The Perfect Sibling

I have two siblings. The elder, a sister (Jules) is a textbook eldest child. While I would never wish ill-will against her or upon her, she's had a life that followed the book and now has a good husband, two kids, a dog, a home they built with a swing on the porch and enough money in various places that Dave Ramsey himself would be proud. My younger sibling, G, is fun to be around, carefree, tied down to nothing more than his two dogs, he has made his way through life trying different paths, different jobs, different locales and has thus far come out unscathed. While Dave Ramsey might not be impressed with my brother, I suspect he might make quick friends with someone like Toby Keith.

I was sitting here this morning wondering over a lot of different things and it occured to me to think about what it might have been like to have Jesus as your older sibling. First of all, what shock Mary must have had when her second child was born. The first one had been, well, perfect, and now, she has one that gets sick, cries, throws tantrums, is selfish, lies, bites and screams for no reason at all. But as I keep my own envy in check over my sister's seemingly perfect life, I have to think that being a younger brother to Jesus might have been the worst situation a child could be in. Your mother would never stop saying, "Why can't you just be perfect like your brother?" And while Jesus could go off, wandering around the country without a job, writing home to say he's off preaching and performing miracles, but has no real source of income, no place to lay his head, no intentions to marry, there would be enormous pressure on every other child in the home to have a good job, raise a family, be a good provider.

As kids, Mary might walk into the room and see her children fighting. Asking one what happened, she might hear, "Jesus stole my toy!" only to have to reprimand her son for lying.

When you held a summer job as a teenager, your employer probably mumbled under his breath, "Jesus was the best kid we ever employed. His brother, however, leave a lot to be desired!" Even if you worked hard, you could never work perfectly. When the donkey didn't get fed, or the eggs hadn't been gathered from the chickens, you couldn't try to suggest that maybe it was Jesus' fault. You'd learn quickly that Mary would instantly know better and you'd be to blame. Again.

Women probably fell in love with Jesus, but settled for a brother thinking there must be similarities. How disappointed they must have been to realize they got the short end of the stick! "Your brother, Jesus, is sympathetic! He would have understood! How can you be so calluous?"

Even children might favor their uncle Jesus over their own fathers.

I guess, when I give it some thought, I am fortunate to have a sister to look up to, but one that I can surely say isn't perfect.