Consider afresh the kinds of people Jesus manages to bring together. We often focus on the blue-collar, ragtag nature of the disciples, but I don’t think we often reckon with their deep differences. Some of which ran along fault lines similar to what we face today.
On the same team you have Matthew the tax collector and Simon the Zealot. It’s hard to feel the scandal now, but here’s the historical reality: the Zealots were a fierce sect of Jewish 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴, bent on overthrowing Roman oppression at all costs.
That’s Simon.
That’s Simon.
Meanwhile, the tax collectors were Jewish 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴, those benefiting from Roman oppression at the expense of their brothers and sisters.
That’s Matthew.
That’s Matthew.
So you’ve got one working against the government; the other working for it. One is a violent patriot; the other a sellout, a snitch.
And Jesus intentionally brings them together.
And Jesus intentionally brings them together.
It would have been so much easier not to! It would have been so much more convenient and efficient and, reasonable minds would have said, 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦 to simply create two groups: Zealots For Jesus, and Tax Collectors For Jesus.
But Jesus doesn’t opt for what’s easy; he opts for what’s miraculous. He takes sworn political enemies—as if today he were to take an extreme leftist, and someone from the alt-right, and say: “Both of you repent and follow me. Together.”
In his book 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴, @JohnPiper makes a striking observation:
“The strength and wisdom and love of a leader is magnified in proportion to the diversity of people he can inspire to follow him with joy.”
“The strength and wisdom and love of a leader is magnified in proportion to the diversity of people he can inspire to follow him with joy.”
Piper explains: “If you can lead only a uniform group of people, your leadership qualities are not as great as they would be if you could win a following from very diverse people.”
Startling differences among the disciples reflect the singular greatness of their Leader.
Startling differences among the disciples reflect the singular greatness of their Leader.
May our churches increasingly become havens not just for clones—something the world can reproduce—but for repenting sinners who at times may have little in common except for the King who alone holds the power to unite them.
This isn’t kumbaya idealism. It’s blood-bought gospel.
This isn’t kumbaya idealism. It’s blood-bought gospel.