Dear Theophilus,
This idea of yeast is an intriguing
one to me. This line of inquiry started
out as a niggling thought, squirming its way into my consciousness each and
every day until I finally allowed it to triumph over me and I began my
investigation. It was a small thought, a
minute curiosity, that has turned into a full-on quest to discover the truth
about a man who had barely crossed my mind some years ago. A small nugget, a kernel of yeast, has led us
here, and who knows what might happen from here. There are times in which I am convinced that
God is real, that the sense of him is almost tangible, and yet there are
moments, days, weeks, in which I am certain that there is no God and that even
if there ever was, he has abandoned this world long ago. I see chaos rising in the world, people
killed senselessly, and I wonder where God is.
Wouldn’t now be an ideal time for a return? Why wait, and let more people die
needlessly? We need hope. I am not sure I am bold enough to hope in
Jesus’ return.
I have news of a question that was
asked of Jesus, a question that has been on my mind ever since we started this
exchange. On his way to Jerusalem, in
some nameless village, someone asked Jesus if only a few will be saved.
I would imagine that our natural
inclination, our human hope, is to wish for the short answer of no. But you and I both know by that Jesus never
gives a short or easy answer when the opportunity arises for a longer teaching! His reply is below.
There
exists a narrow door by which many will seek entry. They will fail, and yet you are to strive to
enter by this door. Imagine the door to
a house that has been shut—when you are knocking at the closed door, begging
for the Lord to open it, he’ll reply by saying that he doesn’t know your origin. You’ll say that you dined with him and
watched him teach, but he will call you evil and say that he doesn’t know
you. Imagine your pain when you see
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and the prophets in God’s kingdom and you are
excluded. You will scream in misery. Others will come, from every cardinal
direction, to eat in the kingdom, including many whom you do not expect, some
you would put as the last, as the dregs of society, while many of the elite,
whom you would put first, are last.
I know, Theophilus, that I
shouldn’t still be shocked, but I can’t help but open my eyes wide as I read
such accounts. I don’t know what this
narrow door is, but it sure sounds to me like it’s the better place to be! The life Jesus describes on the outside of
God’s kingdom seems awful and painful, especially the knowledge of who else has
gone in while you are stuck outside, banging on the door while your pleas fall
on deaf ears. I think this all goes back
to our recent conversation—that it’s not enough simply to eat with him, to
listen to him—he wants more than that from us.
There is a deeper commitment we must make than only to hear him. To be honest, though, I wish he’d just come
out and say it plainly! If he could
describe the narrow door a bit more clearly, I sure would appreciate it, and
I’d probably be able to seek it out a little better. Instead I find myself scratching my head
wondering if a good, ethical life is enough, or if there’s something more I
need to be doing.
While I scratch my head in response
to his teachings, there were Pharisees who knew that his teachings would be
explosive. For as many bad things as
we’ve said about Pharisees, it’s evident that some cared deeply for him and his
mission. In this instance, just after
he’d concluded the previous teaching, some warned him that he should leave, for
Herod intended to have him killed.
Me?
I’d be grateful for the warnings and flee for my life, not wanting such
a powerful foe nearby. Jesus almost
seems to enjoy such an adversary, dancing just beyond the reach of the sword,
perilously close to losing his life.
Rather than thank the Pharisees for
their warning, he sends them back to Herod, who he calls a fox, with a message
that he will continue to cast out demons and cure people for the next two days,
and that his work will be done on the third day. He then talks about how he’ll be on the way,
because he can’t be killed outside of Jerusalem, a city he laments for its past
history that includes killing prophets and stoning others who are sent
there. Jesus lovingly describes the city
as a people that he wants to gather beneath him, like a hen hovering over her
chicks, offering them the protection of her wings. Theophilus, this is a sweet image, but it
seems insane to love so deeply a city with such a reputation for reviling those
sent on its behalf! Jesus then concludes
his message to Herod by telling him that his house remains, but he will not see
Jesus until the appropriate time, when he will say, the one that comes in the name of the Lord Is blessed.
I cannot imagine what Herod will
make of such a message. It seems
designed to further confuse the man, which will probably only irritate him
more. It doesn’t sound like a message
from a man who is very concerned about Herod, which is odd considering how much
power Herod wields. Perhaps this is
evidence that Jesus is not stable, that he’s not sane, and thus his teachings
are the product of a lunatic? The
thought has crossed my mind before, and while it seems callous to accuse the
man of such a thing, I cannot avoid the thought, friend. There are many moments when it seems as
though he exists in a different world and the present one which he inhabits can
be another reality. His words confound
me, as they seem to have done to many of the original listeners, and perhaps
the problem is not mine but his.
I apologize if you think ill of me
for reaching such a conclusion. I do not
mean to provoke you with such an accusation, but I must give voice to the
thought that dogs me. The man is simply
an enigma, and every possible reason must be probed.
Sincerely,
Luke
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