Carrying the Cross at the Dinner Table - Matthew 10:34-39

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson, Matthew 10.

Last week, we heard Jesus speak of the difficulty of discipleship “out there” – out in the world. Today, Jesus takes discipleship and He brings it in the front door and into our living rooms, our dining rooms, and our bedrooms. He takes discipleship and the cross of discipleship and places it squarely in the family.

I have become a fan of the TV show BLUE BLOODS. The show follows four generations of the Regan family and their service to the city of New York as lawyers and police officers. I’ve had many people tell me they also like the show – not so much because it’s a cop drama, but because at the core of the show is a strong Christian family that sticks together through thick and thin. At least once each episode, the Regan family sits down together for a nine-person, four-generation family meal. Things happen, though, to the family – personal things, professional things, things that strain those family ties, stretching the almost to the breaking point. At times it’s the tension between policing the streets and the court of law; sometimes it’s the unease between the office of commissioner and street cop; occasionally it’s personal relationships and memories; often it’s sibling squabbles; every now and then, it’s the friction between generations. In that moment, tempers flare, words become fiery, and battle lines are drawn in the sand with slamming plates, shoved-back chairs, and people leaving the table before something irrevocable is said.

Perhaps you know that setting all too well. For you, though, it’s not how confessions are obtained from suspects that cause the troubles around the dinner table. For you, it’s because of your confession of faith in Jesus Christ, reading the Word of God, living a life of repentance and receiving the gifts given to you in your baptism. Someone in your family sees you as old-fashioned and out of touch. But it’s not just in your family – it’s Christian families across the globe. Someone in the family openly mocks those who bow their heads to pray over a meal. Someone in the family has embraced wicca, or Islam, or Scientology or some other religion says they are all viable ways to heaven. Someone in the family has embraced an alternative sexual lifestyle as being perfectly acceptable. Someone in the family denies their infant baptism. Someone in the family calls Christians judgmental hypocrites. Someone in the family has given up completely and says that there is no God and says you are wasting your time going to church.

For you, and for families like yours, your family dinner table is not so much divided by race or political party or whatever current topic is on the news - your family dinner table is divided because of Jesus.  These are all relatively minor in our country – hurtful, yes, but there are places where Jesus’ warning about cross bearing isn’t just a metaphor. In some countries, these dinner table confessions of Jesus are much more serious. Someone in the family calls the local authorities because mom or dad, sister or brother, husband or wife, son or daughter is a Christian and in that place, Christianity is illegal. In places like that, there is no First Amendment, there is no balanced trial, there is no public defender. I don’t need to tell you how those trials often end.

We are used to hearing Jesus say that He comes to deliver peace. The angels’ song at His birth declared Christ’s birth would bring “Peace on earth and good will among men.” He instructed the Twelve that they would be deliver peace to houses that receive them as servants of Christ. He delivered His promise to His disciples, “My peace I live with you, my peace I give to you, not as the world gives do I give.” We are used to hearing Him speak to frightened followers and to raging storm-tossed seas, “Peace.” In words and in actions, peace is delivered, peace is granted, peace is received. With Christ’s peace is restoration, wholeness, unity and harmony.

So when we hear Jesus speak, saying that He comes to bring not peace but a sword, it catches us off guard – it makes us stop and re-read. These are not the words we are used to hearing from Jesus. I’m sure it stunned the disciples, too. Not peace on earth, but a sword? Peace unites; swords separate. Peace heals; swords kill. Peace delivers harmony; swords bring punishment. A sword is not very Christ-like, is it? But He’s not done. Jesus says He will put man against father, daughter against mother, daughter-in-law against mother-in-law – so much so that family will become enemy!

We’re left in a conundrum - Where is the Jesus we know? Where is the word of peace that we expect? But at the same time, we must nod our heads and agree, “yes – this is true.” We agree, first, because it’s Jesus’ own word, but also we see it; we experience it in our own lives, in our own homes, in our own families: with Jesus, there is separation.

