I Love to Tell the Story

Did Jesus Like Kids?

2012-02-12T17:32:00.000-06:00

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!

2012-01-30T21:05:00.002-06:00

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!

2012-01-20T15:08:00.000-06:00

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

2011-12-17T21:39:00.000-06:00

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

2011-09-01T20:39:00.002-05:00

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!"

2011-08-06T23:11:00.000-05:00

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

Why Are You Weeping?

2011-06-29T00:22:00.002-05:00

Preface: Not only did Jesus deliver Mary Magdalene from her mental illness and cruel isolation when he first met her, he also responded to her tears as she frantically looked for his body after he had risen from the grave. You could say there must be other more important reasons why the first person Jesus appeared to was Mary. But is it possible our tender-hearted Savior felt it was important enough to take a few minutes to comfort the grief-stricken, weeping Mary before he showed himself to the disciples or even ascended into heaven? While most of his friends fled, Mary remained devoutly supportive of Jesus throughout the heart-wrenching crucifixion process, even to the point of being deeply concerned about what would happen to his body afterwards. It is easy for me to see why Jesus might have been moved to respond to her devotion and wanted to wipe away her tears.  Jesus is affected by our tears. And one day, when all is said and done, he will wipe away every tear from every eye and there will be no more crying.

Mary Magdalene tells her story:

"I probably have more reasons than anyone to respond with fierce loyalty to our Lord. He lifted me out of despicable conditions, conditions so desperate they are hard to describe. I lived in terrifying darkness, plagued with despair and depression. Often I didn't know who I was, where I was--I had lost complete control over my life. I had brought shame and embarrassment to my family.

"In our culture, those suffering from madness are treated with disdain, viewed as a freak of nature and banished to the edge of town or the city dump. People would move aside and look disgusted or scared if I came near them. I became accustomed to the degrading name-calling and finger-pointing, believing it was all I deserved.

"But one glorious day, a man named Jesus saw me and took pity. He walked right over to me, not at all put off by my wretchedness. As he approached me, I backed away terrified, stumbling to the ground. I didn't know what he was going to do. I was so used to mistreatment. But he knelt down and spoke calmly to me. He smoothed my dirty hair off my face with his rough carpenter hands. I had no memory of the last time anyone had shown me any compassion. Then, in one split second, he healed my mind and filled my heart and soul with light and wonder and blessed peace!

"So it shouldn't be difficult to understand why I began to follow him everywhere. I supported him financially out of my own means. I became a part of his traveling team, sharing countless miles and meals. I knew him so well. I knew what made him smile, what made him exasperated, what made his heart heavy.

"And at the end of his life, no matter how frightening or gruesome things got, I could not leave him. I was there when they nailed him to the cross. I was there when he cried out 'It is finished!' and breathed his last breath. I watched as Joseph of Arimathea carefully took him down from the cross and followed as they carried him to the tomb. Only then did I go home, determined to come back and properly prepare his body for burial.

"While it was still dark, I returned to his grave site with a few other women.  A violent earthquake frightened us out of our wits, but did not deter us as we made our way to the garden where his tomb was located.  When we got there, I was astonished to find it empty. The soldiers that had been positioned to guard his body lay dead on the ground. It angered me that anyone would steal his body after all that had already been done to him.  We ran to get help. Peter and John rushed back with us, saw the empty tomb and then left, confused. None of us understood that Jesus had to rise from the dead.

"I began to sob uncontrollably.   I looked into the tomb one more time and was startled by an angel whose appearance was like a stream of lightening.   He was so bright.  Bewildered, I turned around when someone standing behind me said, "Why are you weeping?"  I was still blinded by the light of the angel and my eyes were swollen and flooded with tears, so I didn't recognize who it was at first. But when he spoke my name, I knew it was Jesus! I fell at his feet and hung onto him with all my might.  We were laughing and crying at the same time. My master was alive!

"Jesus finally had to tell me to let go because he hadn't yet ascended to his Father. He had delayed his ascent to heaven so he could comfort a weeping woman--amazing, yet so typical of my Lord.

"The sun popped up over the horizon and cast a brilliant glow over everything. What a contrast to the darkness of the last few days. I don't think my feet ever touched the ground as I ran to tell everyone the good news! Jesus had come back to life. I had seen the risen Lord!"

John 19:25; 38-42; 20:1-18
(c) Joyce Catherwood 2011

Sticks and Stones

2011-05-27T00:27:00.000-05:00

Preface: Jesus' reaction to the woman caught in the act of adultery may seem surprising to some. It certainly was in stark contrast to the actions of the religious leaders of the day who exhibited utter disregard for her as a person. They had actually set her up in an attempt to theologically trick Jesus and then proceeded to publicly incriminate her.  We don't know why or how she fell victim to this hypocritical plot.  But remember, women of 1st century Jewish society had no rights. She was the possession of her husband in an arranged marriage, for better or for worse. Her opinion did not matter. She had no power, no voice even if she found herself in an abusive situation. Jesus knew her heart and he also knew what was in the hearts of her accusers.

Sticks and stones may break bones, but it turns out names can really hurt too.

She tells her story:

Just before dawn, the door to our secret hiding place burst open and slammed against the wall. Scribes and Pharisees stormed in, screaming, "Adulteress!" They grabbed me, pulling me out of bed and shoved me toward the door. Barely awake, I glanced back at the man I had trusted with my heart and deepest needs. He turned his head away. Why did they take me and leave him behind? I later learned that my foolish indiscretion had thrust me into the middle of a malicious plot to entrap and accuse the popular rabbi, Jesus.

Once out the door, I was immediately sandwiched between two fast-walking Pharisees who gripped my arms so tightly they left bruises.  Fighting back tears and unbelievably ashamed, I looked down as they rushed me through the streets, passing shopkeepers and vendors setting up for the day. I felt sickened and humiliated beyond words.

When we arrived at the temple courts, my band of captors rudely plowed through a large gathering until we reached Jesus. He was seated, teaching a large crowd that had gathered early that morning. The two Pharisees pushed me in front of Jesus loudly proclaiming they had caught me in the act of adultery. As I stood shivering, disheveled and exposed, I knew people were gawking at me, some with looks of sheer disgust. I could hear the salacious whispering and ridicule going on behind me. One of the women traveling with Jesus gently placed a cloak on my shoulders. Tears of appreciation rolled down my cheeks. I knew what I had done was so wrong, one of the gravest sins according to our law. But in our culture, the marriages arranged at childhood are sometimes loveless.  Wives become the property of husbands who can be arrogant and overbearing. Vulnerable and starved for affection, some risk seeking love elsewhere.

Then the scribes and Pharisees said: "The law of Moses says we should stone her. What do you say?" I gasped as I heard those words.   We were a captive nation and Roman law forbade capital punishment for an offense like this. Would they really stone me? Horrified, I looked at Jesus. He seemed to ignore their challenge, and instead, bent down and wrote in the dust with his finger. Frustrated, they continued to shout questions at him. Jesus finally straightened up and said, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone." Then he bent down again, continuing to write in the dust.

In disbelief, I waited for what seemed like an eternity, too frightened to move. My heart thumped so loudly, I could barely hear Jesus when he asked me "Where are they?" I dared to turn my head and was startled to see that my accusers had slipped away, one by one, beginning with the most prominent. Jesus was now standing in front of me and said: "Has no one condemned you?"

