Consider these words of what Simon the Zealot might say to us today:

“Why did God’s Son ask me to join his band of followers? My very presence put the entire mission in jeopardy. The Romans thought of me as an enemy who plotted against their government. Why would Jesus take the risk of associating with me?

My name is Simon. They called me Simon the Zealot, which distinguished me from Simon Peter. You recognize my name as one of the twelve disciples. But beyond my inclusion in the lists of disciples, your Scriptures make no other reference to me. Not a single word of mine is ever recorded. As you will learn, that may be a good thing.

I was a member of the group of people known as the zealots. Our movement among the Jewish people was driven by our distrust and disgust of Roman rule. Submitting to Caesar was nothing short of idolatrous, so we were steadfast in our resolve to prepare the way for our Messiah to set up his kingdom. Toward that end, we created problems for the Romans at every opportunity. Now you understand why the Romans hunted people like me and why I put Jesus and his disciples in danger by my very presence.  

One especially degrading tool that the Romans used to subjugate us was to tax us. Why should we pay money to Caesar, when only God was worthy of our allegiance? To make matters worse, the Romans employed some of our own Jewish brothers to collect their taxes. That was the final straw. We had to stop this blasphemous practice of Jews taxing fellow Jews to fill the coffers of Rome. As a member of the zealot party, I was willing to use violence against these Jewish tax collectors who sympathized with Rome and betrayed their own people.

Into this rancorous world entered a carpenter from Nazareth. When Jesus tapped me to join his group, he looked at me like he knew me. I figured that he had heard of my passion for Jewish independence. I accepted his invitation, thinking that it might be an opportunity to meet like-minded people. At the very least, Jesus had a certain charisma about him that evoked trust and confidence, and such traits could be useful in our zealous mission against Rome.

I will never forget when I first met the other disciples. There were two sets of brothers who were fishermen by trade, along with several other men who seemed to listen to the fishermen. And then, it happened. Jesus introduced me to Matthew, but Matthew did not need an introduction. I already knew him all too well. He worked the tax booth along a road through town. The Romans knew that the right kind of person to sit in the tax booth was one who was willing to turn against his own people for money. I was staring straight into the eyes of my enemy, a mercenary who took money from the faithful and gave it to the sinful.

Why would Jesus involve both of us in his work? After all, He knew the hostility between us. As a zealot, it took everything I had to restrain my violent impulse. How could Jesus think it a good idea to have political enemies on the same team, much less working together side by side? What was he thinking?

There were times when I thought Jesus was leaning to my side of the Roman debate, especially when he talked about the kingdom. There was the time when he said, “…the kingdom of God is in your midst” (Luke 17:21). I felt sure that he was declaring himself to be the heart of our coming kingdom. And when he sent us out on missions, he instructed us to say, “…The kingdom of God has come near” (Luke 10:11). And to this day, you regularly quote his words about prayer, “Your kingdom come, your will be done…” (Matthew 6:10). Zealots understood kingdom talk.

At other times, Jesus sounded the opposite of a zealot. He said things like, “…If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also” (Matt. 5:39). This passive strategy was certainly not going to defeat Rome. And then he would say, “…love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt. 5:44). It felt like he was directing that at me. One time Jesus said, “…give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s” (Matt. 22:21). Of course, Matthew would include these words in his book. Do you remember what we were doing when Jesus told that famous story about the prodigal son? We were having dinner with tax collectors. Imagine a zealot breaking bread with a tax collector! Times like these made me wonder why Jesus had ever asked me to come along.

All the while, Matthew and I held our fragile truce. I kept the faith that Jesus would be the victorious leader who would end Roman oppression once and for all. He would then deal with Matthew appropriately. Even when Jesus went to the cross, I was sure that he was going to call down his army of angels to set us free. But it did not happen. When Jesus died, so did my anticipation of crowning him king of the new kingdom. My Messiah was gone.

You know what happened next. Three days after he died, he appeared in the room where we were hiding! I had renewed hope that he might still have a plan to lead us miraculously as the conqueror over Rome. After all, the victor over death could surely defeat the Romans.

We asked him directly, “…Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom of Israel?” (Acts 1:6) That turned out to be our final question. He left us again, ascending into the heavens. I did the only thing I knew to do. I went back with my friends to Jerusalem. And together, we prayed.

During our prayers in that room, my eyes were opened as to why Jesus had asked me to follow him. I finally understood why I had traveled these last three years with this group, one of whom was my sworn political enemy.

I recognized that my whole purpose was to walk alongside Matthew as we followed Jesus together. Jesus did not call me to write a gospel about him or even speak words that others would record in their writings. Jesus wanted me to live a life of faith with Matthew, my enemy. I was there to show generations to come that following Jesus would mean walking with someone with whom we fervently disagreed.

What an electric moment! I was in that room to show you that life with Jesus demands us to be better than our differences. Matthew and I were the first Christians to show that two opposing views can come together under the banner of Christ.

It all came together for me while we were praying. Your Scriptures do not reveal our specific words. But as you might imagine, I prayed for what we should do next as disciples. I prayed for my Jewish people, now that our best shot at revolution had literally just disappeared in thin air. I prayed for the safety of all those who had risked everything to commit to Jesus. And yes, I prayed for Matthew.

That is why I tell you my story today. You are as divided as we were 2,000 years ago, perhaps even more so. You are divided over so much:  politics, race, economics, healthcare, climate, immigration, environment, guns, and the list goes on. Who would have ever thought that Christians would argue over wearing masks?

Be zealous about your beliefs. Be passionate about your concerns. Be fervent about what you think is right. But never allow your differences to obstruct your love for each other in Christ. Jesus said, “…everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). The world is watching you in 2020. They want to see if you can love each other despite your differences. Our Savior wants to see that, too. How are you known: by your love for others or by your arguments against others?

My clarity came when I prayed for Matthew. It is very hard to pray God’s best for an enemy; candidly, you will not view them as enemy much longer. Who is your Matthew?”

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Scripture quotations are from the New International Version.

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