A Story of God and All of Us

PART SEVEN

MISSION

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The marketplace is crowded. The midday sun beats down hard, and flies alight on the fresh meats hanging in the butcher's stall. One booth over, the wife of a fisherman tries in vain to keep the sun off last night's catch, quietly praying that someone will buy the fish before it spoils. Vegetables, honey, and dates are for sale. The baker is the busiest vendor of all, with crowds lining up to purchase their daily bread, the symbolic reminder of God's ultimate authority over their future. It would be foolish to buy "monthly bread."

It would spoil. They buy it day by day, living in the moment, not fixated on a future they cannot control. That gives the people of Israel an important sense of peace at a time when their nation is tormented.

A foreign army still controls the country. People suffer from taxes and the excesses of the Roman rulers. Some days their bodies and spirits are sapped of energy, and they can't remember a time when they weren't drained and beaten down. This simple marketplace of friends and

neighbors, and food for sustenance, offers a few moments of peace.

For one woman in the crowd, there is no peace. Her mind has snapped and she is tormented by inner voices. Her face is dirty and contorted from her suffering, and she sweats profusely. She behaves like a mad dog, her eyes wild and mouth snarling. No one makes eye contact with her or offers her help.

A group of Roman soldiers strut into the marketplace and immediately begin to abuse the woman. They steal fruit from a vendor, who is powerless to stop them, then form a circle around the crazed woman and throw fruit at her. The game becomes more fun as she bobs and weaves to avoid their throws.

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"Get out of my way!" she screams at the Romans. "Stop spying on me! Stop it--leave me alone!"

After a few moments the Romans grow bored and move on. But another man approaches her, offering help. It is Peter, the newly anointed fisher of men.

"Stop following me! Get out of my way!" she screams, weaving her way through the crowd.

When Peter reaches out to help her, she spits in his face and lunges into the mass of people.

"Leave her!" someone yells to him. "She's possessed by demons. You can't help her."

Peter doesn't give up. He presses through the crowd, right behind the woman. She breaks through into an open space, grabs a pot from a stall, and then hurls it at Peter. She turns to run once again, but finds herself standing face-to-face with Jesus. "What do you want?" she bawls at him, completely unafraid. Her are eyes are clouded with confusion and rage.

When Jesus says nothing, she marches right up to him, raises the broken pot above her head, and stares defiantly into his eyes--imbued with a profound wisdom and peace.

"Come out of her!" Jesus commands the demon.

Violent energy whooshes out of the woman. Her face freezes in shock, her body loses its taut posture, and she collapses. She sobs, her shoulders heaving and torso shaking as the demons leave her, one by one. Her shaking slows. She looks up into Jesus' eyes once again and finds herself transformed by the divine spirit that pours out of him. The woman tries to speak, but she is too overwhelmed to make a sound.

Jesus gently places his hand on her forehead. "I will strengthen you and help you," he tells her.

She smiles. Her mind is clear, as if she has just emerged from a nightmare.

"What is your name?" Jesus asks.

"Mary. Mary of Magdala."

"Come with me, Mary."

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Peter watches Jesus approach him. The fisherman shakes his head in wonder. He knows that she has just learned what Peter and the other men who have joined him as disciples of Jesus already know: Jesus embodies God's promise of salvation. But the world has yet to discover who this extraordinary, charismatic man truly is.



Peter studies the faces of others in the crowd. They express wonder at the instant change that has come over the madwoman Mary. He hears their whispers: "It's him...." "It's that preacher..." "It's the prophet..."

Others are cynical. They've seen it all before. They're suspicious of this quiet carpenter. They don't believe he's a prophet.

The Roman soldiers study Jesus as if he is a threat. Their job, should this be the case, would be to subdue him immediately.

But Jesus doesn't give them cause to do so. His every action is one of peace. "Love one another," he tel s his fol owers. "By this wil al men know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."

Word of Jesus' miracles--as some are calling his healing powers--spreads quickly through Galilee. Everywhere he travels, crowds gather. Hundreds flock to his side, shuffling for position in the moving tide of humanity that instantly engulfs Jesus when he enters a town with his disciples.

The phenomenon grows with every mile and every footstep, every village and town. The disciples do their best to shield Jesus, but people long for a look from those powerful eyes, or merely to touch the hem of his cloak.

"Mercy, mercy, Lord have mercy," Peter mumbles again and again as he sees this growing adulation. "Where do they all come from? So much hunger. So much need."

In one small town the scene grows even more bizarre. Knowing that they cannot get to Jesus through the throngs, four young men clamber from roof to roof, carrying another man on a stretcher.

For a practical man like Peter, the decision to follow Jesus brings tests and challenges he never imagined--tests like the one that unfolds when 232

he attempts to get Jesus away from the crowds by drawing him into a small empty house for a few moments of peace. No sooner do they enter the home than Peter hears the sounds of roof tiles breaking, and those four young men dragging their paralyzed father to a perch on the roof.

Peter goes outside to wave them away, but the men pretend not to hear him.

They punch a hole in the thatch roof. Daylight appears in the room. From inside the open doorway, silhouetted against the mass of sunlit followers outside, Jesus begins to speak to the crowd outside. "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me," he continues, even as Peter tries in vain to keep the intruders out of their house. But it's too late. One young man has already dropped into the room, and his father has been lowered into his arms. Even if Peter had the power to reverse this situation, there's no going back.

"For I am gentle and humble in heart," Jesus continues, "and you will find rest for your souls."

Only now does Jesus acknowledge the ruckus behind him. He turns to see the paralyzed man lying on the floor, surrounded by Peter and the man's four sons.

Jesus walks toward the man. Peter stands back to make room. The

paralyzed man cannot walk, but he can move his arms. He reaches up his fingers to touch Jesus.