Incredulous, I responded, "No one, sir." Jesus then said, "Neither do I condemn you." He told me I was free to go and should leave my life of sin. I was astounded by Jesus' tenderness, his gracious manner. It was a remarkable contrast to the contempt and disdain of the scribes and Pharisees which was what I expected. Never would I have anticipated experiencing such forgiveness from a rabbi.

I turned and made my way through the crowd. Once on the street, I walked away quickly. I felt the wind against my face and breathed deep, cleansing breaths of freedom. Jesus had pardoned me. So great was God's mercy, it filled my empty heart and gave me hope for new beginnings.

John 8:1-11

(c) Joyce Catherwood 2011

Send Her Away!

2011-05-03T22:09:00.000-05:00

Preface: Did Jesus really call the Syrophoenician woman who begged for healing for her child a dog? At first glance, one might think he was rude and insulting to her by telling her it isn't right to take the children's bread and toss it to their dogs. This reference is to the fact that his major mission during his short earthly ministry was to the Jewish people and not specifically to the surrounding nations which included Phoenicia. But if you read between the lines, you will see the loving and compassionate Jesus finding himself unable to withhold responding to the humility, persistence and deep faith of a pagan woman and her little daughter in the grips of misery.

The mom from Phoenicia tells her story:

"I was beyond desperate! My precious little girl was terrified and completely out of her mind. I sought help everywhere, but no one was able to bring relief. I had heard of the great Israelite healer, Jesus, and his miracles. The Jews abhorred our people; so when word spread that Jesus had traveled into Phoenicia, I found it heard to believe he was actually here. I set out to find him, asking family, friends and even strangers whether they had seen him

"Finally I found him! I saw him standing in the courtyard of the house where he and his disciples were staying. My heart filled with hope. 'Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me!' I cried as I begged him to heal my baby girl. At first he didn't answer me. I turned to his disciples, pleading with them to help me get through to Jesus. They quickly became annoyed with me and urged Jesus to send me away. They seemed to read into his silence that he must have been irritated by me as they were.

"At last Jesus spoke. I was so relieved that he had at least responded, I fell at his feet and prayed, 'Lord, help me!' He explained to me he was sent only to Israel and that I should realize it's not right to take the children's bread and give it to their little dogs. The children should be allowed to eat all they want first. And I knew that. I knew he had been working miracles only in Jewish regions. I knew we lived in a spiritually dark and pagan corner of the world. But he was here in our land, standing right in front of me. So, I said: 'Yes, Lord, I know. But even the puppies eat the crumbs that fall from the master's table.'

"As I gazed up at him, looking for even the slightest positive sign, Jesus smiled, obviously moved by my response. He told me I had great faith and my heart's desire had been granted--my daughter was healed! Overcome with relief, I thanked him over and over. Then I ran all the way home and found my little one sleeping peacefully. My sweet daughter's beautiful tiny face was no longer contorted with stark fear and anguish. I curled up beside her and wept tears of joy.

"Jesus had crossed the border into our country to get away from tiresome arguments with the Pharisees. He didn't want anyone to know where he was. Even though in my desperation I had interrupted the privacy Jesus sought, divine pity crossed physical and racial boundaries that day as Jesus reached out to me, an outsider. I received bread, not crumbs, from the master's table!"

Matthew 15:21-28; Mark 7:24-30
(c) Joyce Catherwood 2011

A Really Bad Dream

2011-03-25T22:44:00.004-05:00

From the sixth hour until the ninth hour darkness came over all the land (Mt. 27:45)

Preface: You know that feeling--when you've had a really bad dream and you wake up suddenly, then are so relieved to realize it was just a dream... The morning after Jesus had been arrested, Claudia Procula, Pontius Pilate's wife, woke up from a nightmare. But her really bad dream didn't go away.  We don't have a lot of details about the dream, we only know it was about Jesus and it disturbed and frightened her. Who was this highly-placed Roman lady and why was she concerned about a Galilean peasant named Jesus?

Claudia's childhood plays out like a soap opera.  She was the granddaughter of Roman Emperor Julius Caesar. Her mother, Julia, is described as being so promiscuous, she was banished from Rome because of her lewd and shameful conduct. During this exile, she had an affair with a Roman soldier and illegitimately gave birth to Claudia.  After Julius Caesar died, Tiberius (who just happened to be the third husband of Julia) became emperor. So from age 13, Claudia was raised in the palatial surroundings of the Roman residence of Tiberius. She was 18 when she married Pontius Pilate.  As a wedding present, Pilate was given the governorship of Judea.  From the beginning of his inexperienced rule, Pilate made many blunders, embittering the Jews and fostering numerous Jewish insurrections against the Roman occupation.

To maintain peace and order, Pilate and Claudia habitually took up temporary residence in Jerusalem during Jewish festivals.  Did Claudia know of Jesus by reputation or observation? Had she seen Jesus while she was on an excursion through the streets of Jerusalem, seated on a magnificent sedan chair, lifted high and carried by slaves? Maybe she actually witnessed a miraculous healing. Or was it by word of mouth from her servant girls who could more easily venture outside of the luxurious fortress palace that housed visiting Roman dignitaries.
While we don't know exactly why, Jesus was of importance to Claudia and she tried to save his life. The fact that she defended Jesus' innocence while he was being falsely accused is significantly immortalized in scripture. This must have deeply touched Jesus and encouraged his heavy heart since many of his disciples and friends had completely deserted him and the once-adoring crowds had turned vicious.

Tradition indicates Pilate's wife eventually became a Christian.

Claudia describes the circumstances of her dream:

"I woke up with a jolt, shaking, my heart racing.  I was afraid to move and stared at the opulent inlaid gold ceiling towering above me. Then I was momentarily relieved, thinking my nightmare about Jesus was only a dream. But angry voices coming through the windows of our residence brought me back to reality.

"The palace was perched high above the city and from my window I could see throngs of restless, agitated people screaming "Crucify him!"  When I realized this was all about Jesus, I felt sick. The haunting nightmare was still vivid in my mind.  I had been deeply disturbed by the news of Jesus' arrest as I retired for the evening. I didn't know why he had been taken and accused of crimes that could cost his life. He was immensely popular and showed extraordinary kindness to those in dire need.  He was a just and innocent man. His goodness had profoundly affected me.

"For the Jewish leaders to bring him before my husband only meant one thing. They wanted permission from Pilate to execute him. This was the second time that day Jesus had been brought before Pilate. I was amazed Pilate had not immediately agreed to the death penalty to save face as a politician and appease the hysterical mob that had been enraged by wild accusations from the jealous chief priests and elders.  Many in the crowd were the same people who had only days before been Jesus' biggest fans. It was so unlike Pilate to balk at settling this issue instantly. He was a military man and had no qualms about shedding innocent blood to stifle a rebellion and stay out of trouble with Rome.

"Now Jesus stood there, alone. Up all night and exhausted, he had been spat upon.  He was covered with bruises and wounds from being slapped and struck by fists of enraged religious leaders and temple guards.  For hours he had been hounded with false accusations and verbal abuse. He was not a criminal. I knew that, and somehow Pilate knew that, but things were totally out of control.   It irritated me that not one person tried to defend him, especially when Pilate himself insisted Jesus was innocent.   I grabbed a servant by the arm and ordered him to go immediately to my husband and urge him not to have anything further to do with the proceedings.  And to tell him I was distressed and tormented by a dream I just had about Jesus. But it didn't work. Watching from my window, I saw my husband give in to their lies and demands. In a cowardly attempt to rid himself of any responsibility, he washed his hands in front of the crowd, declaring he was innocent of Jesus' blood. Jesus was taken to be flogged and crucified. I moved from the window and slumped to the floor, weeping. My soul ached for this compassionate, humble man known everywhere for healing and delivering the oppressed.

