Friday, April 7, 2023

7 April 2023 - sticking to the script


When he said to them, “I AM,” 
they turned away and fell to the ground.
So he again asked them,
“Whom are you looking for?”
They said, “Jesus the Nazorean.”

At the sheer force of his identity "they turned away and fell to the ground". Every knee would bow at the name above all names (see Philippians 2:10), and they, though they did not intend it, were no exception. And this was apparently so intense that it was as though Jesus himself had to remind them what they were about after the initial impact of these words. 

Jesus answered,
“I told you that I AM.
So if you are looking for me, let these men go.”

The intensity of the presence of Jesus himself might have led the soldiers and guards to arrest anyone and everyone except Jesus himself. But this was not the plan. The disciples were not yet ready to follow Jesus and it would not be forced upon them to their loss.

This was to fulfill what he had said, 
“I have not lost any of those you gave me.”

Everyone seemed altogether ready to bring about a scene that was different in some way or other from the will of the Father. Simon Peter, ever boastful, was willing to fight for the cause. But this was not a cause that could be won by fighting. To truly share the lot of Jesus in his hour could not be accomplished with a sword. And it would remain the case throughout the history of Christianity that the will of the Father would be accomplished, not by the sword, but by the chalice.

Jesus said to Peter,
“Put your sword into its scabbard.
Shall I not drink the cup that the Father gave me?”

Pilate wanted to dismiss Jesus as a Jewish problem, to pass off responsibility to others and evade the intuition he had that Jesus was innocent. But though Jesus was innocent he was more than just a bystander randomly selected. The sphere of his royal authority meant that even Pilate was not exempt from the need to decide for or against Jesus. Jesus was the King over all who would listen to the truth. And no one could remain neutral in regard truth itself. 

Jesus answered,
“You say I am a king.
For this I was born and for this I came into the world, 
to testify to the truth.
Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

Pilate tried to take the only out available to him, one taken by many, especially politicians, which was to have a pragmatic relationship even to the truth itself. He said, "What is truth?", apparently deciding that even truth itself was malleable enough to be subjected to his political ends. At first he thought this impulse would be enough to allow him to spare Jesus. But it was revealed eventually that it was not sufficient to merely not be against Jesus and the truth he spoke. By not deciding for Jesus he inexorably succumbed to the pressure against him, directed as at was directly at his those values which truly mattered most to him.

Consequently, Pilate tried to release him; but the Jews cried out, 
“If you release him, you are not a Friend of Caesar.
Everyone who makes himself a king opposes Caesar.”

Jesus himself would have found it easy to convince Pilate to dismiss the charges if he had simply been willing to equivocate and explain himself. Pilate was ready and waiting for such an explanation, ready to shift the balance away from the chalice Jesus knew he was meant to drink. And so again we witness Jesus saying exactly what he needed to say to continue to architect the circumstances precisely in accord with his Father's will. And this did not stop with Pilate. Even from the cross itself had continued to act in fidelity to his Father's plan. Precisely at the moment when any of us would have been far too concerned with ourselves and our pain to think about anything or anyone else Jesus was still demonstrating his love for the Father and for us.

When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved
he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.”
Then he said to the disciple,
“Behold, your mother.”

Even the thirst of Jesus on the cross was not merely succumbing to a bodily impulse. It was similar to when he asked the Samaritan woman for a drink. His true thirst was that she would ask him for the living water he desired to give. So too here, the thirst of Jesus was that we would thirst for him, that we would desire the living water which was just then about to flow from his Sacred Heart.

but one soldier thrust his lance into his side, 
and immediately blood and water flowed out.

This was the living water of the Holy Spirit which could finally be given. It had not been given previously "because Jesus was not yet glorified" (see John 7:39). This was the true stream flowing forth from the true temple of God, the source of every grace and blessing (see Ezekiel 47:1, Psalm 46:4, Revelation 22:1-3). Of all of the many different ways the Passion of Jesus could have gone if others had their way, only in this way was the Spirit able to be poured out as Jesus desired. And it was and remains his thirst that we drink from this stream.