Jesus does not extend his arms to the man. Instead, he slowly pulls his hand away. As he does so, the paralyzed man, so desperate to touch Jesus, reaches out farther and farther--and the more he reaches, the more Jesus pulls back.

The look on Jesus' face is one of complete calm. He sees the struggle in the eyes of the man, a struggle that he quietly encourages. Finally, Jesus touches his fingertips to those of the paralyzed man. "Your sins are forgiven."

Mary Magdalene, who has followed Jesus along with the disciples, knows firsthand what Jesus can accomplish. She thought she had seen everything, but her mouth opens wide in shock at what is taking place.

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The man realizes he is no longer lying down, unable to move. He is sitting completely upright. Jesus says nothing. The man is emboldened and tries to stand. Everyone in the village knows this is impossible; he has been completely handicapped for years--his sons have had to care for him around the clock. His eyes fixed on Jesus, the man stands.

The crowd closest to the doorway backs away in shock. Those farther back press forward to see what has happened. Heads crane upward to get a better look. Some close their eyes in prayer.

The once-paralyzed man is swept away in euphoria. He hops and jumps like a child, dazzled. These simple movements soon become an impromptu dance, and his sons soon join in. The disciples dance, too. Hands start clapping in the small room, and soon the crowd outside joins in. Men start singing as the crowd sways to the beat of this unlikely and profound miracle.

They know that this proves Jesus' real connection to the power of God.

The healed man is exhausted. He stops dancing and comes to Jesus, who softly places his hand on the man's forehead. "Go home now, friend," Jesus tells him. "Your sins are forgiven."

These are not the words the man expected to hear. He shuffles his feet and looks at the ground. His friends stop dancing, the smiles gone from their faces. Soon, the entire crowd has gone silent. Jesus' words could be viewed as an act of blasphemy. Only God can forgive sins. To condone his words would be to act against God's authority.

Those in the crowd who belong to the religious sect known as the Pharisees understand that Jesus' words are more significant than his casting out demons or healing broken bodies. Devoted students of God's law, they distinguish between the powers God assigns to men and those He keeps for Himself. Pharisees listen to every teacher in Israel, paying close attention to their words for signs of either truth or blasphemy. No man equals Jesus. The claims he makes and the command with which he speaks is unsurpassed.

The masses have never rallied around a teacher so quickly and with such enthusiasm. Jesus knows what the Pharisees are thinking in their hearts.

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One of the Pharisees speaks up. "You can't do that."

"Do what?" Jesus asks.

"Forgive."

Jesus looks at him. Then he looks at the man he has just healed.

Peter leans over and whispers to Jesus, "Don't these people understand



what you just did?"

Jesus looks calmly upon Peter. For the world to understand his mission, Jesus must begin by making those closest to him understand. "Which is easier to say: 'Your sins are forgiven,' or 'Take up your bed and walk'?" he asks rhetorically.

The leader of the Pharisees, a man named Simon, shakes his head in disgust and leads his men away. He knows Jesus has become someone to fol ow very closely. They wil deal with him some other day.

"Come on," Jesus tells his disciples. He leads them out the door and into the crowd, in the opposite direction from the Pharisees. "Our work here is done.

We have a long way to go. We'd better get moving." Then he turns and begins walking out of town, leaving the people of the village to wonder what exactly they just witnessed.

Jesus' disciples have chosen to be brothers and sisters in Christ. Though they may not yet realize it, this puts them in the vanguard of a revolution--a religious revolution, one not found in ancient texts or in Jewish oral history.

Rather, it is a new promise that connects God's will to people's daily lives.

This is a difficult concept to grasp, but if the disciples are ever to lead, they need training.

Jesus takes the time to teach his disciples during their daily walks from city to city. His simple, poetic words are delivered casually and gently. Jesus prefers to explain a difficult concept over time, never talking down to his followers, patiently letting the words soak in until they understand them fully.

But Jesus doesn't just preach to the disciples. His revolution is a 235

grassroots movement: he preaches on dirt roads, in fields and villages, to farmers and fishermen and all manner of travelers. These working-class people of Israel form the backbone of his growing ministry. He stops often, standing on a hillside or by a river to address the thousands who flock to hear him, and preaches his new vision for the relationship between God and man. His goal is to liberate these oppressed people, who suffer so dearly under the Roman tax burden. But Jesus has no plans to form an army to save the Israelites from Rome. He wants to free them from something far more dire: sin.

Many don't understand. When Jesus says, "Blessed are they who hunger for righteousness, for they shall be filled," it sounds like a call to arms against Rome.

But then he says things like, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called Sons of God."

While many in the crowds hear his words as those of a political radical, many more are coming to understand Jesus' message of love. One evening, he stands on a rocky hillside as the sun sets. He has chosen this moment because his audience of farmers, shepherds, laborers, and their families do not have the financial luxury of taking time away from their occupation during working hours. They stand before Jesus, their long day finished, hands and arms sore from backbreaking labor, and listen to his words. They experience peace washing over their bodies, minds, and hearts. His loving presence touches them.

The evening sun is a dull orange, and the crowd is silent as Jesus tells them about his Father. He teaches the people how to pray, and even what words to say: "Our Father," Jesus begins, "who is in heaven, hallowed be thy name."

Jesus prompts them to really think about what this new prayer says. It begins by praising God's name. It continues with a plea for their daily bread, so that their bellies will be full. Then it turns to a request for forgiveness, because sin will keep them out of heaven. "Forgive us our trespasses," Jesus says,

"as we forgive those who trespass against us."

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He continues, and the crowd goes right along with him, memorizing the words so that they may say them in their own time of prayer. "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

So there it is. This is the new way to pray: Praise God. Depend upon him for your daily needs. Ask forgiveness. Forgive others. Ask God to keep you from trouble, and the pain that comes with sin.