"As Jesus hung on the cross, the brilliant afternoon sun gave way to an ominous darkness that lasted over 3 hours. Then, as he gasped his last breath, the earth convulsed with a massive earthquake, splitting rocks and leveling structures. Tombs broke open, releasing dead people who came back to life. All of Jerusalem had been brought to its knees. But not for long. These terrifying events weren't enough to stop the brazen chief priests and elders. They scrambled through the rubble to Pilate and foolishly conspired with him to secure Jesus' grave so his disciples could not steal his body and claim he rose from the dead. Unbelievable!

"Three days have now passed and Jesus' followers are indeed proclaiming he is alive! They insist they have seen him. Those who came back from their graves now walk the streets of Jerusalem!  I am mystified, but at the same time exhilarated. If Jesus is divinity, he does not even remotely resemble any of the gods I have know and worshipped since childhood. And I will not rest until I learn more about this god-like man who defied death and promises eternal life."

Matthew 27:11-66

(c) Joyce Catherwood 2011

And just like that, it was all over...

2011-01-14T22:38:00.000-06:00

Preface:  How does it feel to be continually ignored, dismissed,looked down on? The woman referred to in the Gospel of Mark as "the unclean woman" was an untouchable misfit in her society. She knew what it was like to have people look away, to step quickly aside, scrupulously avoiding any physical contact with her. She felt insignificant, alone, unloved and abandoned.  She felt betrayed by her diseased body. Her encounter with Jesus was fascinating. Not only did he heal her physically, but he restored her profoundly wounded heart and damaged soul.

Let's hear it in her own words.

"With a look of disgust on their faces, people pulled back and cautiously stepped aside when I walked by. I sensed their irritation because I had gotten in their way. By law, they were required to avoid all contact with me. I was known in my community as the 'unclean woman.' This had gone on for twelve long years. The constant, daily rejection bred emotionally painful isolation and chronic loneliness. I felt small and embarrassed. I never got used to it. I continually feared more rejection and this caused me to be defensive at times, which made others want to avoid me even more. I felt in the way and unworthy of life. I spent most of my waking hours hiding in the shadows, watching others live their lives.

"I suffered from a malady that caused a hemorrhage of blood. And in our society, anyone who touched me or anything I had touched, either purposely or accidentally, was considered ritually unclean until evening. They were then required to wash all their clothes and bathe with water. When I first became ill, a few had pity on me, willing to perform the rituals after having contact with me. But that quickly grew tiresome for my family and friends. Plus there was the lingering foul odor and untidiness of it all. It was simply easier for people to stay away from me.

"Doctors didn't know how to treat my disease and often the 'cure' was humiliating and painful, worse than the illness. The cost of treatments left me penniless. Having exhausted any possibility of a cure and living in poverty, I was at my lowest point, feeling truly abandoned.

"Then Jesus arrived in our town. People called him the 'gentle healer.' The afflicted and hopeless whispered his name with deep affection. He offered healing of mind and body and soul, a new beginning.  I hadn't stopped dreaming of being whole again, doing the normal things women do every day. So I gathered up what little courage I had left and searched the neighborhoods for Jesus. I found him surrounded by men, women and children, all wanting to see his face, to receive healing and a promise of better things. For the first time in years, my heart soared. I was absolutely caught up in the excitement and decided on the spot if I could just touch his garment, somehow that would be enough. I knew better than to think I could actually approach him.

"Then I noticed the prominent synagogue leader, Jairus, walking with Jesus.  They were on their way to Jairus' house because his little twelve-year-old daughter was dying. My heart sank. My plan was shattered. Touching Jesus' clothing would render him ritually impure and he would not be allowed to enter Jairus' home. But I was desperate and instantly convinced myself to do it anyway because, after all, Jesus wouldn't know who had touched him. People were all around him, reaching out to him, bumping against him.

"I pushed through the thick crowd, finally crawling on my knees, between legs and over feet, managing to reach the spot where Jesus was about to pass by. I stretched out my hand, barely touching the fringe of his robe. Immediately, I felt a surge of healing and strength coarse through my body. Breathless, I struggled to my feet and backed away, stunned. Jesus called out: 'Who touched me!' I froze. He repeated the question. I wanted to run but instead fell at his feet, terrified because he had caught me. Sobbing and choking on my words, I poured out my story.

"Amazingly, there was no rebuke, no scolding for delaying and defiling him. Instead, Jesus praised my faith and said what I had been hoping again hope to hear: 'Take heart, daughter, you are free from your suffering!' But as he spoke, he was interrupted by one of Jairus' servants bringing news that Jairus' beloved daughter had died. I swallowed hard, thinking I was the cause of her death. I had selfishly delayed Jesus and now the synagogue ruler's only child was dead. I feared retribution from Jairus, but Jesus quickly reassured him, saying: 'Don't be afraid. Just believe.' Confused and conflicted, I followed Jesus and the crowd to Jairus' house. There Jesus raised his daughter from the dead! Everyone was astounded. The master had graciously delivered us both!

"And just like that, it was all over. After twelve years, I was no longer the untouchable woman in my village. Jesus had healed my body and restored my soul. He had publicly validated my faith. What a glorious time I had returning to normal living, doing things that most took for granted. No more hiding in the shadows. No more shame and rejection. No more pain. No more isolation and loneliness. For the first time in twelve years, I embraced life and all those around me!

Mark 5:21-42
(c) Joyce Catherwood 2011

Girl Talk

2010-12-14T21:26:00.009-06:00

                And the sky was bright with a holy light, twas the birthday of a king....

Preface: In the same way I stand transformed at the cross of Jesus and the unthinkable rejection and agony he suffered for me, I am also transformed by the incarnation--God of all creation born as a helpless baby. The very thing we as humans long for, the splendor and glory of the heavenly realm, our Savior readily gave up to become an infinitesimal speck of life in Mary's dark womb. It is truly the greatest story every told. At the onset of Mary's pregnancy, she visited her older cousin Elizabeth. They both had miraculous conceptions and were told their babies would be extraordinary. Imagine all the girl talk that must have taken place about their amazing circumstances.

Elizabeth shares details of Mary's visit to her home:

"Mary danced across our threshold. Even after several days of mountainous travel, her lovely dark eyes sparkled and she was full of smiles as she greeted us. Her tunic was tattered and dusty and her sandals were worn thin. Stones and thorns along the way had etched deep scratches into her feet, but Mary didn't seem to notice as she moved about lightly with the ease of youth. My little cousin was accustomed to trekking up and down narrow hillside footpaths because of her usual daily duties of tending sheep or carrying water.

"And now she was carrying greatness, the only Son of God, supernaturally conceived by the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit. I was also with child, miraculously conceiving in my old age. To say I was delighted to be pregnant would be an understatement after spending many barren years of disappointment and enduring disgrace by society because I couldn't bear a child.

