Jeremy L. Berg

We continue our series of reflections on the portrayal of Jesus and the Gospels in the television series The Chosen. In episode 3, we have a charming scene of Jesus, who has yet to go public with his ministry, quietly setting up camp in the backwoods of the village of Capernaum. The neighborhood children discover him first, keep him a secret from their parents, and can’t wait to leave the house early each morning in order to spend all day with him. (The freedom of the children to run loose and the trust of the parents harkens back to childhood in the 70s-80s before the rise of helicopter parenting.)

[Listen to this week’s podcast reflection featuring Pastor Bill Johnson and Pastor Jeremy’s thoughts on this episode here.]

The writers of this series are very thoughtful and intentional, and this episode communicates many biblical and spiritual truths for us to ponder. We see Jesus’ full humanity on display for us to watch and emulate: building a fire, collecting wood, washing dirty and stinky feet, laughing one moment, distressed in prayer the next. Jesus, the Bread of Life, bakes his own bread; the Creator of the Sun, gently fans into flame a small campfire. Jesus is patient and approachable; flexible and willing to let his plans be interrupted by the children. Jesus invites others into his work, giving them a special role/task. And, of course, Jesus begins and ends and saturates each day with continuous prayer to his Father in Heaven.

Turning to the children, we observe their curiosity, openness, receptivity, and teachability. We see their excitement and availability to spend long hours with Jesus. They are ready to share in Jesus’ work and do whatever he instructs them. We admire their eagerness to go tell others about Jesus and invite them to meet him.

The episode has the local children providing Jesus with a “dry run” or “warm-up” routine before launching his public ministry and calling grown-up disciples to himself. The willing and receptive children will serve as a kind of foil for the mixed reactions Jesus will get from the grown-ups in the village. Jesus begins to teach the children themes that foreshadow conflicts to come with other scribes and teachers, for example, a non-violent and non-military Messiah.

I want to camp out for a minute (forgive the pun) on the rich image of Jesus’ setting up camp on the periphery of the village, and quietly moving his way into the center of our lives. Intentional or not, this episode powerfully dramatizes the deep and profound mystery of the prologue to John’s Gospel where “The Word became flesh and tabernacled (literally “set up his tent”) among us” (John 1:14). This points back to God dwelling among the Israelites in a portable tent all those years in the wilderness, a God who graciously wants to be known and provides a place and means to meet with Him.

Before long, Jesus will march up to the Great Temple in Jerusalem, and make the staggering claim, “Something greater than the Temple is here” (Matt 12:6) and warn that the entire thing could come crashing down and he would raise it up in 3 days referring to the new temple of his body.

In that little backwoods campsite, with children running errands and Jesus’ making toys, we have a glimpse of the God of the Universe “moving into the neighborhood,” as Eugene Peterson paraphrases John 1:14. The large, intimidating structure of the Temple is being replaced by a warm and jovial carpenter with blisters on his fingers and kindness in his eyes. Something greater than the cold stones of the Temple is sneaking into the Galilean village and making a campfire to warm ourselves by if we chose to join Jesus’ circle.

The same reality holds true today. Many need to know that something, or Someone, greater than Sunday services and church programs is here! Are we looking for God in the architecture of grand cathedrals, ancient liturgies, and doctrinal confessions, or in the still soft whisper to be found on a morning walk in the woods? We don’t need to choose between these options, but we do well to reflect that it was (and still is) the children who are most receptive to his Presence, and most children I know don’t hang out much in cathedrals and theology books.

Moreover, Jesus doesn’t usually impose himself on us, but prefers to kindle a small fire in the background of our lives and consciousness. He doesn’t grab a bullhorn and only rarely flips over tables in our hearts. He prefers to strike a small match — a passing thought, a brilliant sunset, an inner yearning — and waits for us to start fanning the flame together.

Do you have a special place where you can go to meet with this Jesus? What rhythms or prayers or spiritual habits make up the firewood in your soul, a circle of light and love where the Holy Spirit dances like the tongues of fire in the Upper Room at Pentecost? Will you spend some time meditating on and entering into this welcoming scene of Jesus camping in the backwoods of your soul, and go meet him there this week?

He waits quietly and patiently there for every person who would come with the openness, dependency and curiosity of a child, for “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matt 18:3). He likely won’t force himself into the rat race of our busy adult lives. Isn’t part of the message this episode the fact that all the adults are completely ignorant of his presence, so busy with all the business of life? But Jesus, in his great mercy, will keep kindling a warm fire, providing that warm loaf of the Bread of Life, and whispering the perennial invitation:

“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me” (Rev. 3:20).

And, hey, bring some marshmallows and a roasting stick when you finally answer his call. I bet Jesus would enjoy a S’more.