It is interesting to read the Scapegoat and the Trial of Jesus in the same day.  At Jesus’ baptism, John tells us in his gospel that John the Baptist prophetically pointed to Jesus with the words, “behold the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”  There are many lambs that John the Baptist could have been referring to.  It could have been the lamb of the sin offering we’ve been reading about.  It could have been the lamb of the Passover, whose blood decorated the frame of the door as a sign for the angel of death to pass over the house.

But the phrase, “takes away” leads us toward this idea of the scapegoat.  The scapegoat was, well, a goat (yes, not a lamb but still) that took the sins of the people upon itself and then took them away into the wilderness.  It is from this practice of the People of God that we get our modern idea of a scapegoat, a person to take the blame for something we’ve done wrong.

But unlike the scapegoat of the Old Testament, Jesus was not chosen by lot but was chosen by God, His own Heavenly Father.  To choose ones own son to diminish so as to become human and then to suffer and die at our hands is an agony we cannot imagine.  We see hints of Jesus’ own agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, but for God the Father, who’s emotions we cannot begin to comprehend, it is simply too much.  He has to look away.

Every one of us is broken in some way.  The sin to which we are exposed mars our spirits in ways we cannot comprehend, and so we come to Jesus in worship, in prayer, and in relationship as broken people.  And still He loves us.  In fact, He loves us so much that he is willing to take our brokenness upon Himself and then take it to the ultimate wilderness, death itself.  But the Good News is that unlike the scapegoat, He came back.  More on that later this week.

It is interesting to read the Scapegoat and the Trial of Jesus in the same day.  At Jesus’ baptism, John tells us in his gospel that John the Baptist prophetically pointed to Jesus with the words, “behold the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”  There are many lambs that John the Baptist could have been referring to.  It could have been the lamb of the sin offering we’ve been reading about.  It could have been the lamb of the Passover, whose blood decorated the frame of the door as a sign for the angel of death to pass over the house.

But the phrase, “takes away” leads us toward this idea of the scapegoat.  The scapegoat was, well, a goat (yes, not a lamb but still) that took the sins of the people upon itself and then took them away into the wilderness.  It is from this practice of the People of God that we get our modern idea of a scapegoat, a person to take the blame for something we’ve done wrong.

But unlike the scapegoat of the Old Testament, Jesus was not chosen by lot but was chosen by God, His own Heavenly Father.  To choose ones own son to diminish so as to become human and then to suffer and die at our hands is an agony we cannot imagine.  We see hints of Jesus’ own agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, but for God the Father, who’s emotions we cannot begin to comprehend, it is simply too much.  He has to look away.

Every one of us is broken in some way.  The sin to which we are exposed mars our spirits in ways we cannot comprehend, and so we come to Jesus in worship, in prayer, and in relationship as broken people.  And still He loves us.  In fact, He loves us so much that he is willing to take our brokenness upon Himself and then take it to the ultimate wilderness, death itself.  But the Good News is that unlike the scapegoat, He came back.  More on that later this week.

We are at a time in history when injustice is being called out.  From BlackLivesMatter to the #MeToo movement, we are no longer willing to stand for injustice.  Which is our natural reaction anyway.  When we experience injustice, we seem to be programmed to fight it with all we have.  Just try giving a two year old less than his older sister!  So it should not surprise us to see swords out as the religious leaders come for Jesus.

But Jesus is fighting for something more important than justice.  Having come out of the battle in the Garden of Gethsemane, a battle against fear and dread, Jesus is now ready to take on the last hours of His life.  And those last hours require history’s greatest injustice for the scriptures to be fulfilled.  Jesus prioritizes His God-given mission over receiving the justice He deserves.

The disciples do not understand or accept this injustice, and so use everything in their power, namely weapons, to prevent it.  And are rebuked clearly by Jesus.  “You think a sword will stop history?  Do you know what havoc I could wreak upon these guys?  But I don’t, because there is something bigger going on that just one man’s justice.”

When you get indignant at the injustice of this world, do you ever stop and listen to God?  Do you ever check to see if maybe there is something bigger going on?  Do you whip out a sword and start chopping to defend your idea of fairness, or do you drop to your knees in prayer, honest prayer like that of Jesus, and wait for God’s command?  If only you and I could prioritize God’s plan over everything, even seeking justice for ourselves.

We are at a time in history when injustice is being called out.  From BlackLivesMatter to the #MeToo movement, we are no longer willing to stand for injustice.  Which is our natural reaction anyway.  When we experience injustice, we seem to be programmed to fight it with all we have.  Just try giving a two year old less than his older sister!  So it should not surprise us to see swords out as the religious leaders come for Jesus.

But Jesus is fighting for something more important than justice.  Having come out of the battle in the Garden of Gethsemane, a battle against fear and dread, Jesus is now ready to take on the last hours of His life.  And those last hours require history’s greatest injustice for the scriptures to be fulfilled.  Jesus prioritizes His God-given mission over receiving the justice He deserves.

The disciples do not understand or accept this injustice, and so use everything in their power, namely weapons, to prevent it.  And are rebuked clearly by Jesus.  “You think a sword will stop history?  Do you know what havoc I could wreak upon these guys?  But I don’t, because there is something bigger going on that just one man’s justice.”

When you get indignant at the injustice of this world, do you ever stop and listen to God?  Do you ever check to see if maybe there is something bigger going on?  Do you whip out a sword and start chopping to defend your idea of fairness, or do you drop to your knees in prayer, honest prayer like that of Jesus, and wait for God’s command?  If only you and I could prioritize God’s plan over everything, even seeking justice for ourselves.

The contrast between John’s rendition of Jesus’ passion and Matthew’s is striking, and no more so than here in the Garden of Gethsemane.  John, the gospel that focuses on Jesus as God, gives us a completely in control and unemotional Jesus in His last days.  Matthew, the gospel that focuses on Jesus as Messiah and fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies, gives us perhaps the most intimate look at Jesus’ humanity.  Tears, terror, loneliness, and sorrow are not the typical emotions we associate with Jesus the Messiah, but here they are in all their familiar glory.

Jesus is facing betrayal, denial, torture, and death, and He knows its coming.  And in His humanness, He reacts much as the rest of us would.  We often so focus on Jesus’ divinity that we ignore His human fear and pain.  In fact, we often call fear and pain “weaknesses”.  But without them, we are not fully human, for without fear and pain, we can never learn courage and endurance.

What are your fears today?  What is your pain?  Does it help you to know that Jesus faced these as well, and overcame them not through a divine magic but with the help of His friends (who did indeed show their weakness when they fell asleep on their terrified friend).  In your fear and pain, do you follow the world’s path and try to muscle through them, tough them out, and quietly endure them alone?  Or do you follow Jesus’ example and seek empathy, prayer, and community through your sisters and brothers in Christ?