A riddle to begin with today. Can you answer this question? How do two porcupines hug one another? Very carefully! It’s one of those encounters in which, no matter how you approach it, somebody is likely to get hurt.
And we all know some porcupines. Any one of us can be a porcupine on any given day. Say the wrong thing, and somebody is insulted. Somebody feels put down. Somebody feels “dissed”. We all know porcupines; most of us are capable of being porcupines. Prickly, easily hurt, quickly insulted.
Easily hurt people are people who experience very little joy in life. Nothing is ever quite good enough. Everything seems to be a conspiracy to deprive them of esteem. People who are easily insulted take everything the wrong way, and seem to feel that no matter what you do or what you say, it was about them. It was about hurting them. There is very little joy in their lives. Oh, they may get a little joy out of nursing their hurt, but precious little.
A great deal of the world’s misery can be traced to this one thing: out on the mean streets, gangs kill because they perceive that someone has insulted them. Nations go to war because the symbols of their pride are disrespected; let someone burn a flag and see how quickly a nation can rise up in anger. Insults account for a great deal of the world’s misery.
You know, some say that church folks are easily insulted. Some argue that you have to be very careful around religious people, because they are particularly prone to feeling insulted. Well, I don’t know about that, although someone may have been leaving me a message. When I first came here nearly thirteen years ago, I found a little book on my desk; its title was, “How To Deal With Difficult People in the Church”. Maybe someone was sending me a message. I don’t know. I will leave it to your imagination as to whether I’ve read that book!
I do want to try out a theory on you today. I want to propose an idea about where the insulted personality comes from. Maybe we can analyze this prickly spirit and figure him out. And I also want to proclaim redemption from insults. I want not only to think with you about why some of us get insulted; better than that, I want to point you to a place where we can be redeemed from feeling insulted.
Let me begin with the theory, and then we are going to turn to the Bible and study a couple of folks to see if we can flesh out my theory.
Here’s the theory. Why do some of us run around feeling insulted and put down so much of the time?
First, if we hear an insult, our hearing it comes from our own insecurity. If we hear an insult, if we feel put down, it’s not so much what somebody else actually did or said. It’s our own stuff. It’s our own insecurity. If we feel put down, it’s not a question of what someone has said as much as it is a question of their tapping into our own insecurity.
Second, insecurity comes about because we don’t know who we are, deep down inside. We don’t know who we are, with integrity. You may have a role, you may have a reputation, you may have a name in the community. But if you are not comfortable with yourself, you will be insecure, and you will feel insulted. If we do not know who we are, our insecurity will take off and we will think we have to defend ourselves all the time. Insecurity comes from not really knowing who we are, with integrity.
And then, the third thing, not knowing who we are comes from not knowing God. Not truly understanding ourselves and our own worth comes from never having grasped the grace of a God who loves us unconditionally, a God who has taken us as His own, a God who embraces us to His own heart. If you’ve never experienced God’s love, you will neither love nor know yourself. If you have not, deep down, found that God loves you and accepts you unconditionally, you will never know your own heart. You will never accept your own heart. And you will be insecure. Thus you will be hurt and insulted at every turn.
Let me run through that theory again, this time forwards. I gave it to you backwards. But this time let’s go forward. And then on to the Scripture:
First, if we have never been grasped by the abounding grace of God, who loves us and accepts us without reservation, we will not know our own hearts and minds. We will feel at a loss. We will worry about whether we really measure up. We will be anxious. We will not know ourselves, if we do not know God.
Second, because we do not know ourselves, we will become insecure. If we do not know ourselves, if we cannot accept both our strengths and our weaknesses, just as they are, we will become insecure. We will get shaky. We will not know whether we are worth anything. We will not know whether others think we are worth anything. We will lose touch with our integrity. Because we do not know ourselves, we will become insecure.
Thus, finally, insecurity will make us defensive. We will imagine that this person or that person, is insulting us. We will see enemies where there are none. We will lie in wait, being suspicious that this fellow is trying to do us in and that person is trying to undermine us. On the job, at home, in the church, wherever we are, if we are insecure, we are easily insulted. We are miserable. All the joy is juiced out. We are wrung out, and there is no joy.
Not knowing God means we do not know ourselves with integrity; not knowing ourselves means we become insecure. And being insecure makes us susceptible to hearing insults and getting hurt. Now to the Scripture.
The high priests of Jerusalem were insulted. That this nobody, this itinerant preacher from the backwoods of Galilee was upsetting the people and making life tough for them was too much, really too, too much. And they reacted. They saw red. When Jesus spoke, it upset them. They were sure that Jesus was insulting them, disrespecting them. And they couldn’t take that. All they knew to do was to lash out when they heard that.
But remember: feeling insulted comes from being insecure. And being insecure comes from not knowing who you are. And not knowing who you are comes from not grasping the abundant grace of God.
