"Outgrowing Our Insecurities"--July 23, 2019

"Outgrowing Our Insecurities"--July 23, 2019

"When the days drew near for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, 'Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?' But he turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village." [Luke 9:51-56]

Do you know how Jesus handles disagreement, criticism, and even rejection from others?  Not like a baby.

That's actually a pretty big deal.  Jesus doesn't lash out with insecure threats or a violent rage just because someone doesn't like what he says or doesn't agree with him--even when he is completely in the right.  Jesus is just that mature. 

And he expects no less from his followers--that turns out to be a part of our witness, as a matter of fact.

So as a case in point, consider this scene from Luke's Gospel in which Jesus, knowing that his mission will take him to the cross waiting for him in Jerusalem, endures the rejection of a Samaritan village along the way to that destination.  Jesus isn't wrong to be focused on Jerusalem, and he knows that he isn't.  But when the townspeople get upset with Jesus over it (the Samaritans had their own alternative capital and central worship site, after all), Jesus doesn't get in a huff with them.  Jesus doesn't go shouting about how these Samaritans are stupid, or dangerous, or wrong.  He doesn't even question their piety or their devotion to God, even though their religion is different from the Judaism that Jesus was raised in and practiced.  And maybe most radical of all, Jesus offers to be the one to leave.

That is simply stunning to me.  Instead of getting worked up and defensive, instead of trading criticisms or insults with the Samaritans, and instead of insisting that they need to get out of the land of God's "true" people (and there were certainly Judeans who would have said that Samaritans did not have a rightful claim to their own land), Jesus is the one who leaves.   Jesus is the one who goes on his way, back to his own country, rather than some kind of petty demand that the Samaritans pick up and leave.  Jesus chooses the vulnerable position--and that is not an accident or a design flaw in his actions. It is a core element of the way of Jesus.

Now, there is a follow-up to all of this that we cannot avoid:  the followers of Jesus are called to the same kind of vulnerability, the same kind of graceful humility, and the same kind of maturity when we meet with others who disagree, criticize, or reject us.  This is not an option. This is not "extra credit" for saints or holy overachievers.  Jesus rules out his followers taking the dominating position of ordering others around or commanding fire to come down from heaven when someone doesn't like what we say or doesn't agree with us.  We don't get to uproot someone else because they cannot see eye to eye with us--we are called to be the ones who pick up and move along, rather than demanding it of someone else.  We are called to the position of vulnerability.

There is a direct line between Jesus' response to the residents of the Samaritan village and what Jesus expects of his followers.  We do not have permission to invoke, or even threaten, divine judgment on the people who don't like what we have to say or don't agree with you.  And we do not get to insist that someone else has to go if we don't like them or can't agree.  Just the opposite: we are called to the vulnerable position.  We are called to make room for those who think differently or see differently and say so.  That is part of our witness.

In a very important sense, that goes straight to the heart of the Gospel, straight to the core of our understanding of God.  As the Russian Orthodox writer and bishop Anthony of Sourozh (also known by the title Metropolitan Anthony Bloom) once put it, "The church must never speak from a position of strength...the church ought to be, if you will, as powerless as God himself, who does not coerce but who calls and unveils the beauty and the truth of things without imposing them."  That vulnerability--the same vulnerability that just walks away from the rejecting Samaritan village rather than calling down fire from heaven as punishment--is at the core of who God is.  What Jesus shows us in his response is the very heart of God--that God is not some schoolyard bully who is so insecure as to need always to get the last word, and always to be perceived as "strong" or "tough" or "great."  God is not so needy as all that, and because of that, God is willing to bear rejection and just keep on the way to the cross (where yet another rejection waits for the divine).

And if this is the God we think we have been called to share with the world, then we will practice the same kind of vulnerability.  It will be the way the world will see Christ in us.  Our policy toward the world is not to be kind only to the people who already agree with us, or only kind as long as they are still on the fence and deciding how to respond to us.  Our calling is a vulnerable, rejectable kindness that does not return anger for anger or insult for insult precisely when others disagree or reject what we have to say.  Kindness, then, is not simply a tactic for persuasion or part of the sales-pitch.  It is our way of revealing the character of Christ.  And Christ is the same always, regardless of whether folks receive him or reject him, are kind to him or crucify him, serve him loyally or abandon him in fear when the authorities show up.  Christ is the same, and therefore, we are called to his consistent kind of vulnerability.

That will mean learning to outgrown our insecurities and the childish need to seem tough or get the last word.  And that is not always easy, nor do we have many good role models in public life for that kind of vulnerability.  We had better just be honest about all that.  But that is our calling: not to show God's supposed toughness by calling down fire on those who reject us, or telling them to leave, but by taking the vulnerability into ourselves and living with those who disagree rather than trying to push them out of the picture.  

We are called, in other words, to act like spiritual grown-ups.  Dare we?

Lord Jesus, give us the maturity to be vulnerable like you.