We counted Him as a friend. Jesus, that is. When He was in Jerusalem, He would stay with us in Bethany. We are, to many, a strange household, my brother Lazarus, my sister Mary & I, but I really think Jesus saw us as, well as part of His family, but certainly as dear friends.
We'd often had Him share meals with us, He knew me well enough you know to rebuke me as one does a sister when I got things wrong. You see I'm the practical one of the three of us. Lazarus is a man & looks after & cares for us, Mary, my sister often has her head in the clouds, living very much at the mercy of her thoughts & feelings, but I'm the practical one. Jesus though had seen through my facade of busy-ness & had shown me that I shouldn't always seek refuge in what I do, but allow myself space to breathe & contemplate & enjoy what is important in life.
Anyway, I digress, for I wanted to tell you about the time when I was confronted with the truth of who Jesus is, who He really is! Not just a friend' or a Teacher, but so much more than that.
You see, it began really when Lazarus fell ill. To begin with we did all the things you do when someone falls ill, I made broth, but there was no improvement & he got worse.
We watched over him as the fever took hold of him, sometimes it took both of us to hold him still as he seemed to thrash about in his agony. It was at this point we decided, Mary & I to send for Jesus. We managed to get someone who knew where He could be found & sent word for Him to come quickly. We told Him that Lazarus, His beloved friend was very ill.
Whilst we waited for Him to come, we watched & nursed Lazarus, but he got worse. The thrashing stopped, but the fever didn't get any better. He grew paler & paler, became still & then, almost before we realised how bad things were, he died!
We were stunned. We grieved, we wailed. Mary & I prepared him for burial, we both wanted to do that for him & we buried him in the tomb in our garden.
The house was full of those who had come to support us & mourn with us, yet I think for both of us, the aching void we felt wasn't simply in the loss of our dear brother, but because Jesus wasn't there. We didn't know why, but we did know that He hadn't come.
It was a few days later when someone came running in to me to say that Jesus was coming. I thought I'd better go & warn Him what to expect when He arrived. Did He know that Lazarus had died, or was He still expecting to see him ill, but alive?
When I reached Him, I realised that He knew Lazarus was dead. Of course He knew, I remember wondering why I ever thought He wouldn't know!
I couldn't help myself, but the words of reproach left my mouth before I remember even thinking them - 'If You'd been here, my brother wouldn't have died, but even now Jesus,
I know that whatever You ask Your Father for, He will give to You.'
I'm not sure what I expected Him to do or to say. I know that as the truth of my words sank into my heart I realised that I really did believe them. I did believe that whatever Jesus asked His Father to do, it would be done & that whatever He did would be good.
I wasn't surprised at His reaction of faith in God, His Father. He reminded me that Lazarus would rise again & I replied that I knew he would rise again on the last day. His next words jolted me out of my platitude though!
He said 'I AM myself the Resurrection & the Life. Whoever believes & trusts in me even if he dies, he shall live. He who continues against all external circumstances to believe in Me shall not die. Martha, do you believe this?'
If you haven't known Jesus as we did, you won't know that tingle that you get down your spine when He says certain things, things that are so deep, so wide, so utterly mind-blowing, yet at the same time so familiar that somehow you've known them to be true all your life, except no-one until this moment has ever been able to paint the picture of them for you. Well, I had one of those moments as He said those words. I knew, I knew what I'd always known, but now, I really KNEW IT!
Almost as if the words themselves were new to me I replied with a sense of wonder, 'I believe that You are the Christ, the Anointed Son of God, the Promised One, the Messiah!' He simply smiled at me in that way He could when you know that He knew what it was you were going to say & was so pleased you'd said it.
I left Him & went to get Mary, still with that sense of wonder within me. Mary was weeping with her friends, but went straight away to find Jesus. She told me much later that she had actually said the same thing I had to Him when she found Him! Maybe we're not so different after all, my sister & I!
Anyway, Jesus came & asked where they had laid him & we all went to the tomb. Some of our friends were muttering about Jesus having left it too late to come, but no-one doubted His love for our brother because as we got to the tomb, He wept. He simply wept for His friend, our brother. Even those who had been muttering couldn't deny this outpouring of love & grief from Jesus.
As He gathered Himself, He then said the most extraordinary thing, He told the men to take away the boulder! Lazarus had been in the tomb four days by now, it had been hot, the stench would have been horrific. What was Jesus thinking? I had to say it, but even in saying the words, I knew there was something He was going to say, or do!
What He said was directed at me - 'Didn't I tell you that if you believed in Me you would see the glory of God?'
'I do believe in You my Lord' was my hearts reply, but the words that left my lips were an assent to His request.
I will be honest, there was no-one there who could have predicted what He would do next, well, even for Jesus this was something else! We'd heard of Him bringing back from the dead Jairus' daughter, but she'd only just died. We'd heard too of the widow in Nain, just about to bury her son, he was on his funeral pyre when Jesus raised him from death, but our dear brother had been in the tomb for four days, his spirit would have departed and his body would have begun to decay, yet, Jesus said in a loud voice
'Father, thank You that You hear Me, that You always hear Me. I say this for the benefit of those You have brought here to this place at this time, that they might believe.' He paused, then said in that commanding way only He could, 'Lazarus, come out!'
Walking towards us came our brother, still in his burial cloths! Well, I say walking, but creeping might be better, for we'd bound him beautifully. He still had His burial cloth on his face, Jesus laughed at our reaction & told us through His joyous laughter to help Lazarus free of the binding cloths of death & let him go.
That was all we needed to free us from the daze we were in, which seemed to have frozen us to the spot. We ran to him, to Lazarus, overjoyed at seeing him again at having had him restored to us.
I knew Jesus was going to do something special, I thought He'd come & He'd heal him, we'd seen Him do that so many times before, but this......well even for Jesus, this was incredible. He'd told me I would see the glory of God. He told me Lazarus would be raised, but this....this was humbling. I glanced over at Jesus & He met my gaze & smiled. Sometimes you know, words simply get in the way. I could not have expressed anything in words that would have said any more than the look that passed between us at that point. Just as I had known, He knew, He knew how I felt, how grateful, how full of wonder, how my life would never be what it was before, how I had myself somehow passed from death to life, just as Lazarus had.
He didn't stay with us that time, because our house became such a crowded place where folk who heard about Lazarus would come, just to see him, to see if it were real, to join in our joy. The party & celebration lasted many days & even weeks later after most had gone home, we would still get the occasional knock on the door asking for Lazarus, asking to simply shake his hand, for they wanted to share in the wonder of our resurrected brother.
Even some of the Jewish leaders came, although they weren't full of wonder at all, but filled with scathing scepticism. We showed them the burial cloths & the grave, but they went away as scathingly as they arrived.
We all three of us felt for Jesus, we wished He could have been with us. We understood why He couldn't at that time, but we knew He'd come back again & maybe by then we might have found some words to express our delight & gratitude.........or maybe the wonder was just too great for words!
We talked about it, the three of us, in the stillness when evening draws in. How could we thank Jesus, how could we show Him just what we felt in our gratitude?
We had one thing, our family insurance if you like, our parents had left it to us. It was a pound of pure nard, yes, a pound! In talking it through we all decided that we should give it to Jesus, as an offering of thanks from the three of us.
It was Mary who came up with the idea of anointing Jesus with it, of pouring it out upon Him. We knew the Jewish leaders were planning to kill Him, they'd made it plain enough to Him, but also to us when they came to see Lazarus. They even hinted that it might be better for us if Lazarus was to disappear permanently too!
We knew they meant it, they didn't make idle threats & we knew too that time may be short, so Mary said the next time Jesus came to our home, she'd like to anoint Him with the nard & that we would both be there too, Lazarus & I.
So, about a week before Passover, Jesus came to stay again, on His way to Jerusalem. It was such a joy to the three of us having Jesus there, with Lazarus reclining with Him. I served & Mary prepared herself. At the right point in the meal we all caught each other's eyes & we knew the time was right. It was as though the whole world stood still for a time as Mary uncorked the nard & poured it on Jesus. I found myself crying with Mary as she did so. When I looked at Lazrus, he too was fighting back tears!
I can't describe how beautiful it was, how the fragrance of it filled the room, how there was something deeply spiritual, deeply profound about it. To be honest, we hadn't bargained for the sense of God amongst us that it brought. I know that wasn't just me that felt it, you could see from other people they too were deeply moved, none more so than Jesus.
After that moment, when the world began to move again, I heard Judas bemoaning the waste of the nard. I didn't like Judas & I suspected his motives for complaining weren't just that it might have been sold for the poor, but that 'poor' Judas might have had some of the proceeds! Well it hadn't been his to sell anyway, it was our inheritance, ours to do with as we wanted & we had chosen to spend it on Jesus, in grateful thanks for all His amazing goodness to us.
Jesus knew. He knew why, He knew what it cost, He knew it was our sacrifice of thanksgiving to God. He didn't agree with Judas, He said that wherever the story of today was told, the story of this sacrifice would be told too.
We didn't know then what we know now. We didn't have any idea just what significance there was in what Mary had done on our behalf. We didn't realise how short time was for Him, how imminent His death was. I know, maybe we should have, but we didn't.
Now we do know, we are even more humbled to have been a small part of His story, anointing Him for His burial in that way with what was most precious to us, poured out on Him who is most precious to us!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, 19 May 2014
Friday, 16 May 2014
The Son of Man brings sight on the Sabbath (Healing of the man born blind. John 9)
I was born blind.
I grew up with the inherited stigma my parents felt about having a son who had been born blind.
They felt somehow they must have sinned against God for this to happen. They loved me, I know they did, but I also know without ever seeing their faces that every time they looked at me, or when I was older helped me to my place to beg, they were reminded of their sin.
It was never named, this 'sin', but like the runt of the litter of pups, I was cared for, was loved but them, but was a constant source of embarrassment to them. There are, you see, some things you know, you don't need eyes that see to know them.
One Sabbath day though, everything changed, yes, I mean everything.
When you beg, as is have done for many years, you learn to listen intently to some conversations, but filter out others which aren't as interesting or important.
This particular day, I heard a group of men walking together & as men do, discussing the world. My ears pricked up as I heard one ask of another 'Teacher, who sinned that this man was born blind?'
Oh-ho, I thought, I wish my parents were here to hear this discussion. Then, the Teacher spoke..... I knew He had to be the teacher for I'd not heard anyone speak with the kind of authority this guy did. I could picture Him in my my mind....He was probably a Pharisee, but if He was, He would have nothing to do with the likes of me, the dregs of society.
He spoke about doing the work of God whilst it was still light, because darkness would come soon.
Inside, I laughed, my life was full of darkness, yes, I could feel the heat of the sun & the difference with the coolness of the evening when the sun goes down, but light & dark? They were all the same to me. Still I was interested to hear His reply to their, well, let's be honest, to the question that had followed me throughout all my life.
His reply, actually everything about Jesus, for that was His name. His words, His voice, His authority surprised me. I remembered then that I had heard many others talk of Him, this healer from Galilee who worked miracles. He said to those following Him, 'Neither this man, nor his parents sinned, that isn't even the right question to ask! No, he was born blind that the glory of God might be seen through him.'
Well, what can you say in response to that? It left me with more questions than my brain had room to ask, but before either the men with Him, or I could ask any further questions, I heard someone spit on the ground.
I was grateful they'd missed me this time & expected they would move on & would miss the rest of the discussion, but a few seconds later I felt someone touch my eyes, spreading something on them. Then I heard Him, Jesus that is speak again, to me! He told me to go & wash in the pool called Sent. Well I wasn't far from that, I knew of it, I'd drunk from it, but didn't go too near it for if my helpers had to leave me, I didn't want to fall into it, so The place from which I begged was some distance from it.
People helped me to the pool & I knelt, feeling for the water which was deliciously cool despite the heat of the day. I washed off what felt like drying clay from my eyes & when I had done so, you won't believe what happened, but, I could see. I could see the ripples on the water, I could see people around me I could see them watching me. I COULD SEE!
