Old Age And Rebirth

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Old Age And rebirth

I’ve reached an age where yesterdays memories are clear as crystal; lots more refined than some of today’s. More and more I hear reports of this itenerant teacher from Galilee. The very walls of the temple resonnate with the rumors He’s engendered. The scribes, Pharasees, Saducees are often upset lately at the news flowing through the peasants who seem to think Him some gift from God sent to fix their ills; maybe even the Messiah.
He and His disciples are baptizing down at the Jordan, I hear. So I go with the friends to see just what this man is about.
He’s tall, arms strong, strengthened by hard labor. His eyes are gentle, compassionate, and in the depths of them I sense a great deal of knowledge. Something about Him tugs at my memory. Somewhere I’ve seen Him before; somewhere back in yesteryears. The memory returns. I see a child of twelve summers in the temple courtyards. Back then I am a young rabbi, teaching, asking, and answering questions posed by the populace during the Jewish religious holidays. The questions He asks and the answers He gives to the questions we pose to Him, so wise for his years. He’s there in the Temple for at least three days. Now I see him back here in the present as a young teacher to the populace.
My young friend Joseph tells me of going to hear him down by the Galilee in the foothills. He actually blessed a small amount of food, a couple of fish and five loaves of bread. You should have heard the gasps that went through the crowd when when he fed them all with these and had twelve baskets full of food left over.
My friend Zebedee tells me a story his son’s related to him about a storm at sea following this incident. The wrath of the sea had just about swamped their boat when they saw someone off in the distance walking upon the crests of the waves. They cried out in fright. Then they heard him say to be not afraid.; it was he. Simon Peter, the one they call the big fisherman, answered him and said “if it is indeed you, Master, let me come to you upon the water.” The man, Jesus, said ,”Come.” So Peter stepped out of the boat and started walking to him. He was making his way to Jesus when he became frightened of the storm and started going under. Jesus reached out to Peter and hand in hand they walked back to the boat. There are some amazing stories about this man, I tell you.
The stories of healings flow through the market places. The story of the Gadarene demoniac; Although he had been harrassed and bound by legions of demons, his spirit and desire to get to Jesus was strong enough to overcome the power they held over him. He had often cut himself and he was bound to protect himself and others but time and again would break the chains that bound him. He was wont to run naked through the cemetary. When Jesus freed him from the legion he was found clothed and in his right mind.
Lepers are healed. He tells them to obey the laws of purification and sends them to the temple as he should. No matter how he obeys the laws of God it seems my fellow temple mates become infuriated with this Jesus.
He teaches in parables and simple similes. His knowledge of the law, scriptures and nature are impeccable; His words full of authority. I find it hard to understand the wrath and dislike he engenders in my fellow scribes and rabbi’s. He has few friends among us, I know that my friend Joseph secretely believes in him. Belonging to the Sanhedrin, neither of us are wont to shout aloud that we see no evil in this man, but good only.
Zebedee is known far and wide for the fish he catches and sells. He and his workers prepare fish preserved by salting, drying, smoking, and by pickling in wine vinegar and spices. Both Joseph and I buy often from him . His wife, Salome follows Jesus and helps with other women in his ministry. Zebedee’s two sons are part of the inner circle of Jesus’ disciples. It becomes obvious to us that this family has strong beliefs in this young preacher.
“I have been checking out the scriptures pertaining to the Messiah”, Zebedee tells me. “His mother, Mary and my wife are good friends. Do you know that he was born in Bethlehem”? “Really, Zebedee, don’t tell me you are going this far in your liking to this young man. A lot of this sort of talk and he will end up as disliked by Herod as was John the Baptist. He already is by most of the Pharasees and Saducees. He is no kinder in words against wrongdoing than John was and he lost his head because of it”.
I could not help myself after this conversation. What would it be like to be living in the time of the Messiah’s coming? I’m getting up in years.I would love to be around when when Messiah comes. Both Joseph and I talk of him. Joseph is as elated as I am to think that perhaps the Messiah is on the scene in our day. We start studying the scriptures more closely looking for every hint and nuance contained in them that might fit this young teacher.
There is an incidence of a man born blind whom Jesus heals on the Sabbath. This is considered a sin by the the religious leaders. The man is kicked out of the temple and refused to be allowed to worship in it anymore because he tells the leaders that he could not have been healed accept by the power of God.
