His Heart Went Out to Her

"His heart went out to her...."  I love that!  It shows the emotional side of Jesus in a story about a widow woman plodding slowly along in a funeral procession for the burial of her only son.  The mourners were passing through the city gate just as Jesus and a huge crowd of followers arrived at the village.  From a distance he saw her crying and broke away from the mass of people surrounding him.  When he caught up with her, he gently told her, "Don't cry..."  By including the expression translated as "His heart went out to her," the Gospel writer is giving us a glimpse of the emotion and feeling that was typical of Jesus.  His heart yearned to do something for her.  He had never met her before.  She wasn't asking for anything.  Jesus was simply overwhelmed with a desire to show compassion and mercy and as a result raised her son from the dead.

Though the astounding miracle brought glory to his name, every indication is this was not the primary reason for his intervention.  Yes, we are awestruck and inspired beyond words by the miracle of her son being raised from the dead.  But in these stories about Jesus, it is easy to skip over poignant little phrases such as "his heart went out to her" and "don't cry" because they are often overshadowed by the bigger events that usually get most of the focus.  But what comfort and reassurance can be had by picking up on these few, yet highly significant words tucked into the narratives of Jesus' life.  They allow us to relate to him more personally.

And how reassuring to realize that because he cares so deeply, he steps in even if we, for whatever reason, don't ask for help.  His goodness can touch anyone anytime. Though he was surrounded by people, Jesus' eye caught the exhausted grieving widow, tears flowing as she struggled to keep up with her son's funeral procession   If his heart went out to the widow woman, we can be assured his heart goes out to all of us as well in the midst of our troubles.  That's just who he is.

 **To read the story as told by the widow who lost her only son, click onto "Don't Cry..." under Recent Posts.

Did Jesus Like Kids?

Did Jesus like kids?  Or was he afraid their dirty hands might soil his garments?  Was he scandalized by their playful rough-housing?  Can you imagine him holding a scruffy child with a runny nose who might even need a...diaper change?  Did he wince at their ear-piercing yelps and screams as they chased around after each other?  Was he too busy and too important to stop and chat with a group of little kids?  Did he ignore their endless questions?  Was he irritated by their silliness and inability to act like adults?  After all, he was the Messiah!

All of the above was shot to pieces on one occasion described in the gospels when parents brought little children to Jesus to be blessed.  In the crowd that day there were all types of parents.  Picture it--maybe there were mom's with a babe on their hip and one or two siblings clinging to their skirts; new parents proudly cradling a tiny infant; dads with rambunctious little boys; a young mother with a shy, fatherless three-year-old all dressed in her very best, clutching a flower she had picked for Jesus in her tiny hand.  His disciples scolded the parents with sharp words, indicating Jesus didn't have time for kids who held an inferior status to adults in Judaic culture and were often treated badly.  But guess what?  Jesus was displeased and rebuked the disciples.  He told them they should not prevent children from coming to him.

It saddens me to realize that at one point in my life, my reaction under the same circumstances might have more closely resembled that of the disciples who thought they were protecting Jesus from wasting his time with a bunch of parents and kids.  Now it makes me smile when I read this story or see drawings depicting Jesus interacting with toddlers and grade-schoolers and pre-teens gathered around him, everyone laughing and smiling.

We sometimes forget that Jesus had also been a child.  He had designed birth and childhood and thoughtfully invented the growing up process.  A toddler's wide-eyed innocence and  unstoppable, infectious enthusiasm to embrace life comes from Jesus' original plan and reflects the attitude of his kingdom.  Since Jesus is love and delights in his creation, we have to conclude he was good with kids.  We can rule out the stern, impatient, distant, condescending image that some might have of him.  Had that been his demeanor, children, who tend instinctively to avoid adults who don't like them, would not have wanted to come anywhere near him.

Understanding that Jesus took time for children helps me see him more clearly.  We all make a mental note when we see someone who is good with kids.  They notice and acknowledge children when others don't.  They treat them with respect and value their personhood.  They are accepting and have a comfortable, relaxed way with youth all ages.  Their sincere, perceptive response to a child will often change attitude and behavior.  It is reassuring for me to realize while on this earth Jesus was so approachable and had a way with kids.   He still does.  Don't be hesitant to bring your children, grandchildren and children everywhere to him.  He has all the time in the world for them.