The people know they can pray like this. But it all seems so... easy. Where is the animal sacrifice? Where is the need for a grand Temple, since they can



say this prayer anywhere, and at any time?

The sun is almost set by the time Jesus is finished. His audience presses forward to touch him. Their souls have been renewed by this new approach to prayer and God. They are strengthened, encouraged, and comforted.

They go back to their homes, brimming with new hope for their future, thanks to Jesus' insistence that God has prepared a place in heaven for all of them.

This life of toil and strife and Roman oppression will end someday, but the peace and love of heaven will be forever. To the people of Galilee, Jesus'

words feel like a spiritual rebirth.

To the Pharisees, they sound dangerous.

It is daytime, in a small town in Galilee. Hundreds of Israelites wait in line for the mandatory audience with the taxman to pay their tribute. The sound of coins being dropped onto the counting tables fills the air.

The first portion of these monies go to Rome. That much is decreed by law.

Failure to pay can mean imprisonment or death. But Rome has long had trouble collecting taxes, so they have farmed out the work to a group of freelance collectors. These men are all Jews, just like the people lined up to pay. So what they're doing is an act of extortion against their own people.

For to impose additional fees upon the burden that the already overwhelmed Israelis are suffering is not just onerous, it is treason. The covenant between God and Abraham does not exist between these cruel men and the people they extort. Those who gather taxes are thought worthy of nothing but contempt.

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Jesus and his disciples now pass by the lines of sullen men who wait to pay their taxes. "Collaborators and traitors. Taking money from their own people.

Sinners all," Peter grumbles beneath his breath. Criticizing the tax collectors is the same as criticizing Rome. He could pay for this indiscretion with his life.

The disciples are stunned to see Jesus carefully scrutinizing one of the tax collectors, whose hands count coins more slowly, his eyes, unwilling to look directly at his victims, betray sadness and doubt. The man's name, the disciples are soon to learn, is Levi. Despite appearing soft or even supportive to his fellow Jews, he is a taxman nonetheless.



"What do you see, Lord?" asks the disciple named John--not John the Baptist, who is still interred in the grisly jails of Herod Antipas.

Jesus doesn't answer. So John tries to see Levi through the eyes of Jesus.

What he sees is the look of a man lost in sin, longing for a way out but not believing that such a path exists. Jesus' gaze has been so hard and so direct that soon Levi raises his head to stare back at this powerful energy he feels.

His eyes soon connect with those of Jesus, just as the Son of God issues the following order: "Follow me."

In the blink of an eye, Levi understands the summons. "Follow me" is the same as saying, "Believe in me." Free from sin and doubt and worry and faithlessness. No matter what else happens in my life, I am free to choose.

The moment Levi places his faith in Jesus and follows him, his sins are forgiven and he is free. Levi stands up and walks away from the table, leaving piles of uncounted coins in his wake. The clink of coins from the other tax collectors goes on undiminished until they see what Levi has done.

Struck dumb, they stop their work and stare openmouthed at the utter stupidity of Levi walking away from a life of wealth and ease... and for what?

To fol ow this revolutionary named Jesus?

The disciples are incensed. Peter glares at Jesus, enraged that the new disciple is the lowest form of life known to the people of Israel.

"You don't like that I talk to tax collectors and sinners," Jesus says to Peter.

"But search your heart and hear what I have to say: It's not the 238

healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I'm not here to call the righteous. I'm here for the sinners."

Peter has no response. His name means "Rock," and it fits. He is as sturdy and hard as the day is long. His hands are calloused and his ways are not always polite. Following Jesus is a huge gamble, meaning the loss of income during those times when they are not out fishing. Levi becomes a follower disciple, and will from now on be called Matthew. Like it or not, Peter is loyal to Jesus and follows him to the next town on their journey.

Jesus squats in the town square, drawing in the dust with his finger. He is not drawing a picture, but a series of letters. He is not alone, nor is the scene tranquil. Directly behind him, a crowd is gathering to watch a stoning. A woman is forced to stand in front of a high wall, facing this crowd. Between the woman and the crowd rises a pile of smooth large stones. When the time comes, each man in the group will be asked to lift a stone and throw it hard at her face. They will do this again and again until she is unconscious, and then keep throwing stones until she is dead--or the pile is depleted, whichever comes first. Death always comes before the pile is used up.

The Pharisees have seen Jesus' popularity grow and watched with dismay as their own followers have taken up with him. They firmly believe that he is a blasphemer, and they have been searching for a way to prevent their entire populace from following him.

At one of his sermons, Jesus quite clearly told the crowd to uphold the law, knowing that to ignore Roman law would mean a wave of punishment

against his new followers. In Israel, Roman law and religious law are closely intertwined. If the Pharisees can catch Jesus in the act of breaking a religious law, then they can try him before a religious court. Based on the words of the Pharisees, if Jesus is also shown to be a radical or a revolutionary whose teachings will incite rebellion against Rome, he could also be tried before a Roman tribunal. But there is absolutely no 239

evidence that Jesus has committed a crime nor broken the Law of Moses. A test is their last refuge.

The young woman standing before the wall has been accused of adultery.

She is an outcast in the local society. Absolutely no man or woman will stand and come to her defense. Her guilt is assumed. Her fate is sealed.

The men in the crowd grasp their stones, eager to throw. The disciples and Mary Magdalene stand to one side, with Mary holding the condemned woman's sobbing infant daughter. The Pharisees lord over the proceedings, eager to spring their trap.

Jesus, meanwhile, scribbles in the dirt.

Simon the Pharisee steps before the crowd. He is grandstanding, making a very public point. So when he speaks, it is not to the terrified woman standing behind him. His focus is on Jesus, always Jesus, even as the man from Nazareth continues on dragging his forefinger through the dust.

"Teacher," he says to Jesus, "this woman was caught in the act of adultery.

