Let's Be Kids Again

Each year as Holy Week approaches, I pick a particular character from the Passion narrative and I walk through the week’s events imagining myself in their shoes, asking myself, “What would you have done in those circumstances?” The word “pick” connotes that I have some authority over my selection, but most often it feels as though the characters are picking me based on life events and my current disposition. That is the case with this year’s selection - Caiaphas, the high priest of the Jewish people and the person many consider to be the animating force behind Christ’s crucifixion. 

While the original role of the high priest was to serve as the supreme religious authority of Jewish society and chief administrator of the Temple, during the period of the Roman occupation, the high priest also assumed the role of caretaker, attempting to appease the Roman authority to protect the Jewish people. Say what you will about Caiaphas, but he must have been good at his job as he retained the position for eighteen years while most other high priests during that era lasted fewer than five.  

Jesus’ public ministry didn’t begin until Caiaphas had been high priest for about ten years. By that point, Caiaphas had likely negotiated a number of controversies and defused more than a few uprisings. So when Jesus came along, I would assume Caiaphas was well aware of his actions and activities, not just in Jerusalem but throughout the area. Though Jesus’ teaching was certainly provocative, my guess is that Caiaphas remained confident in his ability to control the general narrative. That likely remained the case until the last few months of Jesus’ ministry when Jesus seemed to push back even harder against the formal authority of the Sanhedrin. Additionally, during a number of Jesus’ miracles, he forgives the sins of those he is healing. This is a direct personal affront to Caiaphas as Jewish tradition holds that the most important duty and honor of the high priest was to enter the Holy of Holies once a year on Yom Kippur to atone for the sins of the entire Jewish people. Still, I could see a scenario where Caiaphas would want to show some restraint so as not to arouse the Roman authority. 

That is until Palm Sunday.

A detail I failed to previously recognize is that Pontius Pilate didn’t live in Jerusalem; his formal residence and headquarters were in Caesarea. However, during Jewish festivals and holy days, he would travel to Jerusalem with Roman troops as a display of force to ensure that the occupied Jewish people remained in line. Thus, Pilate’s presence that particular Passover was largely to deter scenes like Jesus’ celebrated entrance into the city and his confrontation with the vendors and money changers in the Temple area. One could assume that this did not make Pilate happy, and it would have put Caiaphas in a very undesirable predicament. At this point, Caiaphas has little choice but to act. 

One can only speculate as to Caiaphas’ true feelings toward Jesus. At least a few members of the Sanhedrin were attracted to Jesus’ teachings. Could he have been one of them? Could he envision a scenario by which Jesus was the Messiah sent to free the Jewish people from Roman rule? If so, Caiaphas would be the one to unleash this revolution by throwing his full support behind the movement! Sadly, my guess is that he never fully considered these things. Sure, Roman occupation wasn’t great, but things could certainly be worse. In fact, for him things had turned out pretty nicely. No, there was too much to lose. In the end, he chose the practical path of preservation. What would you have done?

If I were Caiaphas, I think the story would have ended the same way, and that’s a bit unsettling to admit. There was a time when I was young and brash when the capacity of my dreams would have allowed me to at least entertain the possibility of the “Jesus as Messiah” scenario Caiaphas faced. But over time such dreams have been diminished by the friction of everyday living and the acquisition of a comfortable life that somehow I feel I have earned. After 2,000 years of living in the glow and warmth of the redeeming light of Jesus, humanity - or at least this human - is still no better than Caiaphas. As Lent is a period of preparation, one of its greatest lessons is starkly reminding us of the stubbornly consistent depths of human imperfection and sin. 

Then there is Easter and its renewed hope! 

The central promise of Easter lies in the resurrection, and it is a powerful reminder that death is not the end but a transition to a new beginning. I’m not sure I’ve spent enough time attempting to reconcile the infinite nature of eternity. Though we obviously have no capacity to appreciate what eternal life might be like, based on our feeble human understanding, one might surmise that it includes some degree of dynamism and change. After all, if our hope is to reconnect with loved ones in the afterlife, would that not alter our eternal existence with each occurrence? 

I bring this up because if our time on earth is to be spent preparing for an eternity of unimaginable promise, we should really be trying harder to get good at it now. Instead, it feels like life is a series of regressions. The older we get the wiser we become, but the wiser we get the less we dream. There are various points in our lives where we simply choose to settle, and that’s perfectly acceptable so long as settling doesn’t become our default. 

The Gospel of Mark recounts Jesus in the midst of children saying, “Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Particularly as we age, maybe the intent of our Lenten practice and the grace of Easter should focus on providing renewed vigor, reawakening our capacity to stand in awe of the complexities and fragility of life, and reclaiming the audacity to believe we can make a difference in a plan we don’t fully grasp.

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CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman, AVLI President

vol 7 issue 6