Jitterbugging for Jesus

In yesterday’s Lenten piece I cited the passage from Mark 10 where people were taking their little ones to Jesus. (See here if you missed it.)

Today I want to underscore something from verses 13 and 14 in that same chapter:

People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them.

When Jesus saw this, he was indignant.

Jesus was indignant.

Jesus was mad.

Jesus was pissed.

If a disciple or any witness to his outburst was offended, he was plenty welcome to leave, to go follow one of the false prophets and wolves in sheep’s clothing who were around. They were everywhere in those days — as they are now and will be.

Jesus never lost one minute’s sleep worrying about whether anybody liked him. It was not his purpose in life to be Mr. Popular to all people at all times.

Nor is it any Christian’s purpose in life to go along to get along while the Caesars and the Pharisees — who come along in every generation and will to the end — stand on mountaintops of lies, maintaining order through fear, intimidation, condemnation, killing and greed.

I’ve often said that Jesus was not some happy-face swami who holed up in a cave. He didn’t put out the word through his devotees that all comers were welcome to come hear him hold forth with teachings about how to be gentle and peaceful and nice to one’s self as well as others.

“And the truth shall set you free.”

Jesus would have no truck with the happy-Jesus preachers like Joel Olsteen or fools like Jerry Falwell III — or, for that matter, those like the joyless, hyper-judgmental Franklin Graham.

Nor would Jesus go along to get along with whatever Caesar was passing through for a blip of time in the White House. (No less a Christian leader than Billy Graham learned just how seductive and corruptive American Caesars with all their power can be. Nixon completely snookered him and brought out the worst in him.)

Jesus took to the dirty, dusty streets and touched the untouchables. He entered the polished synagogues where the leaders who were about power and control kept the icky, nasty, dirty, sick, homeless and mentally ill people down.

It can’t be said enough that our Lord challenged the powers-that-be with righteous indignation at every turn. He did so with the divisive sword of truth, the only sword the aggressive pacifist ever wielded.

From the creator of Peanuts.

He wasn’t even all that nice to his own devotees and his own family, for God’s sake. He once declined to go outside a door and greet his own mom and brother, who from all that they’d heard about him, thought he he’d lost his ever-loving mind!

Yet simultaneously, he was overflowing with love at all times. He loved his disciples even when they pissed him off as much as any 10 Pharisees and Caesar ever did.

Jesus was overflowing with love in spite of his angry side.

Just as I’ve written often about Jesus not being a swami sitting on a bed of flowers, I’ve often written about how I try — and all too often fail or forget — to monitor how I’m relating to people during a day. That is, how I’m relating to others in terms of what Paul called “the fruits of the spirit” in Galations 5:22-23.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.”

I try to monitor myself often to check on how I’m doing in terms of love, joy, peace and all the rest.

I’m nothing if not passionately opinionated. But if I feel I’m being terrible in calling B.S. on something or somebody, I’ll try to catch myself and take a deep breath, swallow my pride, and apologize — or at least tone down my indignation.

But note that Paul didn’t cite any kind of 13th fruit suggesting that being nice at all times and in all circumstances is part of discipleship.

To the contrary, Paul could wax every bit as indignant as our Lord. One only has to read the entire short book of Galatians to see how not nice he was to the Galatians — this after greeting them with blessings of grace and peace! And he did end his epistle on a graceful note as well.

Read the whole, wonderful letter to the misguided Galatians here.

Speaking God’s truth to power — even speaking truth to one another in a forceful, indignant way — is vital in a time when we’re deluged by the minute and hour with brazen lies, half-truths and misrepresentations. Not not only from political leaders, but from religious leaders who’ve sold their souls to an American leader who surely makes God weep with his determined lack of repentance for his sins or regard for the people he steamrolls with his hard words and actions.

One of the great works of the genius John Donne, known for such lines and poems as “Death, be not proud,” was his Satire III, which you can read in full here*.

Donne’s satirical poem manages to warn those who fail to see the importance of spiritual truth, and cites the need to follow one’s conscience at all cost.

And discipleship does come with heavy costs.

In these particular lines about the need to “be busy” to seek the truth, Donne warns us to seek God and God’s truth and Christ’s ways now, without delay.

This because it’s later than we think.

. . . though truth and falsehood be

Near twins, yet truth a little elder is;

Be busy to seek her; believe me this,

He’s not of none, nor worst, that seeks the best.

To adore, or scorn an image, or protest,

May all be bad; doubt wisely; in strange way

To stand inquiring right, is not to stray;

To sleep, or run wrong, is. On a huge hill,

Cragged and steep, Truth stands, and he that will

Reach her, about must and about must go,

And what the hill’s suddenness resists, win so.

Yet strive so that before age, death’s twilight,

Thy soul rest, for none can work in that night.

To will implies delay, therefore now do;

Hard deeds, the body’s pains; hard knowledge too

The mind’s endeavours reach, and mysteries

Are like the sun, dazzling, yet plain to all eyes.

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*Go here to read more about the meaning of Donne’s poems, including his very Christian Satire III, here.