The Meaning of the Moment

The Meaning of the Moment
Photo by Mira Kireeva / Unsplash

John 18:28–38

Phrases that spoke to me today:
• everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice
• my kingdom does not belong to this world
• for this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth
• you say I am a king

Applying the Word to My Life:
Caiaphas, the High Priest, gave the game away when he told the Sanhedrin “it is better for you that one man should die for the people, not the whole nation should perish.” When you look at the facts, it seems clear the Passion is an institutional murder. A hit job by the people in power to remove a man who threatened their authority. Lacking the authority to do it themselves, they co-opt the Roman machinery to accomplish their plan.

We appear to have a clear and unambiguous murder. But the Church calls this a sacrifice. What am I missing?

It turns out, I miss more than I think I do—even in everyday events right in front of me. For example, there have been so many times in my life that I have been driving along only to be slowed down by a car that is barely driving the speed limit and hesitating at the intersections. I was typically the one right behind them thinking that someone who can’t drive well just shouldn’t be on the road.

Fast forward to today, and there’s a good chance I’m one of the people in the slow car. I’m teaching one of my boys to drive and sometimes we are a little slow and it takes him some time to think his way through an intersection. Now, when I encounter a slow car I wonder if they are in the same situation and I try to give a little more space for them to get it figured out.

The scene on the road may look the same from the outside, but intent and context can change the meaning of it completely. What once looked like incompetence or inconvenience may actually be patience, learning, and someone trying to help another person grow. The outward facts have not changed much, but the interior meaning has changed a lot.

That’s great on the road, but what is the shift that can make a murder into a sacrifice? John gives us the crucial window today. Standing in front of Pilate, this is the place where Jesus’ path to the Cross is fixed and the crucifixion becomes inevitable. The Pharisees are still intent on murder, Pilate is being dragged unwillingly into the plot, the crowd is in a frenzy—this cast of murderers and accomplices points squarely to murder. Jesus’ actions, however, take us in a different direction.

Rather than pleading His case or giving Pilate an easy “off ramp,” Jesus remains calm and willingly lets the proceedings move toward the sentence of crucifixion. This is where Jesus gives His final yes, accepting death on a cross.

Jesus is freely cooperating with the Father’s will, and this changes everything. He does not run. He does not grasp for escape. He does not turn the moment into self-protection. His human will is united to the Father’s, and that changes the meaning of the whole scene. What they mean as murder, He transforms into sacrifice.

And that means Jesus is not only the victim in this scene. He is also the High Priest. He is not simply being handed over by others. He is offering Himself. That is what makes this moment so much more than tragic violence. The evil of the people around Him remains evil. Pilate’s cowardice remains cowardice. The injustice remains real. But none of those things get to define the deepest meaning of what is happening. Because the Son gives the Father His yes here, death is no longer only something being done to Him. It becomes something He is offering in love and obedience.

And that matters for me because, in Christ, sacrifice is not limited to altars, vestments, and ordained ministry. There is a universal priesthood in the Christian life. We are all called to take the hard things we would never have chosen and place them into the Father’s hands. That does not mean pretending evil is good or pain does not hurt. It means that when my will is joined to the Father’s, even suffering can be given back to Him as an offering. What would otherwise remain only frustration, humiliation, loss, or burden can become sacrifice when it is united to love.

That is not easy. Most of the time, my first instinct is still self-protection. I want escape. I want control. I want the hard thing removed before it can cost me too much. But Christ shows me another way. The road does not become holy because it is painful. It becomes holy when, in the middle of what is painful, I choose to trust the Father rather than turn away. That is where the universal priesthood becomes real. Not in abstract ideas, but in the daily act of handing over my own will and saying yes when obedience is hard.

That means the real question for me is not only whether I believe Christ transformed His Passion into sacrifice. The question is whether I will let Him teach me to do the same with the burdens, humiliations, losses, and hard obediences in my own life. I cannot redeem the world the way He does. But I can join my will to the Father in the middle of what I suffer, and in Christ that means the hard thing does not have to remain meaningless.

The path looks the same either way. I get to choose whether the journey becomes sacrifice or remains only suffering.

My Response for Today:
Today, I will take one hard thing I would rather resist and consciously place it into the Father’s hands.