They Didn't Get It

For three and a half years, these men walked with Jesus, ate with Jesus, listened to him talk, share stories, preach.  It wasn't a once in a week, for an hour-- it was every day, sometimes 24/7.  They camped out and slept under the stars and in peoples homes.  When you go through that with someone, you really get to know the other person.

Yet, when Jesus was crucified, these people still didn't get it.  He had told them what was coming.  He told them straight out.  He told them in allegory.  He prepared them, yet still they didn't get it.

I think I have a tenancy to hear what I want to hear.  To see what I want to see.  Simon the Zealot probably was thinking all this talk about a new Kingdom was finally about to happen-- that's what Jesus was talking about... "The Kingdom of God is at hand."  Must mean it's time to overthrow those pesky Romans.  (What did they ever do for us?  Well, they did build the aquaduct... oops, I digress, and if asked, I never saw that movie.)

Peter was told straight up that he would deny Jesus three times that very night.  Yet he didn't get it.  Jesus said he would be dead for three days.  Tear down this temple and in three days I'll rebuild it.  But did any of the twelve recall this when he died on the cross?  I'm sure it was a three day gut check for the boys.  They hid wondering if every footstep outside was one coming to take them to a gruesome death.

So today, I haven't physically spent that kind of time with Jesus, but in my arrogance, I consider myself clued in.  That I have a corner on the Truth.  "They didn't get it, but at least I do."  When I think about the twelve, brings back a little reality check, and as I've written about in the past, understanding my true identity is real humility.

I'm not as clued in as I think I am.