Reliving The Passion #6

Mark 14:1–2 (again)

It was now two days before the Passover and the feast of Unleavened Bread. And the chief priests and the scribes were seeking how to arrest him by stealth, and kill him; for they said, “Not during the feast, lest there be a tumult of the people.”

Here comes Jesus, closer and closer to me. Ah, the closer he comes, the less I like it. His very existence threatens mine…

I’ve grown used to my way of life. I like the familiarity. I know my place in society, my reputation, my rights and privileges, all of which are comfortable to me. I know what power I have and what responsibilities. I worked hard for these things and deserve to keep them. Behold, I am a person of some prominence—small or large, it doesn’t matter: I am! This is me. This is my identity.

But here comes Jesus to Jerusalem, the seat of my existence, the place of my authority—and all of this is threatened. I rule here because Rome allows it and because religious tradition sanctifies it. Rome requires an obedient people. Religion authorizes me to hold them in check. But if the people riot, Rome will strip me of power. If religious practice is undermined, I lose identity. If religion here is ruined, why, the whole world tips in confusion and I slide off the edge.

Yet here comes Jesus, at Passover! At the feast of Unleavened Bread! When Jerusalem’s full of pilgrims, swollen five times its size—from 50,000 to 250,000 people! Always the threat of this man is manifested in those whom his presence excites. Look how volatile the people are now! Worse than that, he is questioning religious laws developed over the centuries, the very forms by which we order ourselves and know ourselves and name ourselves.

If order is lost, so am I.

If I lose my power and prominence, I lose my identity, my being, my very self. And then I am not!

What then? Why, then I must destroy before I am destroyed. Self-preservation is a law of nature. I will arrest this Jesus by stealth and kill him. Because if I do nothing, I will be nothing.

But look: here comes Jesus in my mother, in my spouse, in my children! Always, always he is manifest in those whom he has excited. They seem so fanatical; and their love of Jesus undermines their respect for me and my authority. I’m losing prominence in my own house, and power and honor. Worse, the zealots declare that I should willingly sacrifice these things, though I need them in order to maintain my identity and to be! They say that I should actually welcome the changes Jesus causes here and now—that I should deny my very self!

What then? What will I do to the Jesus in these people, coming closer and closer to the seat of my power, to me?

Well, if I do nothing…

Ah, Jesus,

By the refining fires of your grace reduce my prideful self to ash after all. Let me become a nothing, that you might be the only something for me and in me. Be my all in all, Lord, Master of the Universe!

Amen.