"When the babe in my womb heard the sound of Mary's voice, he leaped with joy, just as though he knew his Lord had entered our home! Exhilarated, I responded: 'Blessed are you among women and blessed is the child you will bare! Why am I so favored that the mother of my Lord should come to me?' We hugged, holding onto each other. Mary, unable to contain her excitement, burst into song, glorifying God. She was thrilled that she had been chosen to be the mother of Messiah--the longstanding dream of every young Jewish girl.

"Over the next three months, it became clear exactly why Mary came to visit me. In spite of our age difference, we had much in common. We spent the days, then lighting candles and staying up late into the nights, chatting and sharing--wonderful girl talk--about everything. There were so many things to discuss and compare. We were both bearing our firstborn child. We both knew in advance we would have sons and even knew their names would be John and Jesus. We shared the same angel messenger, Gabriel, who told us our sons would be great men. We pondered the angel's words and wondered what it would be like for Mary to be mother of the Son of the Most High. We mused over how John would turn hearts back to God, preparing the way for Mary's son, Jesus. We wept as we realized that I, because of my age, would probably not live to see all this come about.

"And we shared apprehension of the birth process, having seen many a sister deliver a bundle of wrinkled newborn flesh, encircled by women, supporting and soothing the moaning mother. Women's work, it's called, while the men sit in silence in the courtyard. Little did we know that Mary would have to bring her baby into the world in unfamiliar and crude surroundings, without feminine support, and with only Joseph at her side.

"Toward the end of her stay, my long anticipated boy was born as expected, with family and neighbors sharing in the festivities. Oh, and I should mention my husband, Zechariah, a priest, who was struck dumb by the angel Gabriel prior to my pregnancy, finally spoke again.  His inability to communicate gave Mary and me a lot of time to spend together, since I couldn't talk to him.  Zechariah was about to explode when he finally got his voice back. He then prophesied more wondrous things about John and Jesus.

"John's birth was an answer to the prayer we had prayed for years for my barren state to be lifted. But Gabriel said it would also strengthen Mary, showing her that nothing is impossible with God. She returned home refreshed and ready to face potential cruel slander by her neighbors and dismay of her family as it became obvious that she had become with child prior to marriage. She was sure, with her loving Joseph by her side, that everything would be OK.

"Six months later, Mary bore her holy infant in the most humble of circumstances, unnoticed by the rest of the world. But in celestial realms, the day of Jesus' birth was cause for jubilant celebration! Shepherds in a nearby field described how the heavens opened and an angel appeared in a blaze of glory, terrifying them. They said the angel reassured them saying: "Don't be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy for everyone! Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is Messiah and Lord!" The shepherds recounted how suddenly a massive angelic choir appeared around the angel.  Their song rippled thunderously through the countryside as they praised God in the highest, proclaiming peace on earth. Heaven erupted in joy that day; Earth had finally received her King!

"Sharing our souls, our hearts, our hopes and dreams as moms-to-be, Mary and I formed a deep and powerful bond during her visit that will remain with us forever.

Luke 1:5-80
Photo caption from song The Birthday of a King by William Harold Neidlinger

                                                                               (c) Joyce Catherwood 2010

1st Century Soccer Mom

2010-10-16T22:49:00.001-05:00

Preface:  Way before there were SUVs and seemingly round-the-clock soccer or a myriad of other child-related events, most of us as mothers had some "soccer mom" in us. We all want the best for our kids and want our kids to be the best.  We haven't all had the same opportunities or finances to haul our kids all over town to every imaginable type of lesson or activity. But there is no denying we would welcome any chance to advance our sons and daughters so that they might be more successful. It shouldn't be difficult then to understand why Solome, the mother of disciples James and John, would dare to ask Jesus if he would give her sons top jobs during his Messianic reign over the Jews. We would probably do the exact same thing. Though her request turned out to be inappropriate at the time, Jesus' response was patient and thoughtful. He understands that moms will always be moms.

Solome tells her story.

"Yes, Jesus had said he was going to die, but we assumed his work has just begun. My husband, Zebedee, and I, and both of our sons, James and John, were swept up in the contagious energy of his exciting ministry. Everywhere Messiah went huge crowds followed. He touched lives, healed the sick and he had even raised the dead. It was amazing! It was exhilarating! We thought his influence could not be contained and would explode, finally leading to his Messianic rule from Jerusalem.

"I was overjoyed to follow Jesus and care for his needs. It was as though he were my own son. He nicknamed my boys 'Sons of Thunder' because of their enthusiasm and eagerness to assist him. He and John had become best of friends. We felt especially close to him. He was family. So as we traveled together to Jerusalem one bright sun-shiny day, it seemed perfectly natural to me to ask Jesus for a favor.   With James and John by my side, I kneeled before Jesus and asked him if my sons could have prominent positions in his kingdom.

"We gazed at him with great anticipation, waiting for his response. But it was not what we expected. He said he didn't think we really understood what we were asking. He asked James and John if they could drink of the cup he was to drink. They said, 'Yes, we can!" But we were not sure exactly what he meant by that. We felt he must have been referring to all that would be involved in his Messianic reign. I wondered what else it could be.  His frequent references to arrest and crucifixion had troubled me. But I put that aside because his influence and miracles were so impressive, it didn't seem possible that could ever occur.

"I began to feel uneasy as a wave of embarrassment swept over me. Then I knew for sure my request was not the best idea when things began to unravel.  Jesus' response had been patient and considerate, but the other ten disciples had overheard our conversation. Before long, a heated argument erupted over who should be the greatest. The ten indignantly turned on James and John. Jesus had to step in to straighten everyone out, explaining the greatest must first become a servant.

When we reached Jerusalem, our hopes and spirits soared. Jesus entered the city triumphantly with great fanfare. But our dreams were quickly dashed to pieces when Jesus was indeed arrested a few days later just as he had predicted. The adoring crowds turned vicious. This strong, tender-hearted young man had done nothing but good to others. Yet he was mocked, slapped and spat on. He was brutally beaten. Even the execution soldiers were shocked at the extent of his wounds. I watched with unbelieving eyes, determining not to leave him even though many, including most of his disciples, had fled for their lives.

The grim process dragged throughout the afternoon. My son John had also stayed by him, comforting Jesus' mother, Mary, as she knelt in unspeakable sorrow before the cross. Through parched lips and struggling for breath, Jesus asked his dear friend John to care for his mother. My brave son took Mary's hand and gently led her back to us. Then Jesus died.

Three days later, he was raised from the dead! We were exuberant beyond words. It was there, at the foot of the cross, that I finally began to understand what it meant to follow him. How foolish of us to ask for prominence.  He had not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."

Mt. 20:17-28

(c) Joyce Catherwood 2010

Talk About Leftovers!

2010-09-07T16:15:00.001-05:00

Preface:  Have your ever wondered why Jesus chose to use a child's lunch to feed the multitudes? A lot can be said, but singling out that youngster must have made him feel very special and proud. Can't you just see the crooked boyish grin on his face as Jesus knelt down to his level, looked at his meager offering in a basket and said, "That will do just fine." You know how little boys can look so pleased and a little embarrassed when they have done something right. Meanwhile, the disciples were worrying about how much it would cost to purchase food for everyone and what a hassle it would be. They had already suggested that Jesus disperse the crowd so they could go find something to eat in the nearby villages.

