Big Brother Jesus: Little Sister-Maxxing My Way Through the Gospel
One thing about me is that I am a little sister to my core. It’s the energy I bring into every environment—for better or for worse. (Honestly, it’s probably mostly for worse.)
I’ve always had older, wiser, cooler big sisters showing me the way, and I’ve always been very comfy in my role as the one receiving all their extra help. I also never, ever want to be told what to do.
There are trade-offs to this role. And I married somebody’s oldest son. Conflict looks interesting here. 👁️👁️
Through some soul-searching over the past week or so, I’ve had some time to think about how this familial role has shaped the ways I approach my faith. I’m fully aware that nobody asked for this. But also… what are you gonna do?
If you were to ask me how I envision Jesus, it’s not actually the Man on the cross I picture first. Or the kid in the temple giving His parents the ol' run-around. Or the tiny little guy in the manger with the power to bring a whole kingdom down.
No, the Jesus I relate to most easily is the idea of a teenage Jesus.
This is definitely the little sister in me talking. But bear with me right quick.
Maybe it’s because I’ve always been less cool than my big sisters, but when I picture myself, I’m still the perpetually awkward middle-school version of me¹, somewhere around age twelve, who has found a Big Brother in Jesus. (The fact that I identify so strongly as this old version of myself, even now, probably tells us that my time spent working as a middle school teacher really was a good fit, huh?)
Anyways, when I say “Big Brother Jesus,” I don’t mean a totalitarian, dystopian George Orwell kind of Big Brother—always watching and waiting, ready to pounce. Nor do I picture Him as some unseen reality-TV producer, causing (allowing?) all this chaos in my life to take shape from some distant control room.
Neither of these is the Jesus who resonates so deeply with me. Maybe Ghost Ship’s rendition of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” helped solidify this picture for me:
Are we weak and heavy laden, Cumbered with a load of care? Brother Jesus is our refuge. Take it to the Lord in prayer.
While I do have two big sisters, Emily and Hannah, and a just-barely-younger twin brother, Ryan, I don’t actually have an older brother. So, I’ve always found comfort in this idea of Jesus as the Big Brother I never had.²
My favorite book from the Scriptures is Hebrews, and I love what the author tells us in chapter 2, verse 11: “For the one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father. That is why Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters.”
As somebody’s chronically embarrassed, always-embarrassing little sister, it means a lot to me that Someone like Jesus would choose to identify with me as a member of His family—that He would willingly invite me into His Father’s fold. Maybe that’s why this picture works so well for me.
But like... just take a second to imagine how cool a Big Brother Jesus would be.
He’d have His driver’s license and would be willing to drop you off and pick you up from school so you wouldn’t have to ride the bus. (He’s thoughtful!) He’d also have McDonald’s money and wouldn’t mind treating you to an after-school snack every once in a while. (He’s generous!) And I feel like He’d wear a letterman jacket, too. But not in a peaked-in-high-school kind of way. It’s more like He worked hard for His rightful spot on whatever team He’s on. I personally think it’s football, but I’ll listen to your argument for a Baseball Big Brother Jesus.
He’s not the older sibling you’re scared to be compared to, for fear that you’d never measure up. It’s more like He already went ahead of you and paved the way—and somehow left such a good impression on His teachers and teammates and grocery store clerks that people just like you on the basis of your family name. They find favor with you because they know you’ve been seen around town with Him. And they can also see that He doesn’t mind having you tag along with Him—even when you feel like you’ve embarrassed Him enough.
The Jesus I follow now is the same One who would’ve picked me up early from the slumber party when I felt too out of place. Even though my bullies look different today (more behind keyboards, less behind the teacher’s back), He’s still standing up to them for me.³
He’s a good enough Big Brother to call me out when I’m being the worst. He knew me as a literal cry baby and knows me now as a metaphorical one. He’s aware of what I lack and the parts of myself that are most selfish and careless and cruel (as all little sisters are from time to time). And through all that, He’s still able to see the best in me—even when I’ve made it really hard to find. I’m able to be a better sister and daughter because of the example He set for me. Even if He did set the bar pretty high. 😅
Personally, I think He hung the moon—because He did. And I worship the One whose footsteps I’m following because He slows down enough for me to keep His pace. I’ve never had to try to find the way on my own.
If you’re feeling the discomfort of having outgrown the version of Jesus you knew in the past, then I hope you can see Him with His hand still reaching out, still slowing down to keep pace alongside you, too.
Because we can’t outgrow a transcendent Savior. He doesn’t change—even when our understanding of Him does.
And I’m so grateful He isn’t ashamed to call people like us His brothers and sisters.
Even a little sister like me.
¹ This is precisely why I can’t get on board with y’all’s ironic Y2K/2010s fashion trends… Y’all want me to go back and channel the fashion choices of this tiny diva?
² I feel like if I did have an actual big brother, I’d probably be more scared of the cosmic wet willies and karmic swirlies this Big Brother Jesus might bring. (But I don’t, so I’m not. 🙏 And He wouldn’t!)
³ This is how I fight my battles lol
Comments