When Jesus speaks of these things happening, of bringing a sword, we must consider this word carefully lest we misunderstand Him. First, Jesus doesn’t mean a literal sword. Swords are left to governments to wield with God’s blessing as His representatives. Nor is Jesus starting a revolution, an insurrection, or a coup against Rome. Nor is He instructing the disciples – or the church for that matter – to take up arms and execute their 2^nd Amendment rights of personal defense.  He is speaking of the effect that the Gospel can have on those who reject the Good News of Jesus as Savior, the proclamation that the Kingdom is near.

It’s the wonderful juxtaposition of the truths of Jesus: on the one hand, His Word does exactly what it proclaims for sinful people. When the Word is spoken, it creates faith by the power of the Holy Spirit. When the Word speaks of peace, there is peace. When it speaks of forgiveness, sins are released. When it speaks of hope, there is future. When it speaks of grace, and mercy and compassion, these gifts abound and hearts overflow. When it the word proclaims life, death flees. When the word tells satan to go away, he runs in terror. The Word works. People hear Christ’s word that the Kingdom is near and, by God’s grace, they repent and believe.

On the other hand, the Word is completely resistible by sinful people. Others hear the very same word of Jesus but due to their own ingrained sin and sinful stubbornness, reject the Word that leads to salvation. When the Word speaks peace, a man can insist on continued separation. When the Word declares sins are forgiven, a woman can refuse to believe it is true - both for herself and for those who hurt her. When the Word speaks of hope, a daughter sees only gloom; when the Word speaks grace, mercy, and compassion, a son can insist on feeding anger, hurt, and revenge. When the word proclaims life, a dying fool laughs in mockery.

And, so, what was true in the Old Testament days of Micah when he proclaimed, “A son dishonors his father, a daughter will rise up against her mother, a bride against her mother-in-law, and the enemies of a man will be the members of his own house,” remain true still to this day. The conflict that arises within families over the name of Jesus is a tragically sad commentary on the sinful condition of people of all times. And even though Jesus’ word delivers faith, hope, and trust to those who love and follow Him, that same word results in conflict with those who refuse to repent and follow Christ alone. Jesus’ intent isn’t to divide, but division is the result, the effect, of the coming of Jesus and our following Him.

In those divided families, sooner or later, faithful people of God face the wrath and anger of the unfaithful. The message, whether literally stated or implied, is turn away from Jesus and do what I say instead. It’s exactly what Jesus warned would happen. And, sometimes in those moments, your faith-filled witness, even in the face of adversity, will win the brother, or sister, or mother-in-law, or father over for the sake of Jesus. At other times, the demands of the non-believing spouse or the faithless child will demand your conformity in ways that you simply, and sadly, must not comply. You are called to love Jesus more than your own flesh and blood.

The Good News is that Jesus knows what it is to carry a cross. Remember: He took up His own cross for you. He, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross and scorned its shame. He carried the cross when your son laughed at you for praying before eating a bologna sandwich. He carried the cross when your parents thought you going to church was a waste of your valuable time. He carried the cross when your stepbrother called you a Jesus Freak for not reading porn magazines. Jesus carried the cross when your own cousin reported you to HR as being too preachy in the breakroom. He carried it all for you, for the sins committed against you, for those who sought to hurt you in spirit, in mind, in body, in your life. This is the cross Jesus speaks of, the cross of following Christ even when unpopular with family. It might not be a cross that leads to your own death, but it will lead to heartache and pain. Yet, if you were to cave in and surrender to the demands of the faith-less family members, then you reject Christ and His word. In that, you also surrender the one true life that you are guaranteed. His resurrection victory shows you that what you endure this side of heaven, with your own crosses, is but temporary. In Christ’s resurrection, delivered to you in Baptismal water, and sealed with the sign of the cross, you have the promise of eternity with God through Christ.

 You heard it last week in the words of Jesus. Hear it again – this time, not for “out there,” but for in your own home, at your own family dinner table. Have no fear; do not fear; fear not. Speak boldly and confidently, but also lovingly and winsomely, of Jesus with your father and mother, sister and brother, son and daughter, and even mother in law and daughter in law, father in law and son in law. Speak of Jesus. Carry the cross. In those moments of cross-carrying, Jesus carries you. Amen.