Let’s talk about what we know of these two priests, Annas and Caiaphas. How would this theory fit them?
I
First of all, I see the high priests as insecure. And well they might be. Their position depended on Rome and on keeping in Rome’s good graces. Consider just a little bit of the history of this family of priests.
About the time that Jesus would have been a small boy, Annas had been installed as high priest by the Roman governor. But a few years later, he had been removed by the next Roman governor, and someone else had been made high priest in his place. A short time later, the Romans changed their mind and put a third priest in place. A year later, they changed again. And less than a year later, one more time. Now wouldn’t that make anybody feel a little insecure?
The fact is that several of these short-term high priests were sons of Annas, so that he had influence, even if he was not the actual high priest. And when we get to the time mentioned in John’s Gospel, his son-in-law, Caiaphas, is the high priest, so that Annas still has a role to play. He isn’t out of the picture. In fact, there is even the suggestion in the text that they may have traded around the top job year to year. He’s got a role. He’s got a position. What does he really have to worry about?
But Annas is nevertheless aware that he has to cozy up to the Romans in order to keep his job. Annas is aware that he has to play to the galleries in order to stay in power. And that makes him insecure. He is looking over his shoulder at everything, fearful that if Rome is upset, he will be put on the scrap heap. Annas cannot tolerate preachers who come to town with radical notions, upsetting the people, because that might make him look bad, and that’s all she wrote for his job. Insecurity makes Annas the high priest see insults everywhere.
Then the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching. Jesus answered, "I have spoken openly to the world; I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret. Why do you ask me? Ask those who heard what I said to them; they know what I said." When he had said this, one of the police standing nearby struck Jesus on the face, saying, "Is that how you answer the high priest?"
An insult! If in your insecurity you take it that way. But truth, if you are together enough to hear it. Insecurity means that we hear insults, whether or not they are intended.
I hear my own heart at this point. I hear my own heart and I need to confess this, for my own spiritual health as well as for yours. For several years around here I heard insults. I heard disparaging remarks. I heard them; do you understand? Whether they were intended or not, I heard them. I heard someone say, “You know, we’ve got a white pastor, they can’t preach.” I got insulted. I heard someone else say, “You are the laziest one person, all you want to do is preach on Sundays and draw your paycheck.” I felt insulted. I used to make up little gallows humor jokes about checking to see if my retirement account was doing okay, because I might need it soon. And then when I would visit people to enlist them for church membership, I would end up talking about tensions and problems and issues and about how I knew there were people who didn’t care for me, but I was trying hard, blah, blah, blah. Insecure!
But one day I woke up. I woke up to the knowledge that I didn’t have to worry about this job, because nobody was trying to take it away from me. I woke up to the knowledge that if there were a few insulting remarks out there, there were hundreds of appreciative remarks, and that I didn’t have to let myself be destroyed by the critics. I woke up to the knowledge that it was not that you were an insulting people, it was that I was an insecure pastor. And so, like Annas, I felt every now and again like lashing out. I felt defensive. The cure came when one day my wife said to me, “You are so afraid somebody is criticizing you. If you don’t stop seeing criticism every place you look, pretty soon they are going to have some real reasons to criticize you and then where will you be?” She woke me up to that insecurity; she liberated me to preach and to teach and to love and to work, and just not worry about what this one might say or that one might feel. Oh, insecurity, Annas! I know about that. It will rob you, all right. It’s not that it will rob you of your position. It will rob you of your joy. When you are insecure, you hear insults, and that will rob you of your joy.
II
But let’s probe a little deeper. I’ve argued that insecurity comes from not knowing who you are. It comes from not understanding your gifts. Insecurity comes from not accepting yourself and all that you are. Annas and Caiaphas, high priests of God’s Temple, did not know who they were. They did not know how to live in integrity. They only know how to live out of expediency and political necessity. They did not know their own minds; they had not seen their own hearts. All they knew to do was to calculate the angles. Did you catch this reference?
First they took [Jesus] to Annas, who was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year. Caiaphas was the one who had advised the Jews that it was better to have one person die for the people.
This passage refers to a moment in the 11th chapter of John, when Caiaphas says to his cohorts, “it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed." Cynical, hard-boiled, callous, he does not know authentic truth. He has lost sight of the value of human life. He can carelessly throw away the life of Jesus, for he no longer knows the value of anything. Caiaphas is like someone described so aptly by a novelist as knowing the price of everything but the value of nothing. He has lost sight of who he is and what truth is. He has lost sight of integrity.