Again he stirs up the leaders by telling them that “Before Abraham was, I Am”. “Blasphemy”, they yell, and try to take him but he easily excapes.
I have tried to come to an understanding of him. I visited him by night because usually the press of the croud during the day precludes any chance of talking to him in depth. I tell him I know he is a great teacher come from God. I know that no mere man could do the things he does unless he is of God. He tells me that man must be born again. Certain of the Sanhedrin believe in reincarnation but I know that this man does not. What is he saying? He tells me that that which is born of the flesh is flesh and that which is born of the spirit is spirit. He then tells me that God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son so that he who believed on the son would have everlasting life. I leave knowing that like my young friend Joseph, I also believe on and in this young man.
One of the favorite members of the sanhedrin, Old Simeon, dies. We know this is part of life but Joseph and I had been in the habit of meeting with him for dinner and talk at least twice a month for some time and we miss him sorely. Not long afterwards the news of Lazarus of Bethany and his ressurection from the grave after being four days dead reaches us. Too bad, we think, that could not be an assurance we all could have.
Then there is the dinner at Simons house which Lazarus, Martha, and Mary attend. None of these three had had an easy life. The youngest, Mary, had been a prostitute. She was quiet, goodnatured, diminuitive, very pretty. Since Jesus had bcome a friend of this family there had been a change in all of them. The impact Jesus had on their life’s, they each loved him dearly.
As a host, Simon was lacking in the graces usually extended to guests. There had been no preparations for the washing of his guests feet, no excuses offered. Mary took out an alabaster box of spices, at least two full years wages, broke the container and poured them over Jesus feet, unbound her long hair and washed and dried his feet with her hair, crying as she did. Certain of the people were aghast at the expense of this. Simon told Jesus if he knew what type of loose woman Mary was, he would not have allowed her to touch him. Ridiculous. The kind of close friend he was to this family, of course he would have known. His attitude towards people is what draws them to him.
More and more the Jewish leaders are turning against Jesus, trying to think up any and every reason to get others to turn against him.
Friday before Passover week Jesus enters Jerusalem on an ass. The people throw down clothing and Palm fronds, strewing them across his path, shouting Hosannah. This is the last straw. The Sanhedrin call a part of the members together. They make a pact with one of the twelve, a man called Judas Iscariot for a paltry sum of thirty pieces of silver. Like cowards they go behind the populace’s back under cover of darkness. They use trumped up charges against him and he is slain, crucified like a common criminal. Joseph and I cannot bare the thought of him being buried as one.
Joseph has had a tomb made for himself. He goes to the chief priest and asks and is granted permission to take the body. There is not much time before the Sabbath. We hurriedly take burial strips and spices and wrap and lay his body in the tomb. Oh, God. We look at at each other, tears streaming as we lift his lifeless body and lay it on the slab of rock. It is unbelievable. It can’t have happened.
The Sanhedrin remembers Jesus word that he would raise himself from the dead. There is a large stone placed in front of the tomb to seal it shut and a Roman guard placed before it.
Joseph and I, grief stricken, go to his house. We mope there the next few days. We are startled as we see appearing at Josephs house, Old Simeon. He tells us that when Jesus died, he and others were released from their graves during a great earthquake. We find out later that many of these dead saints walked through the town.
Not long after this we hear the news. The tomb has been visited, the huge stone rolled away and the tomb is occupied by two angels who say he is not there but risen as he said. The grave clothes are empty, not unwapped, still whole in the shape of a body but empty. The head covering is neatly folded on a shelve. How our hearts beat with hope and joy. We know to head in search of his disciples. We are sure he’ll be heading in their direction. We find that he has been seen. Then we are overjoyed as he meets with us in Galilee and speaks with and teaches us for fourty days about how to teach the meaning of his kingdom, for us to wait for the power from on high, his Comforter. Oh, Joseph. We were granted the blessing of the Messiah in our lifetime. Our God came in human form and walked among us. Blessed are we among people and blessed are those who believe on his name.
footnote: Matthew27:52- 53 The righteous dead walk through Jerusalem.

written by ruby haskins