Have No Fear - Matthew 10: 26-33

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

I was excited. It was my first day at the Seminary, day one of the four-year road to becoming a pastor. All day, I had talked, discussed, and translated with other pastors-in-training. All of us were filled with the excitement of ministry and the confidence that only first year students can have. 

That afternoon, my classmates and I were in an orientation session for what was being called field work, graduate-school level shadowing of a pastor in various ministry settings. Professor William explained that each quarter we rotate to a different ministry setting. A third of us would be shadowing chaplains, a third would be sent to congregations conducting evangelism programs, and the other third sent to inner-city ministries at homeless shelters, half-way houses, and, literally, on the streets.  

Chaplains in nursing homes, hospitals and prisons, Professor William said, need to be prepared to help answer faith-and-life questions like why is God making me sick, or is God mad at me, or can I be forgiven for what I did, or what happens when we die. He told us to watch and learn because a large part of pastoral ministry is visiting members and families in those places. “Remember,” he said with an excited tone, “you’ll bring the presence of Christ and His Word to those people in a time of crisis.”

His tone was contagious; we were excited. That sounded interesting – getting to talk to people with real questions in that place where faith and life intersect and sometimes crash together. The prison thing sounded a little spooky, but hey – that’s what guards are for, right? And some of us had never seen death before or sat with someone who was just diagnosed with a terminal illness – those made us a little uncomfortable, kinda curious how to do that kind of thing, but, still, we were excited.

Those of you heading into evangelism programs, he said, will meet a variety of people, some who really are curious about who God is, why Jesus had to die, or even what makes Christianity different from every other religion in the world. Others, he said, will be ugly and rude. You’ll have doors slammed in your faces, you’ll be laughed at and called ugly names. You might have great conversations like Paul at Athens and clearly speak of Jesus; other times all you can do is walk away and go to the house next door, knock on the door, and try again. “But,” he said as his voice rose, “like the shepherd who rejoices over one sheep who is returned to the flock, you will prayerfully keep searching to bring that one soul back to Christ.”

Ok, so the excitement faded a little and we became a bit nervous. Most of us had never had that experience of person-to-person faith discussions outside of controlled settings like workshops and classrooms. We had never had a door slammed in our face, or laughed at for being a Christian. But we were smart, educated, and Biblically literate – we could figure it out, and besides, we were going in pairs so we could tag-team if need be.

“And then,” he said, “there are those of you who will be going to the inner city of St. Louis. If you’ve never been to a major city before” – and there were plenty of us who had not been exposed to what real inner city looks like – “not every church has a manicured lawn and fresh paint, and you will realize how vast and broad and unique the body of Christ really is.” His voice dropped a half-octave. “What does it look like to be the church in a place where gangs, drugs, and drive-by’s terrorize God’s people. How do you preach love, mercy and compassion in a place often ruled by hate, revenge, and anger and  where languages, skin color, and nationality divide and separate. He paused for a few seconds, then added, “I advise you to wear your clerical collar, wear no jewelry but your wedding ring, and only have your drivers license on you – no wallet, no cash, no cards. You might get hassled or mugged, but we’ve never had a student seriously hurt before.”

You could have heard a pin drop.  Reality hit like an ice bucket challenge. Watching people die in hospitals? Doors slammed in our faces? Robbery? Drive-bys? Gangs? Mugging? Speaking for myself, I hadn’t bargained for any of those things. Is this what ministry involves, what discipleship entails, what it means in real flesh and blood – emphasis on blood – flesh and blood terms to follow Jesus?

Now, I tell you this story knowing that chances are that you will not serve as a chaplain in a hospital or prison. You may never sit in DeLeon plaza with a sign, “Ask me about Jesus.” You might never experience praying with Christian refugees from Syria or worship in a church with bullet-scarred walls in a metropolitan inner city. But it is tempting to let those same fears that gripped my mind and heart in that seminary classroom cross our minds and allow satan to suck away our joy, our excitement and our desire to share the Good News of Jesus. 

