The Trouble with Jesus
by Constance Hastings
A Losing Life
December 17, 2019
Love God, Love Losers
How Not to Change the World would be a good title for Jesus’ autobiography. Or maybe, How to Take Good Ideas and Get Killed for It. Or, Love God, Love Losers. If Jesus came to change the world, he was his own worst enemy as he went about it. Common sense just wasn’t his forte.
Leaders with idealistic platforms are wonderful to read about, but everyone knows that doesn’t get votes. Practical policies that work the system to everyone’s benefit make the better headline. But no, he castigated those who could have helped him and buddied up with those of questionable repute. You’d think if he really wanted to change the world, he’d garner influence from those who ran things. It seemed not to be in his DNA.
What’s worse, he elevated the lowest of the low as the preeminent example of the character of faith. In short, he liked kids more than they were worth. Now, children ministries love to tell stories of how Jesus welcomed children. So sweet, wasn’t he? Bless these little ones. To be fair, it was genuine, but it’s used too much as a photo-op. Once again, The Son of God played for an impact that was beyond the surface.
Children in the first century were not always valued. In their early years, they required considerable care that had little return, for the death rate among the young was high. Why have emotional investment in those who could very well die before they could work and be profitable? Children were the least among the lesser ones of status. They could not speak, work, or carry any influence to further the cause. Beyond that, the Jews knew pagan cults were not beyond stealing children for slavery or sexual molestation, even child-sacrifice. Surviving childhood was almost a miracle. Don’t wrap your life around them.
It’s almost silly how one day his followers were arguing who would be the greatest in heaven. These guys were losers from the start, and now they pictured themselves in some kind of celestial hierarchy. Just goes to show what a crowd around your leader can do for you. But Jesus calls a child to his side, saying, “Anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf welcomes me…Whoever is the least among you is the greatest.” (Luke 9:46-48) Huh? These whining brats? Dear Lord, what are you getting at?
Yep, he chose losers, and were they ever a drag around his neck. A simple lesson that had to be repeated. Another time, parents were turned away when they tried to bring their kids near so Jesus could touch and bless them. His followers only saw that as a bother. Jesus noticed and wouldn’t have it. Hear the frustrated, measured anger in his voice: “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Anyone who doesn’t have their kind of faith will never get into the Kingdom of God.” (Luke 18:16-17) Slammed again!
Losers were a drag around his neck all the time. Even so, you can tell he loved them by how he often called his followers. “Dear children, it is very hard to enter the Kingdom of Heaven…” (Mark 10:24) “Put your trust in the light while there is still time; then you will become children of the light.” (John 12:36) “Dear children, I will be with you only a little longer. (John 13:33) “God blesses those who work for peace, for they will be called the children of God.” (Matthew 5:9) “In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:45) He spoke and taught losers as children, and he loved them.
Jesus called children unto himself knowing they innately have the most simple, unadulterated trust which love requires as its basis. In effect, he loved then the unlovable. With another reversal that slams into the center of social and cultural values, he demonstrated that all persons who would be loved by God have that which makes them unlovable and certainly are not generally thought to be among the greatest.
But to be loved by this Son of God, one must become counted among the child-like losers.
Could it be faith is not a fully convinced, blindly confident mindset? What if faith isn’t walking around 100% sure all the time? Could it be real faith actually needs a little doubt in the mix, like “maybe not” sitting right next to the “maybe so”? What if faith and doubt aren’t enemies but two sides of the same coin?
How do you get out of bed in the morning when the day, the world is still shrouded in darkness?... How are you supposed to stand up when grief, anger, and anxious fear are sitting heavy in your soul? Why even open your eyes when all you see just slices pain through whatever little faith you got left?
If you hadn’t heard about Jesus before, this week you couldn’t dodge his name if you tried. Before Jesus even hit the city limits, people were lining the road like it was some VIP red carpet...Too bad he wasn’t there to play the part they wanted.
