students of jesus

My favorite spectator sport is politics. I can appreciate a skillful politician of nearly any viewpoint, if he or she excels in the craft. I laugh at the pol who makes a mockery of himself. (It’s a spectator sport for me because I’d go insane if I tried to take it seriously.)

Good politicians don’t answer the question they were asked; they answer the question they wish they were asked. Really great politicians answer the question the reporter should have asked, but the reporter missed the point. And the very best politicians do so because their cause is too important to be hijacked by a reporter’s agenda or confusion.

That’s why Jesus is my favorite politician. He was focused on the Father’s mission, and he would not be drawn into the quagmire of frantic earthly priorities. Everyone wanted to pin Jesus down:

• “The law of Moses commanded us to stone such a woman. Now what do you say?”
• “Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not? Should we pay or shouldn’t we?”
• “Who sinned: this man, or his parents?
• (Insert you own favorite here)

The Lord’s answers are legend. They are examples of “the word of wisdom” in operation. We marvel at his insight and depth. We cheer when the tables are turned and the accusers become the accused.

Yet his words are more than political entertainment, more than the smart guy embarrassing the bad guys. His words are grace and truth, not only to the oppressed, but to the oppressors as well. His words are life to anyone with ears to hear. Jesus re-frames the issue and places Kingdom lenses into the new frames. Then, finally, both near-sighted and far can see what is really at stake. Jesus, the master politician, is neither right nor left, nor for that matter neither front nor back. He is from above.

Even today, Jesus is still answering the question you should have asked. In our grief over the loss of a loved-one we ask “why,” but we are not satisfied when he directs us to comfort others. We think he is changing the subject. The parents of a prodigal son asks, “where did we go wrong?” but the Lord chooses to redirect their attention to what should happen next. We miss his invitation to imitate the prodigal’s father. In our foolishness or pride we demand explanations to the injustice we see, when all the while the Lord knows that even his perfect answer will not heal the hurt or settle our hearts. We are too much like the priests or Pharisees or the masses, which wanted to make Jesus an earthly king. We stamp our feet and want “the truth.”

He answers the question we should have asked because he wants to transform us into his image, and he will not be distracted from his mission to love us into completeness.