You Must Respect My Authoritae!
One of the main reasons I never really liked God is that sometimes, particularly in the book of Mark, Jesus can come off as a real jerk. As the older sister, I've always been the one to boss the younger sibs around, so I can see the classic signs of an older sibling written all over his reaction to his fam and to those around him.
When I was younger, I read the whole New Testament, including all four Gospels, at least twice, and after doing so, I came to the conclusion that I was the oldest and no one was going to boss me around, particularily after being invisible for several thousand years. That was probably the first time I decided that Christianity might not be my bag. In those days, there was no other option, though, because my parents are quite devout. They wouldn't have stood for even voicing the idea that I might be having a sibling rivalry with Jesus. So, I kept it to myself. But on the inside, I thought that he was a bit of a jerk. I'd always wished for an older brother, but wishing for one and actually having one are two completely different things. How dare he be the oldest?
When I got older and began reading The Chronicles of Narnia, my belief was only strengthened by the portrayal of Aslan. I am probably the only person on the face of the earth who doesn't think Aslan rocks. I can't stand Aslan, and here's why: He only shows up when you suck. He also lets you know, in detail, why you suck even after you've admitted that you suck. And even after all his talk about not being "a tame lion," I still find him a bit on the harsh side. Aslan? Not my favorite superhero.
The older I get, the less I like being an older sibling. All the perks came when I was a kid. I may have gotten the biggest room, but I have paid for it many times over in skinned knees I've cleaned up, mistakes I've fixed, meals I've paid for, supplies I've purchased, and sacrifices I've made. I get tired of being the one who has to take care of everybody else. It burns me out. It makes me realize what Jesus may have meant when his family came looking for him (Matthew 12) and when the crowd told him that his mother and brothers were looking for them, he said that his disciples and the crowd were his family. I can imagine it was hard for Jesus to give up the responsibilities that should have been his and go out and be responsible for the whole world. Sometimes I wonder if he ever felt that he was letting them down, especially when he talks about a prophet being without honor in his hometown. At the same time, can you imagine having Jesus as an older brother? How could you ever live up to that! And if what he says is true, then he is our older brother. Ugh. Like what I need in my world is more pressure and guilt about living up to standards.
In addition, I've always had a problem with authority. I purposely do things to thwart it. For instance, sometimes, when it's late at night and I'm the only car even visible at the particular intersection I'm sitting at and I've been sitting there for several minutes and the light still shows no signs of changing, I've been known to run it. I pushed the outer limits of "walking" in the hallways. I hate speed limits. I seldom make rules for myself because I know that it's just tempting me to break them. I switched cold medicines purely because I don't think it's any of the government's damn business when I buy cold pills, and I refuse to give in to the idea that I should have to wait in line for a drug that is non-prescription. I don't like not being in charge of my own life.
And yet, here I am agin, back in the fold (loosely. I'm not sure I ever stay completely back in the fold, at least not for long) after Jesus or God or whoever it is that does the walking came to get me. And I never understand why because I am one of the biggest problem children on the face of the planet. They just get me back with the rest of the flock and then I'm off wondering around getting lost again. I don't even like the herd. I don't even like the fold. I don't even enjoy following a shepard. It's not like I'm even terribly bad so that heaven actually has a reason to rejoice. I'm just compacent and willfull even though I know better. I whine and complain and wander off over and over again, and yet I'm always searched out, pursued, carried back, and rejoiced over. I don't get it.
I guess that's what older siblings do: They come to get you when you wander away from safety. They rejoice when they find you, however dumb they may think you've been. They keep coming for some reason that's beyond my understanding, even though they know you don't want them and don't respect their authority. And you know what's probably the funniest thing about this? Whatever makes him keep coming after me, I hope he never stops.
When I was younger, I read the whole New Testament, including all four Gospels, at least twice, and after doing so, I came to the conclusion that I was the oldest and no one was going to boss me around, particularily after being invisible for several thousand years. That was probably the first time I decided that Christianity might not be my bag. In those days, there was no other option, though, because my parents are quite devout. They wouldn't have stood for even voicing the idea that I might be having a sibling rivalry with Jesus. So, I kept it to myself. But on the inside, I thought that he was a bit of a jerk. I'd always wished for an older brother, but wishing for one and actually having one are two completely different things. How dare he be the oldest?
