John 7:5 Extraordinarily Ordinary

For even his own brothers did not believe in him.

John 7:5 NIV

Imagine those closest to Jesus — his mom, dad, and brothers. Although they initially did not choose to follow him like the disciples, they had a unique front-row seat to observe the ordinariness of Israel’s messiah. Jesus’ public ministry to Israel began when he was about 30 years old. But the presence of God was within him since his birth. Israel had the symbolic Ark of the Covenant in the temple. Mary and Joseph’s family had the real Ark of the Covenant in living flesh. They observed the presence and goodness of God every day in the innocence, vulnerability, and authenticity of a family member who had not experienced sin or personal shame. There are so many stories people could imagine about his childhood years. One thing is certain, they looked a lot like regular, normal life.

Family life for Jesus could be considered unique for Jesus in a few ways. His brothers were younger than he was and played with friends the same age in their neighborhood. Jesus’ potential playmates had been murdered by Herod. I’m curious what his siblings did with the stories their family and friends told of this slaughter—how they made sense of it, and why Jesus was one of the few survivors? And from another perspective, what did Jesus do with it? He was perfect in empathy — did he grieve over how many lost their lives because of him? Yet, even in these odd circumstances, the family stories, the honesty, kindness, and goodness seen in Jesus, it was still a considerable leap for them to believe he is the Messiah.

The gospels do not say much other than at twelve years old he unexpectedly stayed in the temple in Jerusalem as his parents journeyed home. Then Luke adds: “And Jesus kept increasing in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and man.” But the one thing that stands out is that he was normal enough and looked enough like everyone else that their inflated view of what the Messiah would do and be did not align with the man Jesus that they knew all too well. He was not a fighter, embittered against Rome, ready to lead a revolt and restore the very imperfect nation of Israel to some sort of prominence. They did not believe.

Yet, they lived and breathed around the living Word. They were physically the closest—yet they still missed seeing him! If his family was not persuaded, what should I and others expect? There is something about familiarity that inhibits faith. Even Jesus acknowledged it. After recounting a parade of miracles to John’s disciples, Jesus said:

And blessed is he who keeps from stumbling (or taking offense) at me.

Matthew 11:6 NASB

Yet, many were still stumbled. In John 6 after the miraculous sign of food being multiplied, others said:

Therefore the Jews were grumbling about Him, because He said, “I am the bread that came down out of heaven.” They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How does He now say, ‘I have come down out of heaven’?”

John 6:41-42 NASB

When he returned to the town in which he grew up and spoke in the synagogue in Nazareth:

And all were speaking well of Him, and wondering at the gracious words which were falling from His lips; and they were saying, “Is this not Joseph’s son?” …and He said, “Truly I say to you, no prophet is welcome in his hometown.”

Luke 4:22,24 NASB

The crowds promptly took him to the edge of a cliff to throw him off!

There are many things which color my personal view of Jesus today — most notably my self-appointment as a Connoisseur of all things Related to Faith in Christ. (Does such a position even exist?! — Not really, but it’s easy to set myself up as judge of the good and the bad among people that believe — and quickly try to point out everyone else’s error.) If I were to time-travel back to Palestine, I’d surely be able to identify Jesus and see him for who he is, right? The challenge I have every day is to cease projecting my view of who I think Christ is into all that I read and encounter and instead allow the Holy Spirit, the family of God, real-life experiences, and fellowship with the living Son inform me of who my incredible Savior is. Although my new Spirit DNA compels me into his image, sometimes I get this backwards and fashion him into who I think he should be.

The Jews’ view of the Messiah fell into this same trap. Here was the actual Messiah, yet few could recognize him. Why? They wanted him fashioned into their image and according to their expectation.

Familiarity breeds contempt. Or as someone famous once said: A prophet does not receive honor in his own town or country.

What if in reality I am touching, tasting, encountering the divine every day? What if I am experiencing the supernatural, the signs of God, the proof of his existence, the promise of my future, today — but miss it because — it looks so familiar? At my core, I consider myself ordinary. Oh, maybe I’m slightly more achieving and capable in some things, and much less in others, but the degrees are really inconsequential. And in my old man’s ongoing quest to cast everyone and everything into my image, I come to the conclusion that that which I am encountering could not be any more significant than plain old ordinary me. What if instead every morning I woke up and hit the reset button and I saw the sunrise as a miracle? My body and its marvel of organization and complexity as a wonder as I take every breath? The planets, seasons, ecosystems, depth of emotions and joy that I feel as traits which reveal my Father? When I look at my wife, I see in her the love and tenderness that my good God has given as a gift to me every day. Holding hands as we fall asleep, I feel the presence of God close in this woman. We reflect the image of God as the body of Christ. So many ordinary yet extraordinary things. I heard a preacher once say, “When you eat a chicken dinner, don’t swallow the bones.” In other words, there is good, and nourishment aplenty, the breadcrumbs of God’s presence is everywhere, but don’t be stumbled if you have to distinguish between what nourishes and what doesn’t. Just remove the bones. Don’t disqualify Christ because he must use the restroom like the everyone else. Or if he sneezes, and you are annoyed at the way it sounds. Or dislike his hair because it isn’t groomed very well.

With spirit eyes I may see the amazing. And rather than mold what I see into a perspective that is purely mine (my box is a very nice box) allow the Holy Spirit to unfold what my vision by itself is unable to. When John was baptizing and saw Jesus approach, his spirit eyes saw, “the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world!” But later in prison, he sent his disciples to ask, “Are you the one?” Jesus still called him the greatest born among women. If John suffered lapses in his vision, then I and others should expect the same.

The reality is that I am unable to see clearly until the Holy Spirit clears up my vision. Just like Jesus’ brothers could not see what Peter saw, (“You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God!” Matthew 16:16) I cannot see unless my Father opens my eyes.

I find deep reassurance in what Jesus foretold about the future — and I believe his brothers did as well:

However, when He, the Spirit of truth, has come, He will guide you into all truth; for He will not speak on His own authority, but whatever He hears He will speak; and He will tell you things to come. He will glorify Me, for He will take of what is Mine and declare it to you. All things that the Father has are Mine. Therefore I said that He will take of Mine and declare it to you.

John 16:13-15 NKJV