Read the story of a mom who brought her little girl to Jesus to be blessed.  Click onto The Crumpled Red Poppy under Recent Posts listed on this page.

It Was Like Magic!

Miracles!  Miracles everywhere!  It was like magic.  Early in his ministry, Jesus healed the mother-in-law of his new disciple Peter. She was burning up with a fever, on the verge of death and he took her hand and raised her up in the privacy of Peter's home, away from the public eye.  This would indicate Jesus intervened not solely to establish who he was, but also out of deepest concern--concern that would bond him to this special group--Peter and his wife, his mother-in-law, his brother Andrew and James and John who were also there.

Such a heartwarming, caring gesture made it easier for this new circle of friends to support the extraordinary mission that would consume so much of their lives over the next three and a half years and beyond.  It was a glimpse of his goodness.  But for the two ladies, it was more.  It represented recognition of their value as women; a show of attention that made them feel special and gentleness they were unaccustomed to receiving from religious teachers and leaders.

And the miracles they were destined to witness on a daily basis began anew that evening when hoards of people in desperate need of healing and deliverance lined the streets and alleys leading to the door of their home.  They were all clamoring for Jesus.  News about him had already spread quickly over the entire region.  Not only were these pitiful, infirmed and diseased individuals bound by their handicapped existence, they were also bound by a legalistic application of the Jewish code of law.  They had been taught they could not ask for or receive help until after the sun set on their sabbath days.  They were mistaken.  Jesus would have healed them any time of day or night. He had already healed Peter's mother-in-law just that afternoon.  The Lord was not unreasonable.

For many years, I too was mistaken.  I thought  my supplications to God were valid only if I offered them at the "right" time of day, just as the needy crowd at Peter's door.  But it didn't stop there, I also felt I had to pray in the "right" position, say the "right" words, in the "right" tone of voice and spend the "right" amount of time doing it. Otherwise, it would not work.  I allowed my entire day to be ruined and expected things to go wrong if I failed to pray the "right" way. How silly, you might say.  Yes, indeed it was.  But I needlessly labored under that misconception for a very long time.  Now I see how such a picky and complicated approach makes God appear unreasonable, harsh and unrealistic.

Jesus spent hours that night wandering through the massive crowd, empathetically laying his hands on the afflicted, the outcasts and misfits--many of whom were extremely unstable mentally. But it was not necessary for them to have waited until sunset to cry out for help, just as it wasn't necessary for me to pray at what I thought was the "right" time and way.  Jesus is neither unreasonable nor unrealistic.  He knows we are only human.  His mercy is unending.  His love unconditional.  We may come boldly before his throne of grace at any time, whether it be in early morning, with elegant, poetic phrases or late night with nothing but groaning and tears.  It doesn't matter. He understands.

Read the story of all these miracles as told by Peter's wife.  Click onto What A Day This Has Been! under Recent Posts.

What a Bunch of Losers!

Can you imagine the reaction of much of the Christian world today if they were faced with the kind of decision Jesus made regarding his first public miracle, turning water into wine at a wedding?  You know in your heart of hearts that many (and I include myself) would be thinking, "Well, the wedding party has already consumed all the wine way sooner than expected.  It's too bad there is no wine left, but it is just as well.  They've really had enough!"   The fact that Jesus did not have that reaction is fascinating.  It means he wasn't standing in their midst, arms folded, with a scowl on his face judging the merriment. It actually indicates he just might have been enjoying himself.

Weddings in first century Judea were a huge deal.  Running out of wine was not an option.  The reputation of the family was as stake. Jesus saved the day for the young bride and spared the family from embarrassment.  He responded to the request of his mom, even though he initially told her not to involve him because the time had not yet come for him to be made known through his miracles.  But she had a feeling he would do something anyway.  So she told the servants to follow his instructions.  She knew her son.  He was, after all, love personified.  Does that mean a supplication from  his dear mom and a desire to save the day for a tender young bride influenced Jesus to change his mind?  That's what it looks like.  Wow!  Who would have thought he would do such a thing?

