Self Knowledge

Text: Luke 13:31-35

It must be a freeing, empowering feeling to be absolutely certain of who one is and what one must do--even if what one must do is extraordinarily dangerous. We once grew up hearing tales of such people, some of which tales had some elements of truth liberally seasoned with legend and folklore. Think, for example, Kuster's Last Stand or the Alamo. Even knowing some of the heroic stories we've been told are embellished versions, we admire the traits which are the reason for the telling. Bravery, confidence, self-sacrifice for a greater good.

What makes the picture of Jesus on the way to Jerusalem so compelling is the certainty he held regarding both the necessity and the outcome of this final journey to the Holy City. He held these in spite of what anyone else would think, say, or do. He was told of Herod's designs, even if the telling was less than compassionately motivated; he knew the history of people so like the ones addressing him at the moment; he knew from direct personal encounters over the course of ministry how stubbornly and self-destructively the neediest of souls resisted the God who longed to embrace them for their healing and wholeness.

In pondering this, it is all too easy to take up his cause and condemn the rascals for him; they deserve it. But before setting off on that road, we should pause to reflect on something else that Jesus knew. He knew what those who would follow later, even today, would be like. Not just the enemies; but his own as well. Just as nothing in the original scene deterred him from his appointment on Calvary, neither did the knowledge of your and my resistance, our preference to live just at the edge of his wingspan, rather than securely within it. And that we as much as the people of his day were lost unless he completed that trip. What grace, mercy, and love we only partially accept.