"Would that even today you knew the way that leads to peace."

Jesus sounded that warning, and though the events of subsequent years would prove him correct concerning Jerusalem, people did not take him seriously. Yes, they admired his facility with words. They were enthralled by his eloquent stories and parables. He actually made God seem almost real. That's why they welcomed his with palm leaves waving and shouts of "Hosannas!" ringing in the air. But Jesus believed that the fate of the world was hanging in the balance; that it really mattered whether you took the word of the Lord seriously. And he expressed himself so well: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind."

When Jesus first began saying such things, the people were inspired. They were enthralled by his charisma. They welcomed him into the city as a conquering hero. It was such good theater. But people were more interested in the entertainment than the truth. After all, it requires very little of us to sit back in our seats and enjoy the show. But to see, to feel, to touch, to taste the truth of the gospel and to act upon it, that requires something more.

In coming to Jerusalem, Jesus wanted to show that religion was not just a matter of rhetoric; the question of God lies at the very center of human existence. And as the final days of his life unfolded, one by one, the people of Jerusalem came to the realization that Jesus was all too serious for their liking.

When they first heard about him, the rich thought that Jesus was really quite charming.

After all, he spoke with majesty about the lilies of the field. "Do not be anxious about the morrow, what you should eat and what you should wear, but look at the lilies of the field, they neither toil nor spin," he said. Sure, these words were comforting to the rich, for the rich don't have to toil or spin an any case. And they aren't anxious about things like food and clothing; for they have all of the things the heart could possibly desire and more. For the rich it's comforting to think that the poor might be satisfied with the suit of clothing that God has provided, or that the homeless might actually choose to live without shelter, like the lilies of the field, for then no one needs to be bothered by the sight of the homeless and the naked poor.

So the rich were well pleased by his talk about the lilies. They were pleased only until they saw how serious Jesus was. And they heard his words to the rich young man, "Go, sell what you have and give it to the poor." So Jesus soon lost his credibility with the rich.

And at first he was seen as a champion of the poor.

And for good reason. He seemed to be taking their side. "Blessed are the poor," he said. But when they pressed him for details on precisely how the wealth would be transferred into their hands, they were disappointed. "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and then all these things will be added unto you." Gradually Jesus began to lose his support among the poor. 

And at first he was popular among the deeply religious people of the city.

They were enthralled when he went to the temple and threw out the money changers. "My house shall be a house of prayer," he said. "But you have made it a den of thieves." What drama, what excitement as he shook the whip and sent the cloud of doves flying into the air. So the religious people were excited at first. They thought he would start a revival that would sweep their city. At last they could get back to that old time religion, just like it used to be when they were growing up. But the religious people were offended when Jesus insisted upon eating with the prostitutes and the tax collectors. And his words for the pious were somewhat less than flattering.

"Do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on the street corners, that they may be seen. But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your father who is in secret, and your father who is in secret will reward you."

And so, gradually, the pious citizens turned against him. So that when Pilate asked the crowd whether to pardon Jesus or Barabbas, the rebel, they chose Barabbas in one voice, and there was not a single group that rose in his defense.

You see he was not willing to be a champion of their causes, however important. He had only one thing in mind: that God would become the focal point, the hinge, upon which the doors of their hearts would open. And he saw that the people were more concerned about the things that belong to the periphery of life. Just like today. For many of us, the things that belong to the periphery have become central, whereas God, who is the center, has been relegated to the circumference, to the surface, where things become rather shallow.

There are so many things that claim our attention and capture our allegiance: pressures of a career, the problems of our personal and financial life, the stress of living in a family, the isolation of being alone. We are torn and buffeted by the cross currents and the conflicting winds that blow from every direction and we lack a sense of God's peace at the center.

Looking out over the city of Jerusalem, Jesus might just as well have been looking out upon a large city like New York. "Would that even today you knew the way that leads to peace." But at the center, there was a deep longing; there was a void, and when there is a void at the center, the things of lesser importance fill the void and take hold with a terrible ferocity.

For example, the rich, who feign such indifference to money, know only too well how money can define a person's character and enslave a person's very being. And the poor, while yearning desperately to be free of poverty, are still afraid in their heart of hearts that it will require more effort and sacrifice to be free of poverty than to continue suffering. And even the sick and the dying, who cry out in their prayers for healing, still know how dependant they have become upon the very sickness which works into the heart and center of life. Perhaps I should say, we who are sick and dying, for all of us have a sickness unto death, and we let the prospect of death poison and define our lives, lacking peace at the center.

It was Christ's awesome calling to expose these secrets for all to see.

And the truth he shared with the disciples those last few days was this: "Truly, truly I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains alone, but if it dies, it bears much fruit. He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life will keep it." "He who loses his life will keep it."

When Jesus first said those words, it cost him the support of the last group of people who had supported him. The ones that found these words most difficult were the disciples who loved him most. For these beloved disciples had become attached to him. They had kneeled at his feet, listening to his every word. They had spent three long years working for the day when Jesus would take his case to the capital city and show them all exactly what stuff he was made of. In the disciples' minds it was their time of vindication. This was the hour all of them had been waiting for.

When they left the fishing nets, when they had walked away from their families, when they had committed themselves to serving Jesus, almost everyone said they were crazy. But now that their company was drawing near to Jerusalem, they thought the time of victory was near. Jesus would enter the city as a conquering hero. And all at once everyone would see the wisdom of their decision in following Jesus.

The words of Jesus sound strange to our ears, as they did to the disciples so long ago. "Those who lose their life will keep it."