This event in Jesus' life shows me I can lighten up a little bit, not be so rigid or inflexible.  Jesus didn't self-righteously turn his back on the wedding party and say, "Tough!  It's not my problem they ran out of wine. They should have had a more efficient wedding planner.  What a bunch of losers!" and watch the celebration fall to pieces.  Why did Jesus fix the situation?   He wanted the party to be a success.  He wanted everyone to be happy and the rejoicing to continue.

And I was touched the first time I realized Jesus might have had a soft spot regarding his mother.  Even though he initially told her no, he did reconsider, did he not?  And ended up turning water into wine--an unusual miracle that delighted his mom and the bridal party even though it resulted in launching his public ministry earlier than he planned.  When you think about it, Jesus life on this earth was filled with surprising happenings, unexpected stops and detours along the way enabling him to compassionately meet the needs of people, even "losers."

Note:  Read the story of this wedding as told by the bride--click onto The Bride's Story under Recent Posts.

Bright Shining Star

Preface:  On earth it was damp and cold.  The air in the stable was stale with the lingering odors of domestic animals.  It was in this bleak environment that our Savior entered our world as a helpless newborn.  He left behind the dazzling splendor of heaven to enter, as an infinitesimal speck, the dark womb of his earthly mother.

And consider this.  Babes in the womb are affected by what goes on around them--multi-sensory fetal reaction to the maternal environment is a reality.  So the Creator and Sustainer of the universe, abandoned greater power than we can imagine to experience the powerlessness of an unborn child, starting with fetal awareness of the highs and lows of an ordinary Jewish peasant girl named Mary.  Amazing!  In utero, he was affected by all that Mary went through--from scaling rocky hillsides to tend her flocks in the early stages of her gestation to the bumpy ride to Bethlehem, most likely on the back of a donkey, when she was great with child.  Jesus heard the sound of Mary's voice and felt the movements of everyday living in the home she shared with parents, grandparents, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles as she spent her days pounding wheat, cooking, weaving and helping out with other household chores.  He slept as she slept next to Joseph on a straw pallet on the floor covered with other sleeping family.

The ultimate price was paid on the cross, but it all began when Jesus "made himself nothing" (Phil. 2:7) and entered Mary's womb.  To dwell on the small beginnings of our Lord can be life altering.  It speaks loudly and clearly to the profound humility of God and is worthy of recognition, praise and worship.

Mary created a cocoon for the Messiah.  In the darkness, warmth and security of her womb, she was carrying Love personified.  She must have felt that love.  Talk about a pregnancy glow!  I suspect hers was a little more obvious than most.  Her delicate small frame would have been unable to eclipse the splendor of the Son!  And don't you think, after Jesus was born, Mary and Joseph basked in the glow of the bright shining star that led to Jesus' birthplace?  It must have been enormously encouraging to them and brightened up their spirits after all the puzzling events that they surely didn't expect to be associated with the birth of the Messiah.

Mary, the mother of Jesus, shares with us her version of the greatest story every told:

"If you wonder why I was chosen to carry the Messiah, don't worry.  I wonder why as well.  When the angel Gabriel announced to me that I would carry Jesus, I was overwhelmed.   For centuries, all young Jewish girls dreamed of this privilege.  'Be it unto me according to your word,' I told the angel, even though I had difficulty understanding how this could be since I was a virgin.  Thankfully, Gabriel also appeared to my betrothed, Joseph, who kindly took me as his wife so my baby and I would not be publicly disgraced.

"It's not as though I knew nothing of pregnancy and childbirth, just not one so extraordinary nor one  supernatural.  From the onset of puberty, girls are taught marriage and childbirth are their primary purpose in life.  The boys are taught by the rabbis and the girls prepare to be wives and mothers.  Prior to adolescence, our main function as small town country girls is to shepherd goats and sheep.  So we learned first hand about the process of birth early, assisting in the delivery of little lambs and goats from our flocks.  Then as we grew older, we would tag along with our mothers and grandmothers to participate in the birthing of village babies.  It was a little scary at first, but we soon became accustomed to the routine.  Soil was scattered on the floor to soak up blood.  A fire was started to heat up oils and water.  We learned about a potion of mixed herbs used to speed up the delivery.  We watched as one woman sat on a stone in front of the mother in labor to facilitate, while others surrounded her to help, chanting 'Come, sister!'  It all helped to reduce our fears and anxiety, unless we listened to the local gossips who sometimes told unsettling tall tales about things that can go wrong giving birth.