My helpers, neighbours & friends couldn't believe it. Some who didn't know me well said I wasn't really the man born blind who used to beg just over there. I could look at them, I could see them & I told them, 'Yes, I am the guy who used to beg over there, I was born blind, but look, I can see.'
I know my whole face was alight with the smile that radiated from somewhere deep within me, but how could I not be filled with joy, I was blind, now I could see.
I told them the truth 'The man they call Jesus got some mud, put it on my eyes, told me to go wash in the Sent pool & when I did, I could see!' They wanted to know where He was, well I hadn't heard Him since I had washed in the pool, so I couldn't tell them.
They all decided I should go to the Pharisees, well I was still a bit dazed, but I thought this Jesus might be with them so I went there. They asked me the same question about how I had received my sight, so I told them the same thing 'He put mud on my eyes, told me to go & wash, I did & then I could see!'
I still didn't hear that voice of Jesus anywhere as they began discussing amongst themselves as to whether this Jesus was a sinner because He had healed on the Sabbath day. I remember thinking that a Sabbath day was the best day of all to be bringing glory to God & worshipping Him, which I was doing as joy indescribable was filling me.
Finally they turned to talk to me, I could see them turn, you won't understand what a joy that is, I didn't just hear the rustling of robes, but I could see them turn & look at me. They asked me then, 'What do you say about Him?' 'Well' I answered, 'He must at the very least be some sort of prophet.'
They still argued as I watched them & listened to them. What they were saying seemed so utterly trivial, could they not see, these people who had always been able to see, could they not see that I was blind, now I could see?
Still they discussed & argued about whether I had actually been blind. I wanted to laugh, but then they brought in my parents.
I saw them for the first time. They looked older than I'd imagined, smaller, bowed down by, well I don't know what, but weighed down. They looked fearful.
The Pharisees asked them, 'Is this your son? Do you still say he was born blind? How is it then that he can now see?'
My heart lurched as I looked at my poor bemused parents, so scared that their hard won standing in the community should be lost by saying they believed in Jesus' healing power because they could see the result of it in their own son.
I remembered then that the Pharisees had said that they would put out from the synagogue anyone who declared they believed His teaching. I felt deeply for these people who had loved & cared for me, their son, despite all the pain my being blind had caused them. I wanted them to meet Jesus, to hear what He had said before He healed me.
They were scared & their reply showed how scared they were, but even in their reply they showed they knew I had been healed by a miracle. They told the Pharisees that I was their son, but for anything else, to ask me, I was of age, it wasn't for them to answer for me. I admired them for that reply, for their faith in me to give an answer.
The Pharisees then asked me to tell the truth about what had happened saying now that they knew this Jesus to be a sinner! I simply told them 'I don't know whether He is a sinner, what I do know & am telling you the truth, I was blind, now, I can see!'
They asked again how He had opened my eyes? By this time I was getting a little confused, Why did they keep asking the same question these learned men of God?
I said 'I've told you a number of times what happened, why do you want to hear it yet again? Do you want to follow Him too?' I couldn't see why they couldn't understand.
I hadn't expected the anger & the venom they replied with. I'd known what it was being spat at before, but that was in derision, this was different, more sinister somehow. They spat their words to me in fury 'You must be one of His disciples, we are disciples of our father Moses. We know God spoke to Moses, but where this Jesus bloke is from, we have no idea!'
How could they say that? How could they not know? He had given this blind man the gift of sight, He had brought light into my dark world, He had brough freedom to my life, how could they then not know where He was from. How could anyone who was a sinner do the things that only God Himself can do? Whoever heard of a man being born blind yet made to see. It couldn't be anything other than the power of God, could it?
Their final retort simply made me laugh, as they instructed I be thrown out of the synagogue 'Surely you were steeped in sin at birth, get him out of here!' They thought they had all the answers, they were the teachers yet they knew nothing. My parents didn't need to fear them, they were fools who although not blind as I had been for so many years were nonetheless grovelling in a darkness far worse than mine had been, for they couldn't see what was standing in front of them!
As I went from the synagogue into the sunlight, I'd never realised how gloriously golden sunlight is & how it illuminates all it touches, I saw Him! I realised then that I didn't need to hear Him, I knew it was Him.
He asked me whether I believed in the Son of Man. I found myself replying 'Tell me who He is Sir, that I may believe'. As I said those words, I knew, I saw, I realised what He would say, who He really was. Jesus said '“You have now seen Him; in fact, He is the one speaking with you.”
I knew it, I'd guessed it, I'd realised it, so when He told me, I simply bowed down before Him & worshipped. What else was there to do?
This was the Messiah. He was God's Son of Man & He had done what the prophet of old had said, He had brought what I had, with all my new found sight only dimly glimpsed until that moment, He had brought freedom for this captive, sight for this blind man, joy instead of mourning, a cloak of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I grew up with the inherited stigma my parents felt about having a son who had been born blind.
They felt somehow they must have sinned against God for this to happen. They loved me, I know they did, but I also know without ever seeing their faces that every time they looked at me, or when I was older helped me to my place to beg, they were reminded of their sin.
It was never named, this 'sin', but like the runt of the litter of pups, I was cared for, was loved but them, but was a constant source of embarrassment to them. There are, you see, some things you know, you don't need eyes that see to know them.
One Sabbath day though, everything changed, yes, I mean everything.
When you beg, as is have done for many years, you learn to listen intently to some conversations, but filter out others which aren't as interesting or important.
This particular day, I heard a group of men walking together & as men do, discussing the world. My ears pricked up as I heard one ask of another 'Teacher, who sinned that this man was born blind?'
Oh-ho, I thought, I wish my parents were here to hear this discussion. Then, the Teacher spoke..... I knew He had to be the teacher for I'd not heard anyone speak with the kind of authority this guy did. I could picture Him in my my mind....He was probably a Pharisee, but if He was, He would have nothing to do with the likes of me, the dregs of society.
He spoke about doing the work of God whilst it was still light, because darkness would come soon.
Inside, I laughed, my life was full of darkness, yes, I could feel the heat of the sun & the difference with the coolness of the evening when the sun goes down, but light & dark? They were all the same to me. Still I was interested to hear His reply to their, well, let's be honest, to the question that had followed me throughout all my life.
His reply, actually everything about Jesus, for that was His name. His words, His voice, His authority surprised me. I remembered then that I had heard many others talk of Him, this healer from Galilee who worked miracles. He said to those following Him, 'Neither this man, nor his parents sinned, that isn't even the right question to ask! No, he was born blind that the glory of God might be seen through him.'
Well, what can you say in response to that? It left me with more questions than my brain had room to ask, but before either the men with Him, or I could ask any further questions, I heard someone spit on the ground.
I was grateful they'd missed me this time & expected they would move on & would miss the rest of the discussion, but a few seconds later I felt someone touch my eyes, spreading something on them. Then I heard Him, Jesus that is speak again, to me! He told me to go & wash in the pool called Sent. Well I wasn't far from that, I knew of it, I'd drunk from it, but didn't go too near it for if my helpers had to leave me, I didn't want to fall into it, so The place from which I begged was some distance from it.
People helped me to the pool & I knelt, feeling for the water which was deliciously cool despite the heat of the day. I washed off what felt like drying clay from my eyes & when I had done so, you won't believe what happened, but, I could see. I could see the ripples on the water, I could see people around me I could see them watching me. I COULD SEE!
My helpers, neighbours & friends couldn't believe it. Some who didn't know me well said I wasn't really the man born blind who used to beg just over there. I could look at them, I could see them & I told them, 'Yes, I am the guy who used to beg over there, I was born blind, but look, I can see.'
I know my whole face was alight with the smile that radiated from somewhere deep within me, but how could I not be filled with joy, I was blind, now I could see.
I told them the truth 'The man they call Jesus got some mud, put it on my eyes, told me to go wash in the Sent pool & when I did, I could see!' They wanted to know where He was, well I hadn't heard Him since I had washed in the pool, so I couldn't tell them.
They all decided I should go to the Pharisees, well I was still a bit dazed, but I thought this Jesus might be with them so I went there. They asked me the same question about how I had received my sight, so I told them the same thing 'He put mud on my eyes, told me to go & wash, I did & then I could see!'
I still didn't hear that voice of Jesus anywhere as they began discussing amongst themselves as to whether this Jesus was a sinner because He had healed on the Sabbath day. I remember thinking that a Sabbath day was the best day of all to be bringing glory to God & worshipping Him, which I was doing as joy indescribable was filling me.
Finally they turned to talk to me, I could see them turn, you won't understand what a joy that is, I didn't just hear the rustling of robes, but I could see them turn & look at me. They asked me then, 'What do you say about Him?' 'Well' I answered, 'He must at the very least be some sort of prophet.'
They still argued as I watched them & listened to them. What they were saying seemed so utterly trivial, could they not see, these people who had always been able to see, could they not see that I was blind, now I could see?
Still they discussed & argued about whether I had actually been blind. I wanted to laugh, but then they brought in my parents.
I saw them for the first time. They looked older than I'd imagined, smaller, bowed down by, well I don't know what, but weighed down. They looked fearful.
The Pharisees asked them, 'Is this your son? Do you still say he was born blind? How is it then that he can now see?'
My heart lurched as I looked at my poor bemused parents, so scared that their hard won standing in the community should be lost by saying they believed in Jesus' healing power because they could see the result of it in their own son.
I remembered then that the Pharisees had said that they would put out from the synagogue anyone who declared they believed His teaching. I felt deeply for these people who had loved & cared for me, their son, despite all the pain my being blind had caused them. I wanted them to meet Jesus, to hear what He had said before He healed me.
They were scared & their reply showed how scared they were, but even in their reply they showed they knew I had been healed by a miracle. They told the Pharisees that I was their son, but for anything else, to ask me, I was of age, it wasn't for them to answer for me. I admired them for that reply, for their faith in me to give an answer.
The Pharisees then asked me to tell the truth about what had happened saying now that they knew this Jesus to be a sinner! I simply told them 'I don't know whether He is a sinner, what I do know & am telling you the truth, I was blind, now, I can see!'
They asked again how He had opened my eyes? By this time I was getting a little confused, Why did they keep asking the same question these learned men of God?
I said 'I've told you a number of times what happened, why do you want to hear it yet again? Do you want to follow Him too?' I couldn't see why they couldn't understand.
I hadn't expected the anger & the venom they replied with. I'd known what it was being spat at before, but that was in derision, this was different, more sinister somehow. They spat their words to me in fury 'You must be one of His disciples, we are disciples of our father Moses. We know God spoke to Moses, but where this Jesus bloke is from, we have no idea!'
How could they say that? How could they not know? He had given this blind man the gift of sight, He had brought light into my dark world, He had brough freedom to my life, how could they then not know where He was from. How could anyone who was a sinner do the things that only God Himself can do? Whoever heard of a man being born blind yet made to see. It couldn't be anything other than the power of God, could it?
Their final retort simply made me laugh, as they instructed I be thrown out of the synagogue 'Surely you were steeped in sin at birth, get him out of here!' They thought they had all the answers, they were the teachers yet they knew nothing. My parents didn't need to fear them, they were fools who although not blind as I had been for so many years were nonetheless grovelling in a darkness far worse than mine had been, for they couldn't see what was standing in front of them!
As I went from the synagogue into the sunlight, I'd never realised how gloriously golden sunlight is & how it illuminates all it touches, I saw Him! I realised then that I didn't need to hear Him, I knew it was Him.
He asked me whether I believed in the Son of Man. I found myself replying 'Tell me who He is Sir, that I may believe'. As I said those words, I knew, I saw, I realised what He would say, who He really was. Jesus said '“You have now seen Him; in fact, He is the one speaking with you.”
I knew it, I'd guessed it, I'd realised it, so when He told me, I simply bowed down before Him & worshipped. What else was there to do?
