VII.
The Scene in the Upper Room.
As our Lord's earthly ministry draws to a close the spiritual history of the first Apostles reaches a crisis. The scene in the Upper Room has for us a special interest in this connection. It is recorded in all the four Gospels in such a manner as to establish its importance and historicity. As usual Peter's own account is the most vivid, but Luke supplies us with a sentence from which we learn more of the state of affairs than is given by the other three. This is exceptional, for Luke, as a rule, idealises the Apostles. He tells us that "there arose also a contention among them which of them is accounted to be greatest." We see then that even into the Upper Room and to the last Supper had penetrated the jealousies, rivalries and ambitions of these few men who were afterwards to become heroes of the Cross. We only associate the upper room with thoughts of peace and sacredness, but here is another side of the matter. It may well be that the little meeting ended in solemnity and quietness, but it can hardly have begun so. The stamp of truth seems to rest on John's account of what took place, simply because it expresses so naturally Jesus's method of dealing with the contention which Luke says was in existence. He rose from the table and performed for His followers the ceremony their jealousy of one another had made them omit. The foot-washing may have had a direct reference to the future practice of mutual service, but it had also an immediate significance. The disciples refused to wash one another's feet, and the Lord and Master of them all undertook the duty Himself. Perhaps the change of feeling induced by this simple and lowly act made possible the beautiful utterances which only John has preserved for us (John xiii.-xvii.).
In the forefront of this discourse, however, Jesus exchanged a few sentences of special emphasis with Peter. "Simon, Simon," He declared, "behold, Satan, asked to have you that he might sift you as wheat; but I made supplication for thee, that thy faith fail not; and do thou, when once thou hast turned again, stablish thy brethren." This statement of tender solicitude must have been called forth by His knowledge of the contention which had been taking place. Doubtless He was filled with sorrow that Peter had not yet learned the lesson of humility and self-forgetfulness. He foresaw the failure, the cowardice, the denial, but He foresaw, too, the repentance, the restoration, and the greater Peter whose strength should lie in his humility and willingness to be led by the Spirit of God. But at this moment the very last person to see any need of such a change was Peter himself. Jesus went on to describe what in the time immediately following would happen to the little band. "All ye," He said, "shall be offended in Me this night, for it is written, Ye shall smite the Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad." Peter instantly declared, "Though all shall be offended in Thee I will never be offended." What feelings were contending in his mind at the moment we can only conjecture. Possibly he felt a little sore at the implied rebuke contained in the foot-washing and in the prophecy of the sifting which had followed it. More probably, however, the simple affection which he really had for his Master impelled him to declare his loyalty. "Exceeding vehemently," according to his own account, he persisted, "If I must die with Thee I will not deny Thee." He felt it was possible that Jesus might in the coming danger need to rely upon the services of an active and courageous friend like himself. Doubtless he felt every word he said, but he also felt the importance of the assistance he could render to Jesus. It never occurred to him that Jesus had no need of his assistance. Peter needed a sharp lesson, and ere long he had it. The secret of true service consists in self-emptying. He learned the true spirit of his Master's teaching only after the utter and painful failure of his own self-confident promises. For the present Jesus's only reply was, "Verily I say unto thee, that thou, to-day, even this night, before the cock crow twice shalt deny me thrice."
VIII.
Gethsemane and After.
The testing time was not far distant. Peter, filled with determination to show his loyalty and courage, seems to have carried away from the upper room one of two swords that had lain therein. He believed himself ready for emergencies, but failed at the very outset to give what his Master really needed. Once again we find the story told best by Peter himself. He, James and John were stationed by their Master's desire a little nearer to His person than were the others. Most pathetically Jesus entreated their sympathy. "My soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death. Abide ye here and watch." This, however, they proved themselves unable to do. Luke says they were "sleeping for sorrow," and most likely this is in a measure true. They could not have been indifferent to their Master's trouble. He had given them sufficient opportunity to observe His state of mind, and doubtless they had done so, and were stirred with affectionate sympathy. Nevertheless this sympathy did not go so far as to enable them to share in His vigil. Probably Peter considered himself as a guard to His person—the intensity of his Master's agony he could not understand. His emphatic promise in the upper room, however, was being badly fulfilled. Even if he were no more than a guard to Christ's person he should have kept awake. In his own account of the scene he places the emphasis on this point: "And He cometh and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, Simon, sleepest thou? Couldest thou not watch one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation." The implied reproach here has reference almost certainly to the vehemence of Peter's promise of superior loyalty. "Though all shall be offended yet will not I." Jesus gently reminded him of the promise, and signified that he had begun badly in the way of keeping it. The Master recognised, however, the sincerity and simple affection of the Apostle in His concluding words, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."
Even while Jesus was speaking the surprise came. Judas and the rabble with swords, staves and lanterns burst into the garden. Instantly all was confusion and alarm; only Jesus remained calm and self-possessed. Judas stepped forward and kissed Him; the disciples hurried to His side, Peter drew his sword, and without waiting for explanations struck at the foremost of the advancing band. The act was one of sheer folly; it might have involved himself and his companions in one common ruin. So far from saving Jesus it was Jesus who now saved him. The Master turned hastily round and with quick gesture bade Peter restore the sword to its place, saying, "They that take the sword shall perish with the sword." The statement no doubt had immediate reference to Peter's rashness. Jesus saw that any of His disciples taken with arms in their hands would forfeit their lives. The warning did not need to be repeated; Peter's new-found courage had already deserted him. The assailants seem to have been in similar case. To save His disciples Jesus confronted them, and as He advanced they retreated, stumbling over one another, till, as John relates, they fell to the ground.
"Whom seek ye?" asked the victim of Pharisaic hate. "Jesus of Nazareth," they replied. "I am He," was the rejoinder, and then, with a thoughtfulness and love of which in this dreadful hour Jesus only seems to have been capable, He continued, "If therefore ye seek Me let these go their way." For some moments the officers hesitated; the majesty and dignity of Him whom they had come to seize cast a spell upon them; no one liked to be the first to arrest Him, and Jesus had to declare Himself a second time ere the leaders ventured to execute their commission. The moment this was done, however, "all the disciples left Him. and fled."