In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone this woman. Now what do you say?" He is using the question as trap, looking for a basis to accuse him.

Jesus ignores Simon.

The disciples cry out to Jesus: "Please, say something to help her."

Then, to the shock of all who watch, Jesus reaches down and selects a fine throwing stone from the pile. Mary's face shows utter bewilderment, and there is a mild gasp from those who are gathered. Jesus walks over and lines up next to the Pharisees, each of whom now hold a stone, facing the condemned woman.

Now the Pharisees and each of the men so eager to draw blood see the words Jesus has written: JUDGE NOT, LEST YOU BE JUDGED.

As they stare at the words, letting them rest upon their hearts, Jesus strolls back and forth in front of the throwing line. He holds his rock up in his hand for all to see as he scrutinizes the rocks held by the others. "Let the man who is without sin throw the first stone." Jesus offers his rock to each man, even as his eyes challenge them all with the utter certainty that they have all sinned.

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Even the Pharisees cannot look Jesus in the eye.

Jesus walks over to the woman. His back is to the throwing line, leaving him vulnerable to attack. Just one angry throw could end his life. "Have they thrown anything?" Jesus asks the woman, his voice thick with mercy and grace. Behind he hears the dull thuds of rocks hitting the earth. But the rocks are being dropped, not thrown. All the men turn silently and walks quickly to their homes as their own sins--theft, adultery, and much more--nag at their consciences.

"Go," Jesus tells the woman. "Go and sin no more."

She doesn't need to be told twice. Breaking past him in a second, she grabs her baby from Mary's arms and runs quickly into the distance.

Simon the Pharisee looks angrily at Jesus. But there is no stone in his hand.

"I desire mercy," Jesus explains to him with his palms upraised, "not



sacrifice."

But Simon is not done with him. Jesus has saved a sinner, but the chances of his reconciling his differences with the Pharisees recede with every sinner that he saves. Unless they do, however, Jesus is sure to come out the loser.

The Pharisees are politically connected and powerful. One day they will set a trap for Jesus that he won't escape.

The Pharisees now focus on ensnaring him in a debate about the

scriptures--theological ambush. Two things the Pharisees don't realize: their trap could catch either side; and as a devout Jew, Jesus knows scripture better than anyone. The Pharisees now begin to follow Jesus, watching his every move. They even invite him to break bread with them, on the pretense that both sides can talk and get to know one another better.

Jesus and two of his disciples dine with the Pharisees inside a small room at Simon's home. Jesus sits by the door, listening as Simon expounds on his latest religious theories. On the other side of the table sit a small group of Pharisees. Their faces are a study in rapt attention as they give Simon their complete respect.

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Mary Magdalene slips quietly into the room, doing her best to be

unobtrusive. The last thing she wants to do is interrupt Simon or to become the center of attention. But that's precisely what she does, for Mary is not alone. She leads a young woman, who is a sinner, into the room. The woman carries a small stone jar. Its contents are a gift for Jesus, and her eyes instantly seek him out in the soft light of the room.

When Simon sees the woman with Mary, he thunders, "You have no business here! Go and offer your body elsewhere!"

Utterly humiliated, the woman moves toward the door. She desperately wants to leave. Her shame is complete. But before she can leave, Jesus reaches out a hand and gently touches her arm. She stops. "Please," Jesus tells her. "Do what you have come here to do."

The words of Jesus give her courage to endure the torment of social scorn.

What she planned to do won't take long. She will get it done and then hurry off. Kneeling in front of Jesus, she removes his sandals. A tear falls onto his bare, dirty feet. She uncovers her long dark hair and wipes her tear away



with it. Then, hands shaking, she reaches for the small jar and unstops the lid. The scent of perfume, fragrant and delicate, blossoms in the air. The woman pours a few drops of the precious liquid on Jesus' feet, and rubs it in with her bare hands.

Simon can barely believe what he is seeing. His first instinct is to throw these heretics from his home, but then he realizes that this is the perfect moment to lecture Jesus on his impudence. "They say you are a prophet,"

Simon sneers. "Your friends certainly treat you like one. Well, let me tell you this: if you were a real prophet, you would never let a woman such as this touch you."

Jesus doesn't respond. He has been moved by the woman's kindness and humble servitude, and he knows that this moment means everything to her.

Simon continues: "Look at her. She's a sinner!"

Jesus gently lays his hand atop her head. "Whatever sins she has committed, she is forgiven."

Simon puffs himself up and points a long finger at Jesus. "This is my 242

house. Do you understand? And in my house what matters is God's law. We are devoted to it."

Jesus smiles at Simon and turns back to the woman. "Thank you," he says as she picks up her jar and leaves. The woman is consumed with joy and a sense of peace, but just as eager to flee from Simon and his angry tirade about her character.

"Cursed is anyone who does not uphold the law," blusters Simon, but now his words are intended for Jesus. "To this," he concludes, "all people should say, 'Amen.' "

Incense rises in a thin wisp, spreading its sickly sweet aroma slowly over the dimly lit interior of the synagogue. The congregation bow their heads in attendant worship as Simon stands before them, teaching. The Torah rests before him, and his fingers slide slowly across each line as he reads.

Simon is at peace in his synagogue. It is more than just the meeting place where he can preach to the community, but also a spiritual home. A place where he can lead his followers in devotion to the law--a gift from God. That tranquility is interrupted as Jesus and his disciples step through the door.

Simon keeps teaching, even as he carefully tracks Jesus' movement toward the congregation. The bearded carpenter seeks out a man with a withered hand, and leans close to have a word with him.

Peter, always pragmatic, moans to himself, for he knows what is coming.

"Surely," he mumbles, "he wouldn't dare. Not here. Not today."

This is the Sabbath, a time God has prescribed for rest and spiritual reflection. Absolutely no work or other exertion can take place on this holy day. Peter looks toward Simon, the Pharisee, who is staring at Jesus. The synagogue has grown silent. All teaching has stopped. All are eyes on Jesus and the man with the deformed hand.