If we have a little boy in the story, most likely there is a mom who made the lunch. It isn't difficult for me to imagine the huge effect it must have had on the young boy and probably his mom and dad to be allowed to be so instrumental in a miracle of such magnitude.  Having just heard of his beloved cousin John's execution, Jesus was seeking some solitude, but when he looked up and saw the massive crowd, he was overcome with compassion for them. I think using an impressionable local family this way sounds exactly like something he would do. It would be a remarkable story the family would talk about for the rest of their days and pass on for generations to follow.

Let's let the little boy's mom tell the story:

"The bread was still hot, fresh from the hearth when my husband ran into the house and instructed us to get dressed and pack a quick lunch. He had just heard that Jesus' boat was about to land on the lake shore near our village. So I quickly complied and grabbed some of the bread and several dried fish and put them into a basket.

"I wasn't entirely prepared to spend the day listening to a rabbi. And when I realized we had to walk a distance, to a remote mountainside, I was even less enthusiastic. Besides, most religious leaders intimidated me with their superior ways and nitpicking. I wasn't in the mood to be berated and feel put down. But, not having any choice, I picked up our lunch and took my son by the hand, dutifully following my husband as we scurried along the shore and up the hillside.

"Thousands had gathered in a grassy area. Some were blind, some lame with twisted bodies. There were lepers, beggars, destitute individuals who felt rejected and used. The restless crowd seemed to cry out for healing and mercy. The sights, sounds and smells were staggering and unsettling. I felt apprehensive and hid behind my husband, tightly holding onto my son.

"But as the day progressed and Jesus walked through the throngs of people, I watched in amazement as he tenderly touched the faces of the ill and healed them. He pulled a restored lame man to his feet and danced in joyful circles with him. He comforted those who mourned, beckoning the weary and heavy-laden to come to him. Treating these individuals with dignity and respect, he lifted their hearts. Desperate people, whose dreams had long since dried up, found fresh hope in his open arms.

"A calm finally settled over the multitude; then the gentle healer began to teach us, breathing new life into our hearts and minds. The day went by in a flash. As evening approached, Jesus realized the people were hungry and word quickly spread that food was needed. Our basket still contained five loaves and two fish. We had been standing close by, so I gave the basket to my son and nudged him toward Jesus and his disciples. The disciple Andrew was amused and expressed doubts whether this meager food offering would be of any help.  But when my little boy presented the basket to Jesus, he bent down, and with a huge smile told him this was exactly what he needed. My son ran back to us, proud as he could be.

"Jesus instructed everyone to sit down on the lush green slope. He looked up toward heaven, gave thanks and began to break the bread and divide the fish, giving portions to his disciples. They in turn divided those pieces and passed them down the rows of people. The supply never ran out! And there were even twelve baskets of leftovers! Not a crumb was wasted.

"Jesus turned my homemade barley loaves and two small fish into an unforgettable feast. He not only fed our souls with his love and acts of kindness and healing, he satisfied the hunger of thousands.  Not at all what I had expected as I reluctantly followed my husband up the mountainside that day. I returned home on a high!"

Matthew 14:13-21; John 6:1-15

(c) Joyce Catherwood 2010

"This Sister of Mine...."

2010-08-06T20:55:00.001-05:00

Preface: I'm a Mary wanna-be, you know, as in the Mary and Martha story. But, alas, I'm afraid I fit the Martha profile much more closely.  Martha pulled out all the stops to make Jesus' visit to their home extraordinary. She meant well, but there were so many things to do and so little time that she worked herself into a frenzy, became anxious and demanding and missed the whole point of being with Jesus. If you're a fan of old British TV comedies, you'll know what I mean when I say Martha reminds me a little of Hyacinth and her gourmet candlelight suppers in Keeping Up Appearances. Hyacinth becomes totally annoying to everyone around her as she gets all wrapped up in the preparation details. But Jesus' response to Martha when she was at her wit's end was gentle and calming. After all, he knew what it was like to carry the weight of the world. He invited her to leave her worries and cares and find refuge in him.

Let's hear Martha's side of the story:

"Mary was really beginning to get on my nerves. There was so much to do. I had opened up our home to thirteen hungry men, with Jesus as honored guest. I wanted this to be a banquet fit for a messiah. I'm usually sufficiently organized, but the elaborate meal preparations and oversite of details somehow spiraled out of control.  And where was my sister, Mary? Sitting at the feet of Jesus! Which isn't customary for women, by the way.

"I thought to myself, what if I did that too? Who would prepare the meal? Who would meet the needs of the guests and see to it that everyone was served?  And I was so exhausted. I'd gone at the market at dawn, purchasing the freshest of everything, searching for special spices. Nothing was too good for the famous teacher.

"As I hurried around, frantically trying to make sure everything would be ready at the appropriate time, I grew more and more irritated with Mary. Finally, I'd had enough. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I marched into the courtyard where Jesus and the others sat in the shade of our olive tree and blurted out, "Lord, don't you care that this sister of mine has left me to do the work all by myself? Tell her to help me!" I gave Mary a hard look and then turned to Jesus, hoping he'd set her straight.

"As I look back on it now, I realize Jesus had every reason to react negatively and sharply to my curt interruption and snippy attitude. He so easily could have retorted, "Why can't you be more like Mary?" But he didn't. Instead he said with a soothing tone in his voice, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about so many things, but only one thing is worth being concerned about; Mary has chosen it and it shouldn't be taken away from her."

"I was so embarrassed, but not by Jesus' discreet response. No, I had managed to humiliate myself by my own impetuous and inconsiderate outburst. As I held back the tears stinging my eyes, I knew Jesus cared deeply about me, and that he more than appreciated my hard work. I couldn't believe I had accused our dearest friend of not caring.

"Truth be known, I suppose I was jealous of Mary. She always seemed to reach out from her heart, and people sensed her love and responded to her emotionally. For me it was different. People appreciated me for my hospitality and fine meals, but it was always difficult for me to slow down and give my guests and friends my undivided attention, taking the time to interact on a more personal level.

"Only a few days before Jesus' arrest, I had arranged another special meal for him. But at the time I didn't know he would soon be arrested and die.  So I was surprised when Mary unabashedly honored Jesus by anointing his feet and head with expensive perfume. She did this in front of all the men in the middle of their supper. And yes, she did interrupt my carefully planned meal. But at least this time I did something right by holding my tongue. And I was so thankful that I had because Judas, who later betrayed Jesus, severely criticized Mary. Jesus told him to leave her alone and praised her for doing such a beautiful thing.

"I think Mary intuitively realized Jesus needed honor and reassurance from his close friends because she had picked up on his warnings that his death was imminent. If, like Mary, I had been quietly listening to Jesus during his visits to our home instead of always viewing the meal as the highest priority, I might also have grasped what Mary understood.

"Later, as details emerged of his cruel and brutal crucifixion, and then of his glorious resurrection and ascension, I truly regretted that I had not been more understanding and attentive in my interaction with Jesus as my sister, Mary, had. Mary comprehended that knowing Jesus, sitting at his feet and listening to him, was the only thing worth being concerned about. Everything else would fall into place."
Luke 10:38-42; John 12:1-7

(c) Joyce Catherwood 2010

"Leave Her Alone!"