Let us not, therefore, shy away from the fullness of love that Jesus displayed for us. He allowed himself to become "one of those from whom people hide their faces", but did so precisely for us, for our infirmities and sufferings and sins, and did so when all of us had gone astray. Even our own weakness, like the weakness of Peter, is no longer enough to prevent the Lord from lavishing his love upon us. Jesus himself knows our human frame. He sympathizes with us in our weakness. He is ready to forgive even our deepest betrayals. The throne of grace was opened to us at the very moment his side was pierced, at the moment that the veil of the temple was torn. We now have the assurance that if we will but avail ourselves we will always and forevermore be able to "receive mercy and to find grace for timely help."



Thursday, April 6, 2023

6 April 2023 - to the end


Today's Readings (Evening Mass)

He loved his own in the world and he loved them to the end.

He loved them not only to his apparent end on the cross, but to the end, or destiny, of each of them, unto the wholeness and holiness which he desired for them, which he alone could give, and which alone could fulfill them. He does so for us as well. He loves us with our end in view, in light of destiny that is greater than anything we could ask or imagine, anything that eye has seen or ear has heard. We often act as though our end is the one we have in common with the beasts, to feed, to reproduce, and to die. But Jesus knows our true end, and it is his love alone that can help us to transcend our limited self-understanding. This is especially so because the path up first must go down, and the exultation at the end can only be the result of humility and self-giving love here and now.

he rose from supper and took off his outer garments.
He took a towel and tied it around his waist.
Then he poured water into a basin
and began to wash the disciples’ feet
and dry them with the towel around his waist.

In the incarnation Jesus emptied himself taking the form of a slave and coming in human likeness. His entire life reflected this willingness to empty himself in order that he could draw near to us. In washing his disciples feet Jesus revealed the inner logic behind his whole life, the incarnation, the Eucharist, and the Passion. Jesus stripped himself of what was his by right of his divinity and embraced humility so that he could be close enough to us to serve us, to touch even the most hidden and shameful parts of our lives with his healing power. We might imagine that taking the form a slave diminished his dignity, and did not pay due regard to his true end. We might be highly suspicious of him when he said that we too must follow that path and example, as though we too would become something less than human by doing so. But ultimately, though in a mysterious way, it is precisely in this kind of love that we come nearer to the end for which we were made, that we more nearly come to resemble Jesus himself. In the end it is his divine life that we are meant to share. And this dirty chore, this humble act of service, is exactly how that divine life expresses itself in human form.

Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.”

We should give Peter credit where it is due. He was the one who said "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord" (see Luke 5:8). So also here, Peter did not take for granted the seemingly unfitting approach of one so great to a sinner such as himself. It was good for him that he did not take that approach for granted, and waited for Jesus to insist and to reassure him. What of us? Jesus is constantly humbling himself in order to serve us, especially in the Sacraments. Do we simply receive him as a matter of course? Or do we truly realize that he, 'teacher' and 'master' is lowering himself in order to wash the feet of the sinful men and women that we, no less than Peter, truly are?

“Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.”

Receiving the gift of humble self-giving love from Jesus is the something that chaffs against our pride. There is a part of us that desires to see ourselves on equal terms with Jesus, a part that would like to take care of our own feet. But this act of Jesus in fact reveals of desperate neediness, and our inability to clean ourselves. Seeing the master lower himself, receiving this love, is the only way that we ourselves can come to share that love with others. When we really recognize what is happening- and let us pray for this gift- it will finally break our hearts open and allow the love that Jesus first pours in to flow out to others.

If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet,
you ought to wash one another’s feet.
I have given you a model to follow,
so that as I have done for you, you should also do.