This was the Messiah. He was God's Son of Man & He had done what the prophet of old had said, He had brought what I had, with all my new found sight only dimly glimpsed until that moment, He had brought freedom for this captive, sight for this blind man, joy instead of mourning, a cloak of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, 4 May 2014
The Water-giving Messiah. (The Samaritan woman at the well John 4:1-46)
My life began simply, but with such promise. My family all come from Sychar, we're known there. Like most women, I married young. He was, to begin with a good man, but he soon became not such a good man, then a wastrel really, drinking all day & rolling in drunk every night & I couldn't bear it. I asked him for a certificate of divorce as the law of the Moses dictates. To my surprise, he gave it to me!
After you have done that once my friend, it is so much easier to do it again, then again, then.......
Anyway, it wasn't really the life I would have chosen, this life I had become accustomed to.
It was as if with each certificate of divorce, I withdrew further & further from normal society. I became the black pariah in our town - everyone knew of me, but no-one wanted to know me.
It was ok, this half-life, it wasn't a bad life & I had what I needed, or at least I thought I did. Ok, I couldn't go to the market with everyone else because they pointed the finger, but going late to the market meant I got the bargains at the end of the day!
Going to get water from the well was the hardest really, because I had to go during the heat of the day to avoid the gossips & the slanderers.
Then, there was that day! That day above all other days, that day when it all changed!
I'd gone, just as I did every day, it was about noon. As I got to the well there was this man there. I set myself to ignore him, steeling myself, but as I drew closer, I realised He was a Jew & I didn't recognise Him at all, so I relaxed.
As I began to draw my water, He spoke to me - well, there was no-one else, so I knew He was speaking to me. He asked me to get Him a drink. Well, I was stunned on both counts - firstly that being a Jew, He would ask me, a Samaritan for a drink, but also that He a Jewish man, would even speak to me, a Samaritan woman! You know how things are between Jews & Samaritans!
'Well,' I said to Him 'How come you're a Jew & You're asking me, a Samaritan for water? We don't associate with one another, or has no-one told You that?' I had to smile. Surely no-one could not know that!
He said something really strange then, He said that if only I'd known who it was that was asking for water, I'd ask Him to give me living water. Well, I just laughed then. Boy, did laughing feel good after all this time, I couldn't help but laugh, He had no pitcher, nothing with which to draw water, yet He reckoned I should have been asking Him!
When I'd stopped laughing a little, I asked Him whether He thought He was greater than our forefather Jacob, (for it was at Jacob's well where I had met Him), that He could give me water?
It then got even more strange with this man from Galilee. He told me that everyone who drank of the water from Jacob's well would thirst again, but if you had some of His living water, you'd have your own wellspring & eternal life!
Well, who wouldn't want that eh? No more having to trudge to the well & for me, no more having to do it in the blistering heat of the noonday sun!
So, I said 'Sir, give me this wellspring of living water, so I don't have to come here every day, I'd really like that!'
His next words shook me, quelling any remaining laughter & bringing me back to reality with a jolt. He asked me to go & call my husband!
Ah, now there was the problem. Yet, what was so strange about this Galilean stranger was that I didn't think to lie, I didn't think to give excuses, It didn't occur to me to do anything other than be honest & tell Him I had no husband.
If I'd been amused, entertained & surprised before, now, I was confounded, for He told me He knew I'd answered truly, that He knew I'd had five husbands & the man I now lived with wasn't even my husband.
You know when you don't know what to say & you find yourself burbling, well, I began to burble at that point. I told Him I could see He was a prophet & asked the question every Samaritan reckons they want an answer from every Jew - not that they would ask it of course, because, as you know, Jews don't talk to Samaritans. I asked about our worship on this mountain - after all, we had the same forefather as them in Jacob.
He spoke of there being a time coming where we wouldn't worship on this mountain or even in Jerusalem - not that we did, of course. He said that we Samaritans didn't know who we worshipped, whereas the Jews did & that salvation would come from them, but that the Father (whoever He is) wanted true worshippers who would worship Him in honour & in reality with all of who they really are! Well everyone knows the stories from the Jews, even if we don't associate with them, don't they, about the Messiah who would come from the Jews & explain everything. I don't know even now, what made me think of it, but I said that to Him. As I did so, I looked at Him, I mean looked at Him properly & He looked at me even more intently.
The world stopped.
He said "I who am talking to you, I AM He."
I was astounded & the world which had stopped began, in my mind to spin - was this the Messiah? This man, sitting on Jacob's well in the heat of the day, this Jew talking me to me, a Samaritan woman, was this the promised Messiah? Out of the jumble of thoughts that had spun around in my head I realised then that actually I believed Him. I believed this stranger from Galilee, I believed I thought He was the Messiah & although I still don't fully understand why, I've never really been taught much about these things, I knew I had to tell other people I'd met Him.
I look back now & realise just how big a deal that was to do what I did after my encounter with Jesus - yes, I know His name now, at the time, I was simply compelled to go & tell people that I'd met Him, that they should come to meet Him too.
I forgot that they didn't talk to me, I forgot what I'd become, I forgot what they saw me as & I went & told them I'd met this Galilean who had told me everything I'd ever done & that I thought He might be the Messiah & that they should come & see for themselves.
Well, they did come & Jesus stayed around in our town for a couple of days because there were so many people who wanted to ask Him questions. I listened in, I listened to Him as He taught us all & life has never returned to that lonely place it was.
It never could, not when you've met the Messiah, the Saviour, not when you've met Jesus. Nothing can ever go back to what was, for life is different with Jesus.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
After you have done that once my friend, it is so much easier to do it again, then again, then.......
Anyway, it wasn't really the life I would have chosen, this life I had become accustomed to.
It was as if with each certificate of divorce, I withdrew further & further from normal society. I became the black pariah in our town - everyone knew of me, but no-one wanted to know me.
It was ok, this half-life, it wasn't a bad life & I had what I needed, or at least I thought I did. Ok, I couldn't go to the market with everyone else because they pointed the finger, but going late to the market meant I got the bargains at the end of the day!
Going to get water from the well was the hardest really, because I had to go during the heat of the day to avoid the gossips & the slanderers.
Then, there was that day! That day above all other days, that day when it all changed!
I'd gone, just as I did every day, it was about noon. As I got to the well there was this man there. I set myself to ignore him, steeling myself, but as I drew closer, I realised He was a Jew & I didn't recognise Him at all, so I relaxed.
As I began to draw my water, He spoke to me - well, there was no-one else, so I knew He was speaking to me. He asked me to get Him a drink. Well, I was stunned on both counts - firstly that being a Jew, He would ask me, a Samaritan for a drink, but also that He a Jewish man, would even speak to me, a Samaritan woman! You know how things are between Jews & Samaritans!
'Well,' I said to Him 'How come you're a Jew & You're asking me, a Samaritan for water? We don't associate with one another, or has no-one told You that?' I had to smile. Surely no-one could not know that!
He said something really strange then, He said that if only I'd known who it was that was asking for water, I'd ask Him to give me living water. Well, I just laughed then. Boy, did laughing feel good after all this time, I couldn't help but laugh, He had no pitcher, nothing with which to draw water, yet He reckoned I should have been asking Him!
When I'd stopped laughing a little, I asked Him whether He thought He was greater than our forefather Jacob, (for it was at Jacob's well where I had met Him), that He could give me water?
It then got even more strange with this man from Galilee. He told me that everyone who drank of the water from Jacob's well would thirst again, but if you had some of His living water, you'd have your own wellspring & eternal life!
Well, who wouldn't want that eh? No more having to trudge to the well & for me, no more having to do it in the blistering heat of the noonday sun!
So, I said 'Sir, give me this wellspring of living water, so I don't have to come here every day, I'd really like that!'
His next words shook me, quelling any remaining laughter & bringing me back to reality with a jolt. He asked me to go & call my husband!
Ah, now there was the problem. Yet, what was so strange about this Galilean stranger was that I didn't think to lie, I didn't think to give excuses, It didn't occur to me to do anything other than be honest & tell Him I had no husband.
If I'd been amused, entertained & surprised before, now, I was confounded, for He told me He knew I'd answered truly, that He knew I'd had five husbands & the man I now lived with wasn't even my husband.
You know when you don't know what to say & you find yourself burbling, well, I began to burble at that point. I told Him I could see He was a prophet & asked the question every Samaritan reckons they want an answer from every Jew - not that they would ask it of course, because, as you know, Jews don't talk to Samaritans. I asked about our worship on this mountain - after all, we had the same forefather as them in Jacob.
He spoke of there being a time coming where we wouldn't worship on this mountain or even in Jerusalem - not that we did, of course. He said that we Samaritans didn't know who we worshipped, whereas the Jews did & that salvation would come from them, but that the Father (whoever He is) wanted true worshippers who would worship Him in honour & in reality with all of who they really are! Well everyone knows the stories from the Jews, even if we don't associate with them, don't they, about the Messiah who would come from the Jews & explain everything. I don't know even now, what made me think of it, but I said that to Him. As I did so, I looked at Him, I mean looked at Him properly & He looked at me even more intently.
The world stopped.
He said "I who am talking to you, I AM He."
I was astounded & the world which had stopped began, in my mind to spin - was this the Messiah? This man, sitting on Jacob's well in the heat of the day, this Jew talking me to me, a Samaritan woman, was this the promised Messiah? Out of the jumble of thoughts that had spun around in my head I realised then that actually I believed Him. I believed this stranger from Galilee, I believed I thought He was the Messiah & although I still don't fully understand why, I've never really been taught much about these things, I knew I had to tell other people I'd met Him.
I look back now & realise just how big a deal that was to do what I did after my encounter with Jesus - yes, I know His name now, at the time, I was simply compelled to go & tell people that I'd met Him, that they should come to meet Him too.
I forgot that they didn't talk to me, I forgot what I'd become, I forgot what they saw me as & I went & told them I'd met this Galilean who had told me everything I'd ever done & that I thought He might be the Messiah & that they should come & see for themselves.
Well, they did come & Jesus stayed around in our town for a couple of days because there were so many people who wanted to ask Him questions. I listened in, I listened to Him as He taught us all & life has never returned to that lonely place it was.
It never could, not when you've met the Messiah, the Saviour, not when you've met Jesus. Nothing can ever go back to what was, for life is different with Jesus.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, 17 April 2014
A brush with true authority - Zacchaeus
I know I am despised. No-one who does what I do can avoid that. You are seen, by your own people as a collaborator, because you collect the taxes from the Romans.
It is also 'expected' by both the Romans & acknowledged by the people that you syphon off some of what you receive to line your own pockets. This I have done over many years - everyone I know does it, it's how we make our fortune.
I have a fortune now, I am a chief tax-collector, I have reached the pinnacle of my chosen career & far from it being the delight it promised to be, it is hollow. I have everything money can buy, yet in reality I have nothing of any worth at all.
Obviously I had heard of Jesus, who hadn't? I had heard of the miracles, of the teaching laced with authority & I admit, I was intrigued. Authority is a strange thing you see, I have authority over servants & minions who work for me, but within my heart I know I am a pretender at authority. I was intrigued to see true authority. So, when I knew He was coming to Jericho, the opportunity was too good to miss really.
I decided to take some time out & simply observe Him, watch Him, see what real authority looked like. I hadn't really bargained for the crowds. I obviously should have done, but I didn't. But, I hadn't got where I was without ingenuity & the ability to think round a problem, so I ran on ahead of the crowd & enjoyed again my boyhood delight at climbing up a sycamore tree. It is amazing how freeing that simple act was. It is as though when I climbed, the years fell away & my life was before me again, as in my youth & joy at both my ingenuity in outwitting the crowd & my hiddenness from them were intoxicating!
Nearer & nearer they came, He was in the midst of them with people all around Him, clamouring for His attention, for healing, for a touch to bring a blessing in their lives. Nearer & nearer they came & all the time I watched, I observed this man of authority & He truly is a man of authority. When you have spent your life emulating something, you know when you've seen & are confronted with the genuine article & in every sense that was what Jesus was!
