Talking a Good Game

Talking a Good Game

Matthew 26:30-35

            It’s easy to talk a good game.  We do it all the time.  We promise to fix that leaky faucet or clean out the garage.  But when the time comes, we find ourselves, like Dagwood Bumstead, on the couch taking a nap, or heading for the golf course.  We talk about our exploits in high school or college—athletic, romantic or academic—as if we were the star student or athlete or lover—at least as long as no one is around who remembers us back then.  We make plans for all the big things we’ll accomplish in the future, but don’t take the first step towards bringing them to fruition.  We’re great at talking, but not so great at doing.

            Matthew tells us that Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, told his closest followers that they would all desert him.  “You will all fall away because of me this night,” Jesus said.  He knew that once he was arrested the flock would scatter.  It’s important to remember that Jesus wasn’t condemning them.  He was just stating what he knew to be fact.  When the Temple guard came to take him, the disciples would be frightened and go to ground.

            Peter, big talking Peter said, “No way, Jesus.  These others may take off, but I’ll be right by your side all the way.”   We can see the disciples rallying round Peter, falling all over themselves to assure Jesus of their undying loyalty.  I’m sure, at that moment, they really believed what they were saying.  They were earnest in their statements, and sure that nothing could prevent them from making good on their promises.  I also suspect that secretly, they still believed none of this would happen.  Jesus hadn’t been able to convince them that he was going to be executed, so their promise of support was easy to make.

            We know Jesus’ response to Peter:  “Before the rooster crows you will deny three times that you even know me.”  Again, Jesus was just stating fact.

            To be fair, the disciples had no idea what was about to happen.  They still believed that Jesus would use his immense power—the power they had seen at work so many times—to bring about God’s kingdom.  And they would be in charge.  They’d get rid of the Romans and show the Jewish religious leaders how things should be run.  When they were the leaders all that was wrong would be put right.

            To be completely fair, the disciples had every reason to go into hiding.  The Romans were brutal when it came to putting down insurrection.  The disciples were sure open rebellion was where Jesus was going with this whole kingdom of God thing.  Once Jesus had been taken, they knew they could be arrested, tried and executed as co-conspirators.  When everything went wrong, they did the most logical thing in the world—they ran for cover.

            Still, their reaction is disturbing—and lest we think we’d do any better, let us remember that knowing how things would turn out Easter morning makes it easy for us to look down our noses at these poor, stumbling, Galilean peasants.  If we were in their shoes I don’t think we’d have done any differently.

            It was only a few hours later that Jesus asked his followers to watch and pray with him.  We know what happened.  They’d had a big meal, more than enough wine, and it was late.  The food, the drink, the hour, and the excitement of the last few days got to them, and they fell asleep.  The crucial moment hadn’t even arrived and all their talk had come to nothing.

            It’s bad when we fail to keep our promises to ourselves and others when it comes to earthly things.  How much worse is it when we fail God by not keeping our promises concerning heavenly things?  Talking a good game but not following through can have serious consequences for our relationship with God.