2010-07-11T22:37:00.000-05:00

For some reason, I identify profoundly with Mary of Bethany. Not because I could stand up to the same measure of devotion she showered on Jesus, but because it is so easy for me to doubt myself. I feel as though I am always saying or doing the wrong thing when reaching out. This may be because of the reaction or lack of reaction of others or simply a dose of low self-esteem. But how embarrassing for Mary as she reverently anointed Jesus to very quickly find herself in the crossfire of harsh, confusing criticism from the disciples. I'm sure for several moments she was convinced she had blown it. The way Jesus protectively took her side and defended her has long been a source of great encouragement to me. Sometimes, in my attempts to reach out to others, I know I actually do mess up. The awesome thing is Jesus is constantly there to rescue us, validate us and redeem our well-intended, though sometimes misunderstood, actions no matter what.

Jesus said Mary of Bethany's story will be told throughout the world.  So listen to it now as Mary recalls the events of that day:

"I stood silently in the doorway of the common room of our home where, in honor of Jesus, a specially-prepared meal was being served to the disciples and my brother, Lazarus. The conversation at the table was animated. Everyone was still celebrating the astounding resurrection of my brother from the dead! No one seemed to notice the fatigue in Jesus' eyes and that his heart seemed heavy.

"I was waiting for the right moment to anoint Jesus with costly spikenard. I had carefully planned this for days because on several occasions, Jesus had confided in us that he was going to die a gruesome death by crucifixion. No one really believed him, but I did, and I was deeply affected and disturbed.

"I stood in the doorway for a long time. Finally, the time seemed right. It wasn't easy to enter a room full of men. My heart was pounding as I timidly approached Jesus carefully holding the precious alabaster jar. First one guest, then another looked up at me. I broke the neck of the jar on the stone floor. The sound reverberated through the whole house. I started trembling because now I was the absolute center of attention. But as the sweet fragrance of perfume filled the air, I began to calm down and reminded myself of why I was there. I poured the spikenard on Jesus' head. Everyone watched Jesus' face to see his reaction. He just closed his eyes and the travel-weary and drawn expression on his face began to melt away. I could tell Jesus realized that I understood that he was going to die soon. And I knew the thought of dying was excruciating for him.

"Caught up in the beauty of it all, I then fell to my knees and emptied the last of the luxurious ointment, every drop in the beautiful jar, on his feet. I untied my hair and used it to gently wipe each foot.  It was as though Jesus and I were the only two people in the room.  It was going exactly as I had planned.

"But I was rudely jerked back to reality by the voice of Judas. He loudly and indignantly complained about the waste of expensive perfume, insisting that I should have used the money instead to help the poor. Then some of the other men chimed in and harshly rebuked and criticized me. My heart sank. There I was in the presence of men with my hair untied--a definite indiscretion in our culture. I had interrupted their feast. I suddenly felt so foolish having spent all that money on the spikenard. I began to cry.  Too humiliated to raise my head, I remained bowed before Jesus. Huge teardrops fell on Jesus' feet and I awkwardly tried to wipe them off with my hair.

"Overwhelmed with shame and embarrassment, I started to get up and run out of the room when I heard Jesus say, 'Leave her alone! Why are you bothering her? She has done such a beautiful thing to me.' And in front of all those important men he said the poor would always be among us, but he would not always be there. He said the perfume was used appropriately--to prepare him for his burial. And then he said: 'You can be sure wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she had done will be told in memory of her.'

"I was speechless. Jesus not only understood what I was trying to do, he also praised my act of devotion. I glanced over at Judas and his face was flush with resentment. He stood up and left the house. Later, I learned he had immediately gone to the religious leaders and arranged to betray Jesus. A few days later, heartbroken, I wept bitter tears as Jesus was unjustly sentenced to death, tortured and crucified. And I was so thankful I had arranged to honor him through my anointing before he was made to suffer so. But my sorrow was soon turned into the greatest possible joy when he was raised back to life. I was the first to see him and talk to him!

"Now, whenever I look back on that special banquet and remember Jesus' words and his gentle kindness toward me, I have a feeling of immense satisfaction that I poured out my adoration on our Lord, the very Son of God. It did provide him solace and helped to ease his fears as he faced the horror and desolation of the cross. And that is all I had wanted to do. I am so glad I followed my heart."

Matthew 26:6-10; Mark 14:3-10; John 12:1-7

"Don't Cry..."

2010-05-23T22:52:00.004-05:00

Preface: Do you think it's possible to imagine how the widow of Nain felt after Jesus raised her son from the dead! How can we even envision such a thing? I feel completely inadequate trying to find words to describe something so out of the ordinary, something supernatural. None of us has ever experienced having a child brought back to life, on the way to the cemetery. But she did! Our dear Lord Jesus, so filled with compassion, was moved by her tears. His heart went out to her. And right then and there, he touched her life in the most unbelievable way.

The widow from Nain tells her story:

"The last place I wanted to be was in another funeral procession, with my anguish laid bare in front of everyone. I was the center of attention, the recipient of sympathy and pity, but all I wanted to do was curl up in a dark corner somewhere and die. It was devastating to go through it again--first the death of my husband, and then my only son. I was convinced the aching pain in my heart from these losses was never going to go away. My precious son had been a constant source of comfort and joy. He was all I had.

"As we followed the funeral bier being carried through the streets of Nain, villagers came out of their shops and homes and joined the procession. Some were truly sympathetic. But others joined the flow of people because it was custom to do so. They meant well--gazing at me and shaking their heads. As they silently fell in line, they wondered what would happen to me now, with no husband, no son to provide for me.

"It was true. I would be destitute: a victim of a dispassionate system. Just being a woman relegated me to an inferior status, but being a widow added another layer to the discrimination, making me easy prey for the unscrupulous and fraudulent. But I no longer cared. Bent over in grief and tears blinding my eyes, it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other. 'Just keep going,' I told myself. 'Just keep walking.' I remember the sound of shuffling feet on the stone streets was strangely mesmerizing, helping numb my tormented mind to the cruel reality of my loss.

"As we passed through the town gate, a man suddenly came up behind me and gently touched my shoulder. With a soothing voice, he tenderly said, 'Don't cry.' Before I could turn to see who it was, he hurried past me. It was Jesus, the teacher from Galilee. He went directly to the bier and laid his hand on it. I felt the crowd shrink back in shock as they observed a Rabbi ritually defile himself by touching a dead body--my son's dead body. The bearers of the bier stopped abruptly, startled that someone had interrupted a funeral procession.

"Everyone, mourners and onlookers alike, stood still. Jesus, visibly moved with empathy said 'Young man, I say to you, get up!' Immediately, my son sat up! I gasped. My heart stopped as I heard my son begin to speak. Staring at everyone around him, he blurted, 'What's going on?'

"He had no idea what had happened. He thought he had just awakened from a dream. Recognizing some friends, he asked, 'What happened to me? Where am I?' Stunned and speechless, his friends just stood there with their mouths open, watching a dead person talk to them! Jesus quickly loosened the white linen burial garments that had bound my son in death. Helping him off the bier, he put his arm around my boy and led him to my open arms. The shocked crowd of witnesses trembled with fear and awe, and glorified God, calling Jesus a great prophet.