When I got older and began reading The Chronicles of Narnia, my belief was only strengthened by the portrayal of Aslan. I am probably the only person on the face of the earth who doesn't think Aslan rocks. I can't stand Aslan, and here's why: He only shows up when you suck. He also lets you know, in detail, why you suck even after you've admitted that you suck. And even after all his talk about not being "a tame lion," I still find him a bit on the harsh side. Aslan? Not my favorite superhero.
The older I get, the less I like being an older sibling. All the perks came when I was a kid. I may have gotten the biggest room, but I have paid for it many times over in skinned knees I've cleaned up, mistakes I've fixed, meals I've paid for, supplies I've purchased, and sacrifices I've made. I get tired of being the one who has to take care of everybody else. It burns me out. It makes me realize what Jesus may have meant when his family came looking for him (Matthew 12) and when the crowd told him that his mother and brothers were looking for them, he said that his disciples and the crowd were his family. I can imagine it was hard for Jesus to give up the responsibilities that should have been his and go out and be responsible for the whole world. Sometimes I wonder if he ever felt that he was letting them down, especially when he talks about a prophet being without honor in his hometown. At the same time, can you imagine having Jesus as an older brother? How could you ever live up to that! And if what he says is true, then he is our older brother. Ugh. Like what I need in my world is more pressure and guilt about living up to standards.
In addition, I've always had a problem with authority. I purposely do things to thwart it. For instance, sometimes, when it's late at night and I'm the only car even visible at the particular intersection I'm sitting at and I've been sitting there for several minutes and the light still shows no signs of changing, I've been known to run it. I pushed the outer limits of "walking" in the hallways. I hate speed limits. I seldom make rules for myself because I know that it's just tempting me to break them. I switched cold medicines purely because I don't think it's any of the government's damn business when I buy cold pills, and I refuse to give in to the idea that I should have to wait in line for a drug that is non-prescription. I don't like not being in charge of my own life.
And yet, here I am agin, back in the fold (loosely. I'm not sure I ever stay completely back in the fold, at least not for long) after Jesus or God or whoever it is that does the walking came to get me. And I never understand why because I am one of the biggest problem children on the face of the planet. They just get me back with the rest of the flock and then I'm off wondering around getting lost again. I don't even like the herd. I don't even like the fold. I don't even enjoy following a shepard. It's not like I'm even terribly bad so that heaven actually has a reason to rejoice. I'm just compacent and willfull even though I know better. I whine and complain and wander off over and over again, and yet I'm always searched out, pursued, carried back, and rejoiced over. I don't get it.
I guess that's what older siblings do: They come to get you when you wander away from safety. They rejoice when they find you, however dumb they may think you've been. They keep coming for some reason that's beyond my understanding, even though they know you don't want them and don't respect their authority. And you know what's probably the funniest thing about this? Whatever makes him keep coming after me, I hope he never stops.
posted by GetMeThrough at
10:24 AM
2 Comments:
I imagine it would also be quite difficult to have him as a child. I mean, you ave to be pretty strong willed to spank god. This issue is actually brought up often in the bible (when Christ runs away from home and they find him in the temple) as well as many artist's renderings of the madonna. In many of the paintings, christ's face looks much older than his infant body and Mary looks very distraught/unhappy.
Have you ever read "The Last Temptation of Christ?" The movie is quite good in my opinion, but the novel (of course) is even better. My own philosphies don't resonate well with any organized religion, but I do find issues of asceticism, sacrifice and ritual quite interesting (which is why I read the book). Sounds like you might enjoy it too.
By
Anonymous, at 5:13 PM
I hadn't thought of that before, but you're right. The madonna usually does look unhappy. I can't imagine trying to discipline God. Of course, the arguement could be made that he wouldn't have needed to be disciplined because he was God, but I don't know if I've ever really believed that. Can you imagine the trama of having to wonder whether or not you had screwed up God's upbringing? Unreal.
I have not read The Last Temptation of Christ, but perhaps I will in the future. You make it sound interesting
By
GetMeThrough, at 12:56 PM
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