We say we don’t want to offend our coworker. In reality we don’t want to risk a visit with HR. We say we don’t want to seem holier than thou to a classmate. Truthfully, we’re worried of what classmates may say about us behind our backs. We say we don’t want to embarrass our friend who doesn’t go to church. Actually, we’re concerned a friend might be embarrassed by us. We say we don’t want to talk about Biblically divisive issues with our adult children. Truth be told, we’re afraid our kids will stop visiting us because we’re “too religious.” We’re so afraid of saying “Christ alone” that we instead surrender to the fears, the worries, the seemingly insurmountable worldly message that’s around us and we play the part of the three monkeys: say nothing, hear nothing, see nothing.

That evening in Seik Hall, Professor William cleared his throat. He was standing, Bible in his hands. “Gentlemen,” he said, “Have no fear.” Then he read from Matthew’s Gospel:

“So have no fear of them, for nothing is covered that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. What I tell you in the dark, say in the light, and what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But even the hairs of your head are all numbered.  Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. So everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 10:26-33)

“I want you to notice three things,” Professor William said that September evening. “Jesus says, ‘have no fear,’ ‘do not be afraid,’ and ‘fear not.’ That must be pretty important, huh?” he said. “Have no fear of those who oppose you because they aren’t opposing you but God. Do not fear those who might hurt your body.  The worst thing that can happen to you is they take your life, but that will not destroy your relationship with the Father. Fear not, for you are of greater worth than many sparrows. If God shows concern for sparrows, two purchased for a half-hour’s work, seemingly so unimportant that He knows if one falls to the earth, then how much greater is His love for His children. Do not fear, for Christ has already won you the eternal victory, delivered to you in your Baptism. He has gone ahead; you follow. Do not fear.”

“Have no fear… Do not fear… Fear not…” Those are Jesus’ words to His disciples as they were entering the world, and those words – echoed down through the centuries – still ring in the ears of the body of Christ as we live in the world today. Everyone knows the Great Commission, right? “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey all things I have commanded you.” We remember Jesus promise that He will be with us to the end of the age. But do you know why that Commission is so great? Do you know why that blessing is able to be given? It’s the sentence prior: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” Because all authority is His, He tells us to have no fear, to not fear, to fear not. And because all authority is His, we will have no fear, we will not fear, we will fear not as we live in this world, confessing the name of Jesus with those around us. 

And, if fear sneaks it’s subversive way into your heart and mind, repent. If you surrender and, instead of speaking out you hush up, repent. If you turn the other way instead of standing boldly for the name of Jesus, repent. Repent of your fear and turn in faith to Jesus and confess your fears to Him. He endured the terror of the cross for you. He takes the burden of your guilt and your shame from you so you are able to live in freedom and are able to confess Christ again.

Does this mean we won’t have difficulties, that we won’t face evil because we are disciples of Jesus? No; it does not. What Jesus’ thrice-repeated “do not fear” means is this: when – and please note, I said when, not if – when difficulties, or persecution, or prosecution, or even martyrdom comes, are always and fully under the Father’s divine, loving, Baptismally-drenched care. He is with us whether we are stand, suffering in front of family who rejects, friends who mock, employers who threaten, governments who punish, or even at death’s door. Know this: in those moments, God has not and will not abandon you. He abandoned His Son, Jesus, at the cross so that He would never have to abandon you in your moment of greatest need.

It doesn’t seem to make sense – that if God is faithful and present in His Word and through His servants, why is that message rejected? It’s the irony of God’s love: He offers it freely and He will coerce no one. The gift can be received in faith and rejected in denial. Rest assured, even in those moments of rejection God is at work in you, for you and through you. The Father has not, and He will not, overlook His little ones who suffer. Even that suffering, God uses for the glory of His name. He will strengthen you through the power of the Holy Spirit. And, on the Last Day, the Truth will be made perfectly clear and no longer hidden, and then their opposition to the Gospel will be made known.

So, my friends, “Have no fear… Do not fear… Fear not…” When given the opportunity, speak boldly and truthfully in the name of Jesus. I leave you with the words of Professor William – well, actually, they’re not his words at all. They belong to Someone else.

“Have no fear… Do not fear… Fear not…”

In the name of Jesus. Amen.,

I Hope Your Guts Hurt - Matthew 9:35 - 10:8

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson from Matthew 9.