"Ever since that amazing event, I have often wondered, why me? As he happened upon our sad procession that day, what compelled Jesus to dry a widow's tears? Had he been thinking of his own impending death, and of his widowed mother? And how broken her heart would be as she watched her firstborn son die on a cross like a common criminal? Not many months later, in his last agonizing moments of life, Jesus comforted his mother. Fighting for breath and barely able to speak, he arranged for her to be cared for by his closest friend. So maybe that's why his heart went out to me. I can't say for sure. I only know that, somehow, my pain was important to Jesus. He felt my grief, he knew my uncertain plight and future, and he redeemed my life and changed my destiny by raising my only son from the dead.

Luke 7:11-16

(C) Joyce Catherwood 2010

The Crumpled Red Poppy

2010-04-05T21:21:00.008-05:00

Preface: It warms my heart that Jesus would surround himself with little children, taking them in his arms, validating their existence and importance. Remember, women and children were viewed as second class citizens, definitely not deserving of time and attention of most rabbis. On that particular day when Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me..." there were parents and children of all types present. Their stories are not revealed. But there had to be many worthy of being heard. Though our story is imagined, Jesus' accepting love and comfortable, relaxed way with children remains unchanged. After all, Jesus created children, how could he not enjoy them?

A young mom tells us what it was like to have her precious little daughter blessed by Jesus.

"I held onto my Lydia tightly as I made my way through the massive crowd. She looked so sweet--all fresh and clean, dressed in her very best. We were going to receive a blessing from Rabbi Jesus. She proudly clasped a red poppy in her chubby little hand, so excited to give it to Jesus. In the distance, I could see other parents already gathering. Then, as I got closer, I overheard Jesus' disciples harshly rebuking the moms and dads who had brought their children to be blessed. Everyone looked duly chastised as they were told Jesus had many more important matters to attend to. Their loud, stern and unfriendly tone actually startled and frightened some of the little ones and made them cry.

"Had I misunderstood what Jesus was really like? I had previously observed his respectful and loving interaction with both young and old, especially the powerless and those regarded as insignificant. This was a huge letdown for me. Normally I am ridiculously intimidated by rabbis, but I had truly expected Jesus to be different. So, deeply disappointed, I turned around to go back home. Our society doesn't validate children, especially fatherless little girls like mine, and I wondered why I had ever thought otherwise. Lydia realized we were leaving and put her head on my shoulder, crying softly, still clutching her prized red poppy.

"But I stopped in my tracks when I heard Jesus rebuking the "rebukers"! He told his disciples to let the little children come to him and not to hinder them because the kingdom of God belongs to them! He said whoever does not receive the kingdom like a little child will never enter it. It was amazing! As the disciples backed off, parents hesitantly stepped forward with their kids. I turned back and joined them

"As we gathered around, Jesus knelt down and reached out to coax a wobbly toddler, with a runny nose and tattered clothes, to come to him. Then all of a sudden, a playful young boy standing behind him pulled away from his father's hand, ran to Jesus and jumped on his back, throwing his arms around his neck. Everyone froze, waiting for Jesus' reaction. With an enormous grin on his face, Jesus stood up, held onto the boy's arms and twirled him around. Within minutes, Jesus was surrounded by giggling children, tugging on his sleeve, hanging onto his leg--all wanting to get in on the action. After a while, Jesus took each child, one by one, in his arms, cradling the infants and lifting the others high into the air before blessing them.

"And as for my own little bundle of joy, well, we waited our turn. Then Jesus very graciously accepted the bright red poppy Lydia offered to him, even though it was a little crumpled by that time. Sensing her shyness, he gently picked her up and for a few treasured moments they marveled at the beauty of her little gift, both deciding it was their favorite flower. Then he blessed her. Unaccustomed to special treatment, his blessing made us both feel so cherished.

"The 'littleness' of these children contrasted sharply with the well-meaning, but overbearing reaction of the disciples. These precious ones, so used to being ignored, pushed aside, even mistreated, not only received a blessing and validation from the humble Messiah, but were lifted up as tender examples of the very essence of the kingdom of God."

Matthew 19:13-15; Mark 10:13-15; Luke 18:15-17

What A Day This Has Been!

2010-03-20T23:56:00.010-05:00

Preface: It had not been an ordinary day for Simon Peter's wife. Her mother almost died. The whole town turned out at her front door. Her initial encounter with Jesus was one she would not ever forget. She witnessed his healing hand in her own family and his unending compassion for the lowest and most unfortunate society had to offer. She kept asking herself over and over, "Who is this man?" and found herself inexplicably drawn to his goodness.

Peter's wife tells about the events of the day:

"The entire city had turned up at our house! The mass of people filling every street and pathway leading to our porch waited until the sabbath drew to a close because they felt Jesus would not help them on the sabbath. Then, as soon as the sun set, they started banging on our door, peering over our wall and even into our windows. These were individuals who were, more often than not, shunned by society and viewed by the religious leaders as unclean or unworthy, but they somehow knew Jesus would not turn them away. It was an unsettling sight to say the least. But Jesus put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, telling me not to worry as he pushed the door open and stepped into the midst of them.

"For a brief moment. I left the door open slightly to see what was going on. A desperate mother in ragged clothes thrust her dying baby into Jesus' arms, begging for help. A blind man crawled on the ground just behind her, frantically groping for the healer. Some stood patiently waiting their turn, but others were unable to contain themselves. One poor soul whose mind was completely gone, screamed and clawed his way to the front line. I nervously shut the door as Jesus patiently and lovingly healed and comforted the insistent crowd. And when he had tended to them all, he wearily came back into the house and fell asleep.

"What a day this had been! Only a few hours earlier, my mother lay restlessly confined to her bed in an upper chamber of our home. She had been stricken with a great fever. She was massively dehydrated, her lips parched, her skin burning hot to the touch. Her breathing was shallow and raspy and she drifted in and out of unconsciousness and bouts of delirium.

"After teaching in the synagogue, Jesus, accompanied by his new disciples James and John, arrived at our home. Jesus was instantly concerned after Peter, his brother Andrew and I met him at the door, filled with anxiety over my mother's condition. He climbed the stairs to her room, stood beside the bed and took her hand. Lifting her up, he commanded the fever to leave. To our amazement, she opened her eyes, and, somewhat startled and confused, glanced around the room. We all stood there, momentarily stunned, staring at her and then, when we came to our senses, gave her the biggest hug she could handle. After gathering her composure, she expressed her deepest gratitude to Jesus, then demurely excused herself, got dressed and went downstairs to do what she does best--lovingly prepare food and make a fuss over everyone!

"As we shared a meal together, we basked in the glow of mom's fresh, new radiant health and the presence of this remarkable man, spending an afternoon like no other.

"How did it happen that the great healer came to our home? My brother-in-law, Andrew, who shares our residence, was a disciple of the great John the Baptist. Weeks earlier, John the Baptist and Andrew had seen Jesus walk by. John the Baptist had just baptized Jesus the day before. He grabbed Andrew by the arm and declared: "It's him! The Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!" Andrew then spent the day with Jesus, and afterwards couldn't wait to tell my husband Peter, and take him to meet Jesus. They were both convinced they had found the Messiah! Peter was beside himself with enthusiasm. He had always been given to impulsive behavior, but this was different. I could tell.

"And after witnessing Jesus restore my precious mother and then spend hours late into the night compassionately relieve the suffering of the neediest, I was ready to fully support Peter's desire to be his disciple. I have no doubts our mundane fisherman's existence is about to change forever and that we are in for the ride of our lives!"

