The human he.

Perhaps he is not sure how to get all of this done.

The human he.

The weeping he.

The he that feels and takes on all of the pain, all of the doubts, all of the fears of the disciples and tells them, do not be afraid.

Perhaps he is not sure how to fit the pieces of the puzzle all together into one coherent picture.

Perhaps he does not always know how to find balance in the midst of so much stuff to do, so many places to be.

Perhaps he knows of that one place of the many where he knows he will have to be.

Perhaps he knows soon he will arrive in Jerusalem, soon he will meet the crowds and step on coats and ride donkeys.

He is bound for the hilltop.

He is bound for death.

He is bound for resurrection.

And through all of this, perhaps the human he can sometimes find himself judging or making quick decisions, too quickly and in haste.

He knows where he will have to be.

He knows too, now, where he is.

They know, too.

First they knew of him, and now they truly know him.

They know he is radical.

They know he is gathering the large crowds, the people they want to lead, to bring into community, to join them in dreams and daring.

They fear of losing that sense of community, that again they will be subsumed by the occupier or even exiled to Rome.

So, they make laws and adhere to rules that will forever keep them Jewish, forever keep them together as one, forever keep whole.

And he knows them, too.

He knows they are following him.

They are challenging him.

They are trying to trap him into saying things and doing things that would cause him to break the law.

They ask him to whom should they pay tribute, the emperor who occupies or the God who commands.

He answers their questions adroitly.

He faces their challenges daily.

He weaves through the traffic of their queries; the winding paths of justice and God.

For he too wants to keep the people together.

He too, the holy he and the human he, wants all his people to be in community, to be like those who dream when they, all of them, all of us, arrive once more as Zion.

So he answers.

And answers.

And answers.

To question.

After question.

After question.

Because of them and despite them.

Because he just wants to carry on for another day.

Because he knows he must survive until he reaches Golgotha.

Until the end.

And until the end becomes the beginning.

So, he answers what they ask.

He is so very tired.

He is so very exhausted.

Maybe even quietly, whispered from a place of frustration or fatigue, he again answers their questions.

“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”

He hears the question.

He listens to the question.

Maybe he pauses.

Maybe he draws in the dirt as he is sometimes wont to do.

In the stony desert air, he replies, “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’

The questioners know this part.

This is Deuteronomy.

They know this book of Moses for it carries with it the law and they know the law.

And then he does something a bit differently.

Or maybe even unexpected.

He adds in a bit of Leviticus, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’

They know Leviticus, too.

They hold to the law set before us in Leviticus.

And he concludes, “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

From the ancient words first spoken then written into the very scrolls of they study, Jesus found something new and a new way to say it.

Love God.

Love each other.

Love God.

Love your neighbor.

Love God.

Love those hardest to love.

Love God.

Love the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the Herodians.

Love God.

Love your enemy.

From exhaustion comes clarity.

He answered their question well.

He then asks them a question.

He turns the tables so to speak yet still other tables will be turned by him later on.

Later.

In Jerusalem.

He asks his inquisitors a question.

Of who is the Messiah born?

Whose son is he?

They were unable to answer the question.

And on that day, the questioners were silenced.

And on that day, Jesus, the holy he and the human he lived one more day.

One more day without arrest.

One day closer to Jerusalem.

One day closer to Calvary.

Friends, I want you to place yourselves in this scene.

It doesn’t have to be in the Middle East, but I want you find a comfortable position in which to sit.

And I want you to focus on all that which is bothering you, all those things you have to do.

If your pew is uncomfortable, feel uncomfortable.

If your mind wanders towards things that are yet to come, tasks you need to complete, let it wander.

Take on all of those things that trouble you in this moment, in this hour, on this day, and let them trouble you.

Then stop.

Pause.

Breathe.

And ask yourself, in the midst of all that I have to do, all that distracts me, all that bothers me, what is most important.

From that place of distraction, know this.

Understand this.

From beating heart find a rhythm that says, “Love God, love your neighbor.”

“Love God, love your neighbor.”

“Love God, love your neighbor.”

Because, friends, that is first.

Love is first.

And still, we need to live with these commandments.

In our distracted lives and from our distractedness must flow love.

That is the greatest commandment.

That is the surest law.

Because, sometimes, I am not sure how to get all of this done.

I am not always sure how to take on the pain of others and provide solace.

I am not always sure how replace doubt with faith.

I do not always know how to say do not be afraid when I carry fear myself.

I am not sure how to fit the pieces of the puzzle all together into one coherent picture.

I do not always find balance in the midst of so much stuff to do, so many places to be.

I can sometimes find myself judging or making quick decisions, too quickly and in haste.

And still I must pause.

We must pause.

And draw pictures in the dirt before responding to all that hassles us, all that troubles us, all that saddens us, with love.

Respond with love.

And just love.

Fully.

Wholly.

Without end.

Just as we are loved by God fully, wholly, and without end.

Know this, friends, just as Jesus was on the road to the cross, we too are on the road to salvation.

Along with that salvation and indeed because of it, we must love.

We must love God and each other.

Love that beloved neighbor and that neighbor that is kind of meh.

Love because we are loved.

Love because even though it is hard to love, we are made strong by love and so it will always be possible to love.

These are the greatest commandments.

Distilled into two laws, with but only one word being necessary.

Love.

Amen.

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Jacob’s baptism