The crowd stopped. He stopped. Right under the place where I was. I stopped breathing, although I didn't realise I was holding my breath. He looked straight up at me. Others followed His gaze & were surprised at seeing me, but He wasn't. He knew I was there, He'd always known I'd be there you see. True authority.
He looked straight at me & said 'Zacchaeus, I'm coming to your house, come down from your hiding place, come down & change those things which you know you need to & want to change in your life.'
If you ever come upon someone with true authority you do not hesitate. I scrambled down that tree with all the absence of dignity of an adolescent, because that was how I felt in His presence. He knew my name..... He knew my emptiness..... He knew my hearts desire.
He came into my house & ate with us, drank with us. That was the moment my life changed. It couldn't but change. You can't come into contact with genuine authority & it leave you unchanged.
All the townsfolk were incensed at His coming to eat with me at my house & it was at that point I realised that they had no idea how changed I was by my encounter with Him.
I stood, as one does on these occasions, but as I began to speak about giving back to the poor half of what I owned & of making good on any & every crooked dealing that had robbed anyone, the murmuring stopped. They looked at me strangely & I felt.....actually, I felt a minuscule sense of hearing authority in my own voice! Not the sham authority I had spouted most of my adult life which had, for all those years covered over my insecurity, but a standing tall authority which emulated His!
I looked at Him when I realised this & saw in His eyes & in His smile that He knew this too. In response, He declared to my neighbours & townsfolk, 'Today salvation has come to this household, for a true son of Abraham has been reborn to be his true self. For I have come that what has been lost might be found.'
I knew better than anyone the truth of those words, for He had restored to me the ability to be who I really am & stop being the actor I had pretended all my adult life to be.
That's the difference authentic authority makes.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
It is also 'expected' by both the Romans & acknowledged by the people that you syphon off some of what you receive to line your own pockets. This I have done over many years - everyone I know does it, it's how we make our fortune.
I have a fortune now, I am a chief tax-collector, I have reached the pinnacle of my chosen career & far from it being the delight it promised to be, it is hollow. I have everything money can buy, yet in reality I have nothing of any worth at all.
Obviously I had heard of Jesus, who hadn't? I had heard of the miracles, of the teaching laced with authority & I admit, I was intrigued. Authority is a strange thing you see, I have authority over servants & minions who work for me, but within my heart I know I am a pretender at authority. I was intrigued to see true authority. So, when I knew He was coming to Jericho, the opportunity was too good to miss really.
I decided to take some time out & simply observe Him, watch Him, see what real authority looked like. I hadn't really bargained for the crowds. I obviously should have done, but I didn't. But, I hadn't got where I was without ingenuity & the ability to think round a problem, so I ran on ahead of the crowd & enjoyed again my boyhood delight at climbing up a sycamore tree. It is amazing how freeing that simple act was. It is as though when I climbed, the years fell away & my life was before me again, as in my youth & joy at both my ingenuity in outwitting the crowd & my hiddenness from them were intoxicating!
Nearer & nearer they came, He was in the midst of them with people all around Him, clamouring for His attention, for healing, for a touch to bring a blessing in their lives. Nearer & nearer they came & all the time I watched, I observed this man of authority & He truly is a man of authority. When you have spent your life emulating something, you know when you've seen & are confronted with the genuine article & in every sense that was what Jesus was!
The crowd stopped. He stopped. Right under the place where I was. I stopped breathing, although I didn't realise I was holding my breath. He looked straight up at me. Others followed His gaze & were surprised at seeing me, but He wasn't. He knew I was there, He'd always known I'd be there you see. True authority.
He looked straight at me & said 'Zacchaeus, I'm coming to your house, come down from your hiding place, come down & change those things which you know you need to & want to change in your life.'
If you ever come upon someone with true authority you do not hesitate. I scrambled down that tree with all the absence of dignity of an adolescent, because that was how I felt in His presence. He knew my name..... He knew my emptiness..... He knew my hearts desire.
He came into my house & ate with us, drank with us. That was the moment my life changed. It couldn't but change. You can't come into contact with genuine authority & it leave you unchanged.
All the townsfolk were incensed at His coming to eat with me at my house & it was at that point I realised that they had no idea how changed I was by my encounter with Him.
I stood, as one does on these occasions, but as I began to speak about giving back to the poor half of what I owned & of making good on any & every crooked dealing that had robbed anyone, the murmuring stopped. They looked at me strangely & I felt.....actually, I felt a minuscule sense of hearing authority in my own voice! Not the sham authority I had spouted most of my adult life which had, for all those years covered over my insecurity, but a standing tall authority which emulated His!
I looked at Him when I realised this & saw in His eyes & in His smile that He knew this too. In response, He declared to my neighbours & townsfolk, 'Today salvation has come to this household, for a true son of Abraham has been reborn to be his true self. For I have come that what has been lost might be found.'
I knew better than anyone the truth of those words, for He had restored to me the ability to be who I really am & stop being the actor I had pretended all my adult life to be.
That's the difference authentic authority makes.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, 29 March 2014
Despair to hope by the way of love Luke 7:36-50
My life hasn't been easy. My father was cruel to me after my mother died & I grew up in a household of men, with four brothers. Each of them learned well from my father to be cruel & life wasn't easy. I was pledged to be married to a friend of my fathers who seemed to be honourable, but used me, casting me aside when he had finished using me & broke off our wedding. My father disowned me, assuming there was something in me that had caused his friend to discard me & I did the only thing I could do, I fell into a life of prostitution. After all, I reasoned, men had used me all my life & been cruel to me, I may as well be paid for it.
So my life went on, from year to year, a relentless, grey sameness, on & on. It had become an existence not a life I led & I thought nothing could or would ever change, that I deserved no less & certainly no more.
I hadn't bargained for meeting Jesus.
I'd been on the periphery of various crowds following him when I had first seen Him. It wasn't just that I had seen Him, but that, despite my being where I always tried to be, in the background, He had seen me. That was what was the undoing of me.
Once He'd seen me, He'd caught my eyes & there was something in His look, something different to every other man I had ever seen, or who had ever looked at me. Men normally look at me like I am a piece of meat with which they satiate their appetite, but they never see me. He'd looked at me & in that one look had seen into my very soul, yet though He had seen everything I am, there wasn't condemnation or loathing, but acceptance & what I knew despite never having experienced it, there was love.
I think it was that which made me go back again & again, each time I knew He was going to be in town. He had become a magnificent obsession for me from that one look. There had been other looks since that first one, each looking deeper & deeper into the fabric of who I really am, ignoring what others think of me. Each look drew me more & more. The compassion, sorrow, love & acceptance in His gaze drew me irresistibly like a moth to a flame.
Then I heard He was going to dinner at Simon's house. I knew Simon & Simon knew me, so did his servants, so I was able to get through the crowds there. I took my jar of perfume with me, for I knew what it was I wanted to do. He was reclining at the table & much talking was going on - Jesus spoke as He always did, answering their questions, asking them questions they couldn't answer.
As I sat at His feet the tears began. I unstopped the bottle of perfume to pour over His feet & as I did so it was like the uncorking of all of my life, all the cruelty, the using & abusing poured out of me in tears as I poured that perfume over His feet. I remember well the moment I realised that although I had brought the perfume, I had forgotten a towel to wipe it away, so did the only thing I could do & let down my hair & wiped His feet with my hair & as I did so, I began to kiss His feet to pour out some of the love & gratitude I felt towards Him.
It was strange because although I knew they were all beginning to look at me & be aware of what it was I was doing, especially as I let down my hair, nevertheless, I knew that where I was, in this place, at His feet was the safest place I had ever been in my life & I had no worries. There were so many tears, on & on through the years of heartbreak, I'd never allowed myself to cry before.
Suddenly I became aware of Simon mumbling to himself, that wasn't unusual, but I also became aware that Jesus was speaking to him.
He began to tell Simon one of His stories, His parables. I stopped crying to listen to Him talk of debts & of debtors, of one man who owed much money & of another who owed little, though neither could pay. When they were absolved from their debt Jesus asked, which would love more. Simon answered that it was the one who had been forgiven more, but you could tell he didn't know what Jesus was talking about & was irritated.
Then, Jesus turned to me, looking straight at me & told Simon that I had been washing His feet, kissing His feet, anointing His feet. Jesus knew the perfume I had used was costly, but He knew too that what I had done in full view of Simon & of all those people was just as costly.
Time stood still & my heart stopped as He looked straight into me & told me that my sins were forgiven because of the great love I had shown. My sins, all of them, every seedy, filthy, perverted sin, He knew them all yet they were forgiven by Him in that one moment. That one moment that changed the course of my life & set me free from my existence to live life & turned all my despair into hope.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
So my life went on, from year to year, a relentless, grey sameness, on & on. It had become an existence not a life I led & I thought nothing could or would ever change, that I deserved no less & certainly no more.
I hadn't bargained for meeting Jesus.
I'd been on the periphery of various crowds following him when I had first seen Him. It wasn't just that I had seen Him, but that, despite my being where I always tried to be, in the background, He had seen me. That was what was the undoing of me.
Once He'd seen me, He'd caught my eyes & there was something in His look, something different to every other man I had ever seen, or who had ever looked at me. Men normally look at me like I am a piece of meat with which they satiate their appetite, but they never see me. He'd looked at me & in that one look had seen into my very soul, yet though He had seen everything I am, there wasn't condemnation or loathing, but acceptance & what I knew despite never having experienced it, there was love.
I think it was that which made me go back again & again, each time I knew He was going to be in town. He had become a magnificent obsession for me from that one look. There had been other looks since that first one, each looking deeper & deeper into the fabric of who I really am, ignoring what others think of me. Each look drew me more & more. The compassion, sorrow, love & acceptance in His gaze drew me irresistibly like a moth to a flame.
Then I heard He was going to dinner at Simon's house. I knew Simon & Simon knew me, so did his servants, so I was able to get through the crowds there. I took my jar of perfume with me, for I knew what it was I wanted to do. He was reclining at the table & much talking was going on - Jesus spoke as He always did, answering their questions, asking them questions they couldn't answer.
As I sat at His feet the tears began. I unstopped the bottle of perfume to pour over His feet & as I did so it was like the uncorking of all of my life, all the cruelty, the using & abusing poured out of me in tears as I poured that perfume over His feet. I remember well the moment I realised that although I had brought the perfume, I had forgotten a towel to wipe it away, so did the only thing I could do & let down my hair & wiped His feet with my hair & as I did so, I began to kiss His feet to pour out some of the love & gratitude I felt towards Him.
It was strange because although I knew they were all beginning to look at me & be aware of what it was I was doing, especially as I let down my hair, nevertheless, I knew that where I was, in this place, at His feet was the safest place I had ever been in my life & I had no worries. There were so many tears, on & on through the years of heartbreak, I'd never allowed myself to cry before.
Suddenly I became aware of Simon mumbling to himself, that wasn't unusual, but I also became aware that Jesus was speaking to him.
He began to tell Simon one of His stories, His parables. I stopped crying to listen to Him talk of debts & of debtors, of one man who owed much money & of another who owed little, though neither could pay. When they were absolved from their debt Jesus asked, which would love more. Simon answered that it was the one who had been forgiven more, but you could tell he didn't know what Jesus was talking about & was irritated.
Then, Jesus turned to me, looking straight at me & told Simon that I had been washing His feet, kissing His feet, anointing His feet. Jesus knew the perfume I had used was costly, but He knew too that what I had done in full view of Simon & of all those people was just as costly.
Time stood still & my heart stopped as He looked straight into me & told me that my sins were forgiven because of the great love I had shown. My sins, all of them, every seedy, filthy, perverted sin, He knew them all yet they were forgiven by Him in that one moment. That one moment that changed the course of my life & set me free from my existence to live life & turned all my despair into hope.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, 27 March 2014
The widow of Nain's iWitness account
I am very proud of my son, I guess every mother is really. He's a good boy & he cares for me. He's all I've got since my husband died & I am grateful to God, so grateful.
