The Temptation of Self-Preservation

Caiaphas, Kierkegaard, and cowardice

How often do we make decisions that look wise and prudent, but are actually just sinfully and fearfully self-preservatory?

The Jewish Leaders and Jesus

Toward the end of last year I was finishing up my annual Bible reading plan in the Gospel of John. Close to the end of John 11 we are given a peek into how Jewish leaders began to pursue a plot to kill Jesus. Here’s John 11:45-57 with some key parts bolded by me:

Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what he did, believed in him, but some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done. So the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered the council and said, “What are we to do? For this man performs many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.” But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing at all. Nor do you understand that it is better for you that one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish.” He did not say this of his own accord, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but also to gather into one the children of God who are scattered abroad. So from that day on they made plans to put him to death.

Jesus therefore no longer walked openly among the Jews, but went from there to the region near the wilderness, to a town called Ephraim, and there he stayed with the disciples.

Now the Passover of the Jews was at hand, and many went up from the country to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves. They were looking for Jesus and saying to one another as they stood in the temple, “What do you think? That he will not come to the feast at all?” Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had given orders that if anyone knew where he was, he should let them know, so that they might arrest him.

Here we see the Jewish leaders talking among themselves and considering the consequences of Jesus’ actions. Their greatest fear is that Jesus and his ministry could generate such a wild fervor for the promised messiah that the full force of the Roman government could come crashing down on Jerusalem and maybe even “take away our place,” likely referring to the temple.

The Jewish leaders had the presence of God in their midst and they needed to squelch him so that they could maintain their country and their place of worship.

They thought they were choosing a path of righteous prudence when, in fact, they chose a path of sinful cowardice.

Then, in a fascinating display of double meaning, Caiaphas the high priest says that it is better for one man to die in preservation of “the people” than for the whole nation to perish—basically supporting the previous reasoning that killing Jesus to preserve the temple and nation of Israel would be better than the alternative. God used Caiaphas to prophesy the salvation brought by Jesus, but that wasn’t what Caiaphas had in mind when he spoke.

Don Carson writes in his commentary on John:

And so he died—but the nation perished anyway, not because of Jesus’ activity but because of the constant mad search for political solutions where there was little spiritual renewal. Justice is sacrificed to expediency.

The Jewish leaders plotted to use Jesus as a sacrificial lamb not for the sins of the world, but for the preservation of the Jewish nation, the Jewish people, and their prized house of worship.

They chose a path that was disguised as prudence and wisdom, but was actually prideful self-preservation pursued in a spirit of fear.

In the end, their attempts at self-preservation actually precipitated their downfall.

We may often fail in the same way. However, I think that one of the more common ways we give into the temptation of self-preservation has less to do with prideful action and more to do with fearful inaction.

Cowardice and Indecision

It is perhaps a bit dangerous to say, but the older I get the more I find myself resounding with the wisdom of Søren Kierkegaard. (I just ignore some of his foolishness.)

One of my favorite bits of Kierkegaard, which I’ve referenced in this newsletter before, comes from “Dare to Decide” at the beginning of Provocations. Kierkegaard writes:

Cowardice settles deep in our souls like the idle mists on stagnant waters. From it arise unhealthy vapors and deceiving phantoms. The thing that cowards fear most is decision; for decision always scatters the mists, at least for a moment. Cowardice thus hides behind the thought it likes best of all: the crutch of time. Cowardice and time always find a reason for not hurrying, for saying, “Not today, but tomorrow,” whereas God in heaven and the eternal say: “Do it today. Now is the day of salvation.”

….

One who wants to build a tower sits down and makes an estimate as to how high he can build it. But if no decision is ever made then no tower is ever built. A good decision is our will to do everything we can within our power. It means to serve God with all we’ve got, be it little or much. Every person can do that.

In the end, failure to decide prevents one from doing what is good.

I think that we often fail to decide because we’re afraid of what will happen if we fail. We are more content failing through inaction than we are by action. Because, at least it seems, if we fail by way of inaction we can blame external factors for our demise instead of actions we took in a valiant attempt that did not lead to success.

If we fail by inaction, we can claim a sort of “victimhood” status, which feels more palatable than if we fail by our own action, which leads to feeling guilty for our own downfall.

It often feels better to comfortably ride along toward the edge of a cliff than it does to grab hold of the steering wheel and attempt to get on the right track.

This is cowardice. This is sinful self-preservation, or at least an attempt at it.

Kierkegaard continues writing about the faithfulness that comes with decision-making:

This much is certain: the greatest thing each person can do is give himself to God utterly and unconditionally—weaknesses, fears, and all. For God loves obedience more than good intentions or second-best offerings, which are all too often made under the guise of weakness.

The psalmist writes in Psalm 62:8:

Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us. Selah

Too often we are afraid to pour out our hearts before God because it leaves us in a vulnerable state. “If I pour myself out,” we fear, “there won’t be anything left of myself.”

Exactly!

To pour ourselves out before the throne of God requires a radical lack of interest in self-preservation and an ultimate desire to loose our grip on ourselves for the glory of God and the good of others.

It requires a decision.

Faithfulness demands we resist the temptation to preserve ourselves at the cost of deciding to pour ourselves out before God, holding nothing back, embracing the vulnerability of true faith.