In this act of self-emptying love Jesus held nothing back. He gave the gift of his very self, body, blood, soul, and divinity in the Eucharist. He took the fruit of his self-offering on the cross and gave it us as a gift. He himself is the true lamb of God, the one whose blood is now meant to mark the lintels and doorposts of our hearts. This is our memorial feast, our perpetual institution. Let us embrace Jesus as he himself draws near, as he lowers himself to wash us by water and blood, and allow him to love us unto our true end: eternal life with him.




Wednesday, April 5, 2023

5 April 2023 - hey judas


One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot,
went to the chief priests and said,
"What are you willing to give me
if I hand him over to you?"

The chief priests wanted to put Jesus to death but on their own they were having trouble finding the right moment because they feared the crowds who regarded Jesus as a prophet. They instead preferred to intrude at some other time apart from the crowds, a time which was otherwise reserved for Jesus and his disciples. Judas, in his greed, knew he would be able to oblige, to sell the privilege of his intimacy with Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. He ultimately brought them to arrest Jesus under the cover of night and apart from the crowds in the garden of Gethsemane. Jesus was thus to become like a new Joseph, sold off by a brother for silver pieces. But like Joseph, Jesus might also have said, "you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good" (see Genesis 50:20).

What can we learn from the fact that even a disciple of Jesus, someone who was intimate with him, and like a brother to him, was willing to betray him? It is illustrative that even a disciple, even one who presumably started off good, was not guaranteed to persevere. It seems likely that for Judas it must have been a problem of expectations. Did he hope from the beginning for a kingdom of worldly wealth, just as the Sons of Zebedee hoped for a kingdom of worldly power, but, unlike them, fail to make the leap to a more spiritual way of thinking? Or did he at some point have a spiritual mindset, but gradually let his baser desires win out over that more spiritual hope until it was silent? Whatever the case may have been he decided at some point to get from Jesus what he could get rather than wait for what Jesus might eventually desire to give. After all, at that particular point in the story it didn't look like Jesus would be in much of a position to give anything. Our own risk is that in such dark nights when consolations are running low that we might take matters into our own hands to console ourselves. In this way we come to justify our sins as simply filling in the gaps left by the apparent lack of response by Jesus himself. This is especially so when to continue to stand with him does call us to fortitude, to act as we know we ought to act even when faced with pressure to do otherwise, such as the pressure to which all of the disciples at least momentarily succumbed.

And they all left him and fled (see Mark 14:50).

As we see the Passion of our Lord drawing near we must not merely calculate what is the greatest amount of value that we can attain for ourselves. We must instead look to continue with the Lord in the intimacy he desires to share with us, the intimacy that is perfectly displayed in the Passover when he transforms that meal into the Eucharist and gives us himself under the appearance of bread and wine. This call to intimacy tends to push on us in two directions at once. It chaffs against the worldly impulses in us. And this can drive our inner Judas to treachery if we let it. But it also draws that which is higher within us to union with Jesus himself. This is the gift that renders all darkness bearable, the hidden presence that gives luminous inner meaning to all things. We know that we do not always fully receive all the grace this gift is meant to convey. But let us prepare ourselves, and resolve ourselves now, to be open to all that the Lord wants to do in our hearts during the Triduum. If we do so we too can share the confidence of the suffering servant spoken of by Isaiah.

He is near who upholds my right;
if anyone wishes to oppose me,
let us appear together.
Who disputes my right?
Let him confront me.
See, the Lord GOD is my help;
who will prove me wrong?





Tuesday, April 4, 2023

4 April 2023 - the traitor within


"Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me."

Jesus knew the one that would betray him and yet he did not single him out explicitly. This may have helped prevent the other disciples from aggressively intervening too early in order to prevent something which Jesus himself had already resolved to allow. Yet it also seems likely that he desired the response from his disciples in which they "looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant". He provoked them "to say to him one after another, “Is it I, Lord?”" (see Matthew 26:22). Judas was the one who would betray him, yet they all had a traitor of some sort lurking in their hearts, driven by different motives, yet alike in their potential willingness to prioritize something else over Jesus himself.

