handle with care

 

John12.1-8 and Philippians 3.4b-14.

Today marks the start of Passiontide, the final two weeks leading up to Easter. The word Passion derives from the Greek paschō, which means ‘to be done to’ (in contrast to poiō, ‘to do’). Throughout the Gospels to this point, Jesus has been at work (while, as John puts it, it is still day). He is the active agent in the story, calling men and women to apprentice to him, healing the sick, driving out demons, raising the dead, asking probing questions, teaching, telling stories. But there comes a point in the Gospels (it is towards the end of the story they tell, but they give as much attention to these several days as they have given to the previous several years) where Jesus shifts from being the one who does to the one who is done to by others. Hence, the Passion of Christ, or Passiontide.

At this point, Jesus is handed over to or given into the hands of others. Some will bind him and beat him, flog him and nail him to an execution scaffold. Mary of Bethany will take his feet in her hands, pour perfume over them, and wipe his feet with her hair. There is no escaping the intimacy of this tender act.

Today, I will both take Jesus in my hands and hand Jesus over to others, into their hands.

And the question that hangs over us is, what will you do with this Jesus? How will you handle him?

The first century church planter Paul wrote to the apprentices of Jesus in Philippi saying that he considered every privilege he had in life, every opening and introduction, every opportunity and power at his disposal, to be something not to be held onto at all costs but rather something to be let go of, to consider loss (he uses the word for the waste product of our food that passes through our body and into the toilet system) when compared to the surpassing value of knowing Jesus.

This morning, I will take Jesus in my hands.

To be honest, I would get more from going for a run with my friends this morning than I will from going to church. But prioritising being with other Christians—people with whom I frankly have very little in common except for Jesus—and being where I can in a tangible sense in the world receive Jesus into my hands (as opposed to having a diffuse spiritual experience, which I could have pretty much anywhere) is not about what I get from it. It is about self-denial, about letting go of what benefits me, so as to be empty-handed as therefore able to receive the one thing that surpasses all others.