Jerusalem.” He said, “We are going.” It is this “we” that we have to emphasize. For it does not apply only to those first disciples; it also applies to us insofar as we want to be his followers. For us, too, the way to glory passes through suffering and death. To suffer with Christ for sin in the obedience of faith; to give up all foolish wishes and vain hopes with our eyes fixed on him; with him and in love to him to give our old self up to death; to die with him in quiet confidence in a blessed resurrection when our last hour comes; and then to be with him forever in the heavenly Jerusalem – this is our task.
If a stranger should ask us on our pilgrim way, “Where are you going?” then our whole life and being should answer, “We are going up to Jerusalem.” When young people are accepted into the church and then have to face the world, when newlyweds begin their married life together, when men or women are given a new task – they should say to themselves, “We are going up to Jerusalem.” Not only at this season of Lent when we accompany our Lord on his way to suffering and the cross, but throughout our whole walk on this earth, both in the springtime and in the winter of life, may this remain our watchword: “We are going up to Jerusalem.”
5
Friday Morning
The Fire of the Spirit and the Baptism of Suffering
I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled! I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished!
Luke 12:49–50
WHAT KIND OF FIRE does Christ want to kindle on earth? It is the fire of the Holy Spirit, as John the Baptist already prophesied, “He who is coming after me will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire” (Matt. 3:11). Accordingly, the Holy Spirit came on the Day of Pentecost in tongues of fire. This fire has a consuming power to begin with. It is a fire that causes dissension and struggle, and the Lord throws it into the sinner’s breast to awake him from sleep and death. As he said, “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Matt. 10:34). For it consumes darkness, sin, and destruction. That is why all who want to continue in the rotten state of this world hate it, and it gives rise to a fierce battle against the disciples of the Lord. But where its consuming power has stood the test, it also becomes a fire of joy and blessing. It enlightens the hearts of believers and leads them to know God. It purifies their souls from sin and guilt and raises them to a life of communion with God. Its holy flames mount to the Father of Light as worshiping love and burn in selfless dedication in serving others. Where this fire is burning, it is heaven on earth. The disciples on the road to Emmaus felt it when they said, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road?” (Luke 24:32).
Now, when the Lord called out on his last journey, “Would that it were already kindled!” he gave his disciples a deep insight into his heart and soul. He bears this fire within himself, and he knows that it must be kindled in others. He sees it burning in the breast of his disciples, spreading from heart to heart, from nation to nation, a fiery sign flaming from century to century. Yes, he sees at last the new heaven and the new earth in this element of the eternal light. An intense longing for that time lays hold of him.
But now a deep sadness casts itself between his longing and its fulfillment. What a fight must still be fought, what a sacrifice must still be made, before his task is fulfilled! That is why he says, “I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished!” A terrible flood surges up against the holy fire – the flood of his suffering, of his death. This is his baptism, his baptism of blood. He knows what awaits him, but he goes straight into it in the strength of love. And he is not ashamed to admit his apprehension. “How great is my distress!” he says.
We are deeply moved when he speaks. We are filled with wonder when he heals the sick, awakens the dead, and calms the stormy waves. We will fall on our knees before him in worship when we see him one day as judge of the world. But when the heavenly hero is afraid, when his soul trembles, when he pours out his anguish, seeking comfort in his disciples, even hard hearts must become soft. We must call out, “Yes, you are ours, and we are yours!” When this happens, his fire is already kindled.
6
Friday Evening
Humble Yourself, My Heart
Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came up to him with her sons, and kneeling before him she asked him for something. And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” Jesus answered, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?” They said to him, “We are able.” He said to them, “You will drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.”
Matthew 20:20–23
IT WAS A GREAT-HEARTED REQUEST that John and James made through their mother, Salome, to their Master. The thought was a noble one that considered all places of honor beside earthly kings as nothing in comparison with a seat of honor at Jesus’ side. The faith was great: that the glory of the humble Son of Man, in spite of all that he had said about suffering, would soon surpass all human grandeur. The love was ardent, seeking no more blessed goal than to stay beside the Lord forever. A noble courage was needed to dare to ask for such a thing. Yet in spite of all this, an alien fire burned in this request of the Sons of Thunder, for it also contained a forward vanity, a thoughtless pride, and a human messianic hope. So with gentle dignity the Lord rebuked them: “You do not know what you are asking,” and held before their eyes the cup that he would have to drink and the baptism that he would have to undergo. Thus he reminded them in two pictures of the suffering and death facing him.
Just as once the waters of the Jordan (beside whose banks they were now standing) had been poured over him at his baptism on beginning his mission, now the dark waves of outward suffering were to flood over him. Just as the precious contents of the wine glass must be savored to the full, so he must take the wine of tribulation and accept it inwardly. He must drain God’s cup of wrath in humble submission if the Father’s counsel is to be carried out. In this way the Lord wants to impress deeply upon them the fundamental principle of his kingdom: greatness only through humility; sovereignty only through service; the crown only through the cross. Whoever wants to ascend with Jesus must first descend with him.
The deep-going question of conscience that Jesus asked – if they could drink his cup and endure his baptism – was answered by both disciples in rash self-confidence, but also in daring truthfulness, with a joyful “Yes!” Later they both honored this “Yes” – John through a long life filled with suffering in faithful service of the Lord, and James through his early, bloody death.
No one can be a Christian without the cross. The closer we would be to the Lord, the deeper we have to go with him, outwardly or inwardly, into his humiliation and into his suffering. That is essential. So let the Lord’s question pierce deeply into your conscience, my soul: Can you, will you drink his cup? Will you endure his baptism? Blessed are all who, through life and death, can humbly answer, “Yes.”
7
Saturday Morning
The Enemies Gather
So the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered the council and said, “What are we to do? For this man performs many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will