"Master, who is it?"
Jesus answered,
"It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it."
So he dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas,
son of Simon the Iscariot.

It was as though their own introspection made them unable to hear the rather obvious way in which Jesus indicated the identity of his betrayer, as though they were still too concerned about their own potential culpability, and perhaps looking all around them, also too suspicious of all the others, to process the answer to the question from the beloved disciple. 

Why not simply call out Judas by name? It was as though Jesus did not want to accuse him, did not delight in this foreknowledge. It was as though saying the name would somehow write the condemnation in stone. He did not desire to alienate him nor to separate him from the other eleven. And so he indicated him not by dispassionately naming him but by saying, "It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it", as if to say, "my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread" (see Psalm 41:9). But by indicating the Judas was his friend he was not simply trying to make the rebuke more stinging but to invite Judas to reconsider and to not to abandon that friendship. But it was not to be. It was as though at that moment Judas resolved to go through with his plan about which he might have been until that moment wavering, and "Satan entered him". Perhaps friendship with the Lord seemed too trivial, compared to whatever aspirations drove his greed, and the juxtaposition of the two possible objectives pushed him to chose the later over the former.

Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him.
If God is glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself,
and he will glorify him at once.

The coming of Good Friday and the cross is something we still often read more as unintended tragedy than anything else. But it was already upon the cross, and not only at Easter, that this glorification about which Jesus spoke began. It was by being lifted up on the cross that he would draw all men to himself.  We witness this in the good thief who recognized Jesus and the centurion who said, "Truly this was the Son of God!" (see Matthew 27:54). It was then that the prophecy was  fulfilled that they would look "on him whom they have pierced" (see Zechariah 12:10). They would weep for him as the prophecy said, but they would receive also the attendant "spirit of grace and pleas for mercy". Why do we insist on emphasizing the glory of the cross? Because we are not meant to do our best to ignore it and struggle on to Easter. We are meant to join those who gaze upon the glorious one, the one who even from the cross reigned as the Lord of heaven and earth.

"Where I am going, you cannot follow me now,
though you will follow later."

Perhaps they couldn't follow without first seeing the way opened for them by Jesus himself. They couldn't recognize the path without Jesus himself calmly insisting that his every step was intentional. They couldn't recognize the goodness of the choice until they experienced the way that Jesus first took up his own cross out of love for them. They could, like Peter, boast about what they would like to do. But faced with the reality of it all such boasting was brought to nothing. And yet, in spite of that, they would indeed "follow later". So too are we meant to follow by living lives that are offerings of love. To do so we must recognize the potential traitor that is within each one of us so as to choose instead the friendship of Jesus himself. Having chosen that friendship we must witness the lengths to which our Friend chose to go for us, and by receiving that love, be healed.


Monday, April 3, 2023

3 April 2023 - fragrant foul?


Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil
made from genuine aromatic nard
and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair;
the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil.

What motivated Mary to make this costly and extravagant gift to Jesus? What could it have been if not love? This was not something that everyone understood. Mary's time with Jesus, sitting at his feet and listening to his words had caused her affection to grow. And it grew to the degree that it was as if she didn't need anyone to tell her that the hour of the Passion would soon but upon them and that the death of Jesus was at hand. It was as though her love of Jesus gave her the intuition that now was the time for an act such as this, one which Jesus received as "for the day of my burial".

How do we react when we see this extravagant love lavished upon the Lord? Do we celebrate, inhaling deeply the fragrance that filled the house, redounding to the enjoyment of all within? Or do we instead complain about how impractical such an offering was, how much better used the time and resources might have been? 

Then Judas the Iscariot, one of his disciples,
and the one who would betray him, said,
"Why was this oil not sold for three hundred days' wages
and given to the poor?"
He said this not because he cared about the poor
but because he was a thief and held the money bag
and used to steal the contributions.

