It might even be argued that what is distinctive about the “civilized” Western world is our degree of tolerance. Nothing is so important it is worth fighting for, it seems. Is there nothing in our culture to which we attach transcendental importance?

If there is one underlying, deeply rooted position that is treated as of transcendental importance in Western societies, I suspect it is the notion of pluralism. This does not simply adopt the stance that diversity is a good thing, but that in the religious and philosophical arenas no position has the right to declare another position wrong. That is pluralism’s position: and that position is the only one exempt from criticism.

Pluralism, is surprisingly intolerant. All positions except its own are negotiable. That is the great problem with most forms of liberalism: liberalism can afford to be liberal only to liberals. Others are dismissed as fanatics, bigots, narrow-minded hate-mongers, and so forth.

Pluralism inevitably tends toward the depreciation of truth, even the possibility of knowing truth. The positions it then espouses are informed less by thoughtful criteria than by current fads. A position strongly held by those judged out of step with pluralism will be dismissed not on the basis of careful assessment but on the basis of the fact that it is out of step with pluralism. The truth-claims advanced by the position will never get a hearing.

Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount is a Jesus for whom the modern Western world is not prepared to meet, How often are we likely to meet a man on the street who would define the mission of Jesus in terms of Matthew 10:34: “Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword”?

The reason why our world is not prepared to meet the real Jesus is because of the pervasive influence of pluralism. So formidable is this influence on the popular mind that even Jesus has been recast as a prophet of this new god. The fact remains that the Jesus of Scripture bears little likeness to this new Jesus. The real Jesus, the authentic Jesus, the authoritative but compassionate Jesus, the Jesus who confronts the world, is quite frankly a divisive Jesus.

Following Jesus Elicits Opposition from the World & Sometimes Persecution

Jesus reminds us, “A student is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. It is enough for the student to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master. If the head of the house has been called Beelzebub, how much more the members of his household!” (Matt. 10:24–25. If the matchless Son of God himself can be aligned in the minds of many with the devil himself, why should his followers think they will escape all opprobrium? Scorn or reproach

Indeed, according to these verses the genuine disciples of Jesus will so attach themselves to the Master that they will be satisfied to be treated as he was., they rejoiced “because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name” (Acts 5:41).

Jesus was as concerned to prepare his disciples for ministry beyond the immediate mission as he was for this trainee mission itself. He was sending them out for this brief tour; but this mission was and example of their lifelong calling, and of the perpetual mission of the church.

Jesus warns them, “But be on your guard against men; they will hand you over to the local councils and flog you in their synagogues” (10:17). What is in view is not the first mission—there is no evidence that the
apostles faced flogging at this point—but the earliest years of the Christian church, before the irrevocable split with the synagogue had occurred. Synagogues often wielded discipline over their own members, and this included flogging with thirty-nine stripes. Once Christians had entirely withdrawn from the synagogue, of course, this punishment could no longer be meted out on them. But in many centers that breach was a long time coming. Paul himself suffered this flogging five times within the first two decades of his ministry (2-Cor. 11:24)—eloquent testimony to the persistence with which he himself practiced the principle that the gospel was “first for the Jew, then for the Gentile” (Rom. 1:16).

“On my account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles” (Matt. 10:18). The words governors and kings indicate a non-Jewish environment; and the final phrase, “and to the Gentiles,” makes this explicit. Like the heroes of the faith listed at the end of Hebrews 11, “the world was not worthy of them” (Heb. 11:38).

Christians in the West have not faced the ultimate trial, but have faced considerable harassment.

The Master said, “I am sending you out like sheep among wolves”

Jesus followers must handle a wolf environment.

Jesus’ disciples must therefore be shrewd, prudent, avoiding attacks where possible, behaving wisely and with far-sighted realism; but they must also be innocent, open, not so cautious, suspicious, and cunning that they become paranoid, or fearful. Without a doubt the balance is difficult; but we find it hard to balance this because we have experienced relatively little opposition.

Clearly, then, the fact that the divisiveness of Jesus leads to opposition by the world, and sometimes to outright persecution, is no cause to be paranoid. But, a cause for sober reflection, careful counting of the cost, wise assessment that fully expects trouble and is grateful when it passes us by. As disciples of Jesus we should expect opposition, sometimes of the crudest kind, and view it as part of our calling. That is the way the Master went.

Following Jesus Will Disrupt Families

In the first century, the words, “Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child; children will rebel against their parents and have them put to death” did not or does not shock us in the West as it would in area in which Jesus walked, or in parts of that world today. Where the family unit is stronger than it is in most Western democracies, there is corresponding horror at the thought of disruption.

