Posts Tagged: little kids

“Jesus’ Peace: The Gift that Keeps on Giving”

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”  (John 14:27 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version, https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#John_14:27)

As Jesus faced his arrest later that same night (and crucifixion the next morning), he is recorded as offering peace to his followers.  If this is even close to being correct, it is one of the most astonishing offers ever.

And the verbs in the Greek of John’s Gospel (the original language), are all in the present tense.  The Greek present tense does not usually mean “right now.”  Rather, the Greek present tense often suggests ongoing or continual action.  In other words, Jesus is continually giving his peace to his followers.  And therefore, Jesus-followers are not to be continually troubled and afraid.

On the other hand, I am often troubled and afraid.  Perhaps Jesus was lying.

No, I doubt that.  I think that the problem is that I am not following him very closely.

But I am somewhat comforted by the fact that Jesus had to tell his original followers not to allow their hearts to be trouble and afraid.  If Jesus had to say that to them, maybe it was because they were, in fact, troubled and afraid.

When I was little, I was really little.  I was one of the shortest kids in my class.  Only Terry Crawford was slightly shorter than me.  We were the front-row-corner kids in all our class pictures.  Also, I grew up in the country, and had almost no kids my own age to play with, so being around other kids my own age was intimidating, to say the least.  To say the most, it was terrifying.  When kids find out that you are easily intimidated, they tend to become even more intimidating.  Those who believe that young children are innocent are seriously out of touch with reality.

But when I was with my dad, I was not intimidated by anyone or anything.  My dad worked hard with his arms, and it showed.  He looked like the anvil at which I often watched him work.  Furthermore, he was a golden gloves boxer with a wicked left hook.  I could relax when I was close to my dad.

Maybe I should remember that Jesus has a wicked left hook.

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