Letting someone get close like this? That’s terrifying. I’d rather tuck away all the parts that people could ridicule, the stuff that makes people look at you sideways. I’d never want someone seeing all that mess who’s way better than me, cleaner than me, holier than me. Why does God have to come so close?
Man, this is why you never you never really blew up. Rolling into town on a donkey like you’re headlining a circus? Your haters must’ve been clowning you nonstop. Don Quixote probably looked at you and said, “Yeah, that’s the vibe.”
Jesus had power, no doubt. While his healing powers convinced some he was the Son of God, Jesus’ power also created, even in his best of friends, wild expectations. Belief like you should have God on speed dial and life was supposed to go smooth, no drama, no pain. "With God in my pocket, I should get all I want."
On the surface, it’s the same formula every time: somebody sick, disciples saying something inane, Pharisees mad because it’s the Sabbath again, Jesus heals anyway. Boom — another believer. It’s like a Miracle Hallmark Channel. Same plot, different day, but hey, it sells. Why complicate the story...
The Trouble with Jesus: His conversations don’t stay on the surface, sometimes pulling you deeper than you want to go. He drags you into the deep end before you even realize you’re swimming.
Maybe it was just the way Jesus said it. Maybe if he had said that you gotta change your life and priorities without losing yourself, it’d make more sense. Maybe if he had said you find God by keeping the commandments, attending the festivals, and making the sacrifices, it’d be easier to swallow...
All heroes have an antagonist, one who pushes hard against the best parts of who you are and what your purpose is. Fitting then, God’s beloved Son would meet the total antithesis of who he was before he even got out of that hot place, a kind of hell. Not surprisingly, the great tempter appears.
Could it be faith is not a fully convinced, blindly confident mindset? What if faith isn’t walking around 100% sure all the time? Could it be real faith actually needs a little doubt in the mix, like “maybe not” sitting right next to the “maybe so”? What if faith and doubt aren’t enemies but two sides of the same coin?
How do you get out of bed in the morning when the day, the world is still shrouded in darkness?... How are you supposed to stand up when grief, anger, and anxious fear are sitting heavy in your soul? Why even open your eyes when all you see just slices pain through whatever little faith you got left?
If you hadn’t heard about Jesus before, this week you couldn’t dodge his name if you tried. Before Jesus even hit the city limits, people were lining the road like it was some VIP red carpet...Too bad he wasn’t there to play the part they wanted.
Letting someone get close like this? That’s terrifying. I’d rather tuck away all the parts that people could ridicule, the stuff that makes people look at you sideways. I’d never want someone seeing all that mess who’s way better than me, cleaner than me, holier than me. Why does God have to come so close?
Man, this is why you never you never really blew up. Rolling into town on a donkey like you’re headlining a circus? Your haters must’ve been clowning you nonstop. Don Quixote probably looked at you and said, “Yeah, that’s the vibe.”
Jesus had power, no doubt. While his healing powers convinced some he was the Son of God, Jesus’ power also created, even in his best of friends, wild expectations. Belief like you should have God on speed dial and life was supposed to go smooth, no drama, no pain. "With God in my pocket, I should get all I want."
On the surface, it’s the same formula every time: somebody sick, disciples saying something inane, Pharisees mad because it’s the Sabbath again, Jesus heals anyway. Boom — another believer. It’s like a Miracle Hallmark Channel. Same plot, different day, but hey, it sells. Why complicate the story...
The Trouble with Jesus: His conversations don’t stay on the surface, sometimes pulling you deeper than you want to go. He drags you into the deep end before you even realize you’re swimming.
Maybe it was just the way Jesus said it. Maybe if he had said that you gotta change your life and priorities without losing yourself, it’d make more sense. Maybe if he had said you find God by keeping the commandments, attending the festivals, and making the sacrifices, it’d be easier to swallow...
All heroes have an antagonist, one who pushes hard against the best parts of who you are and what your purpose is. Fitting then, God’s beloved Son would meet the total antithesis of who he was before he even got out of that hot place, a kind of hell. Not surprisingly, the great tempter appears.