You are probably familiar with IQ tests. IQ stands for Intelligence Quotient. It’s one way to try to quantify a person’s relative intelligence – in other words, to try to determine how smart one might potentially be. It’s not a perfect instrument, of course, but it’s been the gold standard for decades.

Lately, however, educators, psychologists, psychiatrists and sociologists have come to realize that there is more to life than just intelligence. A new term was used called emotional intelligence, usually abbreviated as EQ to make it parallel with IQ. This is used to not so much measure raw intellectual power but rather the ability of a person to see what is happening in other people around them, to read their emotions and have an empathetic response to them.

Empathy. You’ve probably heard that term before. Empathy comes into English from the German word Einfühlung. Literally, einfühlung means ‘feeling into’ – it’s the idea that you are feeling what someone else is feeling, perhaps not to the depth of breadth of their emotion, but you are at least tracking along with them. You have empathy if you see someone experiencing joy, or sadness, or fear and you likewise have a measure of joy, sadness, or fear along with them. It involves, first, seeing someone else’s situation from his perspective, and, second, sharing his emotions, including, if any, his distress. Empathy is good; it is important to help us gain another person’s perspective, to walk a mile in their shoes and gain some understanding of their zitsenleiben – another good German word - their place in life.

You may be more familiar with the word sympathy. Sympathy and empathy are not the same thing; they are quite different. Sympathy literally means “feeling along with.” It’s a feeling of care or concern for someone, but it stops short of putting yourself in their place. It implies distance. There is no shared emotion, only a personal reaction to what someone else is going through.

Then, of course, there is their close cousin pity. Pity focuses on what you feel, your discomfort and displeasure at the yuckiness you see. Pity acknowledges a situation but is quick to move on – after offering a condescending comment or two. If sympathy implies distance, pity demands separation.

Brene Brown, professor at the University of Houston, explains these words this way: Empathy says I see that you are hurting and scared. Let me sit with you so you’re not alone. Sympathy says yep, you’re in a real pickle here. Well, it could be worse. Cheer up. Pity says you really made a mess of things. What did you do to be so bad off?

So, why the lesson in sociological and psychological terms, huh? Glad you asked.

Jesus is traveling around from village to village, city to city, and everywhere he goes he is teaching, preaching and healing. What he discovers, time and time again, is that the crowd is harassed and helpless. St. Matthew uses a comparison that we can imagine, if not fully understand, saying that they were like sheep without a shepherd.

Shepherdless sheep are in a dangerous situation. Without someone to watch them, sheep are all too soon turned into sheep stew by a pack of marauding wild dogs. Without someone to guide them, sheep wander into thorny bushes that grab them by the wool and refuse to let them go, or wade too far out into the water where their wool drags them under and they drown. Without someone to direct them, sheep will literally eat themselves sick on fresh green grass. Without someone to calm them, sheep startle and spook, running willy-nilly until they are hopelessly, helplessly lost – easy pickings for a dishonest man looking to add another animal to his herd or some fresh meet to the family dinner table.

That’s the point of comparison. The people were a congregation without a pastor – not because the pastors weren’t there. Oh, no – they were there, alright. All of the people whose responsibilities include caring for the eternal souls and welfare of the people, feeding them God’s Word, blessing them with His name, imparting and delivering the gifts of God day in and day out, praying and interceding for them – all of these shepherd-pastors stood by and abandoned their flocks to be consumed by the wolves and bears and lions of the devil, the world, and their own sinful flesh.

And, meanwhile, as the sheep were devoured one by one by being led to take their eyes off of the promise of the coming Messiah, now fulfilled in Jesus, the shepherds got fat and sassy. They debated the fine intricacies of the Law and argued ways people were guilty of breaking the Law…all the while holding themselves up as high, and great, and holy men. They proffered themselves as near divine with practically sinless lives all the while looking down their pharaisaical noses at sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes. Instead of having compassion of their own for these people of God, these sheep, who were wandering and in danger of being forever lost and damned, they passed by, lest they dirty themselves in the process. They were compassion-less for those who needed compassion.

Jesus sees the crowds and their sheep-like situation. What does He do?

