Who Likes Being Left Out?

When I was growing up, I always dreaded the pick-up ball games where the “captains” of each team alternately picked players from the group of boys hanging around. I was always one of the last to be picked. Maybe it was being ungainly from various parts of my body growing at different rates, or maybe I already had a reputation for being more brains than brawn. Whatever the reason, I was left shuffling my feet until all the better players had been chosen. At least there were a couple of pudgy kids who were always dead last.

Sometimes it seems like we spend most of our lives trying to figure out where we are in the pecking order, glad that we’re not as bad as those guys but envious of those who are better. At our worst, we humans enshrine in law who’s in and who’s out. (The state of Arizona is only the latest example of that, not to minimize in any way the iniquities that will likely result if their new immigration law takes effect.)

It’s nice to know, I guess, that spending a lot of time around the Son of God didn’t predispose Jesus’ disciples to naturally take to those who were different. As one commentator put it, their faith and knowledge are both inadequate; they are still of this world. So Jesus has to be very explicit. “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Oddly enough, that heart-to-heart talk took. Christians were recognized by their non-Christian neighbors as different. They actually got along and didn’t try to kill or cheat one another. (That would come much later.) Not only did they take care of their own, they also helped the poor and needy around them.

Some of those early Christians had trouble disentangling their Jewish roots, however. They weren’t interested in picking any Gentiles for their team. Paul had to be blinded for three days to get there. Peter had to dream of forbidden food while he was famished, and then argue with God about what he should eat. After hearing the same thing three times (a common event with Peter – he must have been a slow learner), he finally figured out that maybe God was right. Then when his preaching caused Gentiles to start speaking in tongues, even he was impressed. Apparently his Jewish friends were, too. (As an aside, I’m not quite sure what I’d do if my preaching caused an outbreak of tongues, but it’s not something on my worry list.)

If it hadn’t been for Peter’s dream, there wouldn’t be pork chops for dinner, and most of us wouldn’t be Christians. We’d still be kicking up dust at the edge of the ball field. Yet once we were picked for the team, it was easy to forget those left behind. But those are people God still loves just as much as us. And that’s a lesson we never seem to learn.


Easter 5: Acts 11:1-18; Psalm 148; Revelation 21:1-6; John 13:31-35. The commentator mentioned above is C.K. Barrett, whose The Gospel According to John is still the only Greek commentary I know. Besides, I’m using my father’s copy, a first edition. The passage quoted is from page 337.