Sermon - Ash Wednesday - John 18:1-11

 

A blessed Ash Wednesday to you, dear Christians.

 

We begin the season of repentance known as Lent.  The ashes on our foreheads a stark reminder of the wages of sin – death – that has marked itself on every cell of our body, indeed, our very soul.  But even as ashes was away easily with water, so our baptism has removed the soil and stain of sin from us, and thus also its consequences.  The flesh will die, but we who are in Christ will live, and one day see a resurrection.  The ashes form the sign of a cross, as a reminder that the death that counts is Jesus’ death, and that in that death we have victory over the grave.  So our repentance is not despair.  It’s not just sorrow and contrition for sin, it’s also marked by hope – the only hope the world has ever had – the sure and certain hope that is found in Christ crucified for sinners.  Therefore let us journey to the cross together in repentance and faith, in sorrow for sin, but in joy that springs from sins forgiven. 

 

Every year our midweek series affords us an opportunity to tread off the beaten path somewhat.  We have considered the 6 chief parts of the small catechism, the 7 churches of Revelation, the animals of the Passion, and many other series.  This year, I’d like to examine some of the minor characters of the Passion account.  You might call them the “supporting cast” if this were a movie.  Through them, each midweek we will delve a little deeper and peel back a few more layers of this rich and captivating story of our Lord’s passion.

 

And so we start, tonight, in the Garden of Gethsemane, at the arrest of Jesus, with a man named Malchus.

 

18 When Jesus had spoken these words, ⁿhe went out with his disciples across ^othe brook Kidron, where there was a garden, which he and his disciples entered. 2 Now Judas, who betrayed him, also knew ^pthe place, for ^qJesus often met there with his disciples. 3 ^rSo Judas, having procured a band of soldiers and some officers from the chief priests and the Pharisees, went there with lanterns and torches and weapons. 4 Then Jesus, ^sknowing all that would happen to him, came forward and said to them, ^t“Whom do you seek?” 5 They answered him, “Jesus of Nazareth.” Jesus said to them, “I am he.”¹ Judas, who betrayed him, was standing with them. 6 ^uWhen Jesus² said to them, “I am he,” they drew back and fell to the ground. 7 So he asked them again, ^t“Whom do you seek?” And they said, “Jesus of Nazareth.” 8 Jesus answered, “I told you that I am he. So, if you seek me, let these men go.” 9 ^vThis was to fulfill the word that he had spoken: “Of those whom you gave me I have lost not one.” 10 Then Simon Peter, ^whaving a sword, drew it and struck the high priest’s servant³ and cut off his right ear. (The servant’s name was Malchus.) 11 So Jesus said to Peter, “Put your sword into its sheath; ^xshall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?” ( John 18:1-11)

 

We know little of Malchus, but surprisingly he is mentioned in all four Gospel accounts.  His claim to fame is that his ear was cut off by Peter in the scuffle that ensued at Jesus’ arrest. Of course, only John’s Gospel tells us that Malchus was his name, or that Peter was the disciple who wielded the sword.  And only Luke’s Gospel tells us that Jesus immediately healed Malchus – perhaps not surprising since Luke himself was a physician.  This was Jesus’ last miracle that he performed before his resurrection!

 

Who was this Malchus?  And why does John mention his name?  What does the incident teach us about the Kingdom of God and of the Passion of our Lord?  Let’s consider these questions a little further.

 

Like many of the minor characters throughout the Gospels, Malchus is mentioned by name, as we said, though only by John.  This could be for various reasons.  One is simply, that was his name, and the Gospels don’t shy away from telling us the details of things that actually happened.  These are not fictions or myths, but Jesus was really arrested in a garden that had a name, by men that had names, and there are people who knew them all.  These little details add to the narrative those bits of realism that draw us into the story, but it is a true story, and the names and times and places we are told matter because they are true. 

 

And since only John’s Gospel tells us Malchus’ name, it could also be that John knew Malchus personally, as it is also indicated that John had some personal connection to the high priest – a connection that got him inside during the trial of Jesus.  Maybe Malchus was that connection.  We also know that the second servant girl who questioned Peter there was a relative of Malchus.

