Well, Passover is over, and now I’ve made a stand that I can never back away from even if I wanted to.

A week ago, it seemed sensible to wait until the Passover was past before making up my mind about what to do – but I had not reckoned on the events in the lead-up to the feast.

I was certainly worried about what Annas and Caiaphas might do, but I never imagined that they would try to get rid of Jesus before the feast began.  It was a bit like an avalanche, starting with something small, but rapidly getting completely out of control.  What set the scene was the resurrection of Lazarus a while ago, a miracle that terrified the chief priests – they claimed that something had somehow been faked, although they couldn’t say quite what.  Anyway, they let it be known that if anyone could help them to trap Jesus, they wanted to hear from him.

Then, in Bethany, six days before the Passover, Lazarus’ sister Mary decided to anoint Jesus’ feet with some very expensive perfume made of pure nard.[1]  I suppose it was her way of thanking Jesus for raising her brother.  I wasn’t there, but apparently Judas, one of Jesus’ disciples, got upset about what he saw as a flagrant waste of money – after all, the ointment was worth a year’s wages! – and criticised her in front of Jesus.  Jesus defended her and said that she was doing something special for his burial.

Four days later, in a different house in Bethany, another woman brought an alabaster flask containing the same sort of ointment.  She broke the flask and anointed Jesus’ head with the ointment,[2] and once again there were the same sorts of complaints, the same backlash against perceived waste, the same comments about how many poor people could have been helped if only the ointment had been converted to cash.
How blind we can be!  His disciples don’t seem to have asked or even wondered why he was talking about his burial on either of these occasions.  Maybe I was more sensitive about the subject than them because it was something that frightened me about committing myself to following Jesus: what if his frequent references to his death were fulfilled and all the hopes I had built on him came to nothing!  So my fear meant that I wasn’t there to hear, but his disciples were – and they spent their time quibbling about money instead of preparing for the death of the light of the world.

You’ll have to judge who was in the better situation: his disciples or me.

His death came as such a surprise to everyone except these women, who somehow seemed to understand.  Maybe they listened better.

Anyway, this second anointing seems to have been the last straw for Judas, because he immediately went to the chief priests and offered to betray Jesus.

They made an agreement (for money, of course) that he would secretly lead them to Jesus when there weren’t crowds of people around, in fact, on the night before the Passover feast – what we call the Day of Preparation.  Of course, I heard nothing about this until the plot had succeeded.

Could I have done anything to stop it?  I’m sure that I couldn’t have changed their minds, and as for warning Jesus? – he seems to have known anyway.

Late that night, I was called to a meeting of the council.  At least, that’s how it was put to me at first.  Maybe they were hoping that I would refuse point-blank to come at such a ridiculous hour of the night, but I persisted in asking questions, and it soon became clear that it was not actually a meeting but a trial.  The trial of Jesus.

So I was there when that sham trial took place.

I am a student of law and I love the law Moses gave to us.  But that night, I was disgusted by the complete disregard for the requirements of that law that was shown by the very people who are meant to implement it.  Law must be applied justly or it becomes oppression, and there was no justice that night!

False witnesses.

Abusing the accused and doing the best they could to lead him to condemn himself under their twisted definition of the law.

The witnesses were told the sort of evidence they should give.  If it had been a genuine case of breaking the law, this wouldn’t have been necessary.  But Caiaphas and others coached the witnesses and made it clear that all they were interested in was any sort of evidence that would allow them to condemn Jesus to death.  Naturally, it didn’t work.  Crimes that deserve the death penalty are quite clear and obvious, and Jesus could never be accused of any of them.

Finally, two witnesses mentioned the answer Jesus had given when we asked him about what authority he had to overturn the tables of the money-changers in the temple.  His answer had been, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  Caiaphas and the witnesses tried to construe this as a plot to destroy the temple!  Absurd, but the intent was malicious.

Any unbiased observer would have watched the proceedings with disbelief, but there were few there that night.  Sadly, most people in power will do anything they can to keep that power – including breaking their own rules.

It highlighted the contrast between them and Jesus.  Jesus said, “Do to others as you want them to do to you”, and that is how he behaved.  They publicly insist that everyone should obey the Law of Moses, but then broke it themselves with false witnesses and lies, not to mention secret midnight trials and paying blood money.

All in all, it was a shameful performance, but only two of us objected in any way.  There may have been others who didn’t agree with what happened, but if so, they were too afraid to speak up.  I can’t criticise them very much, given how long it has taken me to do anything to support Jesus!

I have a great deal of respect for Joseph of Arimathea, because he is an honest man.  He objected to their methods and processes, and was even willing to vote against the guilty verdict when the final decision was made.  I’m sure they’ll make him pay for it if they can.

Nevertheless, Joseph and I couldn’t stop the trial or Jesus’ condemnation, nor could we stop the others from blackmailing the Roman governor into agreeing to crucify Jesus.

I was very upset, but events moved so fast that I had no time to stop and think until I was standing near Jesus’ cross after the chief priests had mocked him and left.

I looked up at him in sympathy and regret, and it was then that I remembered what he had predicted on the night I went to see him: “as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up”.[3]

For me, that was the key!  Jesus predicted his crucifixion three years ago!  If the chief priests had been able to execute him, they would have done so by stoning.  If he had been a Roman citizen, the Romans would have killed him by beheading, shooting with arrows, strangulation or something similar – but not crucifixion.

Of all the deaths he could have died, crucifixion was the only one that fitted with his prediction of being “lifted up”.  I remembered his words so very well because he also talked about being lifted up on at least two later occasions when he taught in the temple.[4]  The second was just a few days ago after a large crowd welcomed him into Jerusalem.

He knew.

And if he knew that, what else did he know?

I wandered away from Golgotha and thought back to what he had said in the context of those times when he talked about being lifted up.  Speaking to me, he had followed it with, “that whoever believes in him may have eternal life”, which implied that his death would lead to eternal life for others.  The next time it was, “then you will know that I… do nothing on my own authority, but speak just as the Father taught me”, making it clear that his death would come through obeying God, whom he calls his father; then, a few days ago, he said that he would “draw all people” to himself.

Throughout our history, God has sent many prophets and righteous men to speak to Israel, and many of them have been killed.  Was it impossible that this could happen to the Messiah as well?  Our understanding of the great victory of the Messiah might be overly simplistic.  After all, God anointed David as king, but David had to endure many delays and lots of suffering before he finally became king.  Could the same be true of the Messiah also?  And could it even include death?  In some ways, it made complete sense that the greatest of God’s prophets and kings would suffer in the greatest way.  Yet what of the Messiah’s victory?  How could it be achieved if the Messiah was dead?  How could Jesus draw people to himself if he were dead?

I don’t know the answer beyond having some ideas of a resurrection like that of Lazarus, but I no longer need to know anymore.  I am willing to trust that Jesus knew what he was doing and saying.  After all, his death was just what he had predicted.

It may seem foolish, but I wondered then who would care for his body?

I went to look for Joseph of Arimathea and found him looking for me.  He asked me to help him care for Jesus’ body.  Pilate had given him permission to take away the body and bury it, and he needed help.  I was glad to give it.

So, Jesus is dead, having been lifted up as he predicted.  And in his death he has drawn Joseph and me to himself, as well as the centurion, who announced that he was the son of God.

Who else will he draw to himself?