How does the good life feel?
On the first day of my freshman economics class, the professor said, “Hey, I’m not here to be your babysitter. Whether you come to class or not, I don’t care. Whether you turn in assignments or not, I don’t care. You can either have a cumulative grade, or you can take whatever you get on the final. It’s up to you.”
Foolish me, I determined that because I’d taken an economics class in high school, that was for college credit, that I was now a master in economics and didn’t need to go to class.
Long story short, I ended up getting a D on the final—and a D in the class.
When I got home, my dad reminded me of our deal: he would pay for a state school education, but if I got less than a B, I owed him tuition for that semester. And so began a long summer of working to pay him back. Why did I do it? Honestly, it was probably cockiness and arrogance. Even though my dad had warned me, I still chose to go my own way because I thought I knew better.
The reality of being human is that we all have not just the capacity, but a tendency, to go our own way—opposed to what God calls us to or what others who love us might want for us. Sometimes it’s out of arrogance, sometimes dysfunction, sometimes fear. There are all kinds of reasons, but it’s a real part of who we are.
As we journey through Lent, we’re identifying areas in our lives where repentance is needed—not as punishment, but as a path toward renewal. And as we move toward renewal, we prepare ourselves to celebrate the joy of new life in the resurrection.
Today we look at John 11, where Jesus does something incredible—He raises Lazarus from the dead. Lazarus is a close friend of Jesus, along with his sisters Martha and Mary. They send word to Jesus that Lazarus is sick and ask Him to come, but Jesus delays, and Lazarus dies.
When Jesus arrives, Martha goes out to meet Him and says, “If you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died.” Jesus asks if she believes her brother will live, and she says yes—someday, in the resurrection. But she wanted him to live now. Jesus responds, “I am the resurrection,” and tells her her brother will live.
Then Mary comes. She falls at Jesus’ feet and weeps. In this deeply human moment, Jesus is moved and begins to weep too. He asks to be shown where Lazarus has been laid. At the tomb, Jesus tells them to roll the stone away. Martha hesitates, warning that it’s been three days. But Jesus insists. Then He calls Lazarus out—and the miracle happens. Lazarus, who was dead, is now alive.
Many who witness this believe in Jesus. But others go to the Pharisees and report what happened. The religious leaders gather and panic. They fear that if Jesus continues, the Romans will come and destroy everything. So Caiaphas, the high priest, proposes a solution: it would be better for one man—Jesus—to die than for the whole nation to suffer. From that moment on, they begin plotting His death.
In this passage, we see people abandoning God’s way in favor of their own. And there are three things we should watch for in our own lives because we share that same tendency.
First, abandoning hope. The Pharisees and religious leaders stopped believing that God could do something new. They weren’t just feeling hopeless—they had decided there was no hope. But God calls us to be people of hope, believing that even in brokenness, He is faithful to bring life out of death and grace out of pain. So we have to ask ourselves: where are we tempted to give up hope? Where have we decided things will never change?
Second, taking matters into our own hands. The leaders see what Jesus is doing and decide they need to control the situation. In doing so, they become trapped by the present and forget the past. Yes, their fear of Rome wasn’t baseless—but they leave no room for God to act. And they ignore their own history, where God repeatedly showed up in impossible situations. For us, this is where prayer, Scripture, and wise counsel matter. They help us stay grounded, patient, and open to what God might be doing. So where are you trying to take control? And how might you slow down and seek God instead?
Lastly, compromise and justification. Caiaphas convinces himself that killing Jesus is justified for the greater good. And we do the same in subtler ways. We justify spending by calling it saving. We say, “Everyone else is doing it.” We let success outweigh character. In those moments, we’re saying the ends justify the means. That’s a warning sign that we’re drifting from God’s way.
We all have the capacity to go our own way—we know it’s true. But God calls us to be people of hope, faith, and love. To live lives marked by gentleness, peace, patience, and endurance. And to do that, we repent—not just to turn away from sin, but to turn toward renewal. We cling to the resurrection, watch for new life, and pursue virtue.
I hope this season of Lent has been meaningful for you. We’re looking forward to continuing the journey and celebrating Easter together. Have a great week.
