+STORY: Her Obtuse Older Brother

Akari admired her older brother Suto. So much so that, when they were little, she fought him with words and body and competed with him in her accomplishments just to gain his attention and become more like him.

Though he was four years older than her, her grades had to be at least as good as his were. She pushed her way into his car when he went to play frisbee golf with friends (a sport gaining popularity in their city in Japan.) She would acutely examine his technique and attempt to beat all of them. Sometimes she came close.

In between holes a friend told Suto, "Your sister is obsessive. She watches everything you do, dude. But she learns fast and she's witty, and she's not bad to look at. So we'll let her stay."

That friend nursed a sore jaw for a week.

Suto loved comic books and Akari would often come into his room, hold one in front of his face, and criticize why the story was inferior or the drawings were inaccurate. Suto would turn from his desk where he was studying, lift an eyebrow and a smirk, and ask her more. Then he would defend why the author and artist had likely made those choices and say what he might have done differently. She would grill him and he would challenge her when they watched movies too. She hung on every word, and their next conversation would bring those new elements to the table too.

Suto practiced Kung Foo and excelled at his dojo, but Akari quickly became his fiercest rival. He was far stronger, being a boy and 4 years her senior, but she was incessantly throwing jabs or knee kicks at him and he returned them in defense, while sitting down for dinner, walking by each other in the kitchen, or when he dropped her off at school in his car. And this highly tuned their skills to always be ready and to not only defend but return a superior offense.

Unlike most children, it was not her parents she strove so hard to please. It was simply and directly to be loved by, and become like her older brother.

They often challenged each other with words and tone when they still lived in the same house, and their parents nagged them to stop. But no matter what they tried, their parents couldn't seem to break the strange antagonistic admiration young Akari had with her older brother, who they had had a falling out with.

There was a middle brother. And he became the one to whom their parents declared they would pass their multi-million-dollar family business. That brother was happy-go-lucky, enjoyed people alright, but mostly played video games and ate microwave meals. Suto and Akari secretly called him Michelangelo because he too was pizza loving, and soon to be bald like the Ninja Turtle.

When Suto graduated, he tried college for a semester or two but left, stating there was just so much better stuff to learn from the world. He went into the military where he traveled as a supply chain analyst for four years. He strove to learn business, culture, tech, and language wherever he went. When he finished his service, he contracted for them sporadically in a role he wouldn't quite fully disclose to Akari, despite her incessant interrogations. A couple times he came home with mysterious bruises or nursing a sore joint. He signed on with a startup, which was pioneering the field of computer vision and heads up displays in glasses. His best friend from the military became a popular politician, so he ran in those circles a bit as well. He had several romantic relationships and said it was mainly to learn about himself and what he wanted before he pursued marriage.

The company he worked for got bought by a much bigger company, so he found himself financially set for life, but without a job, except for his sporadic, military missions. So he bought a home close to his parents with an extra room, as his sister was a sophomore in college.

Like he knew would happen, his sister showed up on his doorstep after school every day. Though she had a dorm, she effectively lived in Suto's extra room. She did her homework across from him in their living room as he traded stocks or researched new tech startups on the computer. Or packed his bag for a military mission.

She would fire challenging questions at him, about her advanced calculus, or her honors history class. He would look up, take a sip of his coffee, fold his fingers in front of his face and think for a moment. Then he would say something seemingly so obtuse that she would look at him dumbfounded for a moment, scoff, shake her head while staring at him, raise an eye-brow in dismissal and get back to her work.

Suto would smile and keep her in the corner of his eye until he saw his comment haunt her enough to drive her to go get her computer and research it. Inevitably within the day or the week she would come back to him proudly touting some profound discovery or hypothesis that the researchers or historians themselves probably had not explicitly written or maybe even realized.

Suto would close his laptop, and touch the fingers of each hand together in front of his face again and listen to her ideas, hiding his very satisfied smile. He rarely gave her the satisfaction of a nod of approval, but instead would ask another seemingly perpendicular question and watch her scoff, put her head down in a kerfuffle, and stare blankly at her computer as her brain unwound his meaning.

And often the next day, sure enough, she would come excited about insights she had uncovered, and fire another question at him.

Suto almost went nowhere without his little sister at his elbow. She studied his every movement. Where he looked. The confidence and swagger which drew people to him. She challenged him on how he treated social situations when they got back in the car. And he replied, but never with clear answers. It was usually a question or contained a reference to some obscure poet or story. Inevitably she would come back to him in the next few days and say, "I know what you were doing there, when I asked you about why you said that to Ren when he asked you about his move to Washington DC to advise on human trafficking. You were referencing Helen of Troy when you called him Agamemnon, who sacrificed his daughter to win a battle. He's sacrificing those dearest to him in exchange for glory in victory. Ultimately a sin of hubris."

Suto glanced in his rear view mirror and replied, "Why do you say a 'sin?' A sin against whom? Did the Greeks not believe in a pantheon of self-serving gods?"

