Traitor No More

You wake up in your beautiful lakefront mansion. You go outside to sit on your balcony while your servant brings you some tea. You breathe in the fresh lake air and bask in the warm sun. It might look like the perfect day in paradise, but today is a work day. It’s hard to be too critical about your career path; after all, it has provided very well for you. But nobody warned you how terrible this would be on you emotionally.

After you finish your lakefront breakfast, you head out the door to go to work. As you walk down the street, you see a bunch of friendly faces and exchange multiple friendly greetings. But you are still in your part of town. As you get closer to work, the attitude of the people changes. You no longer see friendly faces; instead, you hear harsh comments and get mean looks. You walk past some kids playing outside, and as soon as their mom sees you, she tells them to all get inside. You can see and feel the hate that everyone has for you. This isn’t just some weird one-off day — you and your co-workers deal with this every day. That is why all of your friends are also tax collectors.

As you get to the tax booth, you see the line already forming with the Roman guards directing traffic. You see the sad and angry looks on the faces of the people lining up. You see one of your old classmates at the front of the line. “Traitor!” he yells at you. You want to argue, but you agree with him. You have sold your soul. Was it to money, or was it to Rome? I guess it no longer matters — you’re stuck now.

You sit at your booth, ready for another long day of taking your own people’s money. “Someone has to do it,” you reason with yourself. After about an hour of taking people’s money, watching them cry, and getting cussed out a few times, you notice a large crowd starting to gather nearby.

“What’s going on?” you ask the Roman guard in charge of protecting the money you collect.

“The people are saying that some guy named Jesus is in town. Apparently he’s some famous teacher or something,” the guard replies. You’ve heard of Jesus, but you’re not entirely sure you want to meet him. After all, rabbis and tax collectors don’t typically get along.

About this time, you see the crowd start to part, and you see him. You look down at the money you have made today, trying to remind yourself why you do this and so you don’t have to look at him. Then the guard tells you, “He’s looking right at you.” Then you hear Jesus call out, “Follow me.”

You’re torn. On one hand, you have the cushiest job in all of Israel, as long as you can handle the isolation. On the other hand, you are so tired of being hated by everyone.

Before you have made up your mind, you notice that you are no longer in your seat — you’re not even near your booth anymore. Without thinking about it, you have gotten up and started to follow Jesus. “What is my life going to look like now?” you ask yourself. But you’re now free — free from the hate, free from the isolation, free from being a traitor.