Living In The Loopholes
In reading again how the Jewish leadership arrested and tried Jesus, there was a portion that made me defensive. After all the mental and legal jiu jitsu they pulled to justify their case against Jesus, they next brought Jesus to Pilate for Roman permission to execute him. “By now it was early morning, and to avoid ceremonial uncleanness they did not enter the palace, because they wanted to be able to eat the Passover.” John 18:28
After everything they had done and would do without hesitation, a second thought, or hint of remorse, being able to join in on the party was their priority.
JR, my Spiritual Director, has been guiding me through the feelings and conversations that happen the next day after the party that was thrown for the prodigal. I have this need in me to perform, to earn and justify worth from outside of me - Always asking and inviting the answer to “Am I good enough now?”. Coming back home after living out my own lies, desires, and bullshit in spite of the consequences others had to pay because of my anger and shame, now being welcomed and celebrated for being home, dishes need to be done, the home cleaned. There are glances and there is silence. THIS is where my shame floors the pedal and the wheels spin out.
Now, I start to do so that I can justify. I’ll get that. I’ll put that away. I can clean that up. See, I was worth the party. I’m worth being celebrated. Check out my performance. I fake remorse and go out of my way to be helpful, but in reality what I feel is relief from not needing to perform. But then I feel guilty about what I’ve done at the expense of those that love me and the shame starts driving me to perform.
It’s the performing for a love I want that keeps perpetuating the shame of not being good enough for the love I already have.
This is where I find myself just like those leaders - an expert at living in the loopholes I’ve fabricated. Rules, not obedience. Opinions, not the Word. Am I, not I AM. Grinding, not remaining.
I can’t help but imagine that those leaders threw themselves a party that day while a few were mourning. Hand shakes, pats on the back, breaking bread, thanks to God, anticipation of the future they’ve been plotting for. Perhaps the scene that was made of executing Jesus ruined the Passover celebration for more than just Jesus’ close friends. Maybe it left an impression in some families that this is the last time they make the journey to Jerusalem for Passover. I’ve thrown parties on the graves of those who hurt me. I’ve hoped they would feel what I felt. I’ve stayed quiet, shown love, spoke kindness and life while my heart said fuck you. I have also been wrong in my rightness.
May we find relief from the performance. May we allow ourselves to be known. May we find enoughness in what’s already been given.
Need a companion as you head back to the last place you felt rest? Maybe someone to listen as you process the next move? Let’s get started.
