“Which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”  The question slips from the lips of the Pharisee, smooth and silky like a Disney villain. Gotcha, he thinks. I have heard this man teach. He’s good, but I’m better, he thinks.  This is not a new conversation for the Pharisee; he has had this one over and over in the synagogue, in the market, anywhere he can. Best of all, he has a dynamite answer that will trap anyone and let him win the debate.

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But something isn’t right; this teacher isn’t getting flustered. His face isn’t getting red; he isn’t backpedaling – this is new. Then, the teacher speaks: To Love the Lord your God with all of you – your mind, body, and soul – and the second is like it, Love your neighbor as much as you love yourself.

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‍Wait, What? That wasn’t what he was supposed to say… This was not how this was supposed to go. ‍

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When we read, our brains tend to identify with the hero. Let’s face it, 10-year-old me, I aspired to be an Autobot not a Decepticon, but I’ll bet if you asked my mom, I acted more like a Decepticon at that age. So, when we read the Bible, our brains tend towards the hero. We picture ourselves someday standing up to the manipulative Pharisee and laying down gospel truth. But unfortunately, I think I act more like the Pharisee than I really want to let on.

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How many times do we hear God speak to us, whether through reading, music, or a speaker, and we decide, that doesn’t fit my narrative or my world view, or that is uncomfortable. Maybe it’s something deeply seated in you from how you were raised; maybe it is a spot in your heart you just don’t want to open up and give to God. But through all of these, even the question the Pharisee posed, the language is all the same: “God, I know better than you.”  

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Man, when it’s put that way, it sits in the gut like a ton of bricks. The good news is, Jesus doesn’t respond with, look here, you stupid kid, he says, hey I know what your heart is saying. I know your pain, I know your anger, and I have made this incredibly simple. All you have to do is love me, you don’t have to have all the laws memorized, you don’t have to root out all the unforgiveness in your heart – all you have to do is love me, and I’ll take it from there.

Abba, you are so good. You love us even when we act like a child, arguing and pushing you away. Your love for us is bigger than our stubbornness. Abba, help us to see the places in our life where we have decided we know better, where we try to hold control and are not simply loving you. You are the God above all, and even in our stubbornness, you will be glorified. Amen.