Happy Easter- Read The Essence Of The Season

Promises for Prodigals

When Jesus said, “I am he,” they moved back and fell to the ground.—John 18:6

My father taught me the lesson early: Don’t create havoc in the garden. You can play ball in the yard. You can have races in the alley. You can build a fort in the tree. But the garden? Leave it alone.

It was a small garden, about the size of a walk-in closet. We grew nothing exotic, except for some mint. We’d soak the leaves in our summer tea. Though the vegetables were tasty, we didn’t need to grow them. We could have bought them at the market. So why did Dad insist on having a garden?

He loved to see life. And a garden is a place of life, a place where buds explode and plants push back the soil. A place of turnips and tulips and tomato plants. A place worthy of love and protection. Flowers are fragile. Plants are precious. So yank the weeds and scatter the varmints. Put up a fence. Grow a hedge. Make a scarecrow.

“Son, whatever you do, don’t go trampling around in the garden.”

I hate to think I have anything in common with the devil, but I guess I do. Satan learned the same lesson: Don’t mess around with a garden—especially a garden that belongs to the Father.

The Bible is the story of two gardens. Eden and Gethsemane. In the first, Adam took a fall. In the second, Jesus took a stand. In the first, God sought Adam. In the second, Jesus sought God. In Eden, Adam hid from God. In Gethsemane, Jesus emerged from the tomb. In Eden, Satan led Adam to a tree that led to his death. From Gethsemane, Jesus went to a tree that led to our life.

Satan was never invited to the Garden of Eden. He did not belong there. He was not wanted there. He slithered as a snake into God’s garden and infected God’s children.

That’s all he’s done since. Hasn’t he entered a few of your holy gardens?

We even call it “holy matrimony.” The word altar implies the presence of God. Marriage was God’s idea. The first wedding occurred in the first garden. But that doesn’t make any difference to the devil. He snakes his way into every home with one desire—to destroy.

Sexual intimacy is God’s gift. Virginity is a rose plucked from the garden, given by God and intended to be shared with your forever partner. Satan mocks such loyalty. He is the father of incest and abuse. He is the author of immorality. He is the pimp of the garden.

We give sacred oaths and make solemn promises. We vow to be a good parent, a true companion, and a loyal friend. But Satan’s head turns when he hears a pledge. “We’ll see about that,” the father of lies smirks.

In God’s eyes, a child is holy. The innocence of youth, the freshness of childhood, the joy of an infant. There was never a moment when Jesus turned away a child. But there has never been a child Satan didn’t despise. He was killing babies to kill Moses. He was destroying infants to destroy the Christ. His tactics haven’t changed. Millions of babies are still aborted; thousands of children are abused. Jesus said of Satan, “He was a murderer from the beginning” (John 8:44).

Is there a realm untouched by Satan? Is there a place unscarred by his sword? The church? The government? Children? Purity? Promises?

And you! And me! We are called to be holy. We were made to be holy. Set apart for his good work. We are the prized flowers of the garden. But is there one person who has not felt the foot of the intruder?

What Satan did in Eden, he does today. For that reason we need to know that what Jesus did in Gethsemane, he does today. He reclaims the holy. He will not long sit silent while Satan strip-mines the sacred. At the right moment Jesus stands and speaks. And when he stands and speaks, Satan stumbles and is silent.

Exactly what happened in Gethsemane.

John tells us that “Judas came there with a group of soldiers and some guards from the leading priests and Pharisees” (John 18:3). A bit of study reveals that Satan has masterminded a mighty coup. He has enlisted the muscle of each significant force of the drama—the Romans, the Jews, and the apostles.1

First he has a “group of soldiers.” The Greek word is speira. It has three possible meanings. It can signify a Roman cohort of three hundred men. It can refer to a cavalry and infantry totaling nineteen hundred soldiers. Or it can describe a detachment known as a maniple, which contained two hundred men.1

Amazing. I always had the impression that a handful of soldiers arrested Jesus. I was wrong. At minimum two hundred soldiers were dispatched to deal with a single carpenter and his eleven friends!

Also present were “some guards.” This was the temple police. They were assigned to guard the holiest place during the busiest time of the year. They must have been among Israel’s finest.

And then there was Judas. One of the inner circle. Not only had Satan recruited the Romans and the Jews, he had infiltrated the cabinet. Hell must have been rejoicing. There was no way Jesus could escape. Satan sealed every exit. His lieutenants anticipated every move, except one.

Jesus had no desire to run. He had no intent of escape. He hadn’t come to the garden to retreat. What they found among the trees was no coward; what they found was a conqueror.

Note the dialogue that ensued:

Knowing everything that would happen to him, Jesus went out and asked, “Who is it you are looking for?”

They answered, “Jesus from Nazareth.”

“I am he,” Jesus said. (Judas, the one who turned against Jesus, was standing there with them.)

When Jesus said, “I am he,” they moved back and fell to the ground.

Jesus asked them again, “Who is it you are looking for?”

They said, “Jesus of Nazareth.”

“I told you that I am he,” Jesus said. “So if you are looking for me, let the others go” (John 18:4-8).

Remarkable. They stand only a few feet from his face and don’t recognize him. Not even Judas realizes who stands before them. What a truth. Seeing Jesus is more than a matter of the eyes; it is a matter of the heart. The enemy is next to Jesus and doesn’t realize it.

He reveals himself. “I am he.” His voice flicks the first domino, and down they tumble. Were the moment not so solemn it would be comic. These are the best soldiers with Satan’s finest plan; yet one word from Jesus, and they fall down! The Roman guard becomes the Keystone Cops. Two hundred fighting men collapse into a noisy pile of shields, swords, and lamps. Don’t miss the symbolism here: When Jesus speaks, Satan falls.

Doesn’t matter who the evil one has recruited. Doesn’t matter if he has infiltrated the government. Doesn’t matter if he has seduced the temple. Doesn’t matter if he has enlisted one of the original, handpicked apostles. The best of Satan melts as wax before the presence of Christ.

Jesus has to ask them again whom they seek. “Who are you after?”

When they answer that they are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, he instructs them, “So if you are looking for me, let the others go.”

What is this? Jesus commanding them! A Jew instructing a Roman? A renegade directing the temple guard? We turn to the commander, expecting a reply. We look at Judas, awaiting his retort. We listen, expecting someone to announce, “You’re not the one in charge here, Nazarene! We’ll take whoever we want.” But not only are they silent, they are obedient. The apostles are set free.

Many players appear on the stage of Gethsemane. Judas and his betrayal. Peter and his sword. The disciples and their fears. The soldiers and their weapons. And though these are crucial, they aren’t instrumental. The encounter is not between Jesus and the soldiers; it is between God and Satan. Satan dares to enter yet another garden but God stands and Satan hasn’t a prayer.