I remember the day so well when he came home from his work with a fever. We both thought nothing of it & I did what every mother does & gave him broth to soothe his throat & made him comfortable, both of us thinking that the morning would see him improved.
I didn't sleep well that night, maybe in my heart there was something that made me realise this was more than a simple fever, I don't know. I do know that when I woke the next morning to begin preparing his breakfast, there was no sign of him readying himself for the day & when I went into him, he was worse, he was delirious.
That day and the morning of the next day passed in a blur, people coming & going as I had sent word of how ill he was & they came to offer me help & support. Along with others in our family & our neighbours I prayed much that day, pleading with God for him; hadn't He taken my husband, could He not spare me my son?
It was the afternoon of the second day when he died. The lament from those who were with me began & I was grateful for it. I had tears, but no strength to wail or lament, I was numb. The tears I did shed came from somewhere within me that was beyond that numbness, somewhere I presumably could feel the horror of my aloneness amidst my friends & neighbours.
I didn't have time to ponder why I felt hope, because the next words He spoke were to my son, my precious boy. He spoke directly to him, just as though He were waking him in the morning & telling him to rise up for a new day, He told him to rise up from death. My son sat up on his own funeral bier & spoke to Him, just like that, as though it was nothing & he had in fact been woken from sleep. He knew it was Jesus had brought him back to life, he recognised Him, praised God & thanked Him. Then he jumped down from the bier & Jesus gave him back to me. He really did, in every way give my son back to me.
How quickly can the despairing numbness of grief turn to joy? As quickly as the man, Jesus from Galilee speaks the words of life "Rise up!" That's how quickly.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I remember the day so well when he came home from his work with a fever. We both thought nothing of it & I did what every mother does & gave him broth to soothe his throat & made him comfortable, both of us thinking that the morning would see him improved.
I didn't sleep well that night, maybe in my heart there was something that made me realise this was more than a simple fever, I don't know. I do know that when I woke the next morning to begin preparing his breakfast, there was no sign of him readying himself for the day & when I went into him, he was worse, he was delirious.
That day and the morning of the next day passed in a blur, people coming & going as I had sent word of how ill he was & they came to offer me help & support. Along with others in our family & our neighbours I prayed much that day, pleading with God for him; hadn't He taken my husband, could He not spare me my son?
It was the afternoon of the second day when he died. The lament from those who were with me began & I was grateful for it. I had tears, but no strength to wail or lament, I was numb. The tears I did shed came from somewhere within me that was beyond that numbness, somewhere I presumably could feel the horror of my aloneness amidst my friends & neighbours.
The time came for them to carry him out & there was quite a crowd. At that same level of my mind that was still capable of feeling and of thought, I dimly wondered why there were so many people. Then He appeared. He stepped forward & touched the bier. We all stopped & I looked up at Him. I knew this had to be Jesus, the teacher people had spoken of, the one who healed.
He told me not to weep & somehow even at His words hope began to fill me, because those few words were spoken & filled with a love & compassion deeper than I had ever felt or experienced before.
He told me not to weep & somehow even at His words hope began to fill me, because those few words were spoken & filled with a love & compassion deeper than I had ever felt or experienced before.
I didn't have time to ponder why I felt hope, because the next words He spoke were to my son, my precious boy. He spoke directly to him, just as though He were waking him in the morning & telling him to rise up for a new day, He told him to rise up from death. My son sat up on his own funeral bier & spoke to Him, just like that, as though it was nothing & he had in fact been woken from sleep. He knew it was Jesus had brought him back to life, he recognised Him, praised God & thanked Him. Then he jumped down from the bier & Jesus gave him back to me. He really did, in every way give my son back to me.
How quickly can the despairing numbness of grief turn to joy? As quickly as the man, Jesus from Galilee speaks the words of life "Rise up!" That's how quickly.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, 1 March 2014
The crumbs for my daughter.
I knew He was coming our way, I'd heard about Him from so many others & I knew this had to be the Messiah the Jews had longed for. I knew that He had healed so many - lame people walking, blind people seeing, deaf hearing & most importantly demons cast out & the people set free.
He told His disciples that He had only come for the children of Israel, not for the likes of me.
He told me that it wouldn't be right to give a dog like me the food meant for the children.
It was at that point He spoke & told me that my faith was great & that it had been done for me as I wished! I had known that He was her only chance, I had known that He had to be who He said He was, or He couldn't have done what He was doing. Is that faith, or simply truth played out in my tenacity?
That was the thing, that was what I wanted. More than anything in the world that was what I wanted for my daughter, freedom from the demons that possessed her, but He was a Jewish teacher, a Jewish healer, nevertheless, I had to go.
I didn't care what people thought of me, I just went.....such a crowd were following Him, but I didn't care. Knowing I can make myself heard when I need to I yelled with all the pent up years of frustration & grief 'Oh Lord, Son of David, my darling daughter is dreadfully possessed by a demon, have mercy on her & on me.'
To begin with I thought He hadn't heard me because of all the rest of the people around me, but then I heard His disciples asking Him to do something to shut me up! Then I was upset - couldn't He see that I actually believed He could heal her.
He told His disciples that He had only come for the children of Israel, not for the likes of me.
I had to get to Him, I had to keep pushing, because He needed to see just how desperate I was. I finally was allowed to get in front of Him, at which point I dropped to my knees before Him, worshipping Him as the God-Man Messiah I realised He is, but through my worship the prayer that fills my life spilled over.
He told me that it wouldn't be right to give a dog like me the food meant for the children.
Now, I know what I am, I know I am not a child of Israel, I know in many people's eyes I am nothing, so His words did not shock me, but I was angry - even the smallest, weakest pup gets the crumbs that are too small for anyone else, surely I should be allowed to have those crumbs?
I told Him that & I would have stayed there all day arguing with Him, this was my one chance for my daughter & I'd have given everything I had to see her healed.
As I spoke & as I then waited, His whole demeanour changed & He looked at me, looked straight into my soul & I knew from that one look that there was acceptance. Acceptance for who I was, not for who I wasn't! I knew that He didn't see me as a dog really, He saw the longing of my heart for my daughter, but He also saw that I truly believed He was the Messiah of God. I don't know how I knew all this from one look, but believe me or believe me not, I just did!
It was at that point He spoke & told me that my faith was great & that it had been done for me as I wished! I had known that He was her only chance, I had known that He had to be who He said He was, or He couldn't have done what He was doing. Is that faith, or simply truth played out in my tenacity?
Either way, I shall never forget Him because after I had run home, my daughter for the first time was in her right mind - she was completely the child I had glimpsed within her apart from the demon that possessed her.
I knew it, I knew He had done it, even before I had got home, just as I knew that He had recognised me from that one look, that He had seen who I was & that despite what I am, He valued WHO I am.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, 20 February 2014
The lifter of my head - Mark5:25-34
I'd lost everything.
Well, everything that meant anything. My husband had all but gone, for he was an upright man who feared God & who kept the law, so could have nothing to do with me. If you knew the law of Moses you would know that I am unclean because of my illness.
Well, everything that meant anything. My husband had all but gone, for he was an upright man who feared God & who kept the law, so could have nothing to do with me. If you knew the law of Moses you would know that I am unclean because of my illness.
We lived in the same house, my husband & I but that was all. That was all there could be & all there had been for 12 years. Twelve long, draining years. It felt now as though this problem that I had would overwhelm me.
To begin with we had tried, he had tried, the doctors tried, but one by one eventually they would shake their heads, they would look that way at my husband that showed they had no idea what the problem was & how to treat it.
So, life went on.
I had heard about Jesus from someone who had been to the Decapolis towns & had heard about the weird guy who ran about in the tombs near when you get off the boat there & had heard about how this Jesus had healed him! No, really, He had healed him & now this Simon - no-one had even known his name before, was talking to everyone who would listen about his being healed & set free from demons by this Jesus.
Whoever it was that told me this story told it because Jesus was coming here, to our town. I remember thinking 'If only...' but that was followed up by another feeling that grew inside me & I couldn't put away from my mind, 'If I just touch the hem of His cloak....I don't need to bother Him, or even say why I am doing it..I don't need to draw attention to myself..'
Well I couldn't say, could I, He wouldn't have anything to do with me if I said what was wrong & all the people around would step back, being as I am unclean & I just couldn't deal with that on top of everything else. But I could go, I could just touch His cloak. Everyone knew that there would be crowds surrounding Him, no-one need ever know, but I would be healed if I could touch His cloak.
I'm not sure how I knew that or even why I was so sure. Like I said, it was something that grew inside me, a conviction that wouldn't go away, wouldn't be assuaged, ironically similar to my problem!
So, the day came, I joined the crowd, gradually working my way forward towards Jesus. His disciples couldn't even keep people a distance from Him, it was really a wonder He, they & all of us weren't crushed, but it suited my purpose. My one overriding purpose....to touch His cloak. He had Jairus with Him & they were on their way to Jairus' house. I knew his little girl was sick, so I guessed He was going to heal her. Gradually I got closer, closer, missed several times as another arm jostled mine to touch Him, but then, I did it, I touched His cloak!
The world stood still for a minute as the crowd carried on without me. I stood still because I knew I'd been healed. I knew within my body, within my mind, within my heart I was healed. I knew it every bit as certainly I had known I would be if I could only touch His cloak.
I realised then that the crowd had stopped moving & Jesus Himself was asking a question.
'Who touched my cloak?'
My heart was in my mouth, I was certain He meant me.
I didn't know how He knew, but He did know. His disciples began to protest, telling Him that many people had touched Him, the crowd was all around Him. Still He looked, He kept looking over heads, over & over & then I realised I'd have to say it was me. I really didn't want to, I really just wanted to go home, clean & healed.
I knew as His gaze began to move over towards me I had to own up. I had to say it was me. Ok, well I had no idea what I was going to say, I was terrified, but I fell at His feet. The pain, the anguish & all the upset of twelve years poured out of me as I told Him why & how I'd just known if I touched His cloak, I'd be healed & I was healed. He had healed me.
He bent down & lifted my head, oh so gently & tenderly. The look of love & acceptance in His eyes was so powerful it swept away all my fear & worry. He wasn't going to berate me. He wasn't angry at all with me.
Then, He spoke. To me!
What He said will stay with me forever 'Daughter, your faith & trust in Me has healed you. Go now, do not fear this will return, continue in your healing.' I can't describe how He spoke or explain just how different it seemed from anyone else who had ever spoken to me, but His words, His way, was more the defining moment in my life than even being healed, or at least it seemed so to me in that moment.
Since then, well, I have my life back. Where before there was pain & I just kept my head down & did what I could, keeping myself to myself, now, it was as though sunshine had entered into my life. When He had lifted my head, it was as though He had done so for all the rest of my life. I could hold my head high now, I could live life to the full. I think in the Scriptures King David wrote that 'He is my glory & the lifter of my head.' I claim that too for I knew it to be true. He was. He is & always will be.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
To begin with we had tried, he had tried, the doctors tried, but one by one eventually they would shake their heads, they would look that way at my husband that showed they had no idea what the problem was & how to treat it.
So, life went on.
I had heard about Jesus from someone who had been to the Decapolis towns & had heard about the weird guy who ran about in the tombs near when you get off the boat there & had heard about how this Jesus had healed him! No, really, He had healed him & now this Simon - no-one had even known his name before, was talking to everyone who would listen about his being healed & set free from demons by this Jesus.
Whoever it was that told me this story told it because Jesus was coming here, to our town. I remember thinking 'If only...' but that was followed up by another feeling that grew inside me & I couldn't put away from my mind, 'If I just touch the hem of His cloak....I don't need to bother Him, or even say why I am doing it..I don't need to draw attention to myself..'
