Saturday in the Fifth Week

Ezekiel 37:21-28; Psalm 85:1-7; John 11:45-53

Here we have an object lesson in what happens when we try to save our lives.  

Caiaphas, I believe, is not eager to kill.  He is not bloodthirsty.  He is afraid, and he’s trying to shepherd his people.  He knows that a popular movement is likely to bring down Roman wrath, and he wants to avoid that.  He’s trying to minimize the damage caused by Jesus.  He can see the disaster awaiting them, as surely as Jesus sees crucifixion coming.  But, unlike Jesus, he thinks he can hold it off by going along.  He no longer believes in God’s direct care for the people, or in miracles.  He thinks it’s up to him to save the people.

He’s wrong.  Or, he’s right about the Romans, but wrong about God.

In another 40 years another uprising will indeed lead to Roman destruction.  The Temple will be destroyed, Jerusalem will be in ruins, thousands will die.  A new diaspora will begin, and it will take another 1900 years for Israel to be a political entity.  Caiaphas is right about what happens when you anger the imperial powers.

But Caiaphas is wrong about God.  He can’t know that out of the ruins God will make a new form of Judaism, centered not on the Temple but on the Torah.  Modern Judaism grows out of the Pharisees and manages to keep the covenant under centuries of exile and oppression.  Caiaphas, a priest of the Temple, would never look to the Pharisees for resurrection.  Caiaphas thinks it’s up to him.

This belief leads him to betray his own commitments and values, bit by bit.  He wants to hang on to what he knows so much that he becomes willing to kill for it.  

This is what it means to lose our lives when we try to save them.  We may keep breathing, but we slowly cease to be the people God made us to be.  We become idolators, gradually at first and then more fully.  We confuse the temple with the God we meet there.  We confuse our nation with God.

Usually this is so subtle we don’t see it.  When faced with a tight church budget, we cut outreach and community service to keep our buildings going.  When family budgets are hit, we “can’t afford” to pledge to church or charity.  We give up community service to “relax” in front of the TV.  We swallow our ideas, our thoughts, our feelings to “survive” a horrible boss or difficult spouse.  And one day, we’re alone - in our big crumbling church, in our house with the curtains drawn, in our cars and offices and bedrooms.  And we might wonder, “why isn’t God helping us?”

God is not a tool for our purposes.  God is not an assistant.  And God is never done creating and renewing.  If I find myself increasingly alone or boxed into tight spots, I find it helps to ask if perhaps I’ve misread the will of God.  Maybe, just maybe, God has a better plan for me than hanging on to what I have now.  But I have to be willing to let go to find out.

As we enter Holy Week and witness the power of letting go, take some time to see where you are trying to save your life as you know it.  Ask about the cost.  Then ask God to show you the path of life.  It will likely look like death.  Go anyway.