"During my pregnancy, we were obligated to travel to Bethlehem.  What a long arduous journey, awkwardly jostled about on the back of a donkey during the day and attempting to sleep while out in the open in make-shift tents at night.  I was sore and stiff and often felt what I thought might be labor pains.  It made me nervous as I worried I might have the baby any moment in the middle of nowhere.  I tried not to doubt the words of the angel, but I couldn't help but wonder why things seemed to be ill-timed.  Why a long trip just as I was soon to give birth?  And it got worse as there was no room for us anywhere when we finally arrived.  So we ended up in a stable with a manger for animals.  These shelters were found commonly, and many had been cleaned up in Bethlehem for the overflow of people expected to register.  But it was primitive and rugged, not at all what one would hope for to deliver a child.

At the onset of the delivery, I was overcome with fatigue from traveling and being separated from my familiar living environment. I felt lonely going into labor far away from home, lacking the anticipated support from close family and the other women in my village. The concerns I had during my pregnancy regarding the high infant mortality rate with a firstborn lingered in the back of my mind.  It was such a possibility with most first-time mothers that frequently babies were not given a name until a week after birth because sometimes they didn't survive that long. Believe me, I breathed a gigantic sigh of relief after safely delivering the Messiah into the world. 

"Oh, and was he ever precious, this tiny infant with his little wrinkled brow, his wispy, raven-colored hair and his enormous questioning eyes that stared into mine!  In the candle light, I wrapped him snugly with swaddling clothes and held him tightly so he would feel secure. My heart melted with each soft gurgle that came out of his mouth. As I cuddled and nuzzled my beloved son, tears of joy trickled down my cheeks and tenderly onto his. My mothering instincts clicked in so intensely, all I wanted to do was love and shield him. 

"Suddenly, ultra bright starlight lit up the winter sky and filtered through the tent curtain covering the opening of our shelter.  Joseph stepped outside and gazed at the brilliant star glowing in the east.  It comforted us and reminded us that in spite of all that had taken place, this was not a commonplace birth, no ordinary child.  We rehearsed the words of Gabriel spoken both to him and to me.  The peace we felt was inexplicable.  God was with us.  At the time, we didn't fully understand how literal that was.

"Years later, when I finally began to grasp who my baby was, I simply could not get over the fact that I held and cradled in my arms the One who brought all life into existence.  The birth of my little boy had been planned from the foundation of the Universe.  He was not just my son, but he was also the Son of God, a holy child.  Everything I had observed and held in my heart from the instant he was born finally made sense.  I had carried and given birth to a baby that was sent to save all nations!  It was beyond full human comprehension, but it was true.  That light, that bright shining star that enveloped us at his birth was his light, piercing the darkness of the world and bridging the gap between heaven and earth.

(c) Joyce Catherwood 2011

Life in the Fab Lane

Preface:  Because her husband had a powerful position in King Herod Antipas' domain, Joanna lived in palatial surroundings with wealth and prestige.  Machareus, the primary residence of Herod was perched on an isolated, breathtakingly-high desert hilltop. This impenetrable fortified palace was filled with towering marble pillars, massive open porches, elongated rooms and courtyards, ornate ceramic tile flooring, luxurious gardens, an amazing thermal bath-house and spectacular views of the Dead Sea.  In addition, when they were in Jerusalem, Herod Antipas and his family and chief assistants also resided in the majestic structure called the Citadel which was just as luxurious as Machareus.  It was an extravagant walled resort with intricate colorful frescoes and decorative vessels of silver and gold.

Coming from this fabulous lifestyle, we don't know how Joanna became such a devoted follower of Jesus.  We do know he miraculously healed her.  And there are enough similarities to suggest that her husband Chuza was the same royal official who traveled to Cana to find Jesus, begging him to heal his dying son whom healed from a distance early in his ministry.   As a result this nobleman and all his household became believers (Jn 4:46-54).  Joanna's generosity with her assets provided a substantial income source for Jesus.