Perhaps like Judas we respond from our own greediness, thinking not about the poor, but about what we ourselves might have selfishly done with the gift. Or perhaps we are simply jealous that Mary felt so deeply an affection which we do not seem to share. After all, when have we been moved to make such an generous gift to Jesus that served no purpose except to show our love for him? We feel, perhaps, a bit hollow that our own love for Jesus does not seem to move us in the same way that Mary was moved by her love for him. We witness Mary drying the feet of Jesus with her hair, and, if we feel anything at all, it may well be revulsion. But Mary herself must have unlocked this level of intimacy with Jesus precisely by sitting at those feet whenever the opportunity allowed. She lived her life from this posture of humility and love, making what she did the logical culmination of what had gone before.

Holy Week is above all a time to draw near to Jesus, to sit at his feet and to lavish upon him such acts of love as we can manage. We are meant to allow our affection for Jesus to be a genuine motivation, to not hide from it, or be embarrassed by it. It is in fact Jesus himself that is the one who ultimately draws this love from hearts such as ours which, at best, do not love readily or with ease. And the result is not negligible, not merely a nice symbolic approximation of our relationship. It becomes a genuine offering, even a participation in the one offering of Jesus himself on the cross. 

And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God (see Ephesians 5:2).

Just as Christ's offering was a fragrant aroma before God so too do our own gifts become pleasing when they are given through him, out of our union with him.

I am well supplied, having received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God (see Philippians 4:18).

Our Lord is gentle in the way that he works in our hearts, not "crying out, not shouting, not making his voice heard in the street". He is ever a perfect gentlemen, not forcing anything, not breaking even a bruised reed, not quenching even a wick that is smoldering. It might seem that all of this gentleness was opposed to justice, just as Judas seemed to suggest. But the chosen of the Lord, Jesus himself, chose the way of love to bring forth justice. And it was because he walked the path of self-surrender that the victory of justice was gained for the world and permanently assured in the new and eternal covenant. Perhaps this gentleness and self-surrender can elicit from us our own response, our own fragrant offering to help fill the house and the world. It can if we let it, if we are attentive, as Mary was to the gift of love that we first received.

I believe that I shall see the bounty of the LORD
in the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD with courage;
be stouthearted, and wait for the LORD.


Sunday, April 2, 2023

2 April 2023 - a word to rouse us


The Lord GOD has given me
a well-trained tongue,
that I might know how to speak to the weary
a word that will rouse them.

Jesus was the one with a well-trained tongue who could give strength to the weary, the one prophesied by Isaiah. But who are the weary if not ourselves? Aren't we the ones who know the magnitude of the events ahead but yet cannot keep watch with Jesus for one hour? Let us hear him rouse us, leading us on the path of discipleship:

Watch and pray that you may not undergo the test.
The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

Like Peter, James, and John we have the Spirit drawing us onward after Jesus himself. And at the same time we have our flesh, weighting us down, slowing our progress, and cloudy our awareness. This human weakness requires a spiritual corrective if we want to stand on solid ground when our turn comes to be tested. We must not sleep as the disciples slept, but instead pray as the master prayed. We must not allow ourselves to abandon him in his hour of need, but instead keep watch with him.

My Father, if it is not possible that this cup pass
without my drinking it, your will be done!

Jesus himself was not presumptuous. He did not simply assume and take for granted that he would act as he knew he must in the hour of his Passion. Instead he prepared himself in advance and by prayer set his mind and will for what was to come. This was when he set his "face like flint". But this was something more than the mere resolution to act stoically in the face of the violence he would undergo. Rather, it was a resolve to do his Father's will in spite of his human desire to avoid pain to which he committed himself. He decided for the the long-term and lasting joy that was set before him (see Hebrews 12:2) rather than short-term comfort and freedom from suffering.

Jesus prayed this way to teach us how to pray. If we allow sleep to overtake us we may neglect to gather the grace we will need when we face situations like that faced by Peter.

"You too were with Jesus the Galilean."
But he denied it in front of everyone, saying,
"I do not know what you are talking about!"

