Masters hands.

But his palms grew moist, and his mouth went dry;

O, who is this bird, too afraid to try,

To spread his wings and mount the sky?

Surely not I, Lord; surely not I?

And there once was a judge who faced, one time,

A man accused of a terrible crime,

And even he could clearly see

This innocent man should be set free.

But his palms grew moist, and his mouth went dry,

And he left that man with the mob to die.

O, who was he forsaken by?

Surely not I, Lord; surely not I?

For, if he’d called me, on that long-ago day,

You wouldn't have seen me turning away.

And if I’d been that judge, you understand,

I'd have never forsaken an innocent man.

But that was a simpler time, you see,

Of clearer truths and certainty.

Does he still call some so insistently?

And expect them to follow relentlessly?

To give up all they have longed to be,

In exchange for a dream only he can see?

O, perhaps some saint in a monastery,

But surely not you; O, surely not me?

© Dan Colborne/4/92