'I have chosen you out of the world'
We are undesirable citizens of the world
"If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first.
If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own;
but because you do not belong to the world,
and I have chosen you out of the world,
the world hates you.” (John 15:18-19)
In a nutshell, Jesus describes the problem of Christ-followers and society’s secularly managed structures. We are undesirable citizens. The world loves its own, and we don’t belong to the world. We Christians aren’t culturally acceptable because our allegiance, our fealty, is to the creator, not to creation.
Image by Alexander Krivitskiy
The moral and ethical boundaries of Christianity irk the imaginations, fame, power, and financial goals of __________ (fill in the organization, nation, or international group).
Two things stand out from Jesus’ verses on the world. He intimates that authority is jealous of competition, which the Old Testament clearly states about God's detractors. Jesus insists, though, that he has no real competition because all authority is already subject to him. If we follow Jesus as willing disciples, we’re untethered to the grip of authorities other than him, becoming traitors to their superiority over us, Jesus, and any other gods.
Jesus insinuates that the world hates those it can’t control in a battle of possessive, conditional love. “If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own.” And, since we were absconded, taken from the world — “I have chosen you” — we’re, justifiably, hated for our disloyalty.
Our heads spin in frustration over this hatred. We know that fervent and mature Christians, almost without exception, make the best citizens. In every empire and nation where Christians exist, the population benefits, the environment is nurtured, children are educated and reared with love, and government institutions are respected. (I’ll accept all challenges to that statement and apologize immediately for any crazy, dictatorial fake Christians who’ve gone awry.)
Christian foundations—setting good behavior over bad and enacting missionary activity meant to nurture the population—mark the language of constitutions and principles in every free nation on earth. We’re law-abiding, self-sacrificing, solution-oriented, and caretakers of the oppressed, neglected, and downtrodden.
What’s not to like?
Jesus, frankly. He’s too full of himself, apparently. By definition of who Jesus is, backed up by scriptural records, every entrant into the afterlife goes through his checkpoint — a narrow gate without room for backpacks, trailers, or slaves. He’s got all-powerful angels who will weed out the deviant and the naysayers of him when he unleashes them on the last day. For cosmic and unknown timing reasons, God stays the violent, repressive hand of the angels. In essence, Jesus says he is intimately aligned, connected, and conjoined with the God of the universe and with a Spirit who permeates every living thing. The Spirit intervenes according to the desires of God's unstoppable plan. Jesus said the Father excuses no one from collaborating with evil, because the law is written on every heart.
The hubris of this guy, Jesus.
We, followers of Christ, are tolerated as long as we don’t acknowledge Jesus’ living presence, his merciful nature toward the righteous and unrighteous, and his constant call to pay attention to what he said, says, and will say. We can publicly give Jesus prophet props, good genes, and Tony Robbins-level speaking skills. But for the good of other religions, we must keep our worship language to ourselves. Oh, and unless we want to get arrested, shut up about abortion, transgenders, and homosexual marriage. Finally, we need to tamp down the “king” titles we give to Jesus, and refrain from attributing all the amazing stuff that happens to him and his cohorts (the Father and the Spirit).
Most of us play along and keep quiet in public. Eventually, we get our Peter-at-the-crucifixion debacles. It's likely already happened to you in an exchange where you threw Christianity under the bus. “I’m not one of those bible-beating morons.” "At least we Catholics are not as annoying as the Protestants." Or, "The Catholic Church needed to be taken down a notch.”
It’s hard to be persecuted as a Christian sympathizer if we successfully avoid collaborating with authentic Christians in the marketplace.
Maybe we tip our toe into standing up for Christ and his Church and thankfully only face embarrassment, sideways glances, or disdain. It’s no fun. Unfortunately, several of us fail to witness Christian sacrifice when we trade our faith for safety. Inescapably, we too will be victims of the slippery slope of creeping evil. Many of us could be wiped out by sympathetic-sounding euthanasia "healthcare" exercised by family members. More of us will be abandoned in “homes,” out of earshot and eyesight, so someone we love can get on with their life.
At least we got to live. Hundreds of thousands never even got the opportunity to take their first breath because the right to fornicate trumps the consequences.
We’ve been hollered and ignored by disgusted, fed-up family members who find us to blame for every ill out there, including a host of damaged folks we insist need help, not affirmation.
What’s Jesus’ answer to this tragedy of misguided hate?
He begins by explaining that the hatred we experience is about him. “But in order that the word written in their law might be fulfilled, ‘They hated me without cause.’”
Jesus is not moaning about what happened to him. He describes what will subsequently and consequently happen to us. We take the persecution, or we duck and dive. He’s right.
“I have told you this so that you may not fall away. They will expel you from the synagogues; in fact, the hour is coming when everyone who kills you will think he is offering worship to God. They will do this because they have not known either the Father or me. I have told you this so that when their hour comes you may remember that I told you.” (John 16:1-4)
Jesus’ friendship, kinship, and love are worth the trouble. The more we know him, the more we can be witnesses to those who don’t know him. Ultimately, God will use our suffering and deaths to bring others to him.
God asks us for courage, pleads with us to love each other, and promises to welcome us into his arms — not just later in glory, but right now. Jesus will do what the world says it can do for us. The threats and implemented persecutions from worldly authorities leave us with a life of fear, only delivering fake safety. In dribs and drabs, we will lose ourselves, love little, and die with no eternal benefits.
“And they will do all these things to you on account of my name, because they do not know the one who sent me."
Remember, this time of necessary courage is the shortest part of our eternity. We get an intimate, divine relationship that makes all the pain worth the trouble.
Read John’s new book, Frank & Ralph, a fictional novel about the retired Guardian Angels of Jesus, in Catholic Nutshell News.
Chapter 3 of Frank & Ralph, ‘Stares from Heaven,’ excerpt:
“In a very real way, Frank and Ralph were the only combinations of angelic holiness with a brokenness familiar to human existence . . . With trepidation, the angelic hosts watched Frank and Ralph.”
Paid subscribers (only $6 a year) get access to new chapters as they are added throughout the coming months.
John Francis Pearring Jr. authored Snarl, a novel about animal redemption, and the premise for A Snarl Theology.
You might appreciate this:
https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/gffY9i4HrJb
An especially wonderful piece, dear John! Dr. Ronda Chervin