When Jesus had finished saying all these things, he said to his disciples, “As you know, Passover begins in two days, and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified.” At that same time the leading priests and elders were meeting at the residence of Caiaphas, the high priest, plotting how to capture Jesus secretly and kill him. “But not during the Passover celebration,” they agreed, “or the people may riot.” — Matthew 26:1-5
The lessons in Matthew 26 have been laying heavily on me ever since being elected bishop. There are multiple words, but today I’ll just share one.
The chapter begins with the leading priests and elders plotting to kill Jesus. They are the obvious villains but Jesus will make a subtle but important point in a day or so that ought to come as a warning to us. The point is we are not as far from those who want to undermine the ministry of Jesus as we’d like to believe. In other words, as much as we want to believe we are — as convinced as we all are of our moral superiority or spiritual maturity or immunity to bad choices or faulty worldviews — we are not immune. And we might be tempted to repel the thought, to externalize and make it about someone else or everyone else, but if we do we will miss the sanctifying grace in it.
The fact is, most of us reading this post are “the leading priests and elders.” We are the ones leading in this new movement called the Global Methodist Church. Or at least, I need to say out loud that I’m among those leaders who has made a calling these last few years out of believing I’m right about what we’re doing. And while I do actually think we are on the right track, I’m not immune to thinking I know better about every aspect of our work when maybe I don’t. The idea that I might somehow be smarter than, more holy than, more spiritual than those in our former denomination … that seems like a dangerous arrogance, but one I’m more prone toward than not.
So Matthew 26 is preaching to me first, and here’s what it wants me to hear. It wants me to hear that I am not somehow wiser than, more holy than, more spiritual than leaders who have gone before me. And my sneaking suspicion is that it is only in acknowledging that fact that I have any hope of learning from their mistakes.
So the leading priests and elders who were “plotting how to capture Jesus secretly and kill him” were actually plotting how to control Jesus, control the narratives, control the outcomes. Which means their stories are packed with caution for those who want to learn from their mistakes.
There is a word in verse four of the passage above that carries a tremendous amount of negative power. Do you see it? “Secretly” is a spiritually dangerous way to operate. When our externals don’t match our internals, when we are more comfortable operating politically than transparently, that creates a negative power that wreaks havoc on spiritual ecosystems.
This is why the enemy encourages it. The obvious reason is that he holds the most power before a thing is spoken or exposed, before it is dealt with honestly in community. So the enemy will tell us not to tell anyone our stuff because they’ll reject us or fire us or whatever the enemy can get us to believe so we’ll keep quiet. John chapter 3 gives us the enduring truth beneath this dynamic. John teaches us that anything in the dark belongs to the enemy while anything in the light belongs to Jesus. No wonder the enemy doesn’t want things brought into the light.
And no wonder God desires truth in the inmost parts, as the psalmist tells us in Psalm 51:6. Two versions of the Bible (NIV and NLT) translate that phrase, “inward parts” as “from the womb.” But the Hebrew can also be translated as, “in the inward (or innermost) parts.” I like that translation. And just after that phrase, the psalmist makes a very quick connection to wisdom, as in “teaching me wisdom even there (in my inward parts).”
That teaches me that the right use of “inward parts” is the cultivation of wisdom, not the concealing of motives. “Plotting how to capture Jesus secretly” reveals a corruption of the inner life. So John Wesley’s band meeting question is a remarkable sanctifier. He teaches band members to ask each other, “Is there anything you desire to keep secret?” What a brilliantly simple, profound, honesty-seeking question designed to un-corrupt the inward parts so that space in our spirit is free and clear for the cultivation of wisdom.
If I could wish one question on your quiet time every day this year (or even better on your band meeting) it would be this question: “Is there anything you desire to keep secret?”
Is there anything … anything … any self-serving or unholy desire or motive, any greed, any hedging of the truth that needs to be said out loud and owned so you don’t run the risk of falling into the category of those who want to control and even kill the spirit of Jesus in the world or in your life?