In cultures with tight social units—Japan, or some Muslim countries—it is considered an extraordinary offense to do something that brings shame on the family.

In such “shame” cultures, it can actually become a point of honor to take drastic action to remove the shame. In some place where Islam reigns uncontested, a family member who becomes a Christian brings shame on the entire family, and is therefore in serious jeopardy of being killed by his own family. We know nothing of that kind of family concern.

Few people who have become Christians as adults, and who come from homes with little sympathy for the gospel, have not faced some sense of serious dislocation. The truth is that we should not be surprised by this outcome. Jesus himself could define his mission in terms of such family disruption

“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword” (10:34). Of course, he does not mean that his primary objective was division within families and larger units in society.

Jesus means that his primary purpose is calling sinners to repentance, inevitably results in lives so transformed in their direction and values that they will clash with the society from which they have emerged. Nor does Jesus mean that the consummation of the kingdom will bring perpetual strife and no tranquility. The inauguration of the kingdom brings stresses and division to a sinful world that cherishes its own self-centeredness. Such a world may pride itself on its high-sounding religious and ethical formulations; but in practice it is little prepared for the righteousness, forgiveness, and transformation of character the kingdom introduces.

The Old Testament analogy to which Jesus likens this situation is drawn from Micah 7:6: Jesus has come to turn “ ‘a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household’. Micah the prophet was describing the gross sinfulness and rebellion in the days of King Ahaz. As Jesus cites the words, however, he claims he will actually bring about these conditions: he has come to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother. He does not mean that those he wins as his disciples will turn against their family members, but that by winning men and women to himself their family members will turn against them. Since that is the inevitable effect of his mission, and he knows it, then in a sense he can say he has come to bring it about.

Why would Jesus do This?

“Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me” (10:37). Why should Jesus do something that is likely to weaken family ties? Isn’t he the one who elsewhere excoriates opponents for not honoring their parents as they ought?

The entire world order is given over to rebellion against God. Even the best of our social institutions, our families, the best of our governments—are weighed down with self-interest that leaves no time for God, or only for a domesticated God. Even when fairly high motives operate in these institutions, the reason for the motive is frequently not much more than mere utilitarianism.

Even when Caesar represents fairly good government, the new Christian finds his or her goals, priorities, and allegiances different from those of Caesar. If Caesar demands ultimate loyalty, the Christian must refuse, because they are sworn to another. Ideally, the Christian will still be, in many ways, an ideal citizen: honest, industrious, generous, law-abiding. But the Christian cannot focus all hope and expectation on the state, or a ruler, or a political party; and even if the Christian shares some of the hopes and aspirations of that party, final allegiance, ultimate confidence, and heart loyalty are devoted only to Jesus and his gospel.

This same principle applies with priorities concerning family relationships.

Ideally, a Christian will do all that is possible to strengthen family ties and nurture this God-given institution; but a Christian will not yield top devotion, principial service, to the family or its values. Non-Christian members of the family sense this, and resent the conversion of the new Christian. The pressure will be turned up and major choices are demanded.

Some family problems experienced by new Christians owe a great deal to the spiritual immaturity of the convert. This Christian can cause needless offense. Even zeal for the conversion of family members can become a dreadfully insensitive triumphalism that breeds hurt feelings and deep resentments. But the naive
zeal of a new convert is one thing; the sustained malice, suspicion, and even hatred of the rest of the family quite another thing.

Indeed, Christian conversion brings the new convert into conflict not only with the institutions of which he is a part, but with himself. For Jesus goes on to say, “and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (10:38–39).

The cross we are called to bear is not an individual affliction: a bad marriage, difficult financial circumstances, or a wayward child. We may all have individual burdens and difficulties to undergo; but that is not Jesus’ point.
Christians all have the same cross to bear: death to self-interest.

In the Roman world, the person who picked up the cross-member and lugged it out to the place of execution had come to the end of hope. Only death was left. It was futile to plot new schemes driven with self-interest. And that is what Jesus means: he is talking about principial death to self-interest, and a new and principial commitment to himself.

The truth is simple: “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (10:39). That is why this message is not full of gloom. The point is that, precisely because we were made for God, pursuit of self-interest is ultimately death-dealing; and for the same reason, when self-interest dies for Jesus’ sake and is replaced by enthusiastic loyalty to him, the greatest spiritual irony occurs and we “find” ourselves again.

That is why the happiest, most “fulfilled” Christians are not those who know the most, but those who with right motives serve the most. If you seek fulfillment, you will not find it; if you seek to serve Christ, often in the countless loving deeds to others that are universally unacknowledged except in the ledgers of heaven, you will find yourself.