Well, he could have had pity on them. “Poor people,” he could have said. “If you had only paid attention to all of the prophets that my Father sent you, you wouldn’t be in this mess.” He could have had sympathy. “Yeah, you’ve got a real situation here. You need to figure something and find someone to lead you out but, hey, at least you have each other.” He could have had empathy. He could have wandered around with them, listening to their concerns while also feeling lost and empty, just like them.

But He doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, He has compassion on them. The Greek word for compassion is splancthon. In ancient literature, the word was originally used to describe the guts of an animal, but it came to mean the feeling you have in your guts when you see something. But it’s more than just a gut feeling. Compassion is a visceral reaction, meaning your guts hurt and you have to respond. Compassion is mercy put into flesh-and-blood action. But compassion also means getting dirty, getting down on someone’s level where they are. Compassion moves you from inaction and into action and it leads you in the dirt – figuratively or literally – down in the ditch in the dust or the muck. Compassion inserts you into their pain, in their misery, whether it’s in the unemployment office, in Christ’s kitchen, at the death-bed, or in the funeral home as they stare down the valley of the shadow – getting down eyeball to eyeball with them and be with them in that hard, difficult place and time. Compassion puts you on their level. Compassion says “I’m not better than you…I’m with you, and I won’t let you be alone, and I will help you in this.” Compassion is visceral.

Jesus has compassion. He isn’t some distant, far-off and aloof Divinity. This Jesus is God-in-flesh, perfect God who comes to dwell among His own dear people. This same Jesus, who was with God from the beginning, now stands as a man among people and what He sees hurts.  His pain is so deep that His guts hurt.

Remember: He’s been performing miracles all through Capernaum and the surrounding area. Go back and read the three chapters prior to this morning’s Gospel lesson. He’s been busy: from healing Peter’s mother in law, to calming the storm threatening to sink the disciples’ ship, to raising Jairus’ daughter from the dead, Jesus acted with mercy. But, St. Matthew never says that these things – not even the death of the little girl – caused splancthon, compassion, His guts to hurt.

But the shepherdless people whose pastors failed them, they make Jesus’ guts hurt. So, Jesus reacts and demonstrates His compassion. But how Jesus demonstrates compassion might be a bit surprising.

He tells His disciples to pray. Isn’t that remarkable?  He tells them to pray to the Father that He sends out workers into the harvest field.

And, then to further demonstrate His compassion, He sends out the 12 disciples – for the first time identified as apostles, meaning “sent ones” – out into the harvest field. They are to be instruments and vehicles of His compassion, delivering it to those who were shepherdless. “And He called to Him His twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every disease and every affliction.” The miracles they perform, the raising from the dead, the exorcisms, and the healing will all be demonstrations of His power, yes – but more than that, of His compassion.

Yet, His compassion is found, chiefly, not in miracles, or exorcisms, or even the raising from the dead in this life. His compassion is found in the cross. The Kingdom is at hand, Jesus said – the time for His Cross is drawing closer. Because of His great compassion, He will suffer and die and rise for the entire world. His guts will hurt – so much so that he sweats great drops of blood. But it’s not just his guts…it’ll be his back from the whips, and his face from the slaps, and his head from the crown of thorns, and his spirit…his spirit as He realizes that even His Father in heaven has abandoned him in the face of hell on earth as the entire sin-filled burden of the world is emptied out upon Him. He takes it all, out of His great compassion for you.

Ours is a world that needs compassion now, more than ever. Our problems in society, they’re not about black or blue, brown or white, rich or poor, inner city or out in the country. It’s that people are acting like sheep without the Good Shepherd. So, demonstrate Christ’s compassion to anyone and everyone. In His compassion, pray for those around you. In His compassion, speak the name of Jesus without shame and without bashfulness. In His compassion, confess the truth that there is salvation in no other name under heaven. In His compassion, be bold to invite those who are like sheep without a shepherd to the fold so that they, too, may receive the compassion of Jesus in Word and Sacrament.

This week, I pray your guts hurt for others. And, as your guts hurt, I pray you are filled by the Spirit of God with compassion to show them Jesus.