Monday, March 25, 2013

The week that changed the world

We walked with him three or so years. We saw people, believe me I know how hard it is to understand and/or believe, healed. I personally saw him walk on the water out to us on a scary night alone. We saw him sleep through a raging storm, like our little boat was a baby bed and the roaring wind and terrifying thunder and lightening was a mother rocking a child and singing a lullaby.

We saw him feed thousands with almost no food, and I guess as importantly, no money to spend on food. We say him love on lepers as if they were as clean as the temple. We saw him treat children and women as, well, as lovable equals. We heard him preach words never used before, pick religious fights with the religious and make the most scholarly look foolish by simply twisting a few words of very well known theology.

We even saw, I'm serious, Moses and Elijah on the top of Mount Tabor talking with Jesus. We saw his clothes transfigure into the most incredible white I've ever witnessed.

High points all.

But nothing topped that morning we entered into Jerusalem for what would be the last time together.

You have to understand. We were just plain, everyday Jews. Nobody would notice if we died. No one but our wives and children would ever have noticed our lives. We were born, we lived, we worked, we loved, we died. Nobodies. Nothing for the holy scriptures to pay attention to. We were not prophets. We were fishermen, tax collectors, a bit of farming in our veins. Nothing important. The only thing that separated us from ones who were lining that old road down from the Mount of Olives into Jerusalem was, well, Him. He called us, the 12 (or 11 I guess), and somehow made us special to his cause, to his teaching. I must admit I didn't understand most of that teaching, and I never saw myself as special in any way. I didn't consider myself a teacher, a Rabbi. I just followed. He called me the rock upon which his church would be built. But I didn't call myself that. I knew nets, water temperature, places to fish. Fish. That's about it. That's what I knew. My father knew fish. My father's father knew fish. Nothing about being rocks. Nothing about a church that didn't exist being built on me.

But that morning. He rode along with the greatest smile I had ever seen. Most of the time He was slow to smile. But here. .. the crowds spread out their garments on the road ahead of him. When he reached the place where the road started down the Mount of Olives, all of his followers began to shout and sing as they walked along, praising God for all the wonderful miracles they had seen.

“Blessings on the King who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven, and glory in highest heaven!”
 
The moment I will always remember is some of the Pharisees forcing their way through the cheering, singing followers and saying, “Teacher, rebuke your followers for saying things like that!”
 
Jesus laughed loudly, and said, "If they kept quiet, the stones along the road would burst into cheers!”
 
I laughed as loudly, and one of the Pharisees gave me a facial rebuke. I didn't care. This was great. Absolutely great. I felt like we would never come down from this mountain top as we did the other. We were coming into Jerusalem. Passover was beginning. Friends and family were all in one place. Jesus' power was never more evident. We were coming to end something (the Roman occupation I suspected), and to begin something (Jesus' reign). I had told him I believed him to be the Christ. I had told him that other than to him I had no place to run. I believed in my heart, with all my heart, that we were about to change the world.
 
This week would change everything. I believed in Him. I believed Him.

No comments: