Dear Luke,
I find your last letter concurs
with one I received just yesterday. A
man I trust relayed the story of the sower just as you have described it, only
without the explanation! I am most
grateful for your discovery of this additional conclusion, for I had spent
hours examining the story and hoping to make headway into the web of truth it
promised to hold. I wonder what parables
Jesus might use for you or I—would he used the same ones, and trust us to
determine the agrarian meaning of them, or would they be more properly
translated into something we might understand?
Oh, how I long to know what Jesus
might say to me today! I’d love to know
if I’m on the right path, if I’m truly following him or if I’ve only convinced
myself that this life is a gift of service to him. Maybe I’m misconstrued the words and
teachings of Jesus so deeply that my life isn’t actually an offering at all,
rather a justification of my own desires mixed with an occasional desire to
receive Jesus’ benefits.
Forgive my melancholy ramblings,
Luke, but this series of letters has challenged my own faith in ways I did not
expect. I had thought this would be a
confirmation march for me through the actions of Jesus, and that by the end
there would be such a crystal clear case for the Lordship of Jesus Christ that
no reasonable man could ever turn from faith in him. Instead, we have rebukes and complicated
teachings that seem to offer a consistent message, but not one that is always
easy to hear. The disciples themselves
must have wondered if they were even truly following this man.
The version of the story of the
sower that I received has some additional material tacked on to the end of
it. Jesus went on to tell the crowd the
simple fact that a lit lamp is never put under a jar or a bed, but rather
displayed on a lampstand so that its light may benefit others. Strangely, though, he went from here to say
that all hidden and secret things will eventually come to light, and that more
will be given to those who already have much, while those who have little will
lose what little they have.
I have often heard the invocation
for followers of Jesus to let the light of Christ shine through them for others
to see, but this particular teachings casts a bit of a different light upon
that story. Jesus uses the light to
expose those things we would prefer not to see the light of day. For those of us with things in our past that
we might not be particularly proud of, this is no easy teaching. What, I might ask, then happens to those
things? Displayed for all to see, is it
merely for our embarrassment, or is there a greater purpose they serve? Or is this an admonition to prevent us from
doing things that we believe are in secret?
And as for those with more
discovering additional blessings added to their lot, it hardly seems fair. Is this an argument for us to work toward
great faith, so we can find it added to, or is there something deeper working
here? Why would Jesus take from those
who have little? I am lost here, Luke,
and these passages trouble me more than they should.
The remainder of my message is also
somewhat disturbing, I believe. At first
reading, it is rather harsh, but the more I reflect upon it, the more
incredible it seems. Jesus was told that
his mother and brothers had come to see him but could not reach him because of
the crowd. Rather than leave the crowd
like most of us would, he instead says that his mother and brothers are those
who hear and do the word of God.
As I said, I was initially shocked
at this rejection of his true family. If
I were them, I would be rather hurt by these words. There is always a special place in my heart
for my family. Jesus, however, refuses
to give anyone special privilege just because they are family. In his mind, anyone who serves God is equal
to another. I realized, after a great
deal of laboring on these words, that this gives great advantage to those who
have no worldly advantages. Their
willingness to do the word of God elevates them to a place that they would
never be able to make it based on political connections. It is truly a level playing field—all we have
to do is serve God. (I say that as
though it is an easy thing to do!)
Jesus did not always make himself
clear, but it is refreshing to see a leader who didn’t necessarily put his friends
and family first. He welcomed all who
came with an open and earnest heart, as you discussed in your last letter. His love seems unconditional, and as a man
who is far from perfect, I rejoice in such a fact.
Sincerely,
Theophilus
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