Survival or Salvation? John 19:1-16 - Fifth Sunday in Lent

If there’s anything that Disney movies have in common with the Old Testament, it’s this: most of their well-known characters kings and queens. Some are not royalty, but they’re still of the upper echelons of society.

Think about it: the biblical patriarchs and matriarchs were exceedingly wealthy and even had their own armies. You have the book of Judges. Kings Saul and David are the main characters of 1 and 2 Samuel. Then you have the books of 1 and 2 Kings, 1 and 2 Chronicles.

Image by Wolfgang_Hasselmann from Pixabay

It can be hard to relate people whose lives are vastly different from our own. On the other hand, these people are still human, and their power and wealth enable them to act on their worst impulses in ways simply unavailable to common people. Much of the time, they get away with it, though not always. But the poor, the vulnerable, and the innocent always suffer.

This brings us back, once again, to Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea.

He stands before an angry mob, led by the chief priests, that is demanding the crucifixion of Jesus. Pilate had total authority to set Jesus free, because he found no fault in him. Even though he knew that releasing Jesus was the right thing to do, he didn’t do it. He took the easy way out. He allows himself to be backed into a corner and used. And what did Pilate gain from this?

Was he afraid of the chief priests going around, accusing him of being “no friend of Caesar?” Did he not want the hassle of putting down a riot? Was this tit-for-tat with the chief priests?

Regardless of his reasons, Pilate chose self-preservation instead of justice.

That’s understandable. Self-preservation is your primal instinct to survive. Your brain is pre-wired to react to difficult situations the same way you’d react if you were standing in the path of a speeding train: you get out its way as quicky and as easily as you can. In such circumstances, that’s the right thing to do.

Your survival instincts are extremely self-centered, and that’s by design. This follows the logic of the airlines when they give instructions about the emergency oxygen masks: fit the mask to your own face before assisting others.

But if left unchecked, your survival instincts will override your moral compass.

The self-preservation mindset has no capacity for benevolence. It doesn’t care about truth or righteousness, fairness, or justice. It wants safety. It wants power and control. It wants comfort. It wants immediate gratification. Worse yet, your survival impulses will bypass your capacity to think critically, and the thing you do to survive the moment may not actually help you in the long run.

Arguments can be made that Pontius Pilate hadn’t done himself any favors in the long run with how he handled this situation.

That’s the problem with self-preservation: the easy way out of one problem may lead straight into another.

With the mighty Pontius Pilate, dressed in the finest of garments, with a palace as his home and the sword to wield at Rome’s behalf, standing next to Jesus, all chained up, bloodied and beaten, with a crown of thorns on his head and a ragged purple robe on his back, it’s easy to forget who the prisoner is. It’s easy to forget who will gain the ultimate victory.

As I said in my message last week, Pilate and the chief priests weren’t nearly as smart as they thought and had far less power than they realized. They may have survived Good Friday, but they will remain bound to a system that doesn’t care about right and wrong, valuing wealth and power above all things, even human life. Survival is the best you can hope for in such a system that devours people indiscriminately.

Whereas Pontius Pilate and the chief priests act out of self-preservation, in Jesus, we see the opposite. Jesus empties himself of all power and control. Instead of comfort, he accepts torture. Instead of survival, he accepts death. Instead of avoiding suffering, he embraces it. He does this for the sake of a promise he could only hold onto by faith: the promise that his death would bring glory to God, and that God would give him victory by raising him from the dead. This wasn’t survival. It was salvation. For everyone.

Faith doesn’t seek survival. Faith seeks God. Faith reaches beyond immediate needs and immediate rewards to eternal promises. It reaches beyond the peril of the moment to embrace hope for the future. It reaches beyond the primal impulses to seek wisdom and guidance. It reaches beyond the self to give life to the other.

Everything changes when you trust that you will always have God, and that God will always have you. Faith, rather than fear, will run your life. The trials, the struggles, the losses you face become sacred journeys of growth in Jesus. Life is no longer something to survive but a gift to be enjoyed and shared.

Live for survival today and you’ll do the same thing tomorrow. Live by faith and tomorrow will be a new day.

Evil men may take your property or your life, death may ravage and destroy your body, but to live in Christ is to die in Christ, and to die in Christ is to gain eternity. This not survival. This is salvation.