Pride in the name of respect

Peter is the only one who responds when Jesus washes feet.

Maybe no one noticed it was Jesus. His point wasn’t to call attention to himself, after all, but to call attention to the hearts of the disciples, to the opportunity to serve each other that is always present. So it could be that he was almost invisible, with the cloak of invisibility which accompanies people we think we are better than.

For whatever reason, Peter is the voice. And Peter argues that he doesn’t want Jesus to wash his feet.  Jesus explains the necessity. Peter then wants not just his feet washed but his head and hands as well.

Here’s what I just realized.

Peter wants to tell Jesus what to do.

Peter wants to be God.

See, two posts back I talked about Jesus doing only what he was told to do. For Jesus, the voice providing direction was, by definition, the Father. So when Peter decides to tell Jesus what to do and how to do it, he is presuming to be God.

Peter would never see it that way. He would have argued that he was preserving the appropriate hierarchy, that the teacher would never wash the feet of the student. To accept such behavior would be too disruptive of, well, of everything. It just wouldn’t be right. Peter might have to change how he thought of everything.

And so, in the name of humility, Peter demonstrates great pride.

I would guess that among the other eleven (for Judas was still in the room (consider that for a moment–Jesus washed Judas’ feet)), there was similar consternation, similar pride.

I would guess that among other followers millenia later, such consternation still lingers.

“No, Jesus, you don’t have to do that for me.”

Yes, he says, I do.

big and small uses of time

(Paul Merrill writes here every First Friday)

A few weeks ago, a friend mentioned that he told his pastor how wrong he was to clean the church’s toilets. This friend (let’s call him “Bob”) said how much wiser it would be to hire a cleaner who needed the work – and his pastor could spend his time doing more important things like meeting with church members or preparing sermons. Bob went on to say that he never picks up trash on the sidewalk. “I’m not like that. I can’t be bothered. It’s someone else’s job.”

I disagreed.

You see, I am one who picks up trash on the sidewalk. I said to Bob, “If the king of the universe were behind me, I’d want the sidewalk to be as nice as possible, so he would enjoy his walk more.” Jesus said in Matthew how we should treat the lowest member of society like a king. I was thinking anyone walking behind me might be a king.

Bob was speechless. For about 10 seconds. Then he changed the topic.

I think we both were wrong. And we both were right.

Bob had a good point about how we should focus our time and resources wisely. I had a good point about how humility is an excellent attribute to have.

Bob was wrong to say that it’s never good for leaders to clean toilets (Jesus washed the feet of his disciples in John 13.) I was wrong to get angry enough with Bob for his not understanding those who are not like him, such that my anger lingered into the next day. And maybe I was being Martha.

Jesus is the only man who had a truly balanced life. Those of us who follow Him are thankful for the example He gave us on how we need to live. In every way.

the kingdom of heaven is a party, part 5

The expected celebrants reject and are therefore rejected. The unsuspecting marginals are in the seats of honor.

The story Jesus tells in Matthew 22 is delightful to a crowd of ordinary people, depressing to the elite.

But Jesus has one more turn in the story, a man tossed out.

When the king shows up for the party, he goes to the one man without a tux, the guest who was glaringly different. “How did you get in without wedding clothes?” the king asked.

If this were a commercial or a movie or a sitcom, the man would have spun mockery out of the silence. We are used to characters who go against the norms, who speak truth to pompous power. In our version of this story, it would have been the man pointing to the king saying, “you have no clothes.”

We aren’t writing the story. Jesus is dead serious.

To be at a wedding feast is to dress like you care. To accept the abundance of the king is to accept the simple expression of sartorial submission. Some writers suggest that kings would have provided wedding clothes for all the guests, making the rejection of such clothing an affront to the gift of the king.

This man didn’t have the clothes. And this man had no excuse, no defense.

The king called the bouncers, the man was tied and tossed out.

————–

And that’s the end of the story. Almost everyone listening thought it made complete sense, was cheering for the people from the street who made it to the party. Then Jesus says “Many are invited, few are chosen.” And the Pharisees walk out looking for a new way to trap him.

Jesus draws lines for the party. They aren’t where we would. In this story, however, they make sense.

the kingdom of heaven is a party, part 4

So the king is enraged and destroys a city.

That’s yesterday’s news.

Though actually, it is today’s news in some parts of the world where insurrection is treated quickly and the murder of governmental employees is considered a significant crime.

But Jesus keeps talking as he is tells a crowd his story of a king holding a wedding banquet for his son. The crowd would have been completely understanding of the king’s response. But now he does something completely unexpected.

“We’ve got tons of food ready,” he tells is servants. “Go find anyone you can to come and eat.” And they did. The servants went out and brought people into the party. It made no difference whether they were considered good people or bad, whether they were tax collectors or managers or shepherds in town for a holiday or the con artists who regularly fleeced them. It was an extravagance of prodigality, the king throwing open the doors in the name of his son.

“The people who thought they were too good for me,” the king implies, “can be replaced by anyone because I am who decides merit, not anyone else.”

The crowd would have been giggling and looking furtively at the leaders for their reaction. The social structure turned upside down, this was vintage Jesus. That always ticked off someone noble, someone religious.

The people would have been rewarded for their glances with confirming glares. This was the third time in a row that Jesus told a story about a king/father asking leaders to respond and being ignored. And the story always was elevating the undeserving, disobedient, unreliable, underdogs. Such stories are loved by underdogs and despised by top dogs.

There is hope for everyone, the story said. Great news.

Unless you are the one dress code violation. Tomorrow.

the kingdom of heaven is a party, part 3

Thank you for your patience. I am walking us through this story in Matthew 22 very slowly. In fact, we are taking a week.

Why?

Because it is a story that can easily be misunderstood.

I mean, you read this, “The king was enraged. He sent his army and destroyed those murderers and burned their city” and you think,

“Wait a minute. I know how parables work. If Jesus is telling a story about a king and his son, he’s got to be talking about his Dad and him, right? And if so, this has God killing a whole town and I thought God is loving. So what’s with that?”

See?

That’s why we are reading slowly, trying to understand how it feels to hear it for the very first time.

A king scheduled a party, a well-planned party. There had been “save the approximate date” cards out for a long time. The people who had been invited had known that there would come a day when the servants would show up. The king sends out servants to let those people know that it was time to come to the party and the people ignored the first invitation and then killed the messengers carrying the second invitations.

This response of the king comes after these people so rejected him and rejected his son and killed his servants that there was no chance of them ever being loyal subjects again. Because, after all, these were subjects. He treated them as friends, but he was the king. And this wasn’t skipping a party. This was open insurrection, treason, rebellion.

Everyone listening to this story would have thought that this was exactly the appropriate response for murderous traitors.

But the story doesn’t stop there. And the next part is even more shocking. And hopeful.