 

It’s also a tiny detail, but notice John mentions it was Malchus’ right ear that was cut off.  Again, the details like this indicate a true eye-witness account.  And if his ear was cut off, was he perhaps not wearing a helmet, and perhaps, then, not a soldier?  And is Peter, perhaps, just swinging his sword at just the nearest available enemy?

 

There is also some speculation that perhaps Malchus was known to the early church, to whom St. John was writing, possibly even because he became a Christian.  With the healing of his ear, it’s not a stretch to imagine the incident had a profound effect on Malchus.  But it is just that, speculation and imagination.  We simply don’t know.

 

We never want to push the narrative of Scripture past what it tells us, and forget the distinction between revelation and speculation.  Even the ancient traditions of the church surrounding these events can lead us astray if not taken with a grain of salt.

What is clear is that Jesus rebukes Peter’s violence.  He doesn’t condone it in general, and certainly not in this case.  This is not how his kingdom comes. 

 

If it was, Jesus could have called 12 legions of angels – that’s 72,000 or so, to his own personal protection.  One angel could have easily done the job against this bunch.  But Jesus has a cup to drink.  He has a cross to face.  He has a death to die for Peter, and Malchus, and you and me.

 

Peter’s a slow learner, as are we all.  Jesus already rebuked him, “get behind me Satan!” when he tried to talk Jesus out of going to the cross.  But Peter is still looking for victory and glory and triumph, not suffering and shame and cross.  We, too, often look for another way – our own way – though it may not be violence, it’s always some exertion of our own will, our own plan, our own efforts to make things right – when only Christ can. 

 

Peter is not the first, or the last person to try and take things into his own hands when it comes to Jesus.  Or to come to Jesus’ rescue, as if he needs Peter’s sword.  But Jesus doesn’t need Peter’s help, or ours.  Jesus is the Savior here.  We do well to remember that.

 

Another key takeaway here is this: Jesus didn’t have to heal Malchus, but he did.  Even in the midst of his own troubles, in the act of being arrested, Jesus acts in compassion.  While most of us would be distracted by the events at hand, too sidetracked to help poor Malchus, Jesus is not.  Though Jesus faced far worse than losing an ear, still he takes a moment to help this man who surely meant Jesus no good.

 

The preacher is practicing what he preaches when he says “love your enemies”.  And Jesus doesn’t have to save you, but he does.  In our sins we are, in fact, enemies of God.  Rebellious and impudent.  We are no better than Malchus, or the Jews, or the Romans, or the bloodthirsty crowds crying for his crucifixion. 

 

But Jesus prays for our forgiveness.  He bleeds for our redemption.  He dies for our healing.  He loves his enemies, loves us to death, to bring us life, and make us his friends.

Now what about that ear?  Why the ear?  Just as it would be wrong of us to drift into speculation and go beyond what Scripture says, nor should we draw any allegorical or symbolic meaning here as some have done:  that Malchus’ ear represents some symbolic refusal to hear and now, after Jesus, we can listen to God’s word anew.  Or that Malchus stands for all the unbelievers who are hurt by the violence of believers.  These aren’t symbolic events.  They really happened.

 

But they may serve to remind us of such truths.  Jesus is very concerned about who has ears to hear his message.  Paul tells us faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.  We are, in our sins, spiritually deaf until the Spirit comes and opens our ears to the Gospel.  All of that is true. 

 

David wrote “create in me a new heart, oh, God….” And we might well pray, “create for me, new ears, oh, God…”  Ears to hear the word with clarity, ears to hear it in all of its truth and purity.  Ears not stopped by pride or distracted by the noise of this world.  Ears that hear clearly the condemning law and the forgiving gospel. 

 

This Lenten season, let us tune those ears especially to his passion, his suffering, his cross borne for us.  For Jesus drinks the cup the Father has given, for Malchus, for Peter, for you.  Thanks be to God.