Skip to main content

The Man Must Die



I've been a little busy lately. But then as my friends who think that I only work one day a week say, the shock of being "on duty" throughout Holy Week is fairly extreme. But anyway, what follows is one of the pieces we used in our Walk of Witness around Ballybeen today at lunchtime, with the other churches. I wrote it a few years ago based upon John 11:47-53 & 18:12-14... I removed the "b" word for the public performance, but this is the original post watershed version.


The man must die. He is worse than that madman in the desert that Herod disposed of a few years ago. John the Baptizer... We breathed a sigh of relief when he “disappeared”... Then this Galilean started stirring up trouble, I almost believed that the Baptizer had risen from the dead... Apparently they are cousins...
Well, that explains it... We all know that madness runs in families. But if we do not act quickly the whole nation may run mad.
He may not seem mad... He talks of loving God and loving others... If only it were that simple. But he hasn’t shown much love towards us... He has undermined our authority, with his sermons and his stories and his sayings... Both us and the Pharisees... Now I don’t care what he says about those religious nit-pickers... But when he attacks the priesthood he is attacking the heart of religion in this nation... The heart of the nation itself.
He showed his true colours when he burst in to the temple with his rabble and chased out the temple traders... Called the holiest place in Israel a den of thieves. How dare he! Now I admit that I wasn’t best pleased because those traders pay a percentage of their profits directly to my family for the privilege of serving the pilgrims in this way. And Passover is usually their most profitable time... But its not just the money, it’s the principle of the thing. If everyone had a say about what happened in the Temple where would we be then?
What right does he have? I Caiaphas, am High Priest of the Temple of the God of Israel; I stand in a line of priests that stretches back to Aaron himself... What is this man’s pedigree? Who is his father? A Galilean carpenter, some say. Others say that he wasn't really his father... That he was actually illegitimate... Will this backwoods bastard bring down the temple? Then how will the people atone for their sins if the temple is discredited and destroyed?
When he was challenged he claimed that if this temple were to collapse he could rebuild it in 3 days... It took King Herod 10 years to build it in our fathers time... and this man will rebuild it in three days!!! I thought he was a country carpenter, not a world record stonemason!!!
Three days. If I have my way in 3 days he will be mouldering in a pauper’s grave... But then maybe he can rise from it like his friend Lazarus. Oh, I admit he has done some amazing things... I don’t know what trickery he has used, but he is good... I’ll give him that. But it is giving the people unfair expectations...
How can they get on with everyday life if they expect God to intervene all the time? To wave a magic wand and make everything better.
This world is a hard place... And it takes hard men to take hard decisions. And my decision, reluctantly, is that this man must die.
It is better that this one man die than the whole nation be destroyed. If he continues his attacks on us he will destabilise everything... and then the Romans will take over completely... And none of us want that... Do we? But if we act quickly, as soon as the feast is over... When the people are sleeping soundly after too much food and sweet wine... We could get someone to lure him to where we can arrest him without too much trouble and then we can have him tried and handed over to the Romans for execution as a rebel. And then the Romans can take the blame. It may even unite the nation as never before... In a way he will be the saviour of the nation.
One death instead of many... It is a price worth paying...

© David A. Campton 2002

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Woman of no Distinction

Don't often post other people's stuff here... But I found this so powerful that I thought I should. It's a performance poem based on John 4: 4-30, and I have attached the original YouTube video below. A word for women, and men, everywhere... "to be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known." I am a woman of no distinction of little importance. I am a women of no reputation save that which is bad. You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances, Though you don’t really take the time to look at me, Or even get to know me. For to be known is to be loved, And to be loved is to be known. Otherwise what’s the point in doing either one of them in the first place? I WANT TO BE KNOWN. I want someone to look at my face And not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth and two ears; But to see all that I am, and could be all my hopes, loves and fears. But that’s too much to hope for, to wish for, or pray for So I don’t, not anymore. Now I keep to myself And by that

Psalm for Harvest Sunday

A short responsive psalm for us as a call to worship on Harvest Thanksgiving Sunday, and given that it was pouring with rain as I headed into church this morning the first line is an important remembrance that the rain we moan about is an important component of the fruitfulness of the land we live in: You tend the land and water it And the earth produces its abundance. You crown each year with your bounty, and our storehouses overflow with your goodness. The mountain meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are filled with corn; Your people celebrate your boundless grace They shout for joy and sing. from Psalm 65

Anointed

There has been a lot of chatter on social media among some of my colleagues and others about the liturgical and socio-political niceties of Saturday's coronation and attendant festivities, especially the shielding of the anointing with the pictured spoon - the oldest and perhaps strangest of the coronation artefacts. Personally I thought that was at least an improvement on the cloth of gold canopy used in the previous coronation, but (pointless) debates are raging as to whether this is an ancient practice or was simply introduced in the previous service to shield the Queen from the TV cameras, not for purposes of sacredness, but understandable coyness, if she actually had to bare her breast bone in puritan 1950s Britain. But as any church leader knows, anything performed twice in a church becomes a tradition. All this goes to show that I did actually watch it, while doing other things - the whole shooting match from the pre-service concert with yer wumman in that lemon-