Akari examined her brother's stone face and thought a moment. Then she said, "Perhaps a conflict of his values, family vs glory, one value suffering dire consequences when the other is given too much priority."

"Was Pacino at fault for causing Keanu's downfall, or was it simply a testing which showed where his priorities already lied?"

"I get the reference and recognize you are being a 'Devil's Advocate' yourself. But you're not telling me if he's making the right choice or not! Family or worldly successes. I mean, Ren's not even married to her yet, and it's to help the company fight human trafficking. That's not hubris." She paused and scowled discerningly at his eyes in the rear view mirror. Then she blurted, "So what IS he supposed to do?"

"Does a selfish master care for his slave's desires?"

"RenShue isn't a selfish master. They're a textiles distributor trying to eliminate human trafficking aren't they? Why are you always so obtuse!?"

"Why AM I so obtuse?" He asked her. He was now unable to hide the smile creeping across his face.

She came home with more deeply insightful answers and new stances on how she wanted to live her life the next day. But the chair in his room was empty. His military backpack and boots were gone. His Ninja smoothie cup was unwashed in the sink, unlike the rest of his spotless house. She found a note on her chair which said, "Emergency job. Sorry I couldn't text you. This one is off the grid; I may not come back. Turns out the 'master' is not only selfish, but is the true sinner. I'm riding with Agememnon in the belly to fight the beast."

"I've trained you to fill the role they're going to ask of you when Michelangelo fails. But I think you will do far greater things than that."

***

For so long I've had a contentious relationship with Jesus. His words seem so obtuse, sometimes insulting, impatient and seemingly contradictory. He seems to evade answers. But when I push in I often realize he is referencing something from the old testament to make a deeper point, or giving an answer at a slant that gives a much deeper answer to a seemingly shallow question. And I have begun to see Jesus' words like that of Akari's older brother. He holds mysterious clues to some deeper understanding I didn't even know I needed to know about.

For example, when the rich ruler comes to Jesus and asks what must I do to go to Heaven. Jesus lists off a few commandments and the guy basically says 'I've done all those. Is that all?' And then Jesus says 'sell everything and give it to the poor.' The man walks away sad because he had a lot of wealth. I used to see that as Jesus firstly contradicting, because he gives two different standards to getting into heaven (is it following those commands, or is it giving all away?) Then it seems like he's giving him an impossibly hard standard to reach, like a jerk, seeming to surprise the man with some wisdom the guy had never been aware of but that would now preclude him from heaven.

But when I looked deeper, the commands that Jesus references first are the last 6 commandments. What he left unspoken were the first four. Which should have made the man, or the astute reader ask 'why?' It turns out the last six are about treatment of other people. The first four have to do with having full commitment to God. So by this point the rich man probably already realizes the answer. It's the answer Jesus doesn't have to tell him. All the Hebrews knew the ten commandments and Jesus just reveals that the rich young man has not kept the heart of the first four. He has made riches more of a god than Yahweh.

And did you notice that when the man said, "I have kept all of those since my youth" Jesus "had compassion on him." I just picture Jesus reluctantly giving him the hard truth in a way that was not condemning to the man, but bringing to the man's mind something he already knew he should have been setting right in his heart. Jesus ached toward him. But somehow I used to miss that in his hard answer.

Another quick one: Jesus asks someone to follow him and the person replies, "Let me go say goodbye to my family." And Jesus says what at first sounds like a ridiculous ultimatum. He says, "Anyone who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is not worthy of the kingdom." When I looked deeper I realized that when Elijah recruited Elisha to follow him, Elisha asked to say goodbye to his fam. Elijah said 'sure.' And Elisha went home and burned his plow and sacrificed his cows. I don't think Jesus is saying to the man, 'you can't follow me if you go back and say goodbye to your peeps.' I think he's reminding that guy (and us) of the similarities to the Old Testament story and saying we should ask ourselves if we really are fully committed to follow, committed enough to burn what we needed to do work.

One of my favorites is right next to the previous example. Jesus asks one guy to follow him and the guy says, "Let me go back and bury my dead father." Jesus replies, "Let the dead bury their dead. You go back and preach about the kingdom." I always used to read that as Jesus wouldn't even let him go back and honor his parents. But actually I don't think it's that. I feel like he's saying, "Sure, go back and bury your dead. But unlike most people, who are spiritually dead, you bring life and speak of the kingdom as you 'go' and do your things." Go back and bury him, and preach the kingdom while you do it!

So, in summary, I think I have a relationship with Jesus like Akari did with Suto. And Suto is pursuing me with those obtuse answers that at first anger and distance me, but draw me in and teach me deeper understanding through discovering his lessons through my own personally journey of uncovering the clues and finding my own journey through it. Which may offend some so much that they never come back, but if I'm intrigued enough to stay, it gives me a much more personally meaningful answer.

Raw Spoon, May, 2025