Rebel heart.

So I’m reading this amazing book called JESUS, A Pilgrimage by a Jesuit priest named James Martin.

It’s freaking incredible.

Aside from making me really want to go to Israel, this book is funny, approachable, and feels incredibly intimate — like I can peek in on the real life Jesus. The one who blew his nose and got blisters on his feet the first time he wore his summer sandals.

As usual, there’s been a little tornado of thoughts in my mind lately — okay, more like themes.

Tornado-like themes.

This is how God seems to speak to me. He spotlights themes all over the place, little syncronicities that get my attention and tell me something’s up.

I’m in a group called Savor the Success where I am lucky to be mentored by some top notch business women, and one of the things that Angela Jia Kim and Rosemary Camponoso talked about recently was looking under the bed. Facing our fears. Being honest about what we’re hiding from. I realized through this exercise that I am hiding from being everything I’m capable of being because I’m afraid people will think I’m a fraud.When I call potential sponsors for my retreat, or reach out to business clients for my consulting services, I’m afraid people will think, “Who the hell does she think she is?” even though I have a wealth of experience, knowledge, and value to offer.

In Martin’s book, he explores the life of Jesus as he visits Israel himself. So when he explores the so-called Hidden Life of Jesus (the time when he was a boy, growing up in Nazareth, about which we know virtually nothing) Martin is also there, in Nazareth, looking at ruins, dusting the sand off his own feet. It brings such life to the story, and through his pilgrimage, we learn so much about who Jesus was — little details that bring a depth of vibrancy to the scriptures we’ve read so much they are, at times, a little like slightly stale bread.

There is a whole new life of hurt that’s brought to life when reading about Nazareth’s rejection of their very own Jesus. This idea that Jesus was a big part of a small town — everyone would have known him. But it’s not just that everyone would have known him — it’s also that he knew everyone.

When Jesus stepped into the fullness of who he was meant to be, people he loved rejected him.

The friends he played with when he was little; the farmers he built oxen-yoke for, the families for whom he built homes. His own brothers and sisters. His people. He shared germs with these people — they gave each other stomach bugs and cold viruses. They shared meals and annoyed each other, lent each other tools and the occassional cup of goat’s milk. They worshipped and drank wine together. These were his people, and there they are, ready to chuck him off the precipice when he stepped into his own greatness.

They were confused by his confidence, his security in his self-knowledge.

There is a big difference between vanity and greatness, and the difference is freedom.

Vanity is a sort of false pretense. A thinking one is greater than they actually are. It is taking what is good and attempting to magnify it as great. But greatness comes from the freedom God gives us in his creation. He formed us in his own image. A small part of his great image, to be sure, but his image nonetheless. So we share in his creative power — his power to be great in our own small, earthly way.

Martin points out that Jesus’ courage came from his father in heaven, but

…it may have come from Jesus’s freedom from any desire for approval from the people in Nazareth…he didn’t need them to agree with him, approve of him, or even understand him…In short, he didn’t need to be liked. (pg 125-126).

Fear is selfish.

Throughout the past few days, God has been calling me out on my selfishness. Of course, he does this in a gentle, thoughtful way, and I think he often chuckles when the lightbulb finally goes off in my stubborn little head.

First, there was that call with Rosemary and Angela, then I had a partner call with one of my Savor Sisters who totally exposed my fear. “Sorry. Not sorry,” she said.

Now THAT is an accountability partner.

Then, I shuffled the music on my phone and an old-school Christian song came on. The lyrics: What? Isn’t that Jesus? Isn’t that Joseph and Mary’s son? Didn’t he grow up right here? He played with our children. He must be kidding….thinks he’s a prophet! But prophets don’t grow up from little boys…do they? (Song for my Parents, Keith Green).

Then, reading the book, all about Jesus as a little boy. About how he knew these people so well, and he probably knew exactly how they would respond when he said those words: Today this scripture is fullfilled in your presence. I’m here.

Oh, can you only imagine?

Martin says:

Jesus’s freedom sprang from an unwillingness to let other people’s opinions determine his actions. If he had succumbed to what other people thought, he never would have spoken in the synagogue, he never would have healed anyone, he never would have stilled a storm. He never would have raised anyone from the dead, for fear of offending those in authority. he never would have opened his mouth to proclaim the Good News. (page 127)

Bless his rebel heart. Thank you, Jesus, for your rebel heart that refused to let authority strip you of your greatness. Thank you for being willing to call out not just from the pulpit, but to the pulpit, when the pupit was misbehaving. Thank you for living so generously in your own greatness, because in doing so, you give the rest of us permission to live in ours.

I realized how selfishly I live when I live in fear. I realized how generous it is for me to be brave and courageous, to offer myself freely and let people think what they will. How even Jesus knew the sting of rejection from those he loved, which may, in some ways, have been worse than the stripes he would later endure.

To be a true Christ follower often means we need to have a rebel heart. It takes bravery to love like Jesus loved — unconditionally, without resentment or judgement. To love the outcasts, to dance on the periphery. There was nothing mainstream about Jesus. For better or for worse, as a child of God, I the part of Jesus’s DNA that I got is definitely his rebel heart. I might as well embrace it.

And so perhaps it is time for me to truly become a Christ follower — to live out my calling to it utmost greatness. Without fear. Or maybe with fear, since I certainly ain’t no Jesus. But also with a whole lot of faith.