Jesus the Divider

Matthew 10

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace but a sword.

For I have come to set a man against his father,
and a daughter against her mother,
and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law,
and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.”

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”  (Matthew 10)

My parents have gone crazy! Utterly crazy! I do not understand them, and I truly fear for them. Yes, what they have done has frightened me, not just for them, but also for my brothers and sisters. And most of all, what they have done has placed a very dark cloud over my future.

Who am I? I am Joseph, the firstborn son of my parents, the son who will inherit, the son who will, someday, be the head of my family. I’ve been preparing for that day ever since my thirteenth birthday, several years ago, when, in the eyes of my faith, I became a man. And I have received many blessings, both from grandparents, aunts, uncles, and even from family friends.

We have always been a respected family in our small village, with a heritage going back many generations. And I have worked hard to continue earning that respect.

But this man, Jesus of Nazareth! This man has changed everything! He has turned everything upside down, literally destroying longstanding relationships, and wiping out the respect my family has enjoyed among our friends and relatives.

What did he do? What, exactly did Jesus do? And how? How could he come to our village and, in a matter of just a few days, pry the faith of my parents, a faith that goes back centuries, pry their faith away from what we have always held dear? How could he do that?

I can’t explain it.  All that I can say is that my parents have become followers of this man, Jesus of Nazareth. They claim that he is a prophet, and that he may even be the long-awaited Messiah! Seriously?

Orthodox image, Kosovo, 14th century

Well, Jesus certainly doesn’t look like a Messiah to me. I mean, he’s ordinary, not appearing as a leader or as someone special in any way that I can see. I must admit that he speaks well, and he has healed some very sick people, but our local rabbi says that he is careless with the law. Yes, he violates it, and he associates with people who have been excluded by the law, people like tax collectors and prostitutes and other sinners.

Honestly, I don’t understand what my parents see in Jesus. They claim that following Jesus doesn’t deny their allegiance to our YHWH God, and that they can still be faithful Jews. But our rabbi says otherwise, and that they risk being thrown out of our synagogue. You must understand that if that happened, our family would be considered outcasts in our own village, excluded from practically everything. And let me emphasize that the village’s rejection would go beyond our parents, all the way to their children, including me.

I do admit that my parents did not wish to bring this upon us. They have said as much. And they also have told my brothers and sisters and me that they do not expect us to follow Jesus unless we choose to do so ourselves.

My younger siblings look to me as the eldest, to guide them in their own response, and to speak for our generation. We’ve already been subjected to questions from our friends, asking what is going on in our family. How can I answer them?

I fear that we will lose many, if not all of our friends, and even some of our cousins are wondering about us.

Our grandparents are still living, not far away. Perhaps I should go to them for guidance. I wonder what they would say? I wonder if they even know. If they do know, they must be shocked beyond belief.

I suppose that I owe it to my parents to listen to them, to try to understand. I can’t help but notice how excited they are. They act like they’ve found a buried treasure. It’s all that they can talk about. In a way, they seem happier than I’ve ever seen before, almost like they have gone back in time to their childhood. Yes, they are like children now, innocently happy with no regard to the consequences of their actions.

Oh, and they’re not alone. There are others, some who are friends of my parents, who have also chosen to follow Jesus. Mostly, though, his followers are among the disreputable folks in our village, those we mostly ignore.

All of that makes me curious. It leads me to wonder what power does this man Jesus have, not only to heal the sick, but also to inspire my parents to follow him, even at the risk of losing so much respect in our village. I am certain that it would be impossible for me to talk them out of this. They seem so certain, and their certainty makes me even more curious.

Yes, I am curious. Perhaps I need to take a closer look.

My parents love me, I am sure of that. But I have to wonder if they have understood the cost, the price that they will pay if they keep following Jesus. And I wonder if they understand the price that, by extension, I will pay, the disgrace that I will be subjected to, in the eyes of our village. Jesus, it seems, is dividing us in a way that I never thought possible.

Their commitment is unbreakable. And they say that they are prepared for any outcome. I hope that they know what they are doing. This Jesus seems to have such a hold on them!

Yes, perhaps I need to take a closer look, not to attempt to talk them out of this, but to see for myself. I need to understand the attraction, the power that this man, Jesus, seems to have.

He certainly looks powerless to me. But maybe he possesses a hidden power, something deeper than what can be seen on the outside. Perhaps his power comes from within, not from a visible strength.

I’ve asked my parents that very question: what is the power of Jesus, and where does it come from? I have asked them, over and over and I always get the same answer.

All that they will say is that the power of Jesus, this ordinary-looking man who has such a grip on them, all that they will say is that his power is the power of love. Love! And not just any love. No, the power of Jesus, they say, is a love so deep and so high and so wide that it covers all of God’s children, even me.

And when they say that, that the power of Jesus is the very love of God, that makes me wonder even more. Maybe, after all, that power, the power of God’s love, is something that down deep, I want too.