On Not Being Jerks--June 26, 2023

On Not Being Jerks--June 26, 2023

[Jesus said to the disciples:] "A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household?" [Matthew 10:24-25]

So... if we find ourselves ridiculed or criticized for our words (which does sometimes happen), how do we know if it's because we're being faithful to Jesus--or just because we're jerks?

That's the thing.  To be sure, sometimes Jesus' followers will be insulted, mocked, or maligned because they are being faithful to Jesus.  And then sometimes, it's just that we are acting or speaking like a horse's rear-end, and others are just calling us out for it.  Like James Finley's line puts it, "It may be true that every prophet is a pain in the neck, but it is not true that every pain in the neck is a prophet.  There is no more firmly entrenched expression of the false self than the self-proclaimed prophet."  Ouch--but fair point, sir.

For that matter, even if you actually know what you're talking about but are determined to be a jerk about it, the Scriptures warn us against pontificating.  As the Apostle Paul famously put it, "If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or clanging cymbal.  And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have fall faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing."  In other words, it is possible to be factually correct and still be completely un-Christ-like in weaponizing what you know that you are no longer really a voice for truth--at least not the truth that matters, anyway.

This is the bind we're in if we are going to take our calling as Christians who care about truth seriously: I can't just assume that any time I have a strong opinion, I must be the sole truth-teller, and that anyone who doesn't like what I have to say must be ridiculing me for my faith.  And on the other hand, we can't just give up on ever saying anything for fear of being ridiculed--because sometimes difficult truths need to be told, rather than rehearsing what people want to hear.  So what are we to do?

Well, I want to suggest that Jesus gives us direction on this very question: when we stick close to him, we're on solid ground.  When we listen close to Jesus and pattern our way of speaking on him--not just what he says, but how he says it--we're less likely to be spouting off from our own soapboxes with our pet peeves.  That also means a constant willingness to check ourselves with Jesus, as we've come to know him and as we're introduced to him in the Scriptures.  That keeps us from just telling ourselves that whatever we already think must be in line with Jesus, because we're Christians and Christians know Jesus.  [There's a line of Richard Rohr's I ran across just the other day where he says how often the posture of Christians is to say about Jesus, "He's God of our saved church, which means that our church is right--and so are we."  How very easy it is to jump into that circular thinking and stay there.]

When Jesus tells his followers to be ready to be insulted, rejected, and maligned, he takes it for granted that it will be because we are echoing his words and his way in the world.  "If they've mocked the master of the house, how much more will they mock the rest of his household," he says.  That presumes people see a common thread, a connection between our witness and the way of Jesus.  Jesus presumes that we'll stick close to speaking what we've heard from Jesus and embodying the way we've seen him engage with people, rather than just letting us baptize our pre-existing opinions, bigotries, and hobby-horses.  And of course, when we echo the audacious boundary-crossing love we've first encountered in Jesus, we'll likely find ourselves condemned by the same kinds of Respectable Religious Folks who criticized Jesus for eating with sinners, welcoming the outcasts, and including the "unacceptables."  When we speak up for people to be treated justly, graciously, and with neighborly kindness, even if that upsets others who are comfortably complacent, we'll meet with the same kind of resistance and ridicule that Jesus ran into when he told a scandalous story like the Good Samaritan.  When we stand in the face of power without fear, like Jesus did before Pilate, we shouldn't be surprised to run into hostility.  Staying close to Jesus keeps us from just shouting our own agendas with spiritual dressing.

So often these days, when the watching world criticizes Christians, it's not because they want to mock our devotion to Christ, but because they see how very un-Christ-like our words and actions come off.  We are less likely to be maligned for being faithful to Jesus than to be called out for being jerks and using our faith for cover.  So in those cases, it's worth listening honestly and humbly to see where maybe the critics have a point... and where we can be correctible.  And where we are echoing Jesus' words and way, there we can stand on solid ground and take whatever insults or mocking come--because if the accusations or insults are for being like Jesus, that's really high praise.

Today, let's dare to be correctible, to keep looking again and again to Jesus, and to pattern our witness on him.  That will ground us in truth that is solid as well as love that is real.  And that's where we need to stand today.

Lord Jesus, make us to speak, act, and love like you, and then it won't matter what anybody else thinks of us.