Resisting Change

 

Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him. But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what he had done. So the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the council, and said, “What are we to do? This man is performing many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.” But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.” He did not say this on his own, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God. So from that day on they planned to put him to death.

Jesus therefore no longer walked about openly among the Jews, but went from there to a town called Ephraim in the region near the wilderness; and he remained there with the disciples.

Now the Passover of the Jews was near, and many went up from the country to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves. They were looking for Jesus and were asking one another as they stood in the temple, “What do you think? Surely he will not come to the festival, will he?”

I had invited a Christian friend to a prayer meeting one day. After the session was over, he raved about how wonderful the worship was, and how powerful the preaching was, and generally what a great time he had. Naturally, I thought that he would come the following week, but there was no sign of him. When I asked him why he didn’t turn up, he said it was because he didn’t want to change. “I know if I come for your meetings, I will be a different person,” he said. “And I don’t want to change!” 

I was reminded of him when I read today’s passage. Jesus has just brought Lazarus back to life after the man had been dead and buried four days, a miracle the likes of which nobody had ever seen before. There was no greater evidence that Jesus was the Savior, and many people believed in him. However, some didn’t. They went to report what they had seen to the Pharisees, but instead of them receiving the news with joy—here was the long awaited Messiah—they were afraid everything would change.

“What are we to do?”, they ask. “This man is performing many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him. And the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.” And of course, the most important thing that is unsaid but in everyone’s mind is this great concern: “We will lose our power.” And what a terrible thing that would be! So what’s the solution? Kill the harbinger of change. “It is better,” declares the high priest, “to have one man die.” And from they on they planned to kill him.

Jesus went into hiding, but his time to die was fast approaching. The Passover was near, and Jews came from all over to Jerusalem to purify themselves in preparation for the festival. They knew that their leaders were plotting on killing Jesus, but apart from wondering if he would show up for the festival, they couldn’t care less if he lived or died. It’s ironical that this man they were so apathetic about was going to be the Passover Lamb, provided by God himself for their salvation. 

Do we come under either category: those who don’t want to change, or those who are apathetic? It doesn’t really matter. Both are declarations of selfishness. We want to have our own way. We want to drink. We want to gamble. We want to indulge in sexual immorality. We want to worship as we choose to, when we choose to. We want to fashion God in our image and likeness, rather than be fashioned in his. And, funnily enough, we believe we have the kind of faith that Jesus is pleased with.

If this is true of us, perhaps we need to reexamine our faith. I know the consequences of this. Some of us, not wanting to change, will join our voices with the Pharisees and say, “Crucify him.” But I hope the majority of us will open our hearts to him and cry, Hosanna!