This man is a priest of God. He of all people ought to know God’s values. But because he is insecure, he has forgotten how to look inside. It is too painful to look inside. He has forgotten what truly matters. All that counts is grasping power. All that matters is doing whatever it takes to hold on to power. People who do not know themselves do not live in integrity because they live only a role and not a life. Caiaphas lived the role of the high priest, but his heart was not priestly. He did not know his own heart. He knew only to defend his role.
Oh, friends, know this disease, this terrible sickness. It infects so many of us. This disease infects the White House, where a man who has everything the political system can give him risks it all for a frolic with Monica, because she flatters him and makes him feel even bigger than he is. He does not know his own heart with integrity.
This disease infects a Baptist leader, who today stands convicted of theft and fraud, because it was not enough to be a servant of God’s word. He played a role, he played the power broker role; he did not know his own heart with integrity.
This disease infects you and me, who cannot even stand up to our neighbors and speak a word of witness for fear that they might disparage us. We do not know our own hearts with integrity. Oh God, have mercy upon us! Have mercy upon us, for we are frail and fickle. We play roles but we do not know our own hearts with integrity.
Remember: if we do not know our own hearts, we will become insecure. And, having become insecure, we will see enemies everywhere and we will be insulted. The joy will be sucked right out of our lives, if we do not know our own hearts with integrity.
III
So finally, if we do not know our own hearts, that is because we have failed to grasp the most fundamental truth of all. We have not seen that God’s abounding grace has embraced us. If we do not know or trust our own hearts, it is because we have not yet seen the amazing grace and overarching love of a God who accepts us, just as we are. If only we knew how much God loves us, we would not worry so much about whether we measure up. If only we saw how much God loves us, we would not have to be consumed with anxiety about whether others respect us.
Annas, Caiaphas, I wish I could tell you that it’s not about the roles that you play. It’s about God’s love for you, just as you are. I wish I could tell the high priests of ancient Israel that it’s not about their titles or their positions, it’s not about the splendor of their robes or the dignity of their names. When they confronted this Jesus, talking about truth, they were insulted. They were insulted not only because they were insecure, and not only because they did not know their own hearts, but most of all they were insulted and profoundly threatened because they did not know God. They knew only a religious system. They knew only a spiritual heritage. They knew titles and history and tradition. But they did not know the living God Himself, who stood before them and spoke truth so clear it took their breath away. They got caught up in their dignity, but could not see that all our righteousness is as filthy rags.
They were like the young preacher who was trying so hard to preach with power and get a response, but it just wasn’t working. He couldn’t get any Amens from any corner. So he went up to Concord Baptist Church in Brooklyn to hear the great Gardner Taylor preach. He watched carefully everything the old man did. He noticed that when Dr. Taylor put on his preaching robe, he didn’t zip it up, he just let it sort of hang open. And so the next Sunday, the young preacher went into his own pulpit and unzipped his robe, letting it swing wide like Dr. Taylor’s. You know what happened, or what didn’t happen, don’t you? It’s not the robe, young man. It’s not the robe Dr. Taylor wore; it’s the Lord Dr. Taylor knew. It’s not the symbols and the trappings of authority; it’s the Lord we know and the Lord who knows us that makes us secure.
Men and women, when we wake up and see that the only thing that counts is God knowing us, God loving us, God accepting us .. when we wake up and see that, everything becomes possible. Insults don’t count any more. Joy becomes possible. What this world thinks of us fades into nothing, because we are children of God. His love for us is all that counts. What others say to us we can take in stride, because what our hearts hear is, “You are mine, and I love you." Think of it; what does it matter what others say if the Lord of the universe says, “You are mine, and I love you.” That’s all it takes. That’s the source of joy.
And how shall we hear this? How shall we know this? Just look at the cross. One the cross is one who was indeed insulted, but who opened not His mouth. On the cross is one who was despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Yet he hid not himself from shame and spitting. Surely, surely, he was wounded for our transgressions; he was bruised for our iniquities. We have one who has endured every insult, absorbed every blow, and all for us. All to love us. All to embrace us. All to give us joy.
On the cross is one who cared nothing for his image, but who:
made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.
On the cross is Jesus the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy .. for the sheer joy that was set before him .. endured the cross, despising the shame. Oh, he endured the insults, because He knew the love of the Father. And in Him and His cross is the love of the Father for you and for me. “No greater love has this, than a man lay down his life for his friends.” Herein is love, that he laid down his very life for us.
Oh, high priests, Annas and Caiaphas, I feel sorry for you, for you missed it. You blew it. High priests, there stood before you one who was truly a high priest who could be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; who was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. I feel sorry for you, Annas and Caiaphas, for you could have done what we can do. We can come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.
And when we do, when we see His cross, we know that we are loved. And being loved, we see our own worth. And seeing our own worth, we become whole and secure. And being secure, we no longer even hear any insults. We hear joy. We hear joy. Real joy, wonderful joy, true joy, for letting Jesus come into our hearts.