Joanna tells her fascinating story:

"So many people think having money and prestige is all they need to be happy.  In the beginning, my husband Chuza and I were completely infatuated with all that had been made available to us.  Chuza managed the vast personal estates of King Herod Antipas, a position of distinction and power.  And the unique experience of being associated with Herod's court and of living in a plush environment had it's moments to be sure.  But we quickly learned our luxurious and important post could also be threatening to our well being. There were powerful undercurrents of intrigue and suspicion fueled by unbridled jealousy and cruel ambition that swirled continuously throughout the palace.  It did not take long for us to figure out how to navigate our dangerous environment.

"A chilling example was the murder of  John the Baptist.  Initially, Herod had a measure of respect for John, regarding him as a holy man.  He had actually paid attention to John's teachings until John told him it was not lawful for him to be married to Herodias, his current wife.  Herod had scandalously dismissed his first wife, a princess from the neighboring nation, then stole his brother's wife--yes, he married his sister-in-law.  And on top of that, Herodias was also his niece.  Angered by John's proclamation, Herod threw John in prison, but had no real intention of killing him.

"John's admonishment to Herod infuriated Herodias even more.  She had finally gotten the celebrity and eminence she so coveted by marrying Herod and she was not about to let some provincial teacher get in her way.  She began to plot John the Baptist's murder.  Eventually, her evil plan unfolded as she cleverly arranged for her sensuous daughter, Salome, to dance before Herod and all his nobles.  Smitten by her performance, Herod foolishly agreed to give his step-daughter anything she desired.  So Herodias instructed Salome to ask for the head of John the Baptist on a platter.  Trapped by his own rash promise and wanting to save face before his dinner guests, Herod felt he had no choice but to agree to the grotesque demand.

"Living in this upscale and privileged setting left us feeling unnerved and anxious much of the time,  but it finally began to make sense when we encountered the great merciful teacher, Jesus.   Our influence and financial benefits allowed us to help further his mission of freeing the oppressed, healing the sick and bringing hope to a captive, impoverished people.  My son and I were recipients of miraculous healings by the benevolent rabbi.  Our family was filled with gratitude and our hearts were turned to him.

"As often as I could, I followed Jesus as he traveled through the cities and villages of Galilee.  Those of us who served with him came from many contrasting backgrounds.  It took awhile for some of his companions who had been less fortunate in life to accept me, considering my upper class standing among the elite.  But they soon saw my heart, filled with sincere dedication to Jesus and his cause, particularly when Chuza's well-paid position enabled me to help financially support Jesus and those who assisted him.

"As Jesus' ministry suddenly came to an untimely end, I helplessly witnessed his agony on the cross.  And when I later learned how Herod and his soldiers had ridiculed Jesus prior to the crucifixion, I was even more heartbroken, because I knew these men.  When Herod first heard of Jesus and his miracles, he feared he was John the Baptist who had come back from the dead.  But with time, he realized this was not so and had been elated when he heard Pilate was sending the arrested Jesus to him to help determine his fate.  He had been fascinated by Jesus' supernatural powers and determined to witness a miracle firsthand.  He eagerly began to question Jesus, but Jesus did not answer a word.  Herod, not one to be ignored, became increasingly irritated.  In the end, he and his soldiers began insulting Jesus, scoffing and making fun as they draped a brilliant,  kingly robe on him before returning him to Pilate for crucifixion.

"When the cruel execution was over, Jesus was hastily placed in a sepulcher.  Some of the other women and I arrived later to prepare his remains for burial.  We expected to find his mutilated body, but discovered an empty tomb and two dazzling angels who asked why we sought the living among the dead!  Our sorrow immediately turned to rejoicing when we grasped that he was alive!

"Though now over, my sometimes fabulous, sometimes frightening sojourn in the palace provided a unprecedented opportunity to bear testimony of the love and grace of our Lord.   Herod's own foster-brother and close companion, Manaen, later became a prominent believer.  An amazing adventure in an entitled and indulged, but dangerous world!"

