On the heels of the institution of the Lord’s Supper—a sacred and weighty moment—the disciples launch into perhaps the dumbest argument in church history: who is the greatest? An active betrayal is unfolding and in less than 24 hours Jesus will be dead, but they are concerned with rank. How could the disciples be so narcissistic and obtuse? For the same reason we are: man is egocentric and desperate for status. Yet Jesus does not reject the desire for greatness—he redefines it. The Greco-Roman world ran on a patronage system where wealthy benefactors gave publicly to gain prestige, loyalty, and control. Service was strategic. Benevolence was branding. But Jesus overturns the system: true greatness is measured not by what you gain, but by what you give. And only a right understanding of ourselves can produce that kind of uncalculated service.

Jesus turns to Peter, representing the whole group, and solemnly warns that Satan has demanded to shake him violently. Peter’s bold reply is sincere, but naive. Like us, he overestimates his strengths and underestimates his weaknesses—a well-documented bias often called illusory superiority. His fall will be devastating. But notice the mercy—Jesus does not say, “When you fail, you are finished.” He says, “When you have turned again…” Restoration is assumed. Failure will expose what is in Peter—but also what is in Christ.

On a previous mission, Jesus had instructed the disciples to travel light, but now he directs them to settle in for the long haul. The first project was largely met with hospitality, but from now on they can expect hostility. Why? Because Jesus will be numbered with the transgressors. Literally, counted lawless. Unlawful, and therefore under judgment. Wicked and deserving of death. But if we continue in his quotation from Isaiah 53:12, we read, “yet he bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors.” Jesus was not merely counted among sinners; he was deemed a criminal to atone for our transgressions.