“Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.”
They Jews had seen them before. So had the Romans. They would come and they would go — teachers wanting to make a name for themselves, wanting to be recognized, important and famous. So they would come up with this insight about the text or that point about the law. After all, with the domination of the Romans, there weren’t many perks in society to be found. But one was obtainable if they were willing to work for it and work at it. And that was the esteem of being called…rabbi!
Relationships always signal status. A king has subjects. A boss has employees. A leader has followers. A teacher has students or pupils. The meaning of rabbi is a combination of the last two relationships. He is a kind of leader and teacher. In John 1:49 Nathanael recognized Jesus as a rabbi. But Jesus was more than just a traveling teacher or a seminar instructor. As a rabbi he called disciples to follow him. What is a disciple? Western educational methodology has caused the best one-word synonym for disciple to fall into disuse. That word is apprentice. An apprentice is one who submits himself to the authority and tutelage of a master. In this sense, that is what a rabbi was — a master. Jesus called the Twelve not only to follow him, but also to leave their jobs, their families, and sometimes everything that was familiar, and submit themselves to his instruction and his ways, in short, to him. That is what rabbis did. They were masters, and master teachers — both formally and informally, by word and by life. The Hebrew word rab meant “master.” The suffix bi meant “my.” Thus “my master.”
Rabbi was a title of profound respect. That is why in Matthew 23, speaking of the teachers of the law (v. 1) Jesus said, “Everything they do is done for men to see…they love the place of honor at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues; they love to be greeted in the marketplaces and to have men call them ‘Rabbi.’ But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one Master and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor are you to be called ‘teacher,’ for you have one Teacher, the Christ.” (vs. 5-10.) Clearly Jesus was interested in proper relationships among people (“brothers”) and removing false distinctions that belonged only to him and his Father in heaven.
Interestingly — and unfortunately — the last one recorded to have called Jesus rabbi was Judas! It occurred at the last Passover/first Lord’s Supper. The twelve disciples all had come to the feast at Jesus’ invitation. Jesus had taken the position of the lowest domestic slave by washing all their feet (John 13), including Judas’. This in itself was a shocker! A rabbi washing his disciples’ feet?! It should be the other way around. Thus argued Peter (John 13:6-9). After Jesus brought their attention back to the dinner, they were not prepared for the second shock: his betrayal (Matt. 26:20-24). Worse yet, the betrayer literally sat at the table with them! They were more than stunned. The announcement hit them like a ton of bricks. Extreme self-doubt overwhelmed each of them. Finally, Judas spoke up and asked, “Surely not I, my master (rabbi)?”
Can anyone who has submitted himself to his master’s will really betray his own master? No!
Therein lies the problem with Judas — he never had yielded himself to the will of God. Jesus was never his rabbi. Thus to use this word, especially at such a critical moment, was all the more deceitful and wicked. Jesus’ response? “You yourself have said it.” Judas never got it. Later that night, after leaving the dinner, Judas tracked down Jesus in the Garden. With him were the temple guards and a large crowd including representatives of the Sanhedrin, Israel’s religious supreme court. Upon encountering Jesus and his true disciples, Judas “going at once to Jesus…said, ‘Greetings, rabbi!’ and kissed him.” (Matt. 26:49). A disciple, according to custom, never initiates this kind of kiss, indicating incredible treachery. He never was a disciple in any sense. However, when she first saw the resurrected Savior, Mary Magdelene cried, Rabboni!, an intensive Aramaic form meaning “my great master.” At least she among many got it right.
How is it with you and our Rabbi? Are your words and lives music to his ears, like Mary’s, or do they sting like Judas’? Do you love the acclaim of others or look to proclaim him? Are you his apprentice, or is he your rabbi in name only? Is he really your Master, your Rabbi?