Full Bore

 It’s been a minute since I revisited the book of Jude. Coming in at a succinct four hundred words and change, you’d be hard-pressed to find anything under five hundred words to pack such a forceful punch. It goes to show that you don’t need volumes and treatises to get your point across. 

As Thomas Jefferson once said, the most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words when one will do. I think before He said it, Jude, the half-brother of Jesus, proved it. I say this knowing full well that I’m prone to writing lengthier essays, but hopefully, they are substantive.

Unlike Paul, Jude’s letter wasn’t to a particular church body but to all believers everywhere. Contextually speaking, this is relevant because there’s bound to be someone who would point out that Paul was writing to the Romans, the Corinthians, or the Hebrews, and because it was addressed to a particular body, they could see their way around ignoring the more uncomfortable bits.

Yes, I am aware that all scripture is given by the inspiration of God and is profitable for doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness, but when people are looking for an excuse, even a flimsy excuse will do. People who could barely speak English will insist that the original Greek meant something as an adjective rather than a verb because their intent isn’t the knowledge of God but the justification of sin.

Between last night and this morning, I’ve read and reread the book of Jude four times. Each time it was with a smile on my face and sadness in my heart because although he went full bore and spared no feelings, what he wrote two thousand years ago is more relevant today than ever in the Church’s history.

There are truths in these four hundred sixty-one words that the church doesn’t want to hear but that it needs to hear because the things he spoke of no longer occur once in a blue moon but every day, everywhere, all the time, and with increasing frequency.

It’s not as though the Bible doesn’t warn us about deceivers and deception; we ignored it because we liked what the deceivers had to say. The deception they peddled was soothing to the flesh, and when they gave us the option of having our cake and eating it too, of going to heaven but living like hell, we jumped at the chance.

It didn’t matter that what they said contradicted the Bible, all that mattered was that we could roll in the mud without the guilt of feeling dirty or the effort of cleaning ourselves up. Everyone was saved, but no one lived like it, and if anyone dared to point out the inconsistency of character, the absence of fruit, the worldliness the newly minted soldiers of the cross continued to exhibit long after they ought to have known the way of righteousness, the chorus of works salvation was so shrieking and loud that it drowned out every other voice.

If you’ve made it this far, we’ve exceeded the word count of the Book of Jude. Once we delve into it, you’ll realize just how much challenging, inspiring, and relevant wisdom is packed into it.

Some things just don’t age well, even though, at the time, they seem like they’ll be around forever. I’m sure the early adopters of the Betamax thought they were the bee’s knees until VHS came along. The same goes for the Laser Disk before the DVD came along and made it obsolete.

Other things, however, get better with time, and the book of Jude falls into this category. It is sublime, and I would be doing you a disservice if I didn’t terry in it for a little while.

Jude 1-2, “Jude, a bondservant of Jesus Christ, and brother of James, to those who are called, sanctified by God the Father, and preserved in Jesus Christ: Mercy, peace, and love be multiplied to you.”

What Jude doesn’t say in his introduction is as telling as what he does say. Rather than present his titles and accolades, rather than hammer home the point that he was the half-brother of Jesus, he calls himself a bondservant of Christ and a brother of James. Insecure people like riding coattails. They go on and on about that one time when they met someone of note for the briefest moment, and no matter where the conversation leads, they always return to that singular event that seems to have defined their entire existence.

If you’ve lived for any amount of time, you’ve met people like that. You ask them how the family is, and they come back with, “You know, that one time when I met a guy who knew the guy who does landscaping for Bob Barker’s agent, he said I should definitely look into acting.”

Jude was content with being known as a bondservant of Jesus Christ. He had no desire for the spotlight to be on him, nor did he want to be the center of attention. He was not a braggart or one who felt the need to puff himself up. He was a humble man who saw no need to regale those who were called and sanctified with his bona fides but rather with his servant’s heart and humble attitude.

Another worthwhile observation is what he desired for those he wrote to. It wasn’t wealth, and it wasn’t stature; it wasn’t fame, fortune, possessions, or positions, but those intangible, priceless virtues, such as mercy, peace, and love, that can only come from the hand of God.

What should the children of God have that the world cannot buy? The selfsame things that Jude desired to be multiplied to those who are called, sanctified by God the Father, and preserved in Christ Jesus.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.