By Fr. Glenn Jones:

Well, we come to Easter this weekend (April 9)—THE biggest and most important celebration of the Christian faith and year. Those looking in from outside may think that Christmas is Christianity’s biggest celebration because of all the decoration, well-known songs, gift-giving, etc., and certainly the event that Christmas commemorates—the birth of Jesus—is an essential preliminary, but the whole and purpose of Jesus’ life leads to His resurrection on Easter morn and the affirmation of the eternal life that God has prepared for humanity.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah; you dreamer Christians and other religious nuts. Get real, and leave realists alone. Don’t you know that ‘God’ and ‘Heaven’ is just a ‘need for daddy to make everything right’ complex … just a means for the powerful to control the gullible?”

Certainly that increasingly seems to be the idea of the day as we read of dwindling numbers of Christian and religious believers. In fact, we see growing hostility to faith—the burning of churches, attacks on Christians, public destruction of Bibles (often by those who decry censorship, no less—unless its censorship of that which they don’t agree with).

Why such hostility and hatred, in particular toward Christians and Christianity? What is it about Jesus’ message of “love God, love your neighbor” that elicits such aggression and enmity?

Let us pause and consider a very memorable point in the passion and death drama of Jesus, entering the scene when Jesus and Pontius Pilate are before the crowd—the crowd’s fury whipped up by religious leaders envious of Jesus’ success and following, and calling for His crucifixion. Pilate, having heard Jesus being called “king of the Jews” (and, it seems, having insight to realize Jesus’ true kingly nature at his appeal for Jesus’ release), calls out, seemingly in appeal and Jesus’ defense: “Shall I crucify your king?” To which the crowd (appallingly) cries out: “We have no king but Caesar!” (John 19:15)

For those familiar with the Bible, the crowd’s rejection evokes memory of the Israelites’ infidelity at Mt. Horeb and their crafting of the golden calf to worship in defiance and rejection of God, and “the people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play…” (Exodus 32:6) Well, they weren’t playing hopscotch; the implication is that they gave themselves up to “anything goes” festival. Despite the miracles they had so recently witnessed and their very recent liberation from slavery, they still could not rise above the base and worldly and elevate their spirits to God.

Or, perhaps even more so, the crowd’s rejection of Jesus recalls the Israelites’ demand many centuries earlier for the prophet Samuel to anoint for them a king to suit their own likings in rejection of God’s kingship: “… now appoint for us a king to govern us like all the nations …” Hmmm … “like everyone else.” And God instructs Samuel: “Hearken to the voice of the people in all that they say to you; for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them … from the day I brought them up out of Egypt even to this day, forsaking me and serving other gods … you shall solemnly warn them, and show them the ways of the king who shall reign over them.” (1 Samuel 8:5-9) … much to their future misfortune—a classic case of “be careful of what you ask for.”

Well, what did that golden calf at Horeb represent? None other than the things treasured by the world: gold representing wealth and beauty, a calf for youth, a bull for strength, sexual vitality and unbridled promiscuity. And what did the pagan gods of old represent that Samuel’s people preferred? Much the same that we all know from high school examples, such as Zeus/Jupiter/Jove for power and promiscuity, Athena/Venus for beauty, Ares/Mars for war, strength and power, Dionysus/Bacchus for wine and revelry, Hermes/Mercury for athleticism, etc.

Jesus had taught—or, rather for the Jews, reinforced and expanded—the ways of self-giving rather than those of self-indulgence … of selflessness rather than selfishness. And, like the old wineskins filled with new wine He describes in His parable, they burst … they (especially the very comfortable, wealthy, influential and powerful religious leaders) couldn’t bear this new word and teaching He brought, despite the signs that established His bona fides. For, as Jesus predicted, “ … no one after drinking old wine desires new; for he says, ‘The old is good.’”. (Luke 5:39)

In proclaiming “no king but Caesar”, the crowd vehemently rejects Jesus and, therefore, the good; in fact, they call for the release of Barabbas the insurrectionist/murderer, preferring the evil, the old and established, that which was unchallenging … the worldly, even though it was Caesar’s empire which oppressed and ruled over them.

Lest the reader believes this theme applies only to Christians, can you not see how this pertains to the lives of all, regardless of faith? After all, what is that is truly treasured as the best of humanity; in fact, what do we even acclaim as the best of humanity? Is it self-seeking, covetousness, narcissism, churlishness, looking out for #1? Or, rather, is it not generosity, humility, kindness, graciousness, compassion, putting others before the self? And yet, even in recognizing this, the attraction is ever toward the former—toward that selfishness. The good person is always swimming upstream against the strong current of the animalistic within him, which is often reinforced by the values of the world. This is why the outsider must not judge Christianity by all Christians: their struggle is relentless as anyone’s in trying to walk a rockier and higher road … one on which all are sure to stumble.

And so, will we choose the good, or that which is less? Will we default to the baser nature within because it’s “easier”, or raise ourselves to that which seeks the better? Will we choose Caesar’s worldly chains over spiritual freedom, not realizing the truth of: “… whatever overcomes a man, to that he is enslaved …”? (2 Peter 2:19)

Easter comes in spring, a time of new life—when seeds burst forth into blossom, eggs burst for new life and song, cocoon break for beauty and flight toward Heaven. And the tomb breaks open to reveal new, beautiful and magnificent life which had lain sleeping within.

Editor’s note: Rev. Glenn Jones is the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe and former pastor of Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Los Alamos.