"Today is the Sabbath," Jesus says to no one in particular, though his words are quite clearly aimed at Simon and the Pharisees. "Tell me: is 243

it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath--to save a life or to kill?"

Simon's face is beet red. His eyes bore into Jesus. "Neither," Simon says under his breath.

Jesus asks the man to stand. Slowly, the man rises. He looks uncertain and self-conscious.

"Most of you have sheep," Jesus says to the congregation. "If on your way here, you saw that one had fallen into a ditch, would you not reach down and pull it out?"

He then takes the man's hand in full view of the entire room. "Then is this man worth less than a sheep?"

The crowd gasps as the man's hand is no longer a withered claw. Instead, he is completely healed. His work done, Jesus immediately turns and heads for the door.

"How dare you!" Simon roars, grasping hold of his robe with two hands and ripping it open in full view of the congregation. The Pharisees standing nearby do the same, making it clear that they have seen something unclean and wish God's forgiveness.

Jesus doesn't see any of this. Only Peter who realizes he's been left behind and races to catch up.

Simon isn't far behind. Enraged by Jesus' behavior, he races into the street and grabs the healed man's hand. He jerks the man to a halt and then raises the new hand into the air. There is no escaping Simon's grip, particularly when other Pharisees come to gather around, so the man is soon paraded through the streets like a trophy. He is evidence to one and all that Jesus has violated the scripture.

Or worse. "This healing is the work of demons," screeches Simon.

Those standing nearby are in awe. They have known this man their whole lives. How is it possible that his hand is completely healed? This is a source of wonder, not shame.

Simon ignores their looks and pleads his case. He knows his audience.

"He's never studied the law, but he's happy to break it," adds Simon.

Despite their amazement about the healing, the crowd is now aghast.

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Simon presses on. "He recruits tax collectors and sinful women to do his bidding. He defiles God's law, and His synagogue--your synagogue."

The crowd becomes agitated and unruly. It begins to feel dangerous. Jesus is unruffled and as calm as ever. "Love your enemies," he cautions Peter.

"Love those who persecute you."

"We're just supposed to take it?" Peter asks incredulously.

Jesus, the disciples, and Mary Magdalene battle their way through the mob.

The city's streets are now in a state of unrest. Roman soldiers wade into the fracas, grabbing the Pharisees and dragging them back toward the

synagogue. The Romans are only too happy to mete out punishment with fists and clubs. Jesus goes one way, leading his followers to safety. The Pharisees go another. In the streets, it escalates into a bloody scuffle between the oppressed Jews and the Roman legionnaires. Afterward, as



tensions continues to mount, the Pharisees plot how they might kill Jesus.

Jesus has no intention of waging a battle for religious power. But as his ministry grows, he finds himself wading into a complex quagmire of political and religious movements. God, Rome, and religion are intertwined

throughout Israel, and two rival factions fight for control. Accepting only the written word of Moses as law and rejecting all other subsequent revelations, the Sadducees think of themselves as the Old Believers. The Pharisees additionally believe in the resurrection of the dead, as well as an afterlife of either heavenly rewards or eternal damnation, taking the Mosaic tradition and the remainder of the Torah as their authoritative text. Politically the Sadducees are a stronger, more powerful force. They represent the priestly aristocracy and the power structure of Israel. Their religious duties are focused on the Temple. The Pharisees represent the common man. The Sadducees view worship in the Temple as the main focus of the law.

The most powerfully religious in Israel make up the Sanhedrin. This council is the supreme court for all Jewish disputes, and it even has the 245

power to hand down death sentences. Despite the Sanhedrin's power, the Romans are still their masters. It is led by a high priest appointed by the Romans, and Rome can just as easily remove him. Caiaphas, the middle-aged high priest, is in the awkward position of balancing the material demands of his Roman masters with the spiritual demands of the Jewish people.

At the moment, Caiaphas is faced with an even greater dilemma. Military banners bearing the Roman eagle have been hung overnight in the great Temple. They brazenly and publicly flaunt God's ban on the use of idolatrous images in the Temple's precinct. Al Jews know this is an invasion of their sacred place.

What is Caiaphas to do? If he makes a stand against the Romans he will be stripped of his power. If he does not, his own people will see him as a puppet and a figurehead--a man who pretends to have power but lacks authority. He knows he must make a stand, and to only one man--Pontius Pilate.

Since the breakup of Israel following the death of Herod the Great, Roman prefects have governed the province of Judea. In Rome, Judea is seen as nothing more than the graveyard of ambition. Four prefects have come and gone within twenty years. Pilate is the latest to attempt to control this fractious, troubled backwater. Feeling the need to make a name for himself and stamp his authority on the region, Pilate has moved a new squadron of troops to Jerusalem. As is common practice within the Roman Empire, the arrival of a new group of soldiers also means the arrival of their unit's standard. Hence the eagle banners.

Caiaphas is afraid of Pilate, and with good reason: the new prefect is known for his tough demeanor. He has no trouble oppressing the Jewish people, for he believes the full force of Roman power is sometimes necessary to keep the peace.

But the longer Caiaphas delays his confrontation with Pilate, the more dire the situation becomes. Word of the idolatrous banners, and of the defiling of the Temple, spreads like wildfire throughout Judea. Thousands soon gather in the main square of Caesarea, Pilate's home, to protest.

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Caesarea is fifty miles from Jerusalem, on a coastal plain caressed each day by cool Mediterranean breezes. It is the hub of Rome's government in Judea, built by Herod the Great but now the home of Pontius Pilate. He can live anywhere in Israel he wants, but Pilate prefers the tranquility of Caesarea and smell of those ocean breezes to the crowded, manic pace of Jerusalem.