Well I couldn't say, could I, He wouldn't have anything to do with me if I said what was wrong & all the people around would step back, being as I am unclean & I just couldn't deal with that on top of everything else. But I could go, I could just touch His cloak. Everyone knew that there would be crowds surrounding Him, no-one need ever know, but I would be healed if I could touch His cloak.
I'm not sure how I knew that or even why I was so sure. Like I said, it was something that grew inside me, a conviction that wouldn't go away, wouldn't be assuaged, ironically similar to my problem!
So, the day came, I joined the crowd, gradually working my way forward towards Jesus. His disciples couldn't even keep people a distance from Him, it was really a wonder He, they & all of us weren't crushed, but it suited my purpose. My one overriding purpose....to touch His cloak. He had Jairus with Him & they were on their way to Jairus' house. I knew his little girl was sick, so I guessed He was going to heal her. Gradually I got closer, closer, missed several times as another arm jostled mine to touch Him, but then, I did it, I touched His cloak!
The world stood still for a minute as the crowd carried on without me. I stood still because I knew I'd been healed. I knew within my body, within my mind, within my heart I was healed. I knew it every bit as certainly I had known I would be if I could only touch His cloak.
I realised then that the crowd had stopped moving & Jesus Himself was asking a question.
'Who touched my cloak?'
My heart was in my mouth, I was certain He meant me.
I didn't know how He knew, but He did know. His disciples began to protest, telling Him that many people had touched Him, the crowd was all around Him. Still He looked, He kept looking over heads, over & over & then I realised I'd have to say it was me. I really didn't want to, I really just wanted to go home, clean & healed.
I knew as His gaze began to move over towards me I had to own up. I had to say it was me. Ok, well I had no idea what I was going to say, I was terrified, but I fell at His feet. The pain, the anguish & all the upset of twelve years poured out of me as I told Him why & how I'd just known if I touched His cloak, I'd be healed & I was healed. He had healed me.
He bent down & lifted my head, oh so gently & tenderly. The look of love & acceptance in His eyes was so powerful it swept away all my fear & worry. He wasn't going to berate me. He wasn't angry at all with me.
Then, He spoke. To me!
What He said will stay with me forever 'Daughter, your faith & trust in Me has healed you. Go now, do not fear this will return, continue in your healing.' I can't describe how He spoke or explain just how different it seemed from anyone else who had ever spoken to me, but His words, His way, was more the defining moment in my life than even being healed, or at least it seemed so to me in that moment.
Since then, well, I have my life back. Where before there was pain & I just kept my head down & did what I could, keeping myself to myself, now, it was as though sunshine had entered into my life. When He had lifted my head, it was as though He had done so for all the rest of my life. I could hold my head high now, I could live life to the full. I think in the Scriptures King David wrote that 'He is my glory & the lifter of my head.' I claim that too for I knew it to be true. He was. He is & always will be.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, 14 February 2014
The resurrection!
We were in the Upper room. It had become where we spent most of our time now..... The new now, after what happened on Friday.
Somehow being together made what we had learned & what we thought & what we'd seen & given our lives to for three years more, well more as though it hadn't been a complete waste of time. We were still raw with all that had happened just three days ago, on Friday. Only three days, three days that might just as well have been three years for it seemed to us then that we couldn't really remember things Jesus had said when He was with us, because you see, Jesus was dead & that changed everything!
All we had given up, all the hope we had placed in Him, gone. We couldn't go back to our lives before because to do so seemed like ultimately admitting that we had wasted 3 years on this man who we thought was the Messiah, who we had thought would save His people, just as David & the prophets had said the Messiah would, but He, Jesus, was dead.
I couldn't believe it was a waste, I couldn't believe it had all been in vain, yet......here we were. We seemed to lurch one after another from despair to grief to acceptance & round again & again.
So, it's Sunday.
It's morning & as we stir from the dreamless sleep of the exhausted we realised that Mary Magdalene & the other Mary had gone. They said they would, they wanted to take the spices to anoint His body. None of the rest of us could face it really, brought it home too much I guess.
Before we'd had time to collect our thoughts even, the two of them arrived back. They were really upset - 'They've taken Him, they've taken Him...He's not there.'
At that point it was Peter & I that looked at one another & without a word, ran. We didn't need to ask who or where, we simply ran as though our lives depended on it, for in every way that is important, our lives did depend on it. We ran to the tomb.
Sure enough, the guards were gone - they'd gone back to the priests we assumed, but what of the body? What was the point of them taking His body? The stone wasn't across the face of the tomb - the stone wasn't even in its groove, it was clean out & leaning against the side of the tomb - I remember thinking how strange that was. All these things run through your mind in milliseconds as you run towards your goal. I got there first, Peter couldn't keep up, but I stood there trying to make sense of it.
When Peter caught up with me, he went straight into the tomb itself. I followed & saw there was nothing there. Well, I say nothing, but there was, there were the burial cloths. I'd seen Joseph wrap His poor broken lifeless body in them on that awful Friday, just three days ago, but here they were folded in this tomb. Even the one we wrapped around His bloodied head was rolled up at the end.
It was at that point like my mind had suddenly been freed to remember what He'd said. You see, He'd said this, He'd said He would rise, He'd known He would die & He said He'd rise. Was it actually all true? Had He risen, risen from death?
Belief & hope flooded my whole body. If He had, if it was true, then everything fell back into place like the picture you see when a mosaic is complete. We'd seen fragments before, but now, I thought, for the first time, I think I am beginning to see something of the full picture. I needed thinking time, so I went home to ponder.
Mary told us she wanted to wait behind at the tomb, she said she felt closer to Him there, even though his body had gone. I'm glad she did because of what happened next.
I hadn't been home too long when Mary arrived at my door, I'd left her weeping by that tomb, but this was a very different Mary, banging on our door & babbling....'Angels....seen Him....risen....like He said'
We all met back then in the Upper room. What a difference from the mood of the morning! We almost didn't dare believe it, but when we all listened together to what Mary had seen - angels telling her He had risen, then turning & seeing Him & Him speaking her name & knowing it was Him just confirmed what Peter & I had almost not dared to believe, despite with all our hearts wanting to believe that all He had said was true. That He is the Son of Man & He has risen from being dead!
But before we could fully digest what had happened to Mary, & what she was telling us, He was there! Honestly, He was suddenly just, there! He looked at us all & said 'Peace to you!'
My first thought was that it really was only 4 days ago when He'd last said that to us in this very room, where He'd explained that His peace wasn't like the peace the world gives. So very much had happened since then, but now, here He was, risen from the dead.
As I looked at Him there was something of that brilliance & radiance Peter, James & I had seen when we went up & saw Him transfigured before us, yet it was Jesus. It was the Jesus we'd all known for so long.
Jesus was alive!
Jesus had risen! How can I describe that to you? It was like having lived all your life in a cave & coming out suddenly into sunlight with all it's warmth & light & beauty.
When He held out His hands & spoke peace to us we could see the nail marks on His hands. I looked at His feet & there the nail marks were. It really is Jesus, I thought.
I wanted to laugh, to cry, to jump, to hug Him, to dance & to ask a million questions, but there was time for that. For now it was enough that He was here.
Jesus was alive!
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Somehow being together made what we had learned & what we thought & what we'd seen & given our lives to for three years more, well more as though it hadn't been a complete waste of time. We were still raw with all that had happened just three days ago, on Friday. Only three days, three days that might just as well have been three years for it seemed to us then that we couldn't really remember things Jesus had said when He was with us, because you see, Jesus was dead & that changed everything!
All we had given up, all the hope we had placed in Him, gone. We couldn't go back to our lives before because to do so seemed like ultimately admitting that we had wasted 3 years on this man who we thought was the Messiah, who we had thought would save His people, just as David & the prophets had said the Messiah would, but He, Jesus, was dead.
I couldn't believe it was a waste, I couldn't believe it had all been in vain, yet......here we were. We seemed to lurch one after another from despair to grief to acceptance & round again & again.
So, it's Sunday.
It's morning & as we stir from the dreamless sleep of the exhausted we realised that Mary Magdalene & the other Mary had gone. They said they would, they wanted to take the spices to anoint His body. None of the rest of us could face it really, brought it home too much I guess.
Before we'd had time to collect our thoughts even, the two of them arrived back. They were really upset - 'They've taken Him, they've taken Him...He's not there.'
At that point it was Peter & I that looked at one another & without a word, ran. We didn't need to ask who or where, we simply ran as though our lives depended on it, for in every way that is important, our lives did depend on it. We ran to the tomb.
Sure enough, the guards were gone - they'd gone back to the priests we assumed, but what of the body? What was the point of them taking His body? The stone wasn't across the face of the tomb - the stone wasn't even in its groove, it was clean out & leaning against the side of the tomb - I remember thinking how strange that was. All these things run through your mind in milliseconds as you run towards your goal. I got there first, Peter couldn't keep up, but I stood there trying to make sense of it.
When Peter caught up with me, he went straight into the tomb itself. I followed & saw there was nothing there. Well, I say nothing, but there was, there were the burial cloths. I'd seen Joseph wrap His poor broken lifeless body in them on that awful Friday, just three days ago, but here they were folded in this tomb. Even the one we wrapped around His bloodied head was rolled up at the end.
It was at that point like my mind had suddenly been freed to remember what He'd said. You see, He'd said this, He'd said He would rise, He'd known He would die & He said He'd rise. Was it actually all true? Had He risen, risen from death?
Belief & hope flooded my whole body. If He had, if it was true, then everything fell back into place like the picture you see when a mosaic is complete. We'd seen fragments before, but now, I thought, for the first time, I think I am beginning to see something of the full picture. I needed thinking time, so I went home to ponder.
Mary told us she wanted to wait behind at the tomb, she said she felt closer to Him there, even though his body had gone. I'm glad she did because of what happened next.
I hadn't been home too long when Mary arrived at my door, I'd left her weeping by that tomb, but this was a very different Mary, banging on our door & babbling....'Angels....seen Him....risen....like He said'
We all met back then in the Upper room. What a difference from the mood of the morning! We almost didn't dare believe it, but when we all listened together to what Mary had seen - angels telling her He had risen, then turning & seeing Him & Him speaking her name & knowing it was Him just confirmed what Peter & I had almost not dared to believe, despite with all our hearts wanting to believe that all He had said was true. That He is the Son of Man & He has risen from being dead!
But before we could fully digest what had happened to Mary, & what she was telling us, He was there! Honestly, He was suddenly just, there! He looked at us all & said 'Peace to you!'
My first thought was that it really was only 4 days ago when He'd last said that to us in this very room, where He'd explained that His peace wasn't like the peace the world gives. So very much had happened since then, but now, here He was, risen from the dead.
As I looked at Him there was something of that brilliance & radiance Peter, James & I had seen when we went up & saw Him transfigured before us, yet it was Jesus. It was the Jesus we'd all known for so long.
Jesus was alive!
Jesus had risen! How can I describe that to you? It was like having lived all your life in a cave & coming out suddenly into sunlight with all it's warmth & light & beauty.
When He held out His hands & spoke peace to us we could see the nail marks on His hands. I looked at His feet & there the nail marks were. It really is Jesus, I thought.
I wanted to laugh, to cry, to jump, to hug Him, to dance & to ask a million questions, but there was time for that. For now it was enough that He was here.
Jesus was alive!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, 13 February 2014
An eye witness view of Jesus' crucifixion
We all stood there, at the foot of those three crosses on Golgotha's hill. The sky was dark , almost as if night had come early to cover up this dreadful injustice. It seemed like forever that we stood there, quite a band of us, powerless to do anything other than wait. Despite the horror of the previous few hours where we saw Jesus carry the cross, when we heard his anguished cries as He was nailed, hand & foot to that wretched instrument of torture, when we heard the sickening thud as the cross was lifted upright & sank into it's prepared hole - that thud which will remain with me forever & Jesus' cry as the force of it shook his whole bruised & battered body; when we had heard the priests & the soldiers spit their venom at Him, taunting Him, despite all else they had done, they simply couldn't help themselves being the snakes in the grass they truly are. Despite all of that, we still hoped, still dared to hope that He would come down from that cross, that He would work another miracle, that He would come down in glory with God's angels. But his breathing got worse, more laboured, more painful. Louder & louder until all I could hear were these rasping, gasping breaths in the darkness. Time had no meaning any more....we were there with that sound & it felt like forever.
