I am reflecting on the passage in John 12 that precedes the Triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem before Passover. The passage is fascinating and easily the darkest of the Palm Sunday passages that are present in all four gospels.
If we break down the passage from verses 9-19 in John 12, there are three main actors in this event, all with different motives. However, I would like to examine the role of religious leaders more closely in this scene. Think about how far they had fallen from their role as servants of God and religious leaders in Jewish society. John 12:9-11 states:
9 When the large crowd of the Jews learned that Jesus was there, they came, not only on account of him but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 10 So the chief priests made plans to put Lazarus to death as well, 11 because on account of him many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus.
It's not that these guys were just confused and selfish because Jesus was gaining the crowd's approval, but it's much worse than that. They had fallen so far off the mark that they were planning to put both Jesus and Lazarus to death in the name of preserving their religion. Let this sink in for a moment. As religious leaders who know Torah better than the back of their hands, they are planning to murder two people.
How does this happen? Lazarus had done nothing to deserve death--Lazarus didn’t ask Jesus to bring him back to life, after all. But with Lazarus alive, it made crowd control a much larger issue.
Sin is a slippery slope. They didn’t start out as murderers. They likely began as eager students, zealous for the law. But over time, they began the incremental slide that slowly replaced their zeal for the law with the zeal for their honor and prestige. They rationalize their behavior by acknowledging the good that will come of it. ‘If we don’t stop Jesus, he will make our relationship with Rome even more difficult!’ ‘Jesus is leading people astray and he is using Lazarus to help him.’ ‘God, of course, would agree with us. We are upholding His honor.’ ‘Killing them both is the only reasonable way forward. This is what God would have us do.’
History has many examples of those who rationalized evil while becoming complicit with evil itself. Many German Christians supported the Nazis explicitly. They accepted Hitler as a divinely appointed leader and sought to redefine Christianity to exclude Jewish heritage. German Christian Leaders stated:
“We are full of thanks to God that He, as Lord of History, has given us Adolf Hitler, our leader and savior from our difficult lot. We acknowledge that we, with body and soul, are bound and dedicated to the German state and to its Führer. This bondage and duty contains for us, as evangelical Christians, its deepest and most holy significance.”[1]
The slope was slippery.
But most German Christians were silent, indifferent, or passively complicit regarding the persecution of Jews. Historical analyses suggest widespread apathy and conformity motivated by fear, nationalism, and longstanding antisemitism. Victoria Barnett writes that,
“Most Christians in Germany were indifferent to the fate of Jews... While some individuals acted heroically, the institutional churches failed to mount a concerted opposition to Nazi policies.”[2]
Dietrich Bonhoeffer was one of those who explicitly confronted the persecution of Jews, calling the church to active resistance. He stated, "Only he who cries out for the Jews may sing Gregorian chants."[3] And Martin Niemöller, initially a supporter of some Nazi policies, eventually became a vocal opponent and suffered imprisonment. After the war, he famously reflected:
“First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”[4]
In many ways, the story of Apartheid in South Africa mirrored the racism of the Third Reich.
A significant segment of the Dutch Reformed Church (NGK, Nederduitse Gereformeerde Kerk) openly provided theological justification for Apartheid. The NGK's teachings on racial separation strongly influenced government policy, offering a theological defense of racial segregation based on biblical interpretation, notably referencing passages such as Genesis 11 (Tower of Babel) and Acts 17:26.
They provided a weak and unbiblical theological interpretation to justify racism:
"We believe that God has created peoples and nations, and that He gave each nation its identity... We believe that the diversity of people and races is not coincidental but intended by God."[5]
“Apartheid policy is in accordance with the will of God... scripture teaches the separation of races.”[6]
The NGK thus played a key role in legitimizing and embedding racial segregation into the policy framework of South Africa. Several denominations—both white and multiracial—were largely silent or indirectly supportive, prioritizing order or spiritual ministry over justice. These churches often justified their neutrality by claiming spiritual neutrality or asserting that the church should stay out of politics. John De Gruchy notes:
“Many white English-speaking churches, while theoretically critical of apartheid, rarely moved beyond occasional verbal protests and preferred a politically neutral stance.”[7]
This passivity effectively reinforced Apartheid, allowing racial injustice to persist unchallenged.
But despite widespread complicity, some churches boldly opposed Apartheid:
“The Apartheid system has been characterized by injustice, oppression, exploitation, and violence. The Church cannot avoid making a judgment against this system.”[8]
People like Desmond Tutu, Peter Storey and others played an influential role within the South African Council of Churches (SACC) which became crucial in mobilizing global Christian opposition to Apartheid.
Historian Allan Boesak, himself a theologian involved in anti-Apartheid activism, provides a succinct analysis:
“The Christian churches in South Africa played a paradoxical role: while some provided theological legitimation for apartheid and structural racism, others became powerful centers of resistance and advocacy for justice.”[9]
But the failure to grasp a truly biblical theology by much of the Church meant that the horrors of Apartheid held sway until social pressure finally toppled the unjust system. Theologian John De Gruchy recognizes this sad assessment:
“Apartheid could not have survived without the theological justification provided by sections of the church... Theologically conservative Afrikaner churches bear particular historical responsibility for this moral tragedy.”[10]
Somehow, contrary to the clear teachings of Scripture, South African theologians lost their way and exchanged the truth of the gospel for the falsehoods of white privilege and racism. German Christians did the same. It remains a slippery slope.
This rationalization of the slippery slope is where large sections of the US church find themselves, which is the subject for next time.
[1] Declaration from German Christian leaders, cited in Doris L. Bergen, Twisted Cross: The German Christian Movement in the Third Reich, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1996, p. 63.
[2] Victoria Barnett, For the Soul of the People: Protestant Protest Against Hitler, Oxford University Press, 1998: 9.
[3] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in Eberhard Bethge, Dietrich Bonhoeffer: A Biography, revised edition, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000, p. 278.
[4] Martin Niemöller, quoted in Victoria Barnett, Bystanders: Conscience and Complicity During the Holocaust, Praeger Publishers, 1999, p. vii.
[5] Dutch Reformed Church General Synod Statement, 1974, cited in John W. De Gruchy, The Church Struggle in South Africa, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005, p. 67.
[6] Cited in T.R.H. Davenport & Christopher Saunders, South Africa: A Modern History, 5th ed., Palgrave Macmillan, 2000, p. 378.
[7] John W. De Gruchy, Reconciliation: Restoring Justice, SCM Press, 2002, p. 37.
[8] “Kairos Document,” 1985, cited in Allan Boesak, Kairos, Crisis, and Global Apartheid, Palgrave Macmillan, 2015, pp. 4-5.
[9] Allan Boesak, Running with Horses: Reflections of an Accidental Politician, Joho Publishers, 2009, p. 72.
[10] John W. De Gruchy, The Church Struggle in South Africa, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005, p. 221.
Thank you so much for your clear thinking about the responsibility of the church and how history can teach us if we are not overwhelmed by apathy.
Lovely hearing your voice- pity it’s in print and not here with us.