Pilate looks down on the mob from his marbled residence. His well-muscled chest is bare and covered in sweat. As a Roman soldier himself, Pilate knows the value of physical conditioning, and he's spent the last hour sparring with wooden practice swords. Though smaller than a war sword, they are just as heavy, and Pilate can feel the heaviness in his forearms and shoulders from the exertion.

An aide hands Pilate a tunic. Outside, the crowd's roaring and chanting is deafening, as if they have the privilege of saying and doing anything they like without punishment. Perhaps they are unaware that the Roman Empire operates through a mix of enlightened self-interest and overwhelming force.

Pilate must put an end to this. He wraps the tunic around his chest and steps into the window so that the crowd can see him. In an instant, the noise stops.

Pilate turns to his aide. "Have the men seal the square. Immediately."

"Yes, sir," says the aide, rushing off to deliver the order.



The crowd gazes up at their prefect, waiting for him to speak. But Pilate says nothing, preferring to watch the lines of soldiers assembling in the streets just off the square. A second group of soldiers is now working its way into the front of the crowd, separating the leaders of the protest from the rest.

Only then does Pilate speak: "Go home. In the name of the Emperor, I order you to go home. Leave now and no harm will come to you."

The crowd is still.

Up front, its leaders kneel.

The officer in charge of the soldiers glances up to Pilate for instruction. Pilate responds with a simple nod of his head.

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The officer draws his sword, and his men immediately do the same.

The leaders of the protest, still on their knees, pull their robes off their shoulders to expose their necks. They are willing to be beheaded.

Roman intimidation relies upon fear. The soldiers are clearly uncomfortable slaughtering these protesters. Word of this will get back to Rome, if he murders this crowd. It will reflect poorly on his job performance, for Pilate has been sent to govern the Jews, not butcher them.

He steps back from the window, knowing that today the Jews have gotten the best of him. Pilate tastes the bile of humiliation in his throat, and longs to run out into the crowd and run a sword through each of those protesters.

Even better, he should have them crucified. That's how the Romans deal with troublemakers: nail them to the cross. Maybe next time. Pilate retreats into the privacy of his home and orders the removal of all banners from the temple.

Far out in the countryside, miles from Caesarea and the Mediterranean, Jesus and his disciples clean up after their afternoon meal. They lounge next to a stream, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their faces and the tickle of fresh green grass against their bare feet. It is a wondrous day, and despite their meager possessions and the possibility of yet another run-in with the Pharisees when they get to the next town, they revel in these simple



pleasures.

Peter spies a young man approaching the group. He bears an offering of fruit. The man's clothes mark him as a city boy--too bright, too new, not rugged enough for long days in the fields or on a fishing boat.

But they have no reason to doubt his sincerity, so Matthew gratefully accepts the fruit and leads the young man to Jesus.

"I'd like to learn from you," the young man stammers. "To follow you, if you will let me. And to serve in any way that I can."

Jesus has already shouldered his bag and is beginning to move on down the road. But he invites the young man to walk with him.

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Peter eyes the man with suspicion. "We went through all sorts of trials to become disciples," he mutters to Matthew. "Now this guy just walks in from who knows where and gets to join?"

Jesus calls Matthew, former tax collector and professional bookkeeper, to walk with him and the new disciple. With just a few words and the transfer of a money bag from Matthew's hand into those of the stranger, Jesus makes the new disciple the group treasurer.

Peter is outraged. His instinct is to rely on logic, not faith. But what Jesus has done is clearly an act of reckless and rather spontaneous faith.

"What's his name?" Peter asks Andrew.

"Judas," he answers. "Judas Iscariot."

It's dusk as Jesus and the disciples walk up a long hill that leads to the next town. Children run to greet them, but otherwise it appears that they are in for an ordinary evening. They'll find a place to sleep and get a meal. Perhaps Jesus will teach, or maybe he won't. All in all, they're just glad to be sleeping with a roof over their heads after many a night sleeping outdoors.

But as Jesus leads the way up and over the top of the hill, the apostles gasp in shock. Thousands upon thousands of people fill the valley below. They stand on the shores of a silvery sea, waiting anxiously to hear the words of Jesus.

The instant the crowds catch sight of him, they rush up the hillside, all trying to get a spot in front when Jesus begins teaching.

"Would you look at all those people?" gasps Peter.

"Yes," Jesus answers. "How are we going to feed them all?"

"Do what?"

"Feed them. It's late. I don't see any cooking fires. They must be famished,"

Jesus replies.

Judas, trying to show his practical nature, shakes the money bag, and a small handful of coins clank inside. "You'll need a bit more than this," he tells Jesus.

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Peter shoots Judas a look.

"Go out into the crowd," Jesus tells his disciples. "And bring back as much food as you can."

They come back with almost nothing: five loaves of bread and two fish.

There's not enough to feed the disciples themselves, let alone roughly five thousand. The crowd consumed the contents of their food baskets hours ago, as they waited patiently for Jesus. Now those baskets are quite empty.

Jesus seems unbothered. "Thank You, Father," he prays over the little food they have gathered. "Thank You for what You bring us."

The disciples begin to distribute the food, and the empty baskets overflow with bread and fish--so much that the crowd has seconds, and then thirds.

Peter, that practical man, is once again humbled by Jesus' greatness. As he watches the people eat, he remembers his own miraculous first meeting with Jesus, and how his boat soon groaned from the weight of all that fish.

Jesus comes to Peter and looks him in the eye. There is a loving warmth in Jesus' gaze, once again reminding Peter to let go of his practical nature to put all his trust in God.

The crowd is soon demanding more food, and clamoring to proclaim Jesus as the new King of the Jews. But he sends them away, knowing that the miracle they observed will be more than enough to fortify their faith for some time to come.