Jesus looked down at us all & saw His mum Mary there. He looked at John & told him to take care of her. How like Jesus that was - thinking of someone else even though He was there on that wretched cross, dying!
It was 3 o'clock, though it felt later, when suddenly Jesus Himself cried out. The sound of His laboured breathing was bad enough, but to hear that cry of abandonment from Him who spoke constantly of His close relationship with His Father, of that relationship from which He seemed to draw His strength & seemed to submit himself to, was heart-breaking, gut-wrenching & was the most hopeless cry I had ever heard in my life. 'My God, my God, why have You abandoned me?' If God had abandoned Him, what hope for the rest of us? We all knew then I think, that He wasn't coming down, that there would be no glorious angelic visitation, that there was only one way this was going to end.
Someone, I can't remember who, tried to give Him some of that bitter wine they keep by the crosses, revolting stuff, & it was then we realised that the chief priests & some of the others who had insulted Him & spat out their venom at Him were still there, still watching, waiting like we were, but that darkness had hidden them. They clearly couldn't hear Him properly, they were too far away & they thought He was calling Elijah! It would have been funny, them being so clever & all, not even knowing that what Jesus had really said was worse than that, so very much worse.
It didn't matter anyway, they could say what they liked now, do what they liked now, none of it mattered anyway. Jesus was dying. Jesus had been abandoned by God, His Father. Jesus, our hope, our friend, Jesus the miracle-worker, the freedom-giver, the one who they proclaimed as Messiah less than a week ago as He rode into Jerusalem on that donkey. JESUS WAS DYING.
His breathing was getting louder, but there were gaps between the breaths now, horrible deathly long gaps. Then, He cried out again, but this was a different cry, a cry more like the Jesus we knew, a cry that said 'IT IS FINISHED.'
Then.....silence.........for a few seconds which seemed like hours.
I remember thinking at the time that He sounded as though He'd beaten something, but then, that silence........
I know it can only have been for a few seconds, because then we heard the earthquake, we felt the earthquake & there were people shouting about graves being broken open, about the dead being raised to life. Why were they surprised? Jesus had died, but that enormous death, like a millstone thrown into still water caused ripples which were felt as dead people came to life again. Someone came running to those priests & told them that the curtain of the temple had been torn in two from top to bottom - imagine that! Top to bottom it had been torn in two. Just at the time Jesus died, that huge curtain tore.
We had no idea what it all meant, but we knew it was all to do with Jesus, even the priests knew that much, but where it brought a glimmer of light in that awful darkness to us that Jesus was still who He had said He was, it freaked them out! We were all still left though with the fact that Jesus was dead.
Joseph came then, a good guy who had spent time with us & with Jesus. He asked to take Jesus' body & offered a grave, the grave he had planned for his burial. They said he could take Jesus' body, so we all set to brining His body down & preparing it, Joseph had brought the embalming creams & cloths - I remember being so grateful for that. We hadn't thought of it, we were so absorbed in being there with Jesus, we hadn't given any thought to afterwards!
The men took his wrapped body to the beautiful tomb in a lovely garden & placed him in the tomb. We closed it & then waited. I have no idea why we waited then, we were simply numb & wanted even then to somehow be near Him, so we waited, we sat, holding each other in a vain attempt at comfort, though none could be found.
After some little while soldiers came to the grave - we could see those snakes, the priests in the background watching them. If I could have felt anything, I would have felt anger then, but I couldn't feel anything. It turned out that the priests had said we might steal Jesus' body & say He had been raised from death as He said He would. How typical of them to think we would be as devious as them. It hadn't occurred to us, because the worst had happened. Jesus was dead.
This was only the beginning! I know that now, but I didn't know it then. The next three days seemed such a long time until the story continued, but continue it did, because His death wasn't the end, but the beginning.
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Jesus looked down at us all & saw His mum Mary there. He looked at John & told him to take care of her. How like Jesus that was - thinking of someone else even though He was there on that wretched cross, dying!
It was 3 o'clock, though it felt later, when suddenly Jesus Himself cried out. The sound of His laboured breathing was bad enough, but to hear that cry of abandonment from Him who spoke constantly of His close relationship with His Father, of that relationship from which He seemed to draw His strength & seemed to submit himself to, was heart-breaking, gut-wrenching & was the most hopeless cry I had ever heard in my life. 'My God, my God, why have You abandoned me?' If God had abandoned Him, what hope for the rest of us? We all knew then I think, that He wasn't coming down, that there would be no glorious angelic visitation, that there was only one way this was going to end.
Someone, I can't remember who, tried to give Him some of that bitter wine they keep by the crosses, revolting stuff, & it was then we realised that the chief priests & some of the others who had insulted Him & spat out their venom at Him were still there, still watching, waiting like we were, but that darkness had hidden them. They clearly couldn't hear Him properly, they were too far away & they thought He was calling Elijah! It would have been funny, them being so clever & all, not even knowing that what Jesus had really said was worse than that, so very much worse.
It didn't matter anyway, they could say what they liked now, do what they liked now, none of it mattered anyway. Jesus was dying. Jesus had been abandoned by God, His Father. Jesus, our hope, our friend, Jesus the miracle-worker, the freedom-giver, the one who they proclaimed as Messiah less than a week ago as He rode into Jerusalem on that donkey. JESUS WAS DYING.
His breathing was getting louder, but there were gaps between the breaths now, horrible deathly long gaps. Then, He cried out again, but this was a different cry, a cry more like the Jesus we knew, a cry that said 'IT IS FINISHED.'
Then.....silence.........for a few seconds which seemed like hours.
I remember thinking at the time that He sounded as though He'd beaten something, but then, that silence........
I know it can only have been for a few seconds, because then we heard the earthquake, we felt the earthquake & there were people shouting about graves being broken open, about the dead being raised to life. Why were they surprised? Jesus had died, but that enormous death, like a millstone thrown into still water caused ripples which were felt as dead people came to life again. Someone came running to those priests & told them that the curtain of the temple had been torn in two from top to bottom - imagine that! Top to bottom it had been torn in two. Just at the time Jesus died, that huge curtain tore.
We had no idea what it all meant, but we knew it was all to do with Jesus, even the priests knew that much, but where it brought a glimmer of light in that awful darkness to us that Jesus was still who He had said He was, it freaked them out! We were all still left though with the fact that Jesus was dead.
Joseph came then, a good guy who had spent time with us & with Jesus. He asked to take Jesus' body & offered a grave, the grave he had planned for his burial. They said he could take Jesus' body, so we all set to brining His body down & preparing it, Joseph had brought the embalming creams & cloths - I remember being so grateful for that. We hadn't thought of it, we were so absorbed in being there with Jesus, we hadn't given any thought to afterwards!
The men took his wrapped body to the beautiful tomb in a lovely garden & placed him in the tomb. We closed it & then waited. I have no idea why we waited then, we were simply numb & wanted even then to somehow be near Him, so we waited, we sat, holding each other in a vain attempt at comfort, though none could be found.
After some little while soldiers came to the grave - we could see those snakes, the priests in the background watching them. If I could have felt anything, I would have felt anger then, but I couldn't feel anything. It turned out that the priests had said we might steal Jesus' body & say He had been raised from death as He said He would. How typical of them to think we would be as devious as them. It hadn't occurred to us, because the worst had happened. Jesus was dead.
This was only the beginning! I know that now, but I didn't know it then. The next three days seemed such a long time until the story continued, but continue it did, because His death wasn't the end, but the beginning.
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Friday, 31 January 2014
The transfiguration!
Jesus invited us, Peter, James & I to go up with him on the mountainside to pray. Although we were all tired, I was delighted for I truly wanted to know just how He prayed & how He drew such strength from His Father through those times. Yet, that wasn't actually what happened.
We climbed up together but then Jesus moved away from us. As He drew away from us slightly, I was aware of that kind of tingling you get when there is almost a spark of anticipation (it comes more often being with Jesus than it ever did before) that crackle of being infinitely in the present moment & being in the presence of God.
I looked up at Jesus & as I did so, it was as though He was being clothed from head to toe in light, but not light as we would normally see it, this light had a luminous quality & a brightness & clarity to it that wasn't of the earth. It didn't hurt my eyes in any way, yet it was the brightest of lights I had ever seen. Jesus was utterly transformed. It was still Jesus, but more than Jesus. He was brighter, bigger, totally majestic & awe-inspiring. All His features became more than they were, it's hard to put into words, but His eyes were terrifyingly beautiful & powerful, even more than usual. You knew He would be able to see the very depths of your heart if he were to look at you. His face looked just like the sun in all it's splendour & the three of us were bathed in the light from Him, a light which transformed us just as sunlight transforms that which it touches in its radiance.
As we watched and my eyes became used to seeing this light from Him, I saw that there were two others with Him. I thought to begin with it might have been James & Peter as I had been so wrapped up in this scene before me, but they were just as absorbed by it all as I was. None of us were sleepy any more!
As I looked more closely, I saw it was Moses & Elijah with Jesus, speaking to Him in a way that they had clearly known Him so deeply & so well. I guess that was only to be expected. Yet even in this, I just knew this was a new thing we were seeing, a culmination & a bringing together of both the Torah & Prophetic teaching. Not a superseding, but a glorious marriage of them both & it seemed to me of all history to this very moment.
They looked as though they were about to leave when Peter then got up & said he'd build a shelter for the three of them & for us to stay there. I understood what he wanted & why he wanted to stay there, because it was the kind of place & kind of sight that you could gaze on forever & never become bored with. I also knew that there was no way this was going to happen, no way Jesus would allow this & no way this was something that you could stay simply looking at. Just as Peter had finished speaking a glorious cloud began to descend on the three of them & on us. There was weight to this cloud & I knew that this was what our fathers had seen as they journeyed in the wilderness, this was the cloud of the glorious presence of God!
I was enthralled & then came the Voice! The Voice of God. We heard the voice of God speaking! That was it, we couldn't watch any more. We were flat on our faces in awe, fear, reverence, amazement - too much to explain in mere human words. We heard Him say 'This is My Son, My Beloved, with Whom I am [and have always been] delighted. Listen to Him!' We were hearing the very Voice of the Almighty. We were disciples following the Beloved of The Lord. My mind struggled with the fullness of all we had seen & experienced & time stood still......
The next thing I remember was hearing the voice of Jesus. You know, I realise now the reason He always spoke with power is because His voice was like His Father's voice & carried that same authority. When I looked up, it was simply the Jesus we had known & loved, telling us not to be afraid. I realised then that the terror we had felt was a holy terror, not like fear in the human sense, but a different kind of fear. Jesus was as He had always been & yet, I certainly couldn't see Him as the same as before we had been up that mountainside & seen what we had seen & heard what we had heard.
Peter & James asked Him questions about Elijah coming before the Christ & I simply listened to them all, as everything Jesus said in answer to their questions fell into place like a mosaic does when you see the full picture. Of course, John the Baptist had been a kind of Elijah, it was so obvious, why hadn't we seen it before. But actually, I realised, nothing, nothing at all would ever be as it was before.......
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
We climbed up together but then Jesus moved away from us. As He drew away from us slightly, I was aware of that kind of tingling you get when there is almost a spark of anticipation (it comes more often being with Jesus than it ever did before) that crackle of being infinitely in the present moment & being in the presence of God.
