I don’t like storms. Not even a little bit. As I write these words, the possibility of storms in the forecast has me repeatedly checking the radar and refreshing the forecast. I do not intend to be out in the elements or even out on the road when the storm arrives. If I can avoid a storm, I will.
In this passage, it is clear that a storm is coming. Jesus warns the disciples of his nearing crucifixion, then the chief priests and the elders gather to plot against Him. Jesus is anointed with expensive ointment and tells the disciples that he is being prepared for burial. Judas negotiates the price of his betrayal and then responds to Jesus’ prediction incredulously, “Is it I, Rabbi?” Taking the bread and the cup, Jesus pointed to the shedding of his blood for the forgiveness of sins, and then, much to Peter’s dismay, Jesus predicts his denial.
Over and over again, in the face of the gathering storm, Jesus moves forward–not compulsively checking the forecast but resolved in love to secure our salvation. So, whatever storm–metaphorically speaking–you find yourself in, you can trust that Jesus isn’t looking for somewhere safe to run. He’s a safe place for you to run.