What made Jesus so powerful in his day and age? Was it his miracles? His words and teaching? His presence? His love and forgiveness? His eventual sacrifice? While these are very important to adherents today, in his time, Jesus’ power was found not in any of these, per se, but in his goodness. Plato writes in The Republic something along the lines that if a truly good man–a just man–were to walk the earth, he would surely be slain.

Why should a good, a just and upright man be killed, though? It seems to be evident that jealousy comes into play at this point. Imagine, if you will, that you have a sibling who is always perfect: never swears, drinks, or smokes; never lies, cheats, or steals; never lusts, never boasts, never does anything remotely evil. It might be great to worship such a person, but to be related to someone as good as that would be rather difficult.

The reason having a perfect sibling would be such a challenge is because by comparison, you would not be perfect–and far from it. All your imperfections would be glaringly obvious, and you could never blame your pious, righteous sibling for anything because they would never be in the wrong. In no time, you might find yourself feeling jealous of your sibling, and with jealousy, usually comes hatred and with hatred, malice, and with malice, many other vices.

The famous book by Dale Carnegie on How to Win Friends and Influence People, while charming and powerful in its own right, was perhaps not one that Jesus had read. The way in which Jesus interacted with the people of his day was not something I would recommend to anyone who wants to win friends and influence people, let alone keep their head attached to their body. The reason being is because Jesus spoke the truth in force and his life backed up what he said. He did not shy away from confronting the leaders of society, the ruling elite with their sins. Neither did he shy away from acknowledging and accepting the outcasts with their sins.

Jesus was many times faced with possible stoning or being cast off the ledge of a cliff. He was harassed oftentimes with incessant inquiries into the nature of his identity. His teachings were questioned and his miraculous deeds downplayed. Jesus was not accepted in his day and age because he was too good for this world. Indeed, as he himself said, his kingdom was not of this world, nor of this time, nor of this age. Thus, when Jesus was crucified and killed, it should not come as any surprise: anyone who walks the earth like Jesus did, should expect the same payment, pain, and punishment.

The world in which we live is rotten to the core–not because the earth itself is, but because the humans who “rule,” so to speak, upon it are rotten to the core. That is not to deny the original goodness in which God created the world and humanity; it is only to acknowledge the darkness of sin that is more than latent in every human heart, especially my own.

What made Jesus so powerful was not his ability to con or manipulate others into following him–far from it! (Just read John 6, if you want evidence of his abrasive ways.) His power came from his goodness, rooted in his identity, which was so much of this world that it was out of this world. To be so earthly minded that you’re of heavenly good is to be so in tune with the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.

Jesus did not mince words: he came to bring about a kingdom, namely, that of God. He came to call all to repentance, to live in accordance with the commands of the King of the Kingdom. He was not establishing some cool commune where everyone could sing kumbaya. He was establishing a kingdom of biblical proportions, something so unseen and unheard of before that it would be something that no mind had yet conceived or imagined.

The entrance fee to the kingdom that Jesus proclaimed was only faith, the full realization and acceptance that he himself was King of kings and Lord of lords. That faith, of course, must result in obedience to the commands of the faith, else it be mere lip service–none of which Jesus would have.

As far as it depended upon him, Jesus worked to be clear and understood, but often he was met with hard and impenitent hearts, which would not hear and understand, precisely because they could not hear and understand. What Jesus called his followers to was literal suicide: “If you would be my follower, take up your cross and follow me,” he often said.

The cross was, of course, used for crucifixions, which would be akin to the electric chair or some other form of capital punishment. Jesus was calling his followers to die in the same way he would die, to sacrifice all, that that was the goodness of God in us.

Jesus did not come so much to win friends and influence people: he came to be good.

Precisely because he was good–so very good–he was rejected and killed, and we should expect nothing less, if we are to follow in his footsteps.