It is probably like being rich, famous, or attractive (thank heaven I am none of those). I imagine that people look at you with mercenary eyes if they know about your wealth or fame; no wonder celebrities are so peculiar. In fact, the oddity is when one isn't strange. People wouldn't approach you or spend time with you for the sake of getting to know you or because they were interested in you. You would never be sure, entirely, whether a new acquaintance made after the onset of wealth or success was genuinely your friend or was simply trying to exploit you for their own ends.
I wonder if Jesus was ever discouraged. He must have been tempted to become cynical, when blind beggars and lepers would cry out to him, "Rabbi, heal me! Have mercy upon me!" Here he was trying to spread the word that God's kingdom was at hand, that salvation and remission of sins was about to become available, that the irretrievable gap between humanity and Heaven was about to be bridged...and people came to him to get their temporal problems solved. "No, no, that's all right, Jesus," they said. "We're not interested in eternal life or any of that. But if you could just heal my crippled legs or bleeding problem, that would be wonderful. Is that agreeable?" It reminds me of a comedian who did a bit musing if Jesus was ever asked to use his carpentry skills in conjunction with his healing. "Yes, could you heal our son? And we'd love some new shelves." As ludicrous as it sounds, that's kind of the attitude that seems to permeate much of his ministry on earth. "Well, fine, that's great that you stepped out of deity to compress yourself into the form of a man, die of torture for no good reason, and rise again so that people could be saved from their sins, even though quite a lot don't want to be saved and don't even consider themselves sinners! But, focus, please: all we're after is the evening meal. Could you whip something up out of your bag of tricks?"
If you're at all like me, you being a modern, enlightened, well-read Christian who's acquainted with a great many theological texts and teachings probably look with magnanimous tolerance upon the ancient contemporaries of Jesus. "Yes, well, we mustn't judge them too harshly. After all, they weren't acquainted with all the facts that we posses. We don't take Jesus for granted nowadays." That smug satisfaction only lasts until a problem crops up. "Jesus, my leg is hurting. Jesus, I need a job. Jesus, I'm lonely. Jesus, did I mention that my health's not too good at the moment?" Hmmm, remind you of anything? Just to ease up the cannon-fire you may feel I am leveling at you, these are all prayers I have prayed in the last two months, some of them as late as yesterday.
And lest we forget, "Jesus, I need to be forgiven again." Disregard the Biblical debate of the necessity of this for believers; it's still a request we want Jesus to fulfill. Do you suppose that Jesus ever thought, I wish they'd want me for me. Not out of arrogance, though it wouldn't be on his part, or self-pity, but simple exasperation! I know they're needy, Father, but can't they ever stop thinking about themselves for five minutes' time?
But we really can't, can we? Even as I write this, I'm acutely aware of my lack, my poverty, my self-centeredness, my needs. I can't even forget them when I'm admonishing the Church for that very problem! How sweet are those moments when my heart and mind are fully transported to Jesus, the Father, and Their Spirit. Usually on Sunday mornings, but occasionally at random times. What a relief to forget about my issues and angst, and focus on who He is.
Am I, after all, any better than the friends who lowered their crippled buddy down from the roof? Or the nine lepers who forgot to say, "Thank you"?