It is too easy to give in in the moment and to say what is convenient and easy rather than what is true. Jesus taught that we should not prepare in advance what we would say, because the words themselves would be given. But at the same time we are taught that we should prepare constantly by prayerful resolve of our will to be ready always and everywhere to bear witness to the Son of God, the reason for the hope that is in (see First Peter 3:15). This was why the last lines of the prayer Jesus taught were "lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil" (see Matthew 6:13). Though it is often precisely in repeating such prayers as this that our attention wavers it is nevertheless precisely here that may find preparation for what lies ahead. Martyrs were generally able to offer their lives because of the way they had dedicated themselves to the will of the Father and the Son in advance of the time when that resolve was tested. Because they committed themselves to the imitation of the attitude that was also in Christ Jesus who "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave" during their lives they were also able to follow him in their deaths.

he humbled himself,
becoming obedient to the point of death,
even death on a cross.

The point for us is that we should prepare now with the gift of prayer and the example of Jesus himself that have been given to us. We shouldn't wait for the end and simply assume, or, we should say, presume upon God's mercy. Yes, God delights to show mercy. But we want to begin to avail ourselves of it now to make sure we are open to it during the hour of our trial. 

Then Peter remembered the word that Jesus had spoken:
"Before the cock crows you will deny me three times."
He went out and began to weep bitterly.

Even with the best of intentions it is a given that our fallen human nature will sometimes prevail and we will sometimes fail to follow Jesus in generous freedom of heart. The good news for us is that God delights to give second chances. Although we ought not count on second chances in contemplating a plan of action, we may delight in them we see ourselves fallen and having succumbed to sin. We know that our failure can be the same for us as Peter's betrayal was for him, a doorway to deeper reconciliation, and greater commitment to the Father's will. The path that Peter failed to follow at first we know he did follow eventually. This, generally speaking, is the painful path by which all disciples may grow, and may hope to become one day fully trained and like our teacher (see Luke 6:40).

We remember that even though failures seem inevitable we have also been given examples of fidelity to inspire us to remain near to Jesus even during the darkest of times, among whom "were Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee". These holy women followed the path that even the first pope feared to tread. We may imagine that their affection for Jesus himself instilled in them holy habits of prayer and that, when the time came, it was not even a question of what they would do. They would be as close to Jesus in his suffering as they could. They were the proto-contemplatives of the Christian tradition, desiring to share with Christ in everything.

Jesus took bread, said the blessing,
broke it, and giving it to his disciples said,
"Take and eat; this is my body."

The Eucharist was the key context that revealed that what appeared to be merely a brutal death, and the ultimate failure of such a promising prophetic figure, was in fact a sacrificial offering to God. The death of Christ was not unintentional or something beyond his control. Rather he handed himself over to the Father for us, "for the forgiveness of sins". But even this was not the end goal, which was rather the life that we, free from sin, could share with him. This was his Father's will and the true joy set before him.

when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the LORD shall prosper in his hand (see Isaiah 53:10).

As we now draw near to the Triduum let us prepare ourselves with prayer. We should do this because, although we recognize the greatness of the feasts to come, we recognize also our own weakness, our inability to enter in as much as we would like. Spiritual warfare is common as any feast of the Church draws near because the devil does not want us to reap the benefits of grace that such feasts are meant to pour out. But if we avail ourselves of the grace now, we will be ready then, and will receive all that God intends for us.


Saturday, April 1, 2023

1 April 2023 - for the nation and the world


"What are we going to do?
This man is performing many signs.
If we leave him alone, all will believe in him,
and the Romans will come
and take away both our land and our nation."

The Sanhedrin refused to listen to the invitation from Jesus to "believe the works, so that you may realize and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father". They did recognize that he performed signs, and that these signs were so persuasive that eventually "all will believe in him", but could only think of them in terms of politics. Their concern was only about how it would affect the delicate status quo which allowed them to maintain some measure of religious authority as long as they didn't become a problem for the Romans. They were deeply committed to this tenuous balance of power because from it they derived a sense of safety stemming from a relative sense of control. Jesus was performing works that testified that his Father was working in and through him. But the Sanhedrin could only see him as a wildcard that could upset the balance. They weren't concerned with what his works meant, much less what he himself actually was, but only with the danger he represented to the control they imagined themselves to have over the situation of their nation and their lives individually.

