he visited them and ate meals with them, apparently because he enjoyed their company. His enemies knew there had to be something wrong with a person who willingly associated with those worthless folks at the margins of the community. Jesus! Phaugh! He’s the friend of outcasts and sinners! That’s what they said about him.

Caleb recognized this accusation as a deliberate and nasty slur. Yet it didn’t seem to bother Jesus. He went on liking those outcasts. He went on being the friend of sinners.

That was puzzling. But there was something even more puzzling. How do you respond to those who make deliberate nasty slurs in your direction? The baffling thing Caleb had heard was this: even when people were out to get him, Jesus still seemed to care about them. His attitude toward his accusers seemed to be not condemnation but compassion. It was as if Jesus had decided to be not only the friend of sinners, but the friend of his enemies as well.

Caleb didn’t understand that part. Most of those Galilean peasants didn’t have much formal education, but they often made up for that with a certain native shrewdness. Caleb expected Jesus would have his fair share of this shrewdness. Caleb expected Jesus would have the prudence to see that it’s not smart to be a friend to your enemies. And although Caleb hadn’t told the others, he expected Jesus would have the insight to recognize that their group of Sadducees was out to embarrass him. He’d be shrewd: perceptive enough to discern the mockery hidden behind their false interest. Maybe he’d match them, sarcasm for sarcasm. Or maybe he’d simply ignore them.

The group of them made their way to the front of the crowd. They stood there together, and Joel spoke up and said, “Excuse us, Mr. Preacher, but we’ve got a real problem here, and we wonder if you could help us.” He told the story they’d made up of the seven brothers, with all the details and trimmings. Almost ten minutes to recite the whole thing. Caleb felt the restlessness stirring in the crowd. Some people muttered, “Get to the point.” Others recognized what was happening and whispered to each other: “It’s a trap, they have set this up to ridicule Jesus.”

But Jesus himself apparently didn’t see it coming. He simply stood there, nodding with polite attention, as Joel recounted stanza after stanza of the tale they had made up about these seven brothers who had all married this woman.

Caleb thought, “Jesus doesn’t get it. We’re out to make fun of him. I had guessed he’d have the shrewdness to pick up on that. Oh well. Kind of disappointing.”

Then Joel posed the stumper. “So, Jesus, help us understand this. Whose wife will she be?”

There was a pause. Standing there next to Caleb, Dan snickered; then he nudged Caleb with his elbow and murmured, “We’ve got him now.” Jesus looked at the group of Sadducees. He seemed to look right into the soul of each one of them. Jesus looked at Joel, at Dan, at the rest of them. He looked at Caleb. As their eyes met, Caleb saw it. He saw that Jesus had seen from the beginning how they intended to trap him, how they wanted to entertain themselves by making fun of him. But for some reason Jesus hadn’t gotten intimidated or resentful about that. Why not? As he asked himself that question, Caleb saw the answer. Jesus was the friend of sinners and the friend of his enemies: and he would be the friend of Sadducees, too. He liked those sinners, he liked those enemies, and he liked those Sadducees, even though he knew from the start that their plan was to humiliate him.