In the morning, when it comes time to sail across the sea to their next destination, Jesus is nowhere to be seen. He has told them to go to the far side without him, so that he can go alone into the mountains and pray. Led by Peter, the disciples take their boat and begin the long sail across the vast sea. The small boat is packed to the gunwales with disciples and their small bags of belongings. Peter is the man of the sea, so he commands the helm.

His eyes scan the darkening sky anxiously, for he knows a coming storm when he sees one. The wind blows hard and cold. Waves smash against the hull, forcing the small boat to pitch wildly.

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"Where are you?" Peter mutters as sea spray covers his face. His eyes scan the horizon, brows knitted into a frown. The weather is only getting worse.

The gusts have grown to gale force, making it almost impossible for Peter to look forward into the wind. He has reefed the small sail to ensure that the boat won't capsize, but that also means the boat can't be steered. The disciples row furiously, and Peter has one hand on the tiller, but it's no use: the tiny boat bobs like a cork atop the furious seas, as directionless as a sinner who doesn't know God.

"Oh, mercy," Peter moans. "Why did we leave without Jesus? He would know what to do." Lightning flashes. In the distance, he sees a solitary figure. Perhaps we're closer to land than I thought , Peter says to himself, staring into the blackness. Another bolt of lightning. And again, Peter sees a man standing straight ahead, although much closer this time. Peter squints his eyes to see what's out there and feels the wind blast his face. If this man is standing on a dock, Peter should keep a sharp eye, otherwise the boat will be smashed on the rocks.

A new bolt of lightning is followed immediately by another. Peter is blinded by the light, but forces himself to search for this mystery man. Peter gasps.

He has seen Jesus. Peter is sure of it. He tries to stand up in the boat, but it's like standing on the bare back of a bucking mule. The other disciples have seen Jesus in the darkness and also try to stand for a better look. "Sit down,"

Peter orders.

His eyes peer into the darkness for Jesus. "Teacher," he cries out, his words almost swallowed by the wind. "Talk to me!"

And just like that, he can clearly see Jesus standing atop the waves. That's right: standing on the water. Peter knows that he's not hallucinating. What other man can do such a thing? Is Jesus merely a man? Peter thinks of all the times that Jesus made mention of "my Father," as if God were truly his parent. But maybe it's all true. Could it be? In the depths of his heart, Peter finds a new kernel of faith. He tries to wrap his mind around this novel concept that Jesus is who he says he is: the Son of God. Not just a charismatic teacher. Not just a prophet. But the one and only Son of God.

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"It's a ghost," Thomas, one of the disciples, cries out in terror.

Peter stills his troubled thoughts. "Lord," he shouts, "if it is you, tell me to come to you on the water."

"Come to me, Peter."

Peter has two hands on the gunwales and vaults himself up and over the side. He is not drenched by waves or gasping for breath in the water. He is standing. A terrified smile flashes across Peter's face at the absurdity of it all.

He laughs, a great belly laugh in the middle of the all-consuming storm, and walks confidently toward Jesus, his eyes locked his teacher's. His heart swells with newfound faith, and Peter knows that he will never look upon Jesus the same way again. The Son of God , Peter thinks. I am looking into the eyes of the man who is truly the Son of God.

Suddenly, the practical side of his mind tells him it is impossible to walk on water. He looks down into the depths, and the one thing that has led him to follow Jesus all this while--his faith--suddenly disappears. Peter sinks. His robes weigh him down, and he plunges farther under the water. He keeps his mouth closed, desperate not to feel water rushing into his lungs, but his chest feels like it will explode from lack of breath. Then Peter feels Jesus pulling his hand, lifting him from the water. In an instant he is out of the waves and lying on the pitching deck, soaking wet. Peter opens his eyes to see a loving Jesus standing over him, his face filled with kindness.

"Peter," he says. "Oh, you of little faith. Why did you doubt?"

Peter is now a changed man, and he desperately wants Jesus to know it. "I



have faith, in you. You are my Lord."

Then Jesus calms the storm. He orders the wind to stop, and to the waves he says, "Be still." At his command, the wind dies down, and all is still. The disciples look at him with the same reverence Peter displayed. "Truly you are the Son of God," they say, bowing down in worship.

The sight of Jesus appearing in the middle of the storm, and then walking upon the waves, is not quickly forgotten. Upon reaching the shore, 252

the disciples sit on a hillside, watching the sun rise over the Sea of Galilee, and they cannot stop recounting their individual memories of what they saw.

Jesus has set himself apart from them once again, praying alone within sight of their camp. From their lofty perch, they can see from one side to the other of this once tempestuous inland body of water and marvel that it is now as placid as a village well. Their cooking fire is small, for there is little wood in these parts. Peter is still drenched, so he sits as close as he can to the heat in order to dry himself.

John sits beside Peter, who is obviously distraught.

"I let him down," Peter tells John. "I let you all down. I'm sorry."

"No, that was just a moment--a moment we could have never been prepared for."

"Do you think it was a test?"

"I think that this is all a journey, Peter. You can't get there in one step."

Peter laughs. "Where is 'there'?"

It's a rhetorical question, for they both know Peter is alluding to the Promised Land. John looks off to where Jesus is praying. His is a different kind of Promised Land, one not of this earth. John quietly marvels at their teacher's immense powers of concentration.

Jesus' eyes open. He looks directly at John. It's as if he's looking straight into his soul. In that instant, John is reassured. He knows that Jesus is truly the King of the Jews, sent by God to save Israel, but not from the Romans.



Rivers of blood flow through the gutters of Jerusalem. The high priest Caiaphas watches over the cleanup of this crimson tide, his face a mask of concern and his heart full of grief. Pilate has had his revenge on the Jews for their riot in Caesarea. When a new aqueduct needed funding, Pilate had requisitioned the Temple coffers. The people of Jerusalem rebelled, and this time Pilate did not turn the other cheek. Hundreds of Jews were put to the sword. Caiaphas is powerless to stop the Roman oppression.