Luke 8:1-3; 23:8-12; 24:1-12; Mark 6:14-32; Acts 13:1
Joyce Catherwood (c) 2011

"Give Her Something to Eat!"

Preface: A young 12-year-old girl was on the verge of death.  She was the daughter of a synagogue ruler named Jairus.  Most of the religious leaders in Judea were furious with Jesus at this point in his ministry and had begun to discuss what to do with him.  There had already been an attempt to shove Jesus off a cliff after he taught in his hometown synagogue.  The accusations of blasphemy by the Pharisees and teachers of the law grew daily.  We don't know if Jairus was actively involved in this angry reaction.  If he had been, it is easy to see how the possibility of losing his only child might bring about a drastic change of heart.  Regardless, Jesus did not discriminate among those who needed help.  He had mercy on a synagogue president's family who became recipients of one of his most dramatic miracles.

Jairus' wife tells her side of the story:

"I will never, ever forget the day I met Jesus.  Our home was filled with family, friends and public mourners crying and wailing because my darling daughter had just died in my arms.  Throughout her lingering illness, I felt so helpless, with nowhere to turn.

"The stories of Jesus the healer were widespread.  Someone told me he had raised a woman's son from the dead.  I desperately wanted to find him.  But it would have been impossible for me, as the wife of our town's chief synagogue officer, to seek out Jesus on my own.  I wasn't even permitted to walk the city streets alone, much less search for a maverick teacher.  This would have brought the ultimate embarrassment to my husband, Jairus.

"And because Jairus was prominent in the synagogue, he himself had reason to think twice about going to Jesus.  Pharisees, priests and teachers of the law from all around had labeled Jesus as a blasphemous trouble-maker.  They wanted a reason to arrest him and stop his growing popularity.    So how could Jairus dare ask Jesus for help?  Yet on that horrible day, as he watched our precious daughter grow paler and weaker, gasping for breath, he could no long restrain himself.  Synagogue ruler or not, he had to find the miracle worker.  It was our last hope.  When Jairus finally found Jesus, he fell at his feet, pleading for the life of our only child.

"Waiting for Jairus to return felt like an eternity.  I wondered if Rabbi Jesus would really come to help a little girl.  Most rabbis had no time for females, young or old, and viewed us as a distraction from the more important things in life.  As these thoughts ran through my mind, I glanced down at my daughter, then watched as she drew her last breath.  I rocked her back and forth in my arms, stroking her hair, her tunic soaked with my tears.  I screamed her name, begging her to come back to me.  But she was beyond the reach of my voice.  I held onto her for a long time, then carefully laid her on the bed.  I gently closed her eyes and caressed her face with my hand.  The suffering was over and she looked so peaceful, as though she were asleep.   A servant left immediately to tell Jairus.

"It wasn't long before I heard a man's voice rise above the chaotic mourning and wailing, asking the crowd in the adjoining room why they were causing such a noisy commotion.  He said my daughter was just sleeping.  Everyone laughed at him.  Then he told them all to leave the house.  I welcomed the quiet that followed.

"Jairus and I held onto each other, standing next to three of Jesus' disciples as the healer leaned over the bed and tenderly took my daughter's small hand in his.  Then, with endearing affection, he said to her:  'My little one, I say to you, rise up!'  She began to stir.  Her eyes opened and Jesus, still holding her hand, lifted her to a sitting position.  She immediately got off the bed and walked around a little disoriented.  When she saw us, she ran into my open arms.  I  held onto her, my tears of sorrow turned to joy.  Jairus wrapped his arms tightly around us both.

"Not missing a single detail, Jesus, knowing our child was weak and hungry after her ordeal, then smiled and said, 'Well, give her something to eat!'  Elated at this startling turn of events, we scurried around trying to find her favorite foods.

"Jairus and I were deeply humbled by the impartial goodness of Jesus.  With just one gracious touch of his hand, He restored jubilant life into our home, the home of a synagogue president, showing mercy we did not deserve."

Matthew 9:18-19; 23-26; Mark 5:22-24; 35-43; Luke 8:41-42; 49-56
(c) Joyce Catherwood 2011