"You know nothing,
nor do you consider that it is better for you
that one man should die instead of the people,
so that the whole nation may not perish."

Caiaphas no doubt intended the superficial meaning of these words, that the outlier should be removed, the unpredictable element destroyed, in order to prevent military retribution by the Romans. The Romans had a history of destroying what they perceived to be rebellious movements among the Jews, and they might well have seen Jesus the same way. This threat may have been entirely real. Perhaps this time they would not only destroy him and his movement but also finally become fed up with the nation which kept giving rise to such movements and cause the "whole nation" to "perish". Such, we say, was most likely the meaning Caiaphas intended while he spoke. But because he was the high priest for that year there was something deeper and more true that was spoken through him.

He did not say this on his own,
but since he was high priest for that year,
he prophesied that Jesus was going to die for the nation,
and not only for the nation,
but also to gather into one the dispersed children of God.

The death of Jesus was not going to turn the tide of Roman aggression away from Israel. Precisely what the Sanhedrin feared did in fact happen with the destruction of the temple in 70 AD. Yet at a deeper level the death of Jesus was precisely for that nation and also the entire world, to free them from the true oppression of sin, the true oppressor, the Devil. Having defeated these enemies Jesus would then gather all the dispersed children of God into his Kingdom. This was time about which Ezekiel prophesied.

I will take the children of Israel from among the nations
to which they have come,
and gather them from all sides to bring them back to their land.
I will make them one nation upon the land,
in the mountains of Israel,
and there shall be one prince for them all.

On the one hand it might have seemed that the prophecy of Ezekiel had failed when the temple was destroyed. But those with the eyes of faith could see that God himself had indeed brought it to fulfillment in a supernatural way. Rather than destroying the Roman oppressors Jesus destroyed the powers of darkness who instigated and used divisions such as those between Jew and Gentile to maintain a world of hostility in violence. The cross of Christ tore down the dividing wall between peoples and nations (see Ephesians 2:14). All those who received the gift of salvation purchased by Jesus on his cross would be made one body with him, and find themselves united even with those who would have previously been their enemies as fellow brothers and sisters in the Lord. So it was not as though the problem of Roman aggression was left unanswered. Rather, Jesus chose to treat the deepest cause rather than mere symptoms.

So from that day on they planned to kill him.

It was the raising of Lazarus that finally seemed to push them over the edge and caused them to actively plot the death of Jesus. It was true, therefore, that Jesus gave his life for Lazarus. But John the Evangelist would have us see that it was not only for the sake of Lazarus and those others whom he healed during his earthly ministry. Jesus did not die for them only, nor only for his nation, but for the whole world and for each one of us individually. It has been said, and is true, that Jesus would have died just for us, for any of us, even if we were the only person in the world. He desired us to be his friends, even while we were yet enemies, and would prove it by laying down his life for our sakes.

My dwelling shall be with them;
I will be their God, and they shall be my people.
Thus the nations shall know that it is I, the LORD,
who make Israel holy,
when my sanctuary shall be set up among them forever.

Have we fully received the death of Jesus as done for us, for you and for me? If so then the words of Paul will have poignant resonance for us: "you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body" (see First Corinthians 6:20). Are we still living as though the old divisions between peoples and nations are unbridgeable, ultimate realities? Do we still turn chiefly to power and politics as though such strategies could somehow resolve or at least mitigate such admittedly challenging issues? Are we in fact a people who has been given an unfathomable gift and inheritance but do not avail ourselves of it? 

Jesus, please teach us that you died for us. Please reveal to us everything that you purchased for us by your death so that we can come to live more fully in your Kingdom and to rejoice to know that your sanctuary is set up among us forever.