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In his ornate palace in Caesarea, Pilate revels in his triumph. The marble floors gleam as the Mediterranean sun shines in through the large windows.

Herod built this palace, but to Pilate it's as if the place was designed with his own personal needs in mind. Far from the fanatics of Jerusalem, close to a port from which he can embark for Rome on a moment's notice, and most of all, a bastion of civility in this wretched post with its quarrelsome population.

Some days he can even pretend that he's back in Rome.

Pilate sits at his desk as a scribe brings him a stack of official documents. As he signs them, Pilate congratulates himself on how well he handled this latest Jewish rebellion. He knows his behavior will be carefully scrutinized in Rome, and he is certain he had more than enough justification for his brutal response. In his official report, he will honestly tell Emperor Tiberius his no-nonsense approach to the Judean troublemakers is working.

Pilate's signet ring comes down hard on a pool of wax, sealing his official report. If it's rebellion the Jews want, it's suppression that they'll get.

In these these harsh times, it becomes obvious to many Jews that they cannot put their faith in Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin, the Pharisees, or any others of the Jewish religious hierarchy. All eyes focus on Jesus. Some even say that he has power over life itself. He has restored sight to the blind, cured the lame, cast out demons, healed the handicapped, and raised the dead. Some say that if a person has enough faith in Jesus and his teachings, the sick can be healed, the physical body can be made whole, and life itself can be restored.

Caiaphas can't make that claim. Nor can the Pharisees. Jesus is soon put to the test, as he and his disciples walk through a village, enjoying the games played by the young children and the generally festive atmosphere of the day. A messenger comes running with a desperate plea. He tells Jesus that his friend Lazarus, who lives in a neighboring town, lies dangerously ill.



Mary, the woman who anointed Jesus' feet in the home of Simon, and her sister Martha had given up hope until they heard that Jesus was nearby.

They see this as a sign from God. They know Jesus can

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save their brother, and they ask him to come quickly and help them in their hour of need.

Jesus knows her brother Lazarus well. Yet he does nothing. Lazarus lives in a region of Judea whose people had tried to stone Jesus and the disciples.

They would risk their lives returning there. The disciples assume this risk must be on Jesus' mind, although it is not like Jesus to back down from a challenge. "Aren't we going to see Lazarus?" they ask him.

"This sickness will not end in death," Jesus tells them. "No, it is for God's glory, so that God's son may be glorified through it."

Two days pass. Finally, Jesus tells the disciples, "Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to wake him up."

The disciples are unclear of his meaning. "Lord," they tell him, "if he sleeps he will get better."

"Lazarus is dead," he says bluntly, forced to spell it out to them. "And for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. Let us go to him."

"Let us go so that we may die with him," Thomas says glumly, thinking of the Judeans' previous attempt to stone them.

Some days later, Jesus and his disciples make the short walk to Lazarus'

village. They find a town consumed in grief. "Are you coming for show?"

Mary cries at him through her tears. "You could have saved him."

Jesus says nothing as he keeps on walking toward Lazarus' home.

"We believed in you! We trusted you!" Mary sobs. "You're the healer. You could have saved him. Why didn't you come? Why? Tell me."

Martha, bereft, simply moans when she sees Jesus.

An angry crowd of mourners soon surrounds Jesus and his disciples. The mood is hostile. "Fool," says an unidentified voice in the crowd. "If you were so powerful you should have saved Lazarus from dying." The disciples stiffen.

"I am the resurrection and the life," Jesus tells Martha and Mary. "If 255

anyone believes in me, he will live, even though he dies. And whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"

"Yes, Lord. I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God who was to come into the world." Mary weeps as she speaks, and Jesus is deeply moved.

"Where have you laid him?" Jesus asks. By now Lazarus has been dead for four days.

They lead Jesus to their brother's tomb to grieve.

"Take away the stone," Jesus commands when he arrives at the tomb.

"His body will smell too bad for us to go near it," protests Martha, because it's well known that bodies begin to decompose after three days, and smell.

Horribly.

The disciples and the men of the village obey Jesus' order and roll back the stone that covers the entrance to the tomb. Word has spread throughout the village that Jesus is at the tomb, and now hundreds have gathered, curious.

"Lazarus," Jesus shouts.

Peter can't bear the tension and steps away from Jesus. To conceal his discomfort he absentmindedly grabs a long grass stalk and winds it around his hands. This time Jesus has promised too much, Peter thinks. The man has been dead four days.

Jesus with boldness yells, "Come out!"

Lazarus' sisters sob, worn out from false hope, then days of mourning. Then a uniform gasp erupts from the crowd and many fall on their faces in worship, as they stare at Lazarus, wrapped in his burial garments. His head is uncovered, and he squints as he steps into the sunlight. He is alive.

Jesus speaks again, but in a voice so loud and authoritative that it can be



heard a hundred yards away. "Whoever believes in me shall never die.

Never! "

Martha collapses in shock. Her sister Mary is shaking. John laughs, incredulous. Tears run down Peter's cheeks. "It's true," he tells Jesus. "You really are the Messiah."

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Jesus turns and strides through the throng. Hands reach out to touch him, and voices call him names like "Lord" and "the King."

Peter runs after him. John follows.

"Lord," Peter yells, "where are you going?"

"It's time, Peter," Jesus tells him.

"Time for what?"

"How long have we walked together, preaching my message?"

"Three years, Lord."

"Don't you think it's time, Peter, that we finally go to the one place that needs to hear my message more than any other?"

Peter opens his mouth in shock. He knows that Jesus is referring to a place where Rome and the Jewish high priests have total control. They are, in fact, walking straight into danger.

Jesus smiles. He stares at Peter. "That's right, Peter. We're going to Jerusalem."

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