You Might Not Have Wanted Jesus at Your Backyard Barbecue

     One impression about Jesus struck me more forcefully than any other. We have tamed him. The Jesus I learned about as a child was sweet and inoffensive, the kind of person whose lap you want to climb on, Mister Rogers with a beard. Indeed, Jesus did have qualities of gentleness and compassion that attracted little children. Mister Rogers, however, he assuredly was not.
      I realized this fact when I studied the Sermon on the Mount (see Matthew 5-7). "Blessed are the poor. Blessed are the persecuted. Blessed are those who mourn." These sayings have a soft, proverbial ring to them--unless you happen to know someone poor, persecuted or mourning. The homeless huddling over heating grates in our major cities, the tortured masses in refugee camps, the victims of natural disaster--who would think of calling them blessed, or "lucky"?
      In all movies about Jesus' life, surely the most provocative--and perhaps the most accurate--portrayal of the Sermon on the Mount appears in a low-budget BBC production entitled Son of Man. The director, Dennis Potter, sets the Sermon on the Mount against a background of violence and chaos. Roman soldiers have just invaded a Galilean village to exact vengeance for some trespass against the empire. They have strung up Jewish men of fighting age, shoved their hysterical wives to the ground, and even speared babies in order to "teach these Jews a lesson."
      Into that tumultuous scene of blood and tears and grieving for the dead strides Jesus with eyes ablaze. "I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you," he shouts above the groans. "Love the man who would kick you and spit at you. Love the soldier who would drive his sword in your belly. Love the brigand who robs and tortures you. Listen to me! Love your enemy! If a Roman soldier hits you on the left cheek, offer him the right one. Listen! I tell you, it is hard to follow me. What I'm saying to you hasn't been said since the world began!" You can imagine the villagers' response to such unwelcome advice. The Sermon on the Mount did not soothe them; it infuriated them.
      I came away from my study of Jesus both comforted and terrified. Jesus came to earth "full of grace and truth," said John (John 1:14). His truth comforts my intellectual doubts even as his grace comforts my emotional doubts. And yet, I also encountered a terrifying aspect of Jesus, one that I had never learned about in church school. Did anyone go away from Jesus' presence feeling satisfied about his or her life?
       Few people felt comfortable around Jesus; those who did were the type no one else felt comfortable around. The Jesus I met in the Gospels was anything but tame.