Jesus was clear, painfully clear, I’m sure, that only a few of the religious leaders sitting on top of the social, religious, financial, heap called The Holy City would give him the time of the day.
The rest would be happy to see him go away, and if not going away voluntarily, they’d be more than happy to help him on his way.
Jesus didn’t spend a lot of time trying to convince the inconvincible.
He understood the human tragedy, that power and wealth are more than enough to undo the soul and create monstrous ideas and behavior.
Some can resist the allure of wealth and the power it bestows, but most succumb, in one degree or another. Some maintain a balance, but a lot of folks dive into the money bin like old Scrooge McDuck.
Jesus addresses the question of wealth multiple times, not so much to convince the Oligarchy, but to trouble them, disturb, distress, and discomfort them, compelling them to do their worst, to reveal to them, maybe, and to reveal most certainly to the world, their naked villainy (thaniks to Shakespeare for the phrase) and rapacious ways.
Jesus knew the likely course of events, and remained true to God’s calling, to be faithful, to be truthful, and, as needed, to put his life on the line, which, in the end, he had to do.
It was die, or lie.
Satan was hoping that Jesus would choose the lie, but much to Satan’s disappointment, Jesus chose instead to die. Believing, hoping, wondering, if his death would finally mean something. But whatever it might or might not mean, Jesus turned from the lie offered so eloquently and so richly adorned, to die between two thieves, two more men deemed “useless” and “dangerous” by the ruling elite, who washed their hands of the whole thing, because they had better things to do.
So, Jesus spent most of his time with the disciples, in whom he had great hopes … maybe.
And time, too, with those deemed by the Oligarchy as worthless, dangerous, sinful; the down-and-out who deserved their sad lot in life, for whatever reasons the rich and the powerful so decided.
The rich and the powerful always need folks on the bottom so that the rich and the powerful might congratulate themselves on their own faith, their moral character, their god, their energy and their abilities, while dropping a few coins into the charity box, making them feel even more superior, and even more wonderful.
Jesus spent his time with those who had a chance to be real.
Jesus sought the lost.
Healed the broken.
Lifted up the downtrodden.
Gave hope to the desolate.
Walked with the lonely.
Visited the stranger.
Crossed boundaries.
Went fishing.
Made breakfast on the beach.
Gave life to the dead.
And light to all the darkened corners.
He spent his time where there was hope for a better day.
With people who were eager to hear his message, even though they most likely didn’t understand much of it, but they knew that he was tweaking the noses of the proud and the pompous, and the crowds loved him for that … and also the food and the fellowship … and even their own ill-formed hopes of some kind of a Messiah, who might just help them throw off the chains of Rome, chains forged by violent leaders and a brutal military police, aided and abetted by the Jerusalem elite who were more than happy to see their own people suffer even as they enjoyed their resorts and golf courses.
All right, they didn’t play golf.
But they would’ve if they could’ve.