Matthew 8:14-16; Mark 1:29-34; Luke 4:38-41

The Bride's Story

2010-03-16T22:14:00.010-05:00

My granddaughter trying on her mom's wedding dress for fun

Preface: Jesus wasn't about to let a young bride's big day be ruined. True, the amazing miracle of turning water into wine signaled the beginning of his historic ministry. But Jesus had indicated to his mom that it was not yet time to go public with his supernatural signs, so why did he finally agree to intervene when the celebration ran out of wine? I believe he purposely came to the rescue of a family in distress on what was supposed to be one of the most joyful and memorable days of their lives. Jesus stepped in because he wanted the wedding to be a success!

Let's let the bride tell her story in her own words:

"I had dreamed of my wedding day forever! My groom and I had been promised to each other since childhood. Now our year of engagement, filled with anticipation and careful preparation, had drawn to a close and the time for our grand and glorious wedding feast had finally arrived.

"I had fasted all day as required by our religious teaching, so I felt somewhat light-headed. So it took a lot of extra effort to concentrate while reciting the prayers of atonement as part of my preparation. Though I had shed some nervous tears earlier, I had to smile when the groom's messengers arrived at long last and I watched them lay out the garments and ornaments and perfume I was to wear. My dear groom had been so extravagant, I could hardly believe my eyes!

"As evening drew closer, I stood proudly as my friends dressed me in my exquisite bridal gown and fabulous accessories. We giggled as we reminded each other of all the times we pretended to be brides, using old cast-off clothing and little handmade accessories we had made out of whatever we could find. But this was the real thing and the air was filled with excitement. On this day, I was allowed to let my long hair tumble down my back, framing my face as we carefully positioned the crown of fresh myrtle leaves on my head. Over it all we placed the long white veil of betrothal.

"And then I waited until dusk turned to darkness...

"Meanwhile, with much joy and shouting, my groom and his friends had "searched" the village for me, a traditional part of the ceremony. Finally I saw the torches as they entered my parent's courtyard. "Come see the treasure I have found," my groom said as he lifted my veil and our eyes met. We walked out onto the street into a procession filled with music and dancing. My groom led me proudly to his house and into the room reserved for the women. Surrounded by my maidens, I ever so elegantly sat down on the special platform prepared for me. I was not accustomed to being the center of attention and it was exhilarating!

"I could see into the room where the fabulous feast was spread for the men. Everything was just perfect. My father-in-law was bursting with satisfaction. So many years and expense had gone into the preparations, and the wine, a key element and a measure of a host's generosity, had been given much forethought.

"A few hours into the joyous celebration, I noticed confusion among some of the servers. I was stunned to learn they had run out of wine! This was the ultimate embarrassment and disgrace to my family. I couldn't hold back the tears as they trickled down my cheeks and onto my lovely wedding dress, leaving stains on the most precious thing I had ever owned.

""Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mary of Nazareth quickly leaving our women's table. She spoke briefly to my father-in-law and then approached her son, Jesus the carpenter. Shortly after, I overheard Jesus tell the servers to fill up, right to the brim, the six huge water jugs lined up in the corridor. Then he told them to draw some out of one of the jugs and give it to the master of the feast. When he tasted it, the feast-master immediately took my groom aside and asked him why he had saved the best wine till last!

My groom and his father were stunned and speechless. Their reputations had been saved and the biggest day of my life didn't end in disgrace. Mary told me later that Jesus was at first reluctant to perform such a miracle because it was not time for his powers to be shown publicly. But he did it anyway. For us!

"In the days to follow, Jesus went on to do the most astounding things, healing people, raising the dead, comforting the sick and downtrodden. And how can we ever forget how he chose our wedding feast to begin his magnanimous and renown work and, at the same time, touch our lives in such a personal and beautiful way."

John 2:1-11

What If Women Had Written the Gospels?

2010-03-16T16:59:00.006-05:00

What if women had written the Gospels? A loaded question, right? Well, maybe not...read on.

Obviously it would have been extremely unlikely for the Gospels to have been written by women. It would have violated societal and religious norms of first century Judaism. Women were not generally given the opportunity to be schooled and were considered unworthy to even study religious manuscripts, much less author them. In fact, in reference to the founding religious document of Judaism, the Torah, the Talmud suggests "Let the Torah rather be destroyed by fire than imparted to woman." Women learned about the sacred through their fathers, their husbands and the rabbis.

The inspired gospel accounts, authored by men, have of necessity been expressed and conveyed in male imagery. Now there is absolutely nothing wrong with the masculine view, but the feminine perspective often remains unspoken.

Several years ago, I emerged from an ultra-conservative church environment where men were the primary source of spiritual authority and teaching. Again, this is not a criticism of the male outlook, but the total absence of female input can lead to an imbalanced overview. I had been immersed in this restrictive atmosphere from age seven. Strange as it may seen, I had never read any books, written by men or women, on spiritual topics other than what had been published by my former denomination. It was a very closed community and "outside" reading was highly discouraged.

Once freed from these limitations, I felt somewhat lost and was eager to hear what other women had to say about their own spiritual journey. We, as women, receive courage from hearing each other's stories, told with openness, in the language of our own hearts. It gives value to our feminine nature because we sometimes find it difficult to believe our unique views as women are worthwhile. So, like a child in a candy store, I found myself pleasantly overwhelmed with the volumes of material out there by Christian female authors. One book title in particular intrigued me--The Magdalene Gospel with the subtitle "What If Women Had Written the Gospels" by Mary Ellen Ashcroft. It was one of the first books I read.

The Magdalene Gospel is an imaginative retelling of the gospel narratives from the perspective of Jesus' women followers. It provides feminine insight to the Gospels and offered me a new way to see Jesus. It gives voice to the group simply referred to as "the women," who were so close to Christ during his ministry.

In the time frame of the book, Mary Magdalene and "the women" are together scant hours after the death of their beloved friend and teacher. Envisioning myself sitting silently in the shadows of their candlelit room, I listened as they, stricken with grief, each tearfully shared cherished memories of their experiences with Jesus. They had just witnessed the horrors of the crucifixion and the premature death of their champion. They had watched Joseph of Arimathea carefully remove Jesus' body from from the cross and followed the somber procession of those who carried him to the rock-hewn tomb. They didn't fully understand that he would be raised up, so the loss of their master was suffocating. These women, through the heartfelt telling of their individual stories, introduced Jesus to me in a personal and touching way.

The inspired words of the gospel writers remain the same, but in this book, the words are filtered through the eyes and the hearts of "the women" Jesus befriended. They were healed, comforted, lifted up, and valued by Jesus in an oppressive society where women were viewed as second-class citizens. Their lives were overturned by his gentle and tender treatment of them. And they responded with emotion and devotion to their master. And so did I. These ladies opened the door for me to begin to view Jesus in a deeper, more relational context.

The Magdalene Gospel launched an in-depth and ongoing study on my part of the gospel accounts embracing "the women." And there is a part of me that is able to identify with each one as she interacted with Jesus while he lived as the Son of Man on this earth. Every story reveals a facet of Jesus' extraordinary unconditional love and compassion, uniquely expressed within the framework of a woman's needs.

No. Women didn't write the Gospels. But women were a vital and influential part of the gospel stories. Their voices can be heard today if we will just listen.

*The Talmud is a collection of ancient Jewish writings consisting of early scriptural interpretations of the law.

(C) Joyce Catherwood 2010