I looked up at Jesus & as I did so, it was as though He was being clothed from head to toe in light, but not light as we would normally see it, this light had a luminous quality & a brightness & clarity to it that wasn't of the earth. It didn't hurt my eyes in any way, yet it was the brightest of lights I had ever seen. Jesus was utterly transformed. It was still Jesus, but more than Jesus. He was brighter, bigger, totally majestic & awe-inspiring. All His features became more than they were, it's hard to put into words, but His eyes were terrifyingly beautiful & powerful, even more than usual. You knew He would be able to see the very depths of your heart if he were to look at you. His face looked just like the sun in all it's splendour & the three of us were bathed in the light from Him, a light which transformed us just as sunlight transforms that which it touches in its radiance.
As we watched and my eyes became used to seeing this light from Him, I saw that there were two others with Him. I thought to begin with it might have been James & Peter as I had been so wrapped up in this scene before me, but they were just as absorbed by it all as I was. None of us were sleepy any more!
As I looked more closely, I saw it was Moses & Elijah with Jesus, speaking to Him in a way that they had clearly known Him so deeply & so well. I guess that was only to be expected. Yet even in this, I just knew this was a new thing we were seeing, a culmination & a bringing together of both the Torah & Prophetic teaching. Not a superseding, but a glorious marriage of them both & it seemed to me of all history to this very moment.
They looked as though they were about to leave when Peter then got up & said he'd build a shelter for the three of them & for us to stay there. I understood what he wanted & why he wanted to stay there, because it was the kind of place & kind of sight that you could gaze on forever & never become bored with. I also knew that there was no way this was going to happen, no way Jesus would allow this & no way this was something that you could stay simply looking at. Just as Peter had finished speaking a glorious cloud began to descend on the three of them & on us. There was weight to this cloud & I knew that this was what our fathers had seen as they journeyed in the wilderness, this was the cloud of the glorious presence of God!
I was enthralled & then came the Voice! The Voice of God. We heard the voice of God speaking! That was it, we couldn't watch any more. We were flat on our faces in awe, fear, reverence, amazement - too much to explain in mere human words. We heard Him say 'This is My Son, My Beloved, with Whom I am [and have always been] delighted. Listen to Him!' We were hearing the very Voice of the Almighty. We were disciples following the Beloved of The Lord. My mind struggled with the fullness of all we had seen & experienced & time stood still......
The next thing I remember was hearing the voice of Jesus. You know, I realise now the reason He always spoke with power is because His voice was like His Father's voice & carried that same authority. When I looked up, it was simply the Jesus we had known & loved, telling us not to be afraid. I realised then that the terror we had felt was a holy terror, not like fear in the human sense, but a different kind of fear. Jesus was as He had always been & yet, I certainly couldn't see Him as the same as before we had been up that mountainside & seen what we had seen & heard what we had heard.
Peter & James asked Him questions about Elijah coming before the Christ & I simply listened to them all, as everything Jesus said in answer to their questions fell into place like a mosaic does when you see the full picture. Of course, John the Baptist had been a kind of Elijah, it was so obvious, why hadn't we seen it before. But actually, I realised, nothing, nothing at all would ever be as it was before.......
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, 30 January 2014
Just two blind beggars - Matthew 20:30-34
I'd waited for this day, it seemed I'd waited for this day all my life. I was with Reuben, as usual. We were always together & we'd spoken much about Jesus & about what we had heard about Him being able to heal & restore sight, as well as much more. Well, we didn't care about the much more, but we cared about being able to see! The problem for us both was that neither of us had any family who would take us to Jesus & we only had each other as friends - who wants to be a friend of the blind man who sits begging?
Anyway we'd decided that the only way to get His attention was to shout & scream until He heard us. What should we shout was our next question? We needed Him to know we believed in who He says He is, so after much discussion we decided we'd shout 'Adonai, have mercy on us, oh Son of David'.
We knew we had to time it just right you see, so we had to shout it in unison, in order for Him to hear us above the crowd. He was unlikely to see us - most people don't. We fade into the background of their lives, just part of the scenery.
We heard the crowd long before they arrived, we waited, we waited & then we both knew it was THE time. We yelled as loud as we possibly could, in unison, together in our overwhelming desire for this one chance at healing. 'Adonai, have mercy on us, oh Son of David'.
The first thing that happened was that the crowd must have seen us, they sure did hear us because they told us to be still & shut up! They didn't think Jesus wants to be bothered with the likes of us - blind beggars, part of the distasteful side of life. Reuben & I didn't care, we yelled again, louder this time, because we were scared, this one chance couldn't pass us by, it just couldn't.
'Adonai, have mercy on us, oh Son of David'.
We could hear the crowd had stopped moving, I think my heart stopped with the crowd as an eternity passed & we waited to see what would happen next.
He called us, HE called us by name, He knew our names! He didn't just call out 'Hey you two blind beggars' He called our names. We helped each other up, as we always did & then some of the people in the crowd took us the few steps to Him. We knew it was Him when He asked us what we wanted Him to do for us - there is something in His voice you know, something that you don't hear very often like hearing an animal attack in order to protect her cubs so powerful, yet gentle at the same time.
We told Him we simply wanted to see. It's all we wanted, it's everything we wanted, just to be able to have our eyes opened.
Next thing I knew, Reuben gave a shout, 'I can see, I can see!' But before I had time to wonder or to think anything any longer, I felt a touch on my eyes; He touched my eyes, such a light touch but it had such heat from it, right through my eyes & into my whole being, just like the sun in all it's strength warming me in my whole body. Suddenly I was aware; I could feel my eyes. I could open them. I could see!
Reuben & I hadn't thought beyond being healed, hadn't thought about what we'd do if we were healed, but actually there wasn't any doubt after we had been healed, no discussion was needed, no question once we were able to see. No question because all we could do was worship Him & follow Him. Our sight wasn't everything as we'd thought, because HE was everything.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Anyway we'd decided that the only way to get His attention was to shout & scream until He heard us. What should we shout was our next question? We needed Him to know we believed in who He says He is, so after much discussion we decided we'd shout 'Adonai, have mercy on us, oh Son of David'.
We knew we had to time it just right you see, so we had to shout it in unison, in order for Him to hear us above the crowd. He was unlikely to see us - most people don't. We fade into the background of their lives, just part of the scenery.
We heard the crowd long before they arrived, we waited, we waited & then we both knew it was THE time. We yelled as loud as we possibly could, in unison, together in our overwhelming desire for this one chance at healing. 'Adonai, have mercy on us, oh Son of David'.
The first thing that happened was that the crowd must have seen us, they sure did hear us because they told us to be still & shut up! They didn't think Jesus wants to be bothered with the likes of us - blind beggars, part of the distasteful side of life. Reuben & I didn't care, we yelled again, louder this time, because we were scared, this one chance couldn't pass us by, it just couldn't.
'Adonai, have mercy on us, oh Son of David'.
We could hear the crowd had stopped moving, I think my heart stopped with the crowd as an eternity passed & we waited to see what would happen next.
He called us, HE called us by name, He knew our names! He didn't just call out 'Hey you two blind beggars' He called our names. We helped each other up, as we always did & then some of the people in the crowd took us the few steps to Him. We knew it was Him when He asked us what we wanted Him to do for us - there is something in His voice you know, something that you don't hear very often like hearing an animal attack in order to protect her cubs so powerful, yet gentle at the same time.
We told Him we simply wanted to see. It's all we wanted, it's everything we wanted, just to be able to have our eyes opened.
Next thing I knew, Reuben gave a shout, 'I can see, I can see!' But before I had time to wonder or to think anything any longer, I felt a touch on my eyes; He touched my eyes, such a light touch but it had such heat from it, right through my eyes & into my whole being, just like the sun in all it's strength warming me in my whole body. Suddenly I was aware; I could feel my eyes. I could open them. I could see!
Reuben & I hadn't thought beyond being healed, hadn't thought about what we'd do if we were healed, but actually there wasn't any doubt after we had been healed, no discussion was needed, no question once we were able to see. No question because all we could do was worship Him & follow Him. Our sight wasn't everything as we'd thought, because HE was everything.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, 28 January 2014
Walking on water
I am beginning to try a new way of reading parts of the gospels. Imagining myself to be one of the central characters in the narrative & using the biblical text as my basis. Last week I read Matthew 14:24-31from Peter's perspective.........
We were out in the boat, that dark time just before dawn. There was no storm, but it was windy - lots of 'white horses' on the lake. Jesus had gone to pray - an all-nighter again, but we were used to Him doing that.
Then we saw something coming towards us as we were in the boat, something light, but not a light, just lighter than the darkness we expected. It looked like Jesus, but it couldn't be could it - He was praying on shore & there was no boat. Was it a spirit He had sent? Yet it looked just like Him, the closer He got.
Someone in the boat called out to the figure, we were a bit spooked by this point. It was Jesus - He told us not to be afraid & said 'I AM' Yahweh - that shook us, but only in that way that you'd known something, but not completely known it, just not fully realised it. At theat point it made perfect sense to me, He was at the dawn of creation as part of the GodHead, so, of course He can walk on water, He can do whatever He likes for His power over His creation is faultless.
I want to see what it's like to walk on water, so I call out that if it really is Jesus, call me to come to Him. I knew it was Him - who else could it be? I stepped out of the boat on to the water, it felt funny - a bit like being on a bed filled with water, or in a boat made of tarpaulins. I began to walk to Him, keeping Him in my gaze, then one of those white horses lapped over my feet & my legs & I freaked out - if that had happened it meant I was beginning to sink. At that point I was terrified I was going to die - why do I do stupid things like this, I should have stopped & thought before I got out of the boat - I'm a fisherman, I can't walk on water for goodness sake. I screamed out to Jesus in terror.
I must have been nearer to Him than I thought because He reached out His hand & I was fine, I was stood next to Him on the water. When He asked what I was afraid of, telling me I shouldn't have doubted, I couldn't state the obvious, (Er, the waves, walking on water, sinking etc.) because He was still holding my hand & nothing in all of creation was as safe as Him holding on to my hand. Why had I freaked? He was there, there isn't any need to freak whist His right hand is there holding mine!
We climbed back into the boat, but I was subdued by this point, trying to assimilate just what had happened, but also the knowledge I now knew of who Jesus was, is & evermore shall be!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
We were out in the boat, that dark time just before dawn. There was no storm, but it was windy - lots of 'white horses' on the lake. Jesus had gone to pray - an all-nighter again, but we were used to Him doing that.
Then we saw something coming towards us as we were in the boat, something light, but not a light, just lighter than the darkness we expected. It looked like Jesus, but it couldn't be could it - He was praying on shore & there was no boat. Was it a spirit He had sent? Yet it looked just like Him, the closer He got.
Someone in the boat called out to the figure, we were a bit spooked by this point. It was Jesus - He told us not to be afraid & said 'I AM' Yahweh - that shook us, but only in that way that you'd known something, but not completely known it, just not fully realised it. At theat point it made perfect sense to me, He was at the dawn of creation as part of the GodHead, so, of course He can walk on water, He can do whatever He likes for His power over His creation is faultless.
I want to see what it's like to walk on water, so I call out that if it really is Jesus, call me to come to Him. I knew it was Him - who else could it be? I stepped out of the boat on to the water, it felt funny - a bit like being on a bed filled with water, or in a boat made of tarpaulins. I began to walk to Him, keeping Him in my gaze, then one of those white horses lapped over my feet & my legs & I freaked out - if that had happened it meant I was beginning to sink. At that point I was terrified I was going to die - why do I do stupid things like this, I should have stopped & thought before I got out of the boat - I'm a fisherman, I can't walk on water for goodness sake. I screamed out to Jesus in terror.
I must have been nearer to Him than I thought because He reached out His hand & I was fine, I was stood next to Him on the water. When He asked what I was afraid of, telling me I shouldn't have doubted, I couldn't state the obvious, (Er, the waves, walking on water, sinking etc.) because He was still holding my hand & nothing in all of creation was as safe as Him holding on to my hand. Why had I freaked? He was there, there isn't any need to freak whist His right hand is there holding mine!
We climbed back into the boat, but I was subdued by this point, trying to assimilate just what had happened, but also the knowledge I now knew of who Jesus was, is & evermore shall be!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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