The Redeemer (11 page)

“One would think if a son could take care of a small matter to save His mother from embarrassment, He’d be willing to take five minutes.”

Jesus rolled His eyes, walked back, and put an arm around her.

“Take me to the wine steward.”

Mary was glowing as she told the servants to do exactly what Jesus instructed them.

“Bring two of the largest jars you have. Be sure they are filled with clean water,” Jesus said.

What Jesus told them to do was no small thing. Those jars must have held fifty gallons each. Why didn’t He allow the servants to roll over a couple of empty jars? How much harder could it have been for Him to make wine from scratch if He was going to do it anyway? Jesus bowed His head and said something I couldn’t make out. A moment later He told the wine steward to taste the wine. The steward beamed his approval.

“Now, fill the pitchers and take them to the guests.”

We were well on our way out the door again when Jesus heard one of the guests approach the host.

“You sly one, old friend. Most people would have served this good wine first before the people had drank so much. But not you; you saved the best till last.”

Mary smiled and waved good-bye, and at last we were on our way again. I learned we were going to a place He’d lived in Capernaum at one time. Along the way we encountered many people, and He always stopped to talk to them, though I did my best to hurry Him along.

“Change the way you think,” He said to them, “for the kingdom of heaven has come near you.”

They looked at Him as if they had no idea what He was talking about. Jesus must have thought the ordinary folks were as spiritually aware as He was, and so, as I’ve known His Father to do, Jesus often started speaking in the middle of a paragraph. By the time the person figured out what He was talking about, Jesus had moved on. He was never going to get His message across using that tactic. I thought I should offer a few ideas for conversation starters.

“Jesus,” I said, “Your first obstacle to success is that these people do not know what the kingdom of heaven is and therefore aren’t concerned with how near it might be. For starters, let’s drop that phrase as a greeting altogether. Try this one.

“‘Hello, I’m Jesus. Perhaps you’ve heard of Me. My Father, God, has sent Me here to make your life much better. I’ll be having a few get-togethers where I’ll explain more. Hope you can make it.’

“See? Now You try it; however, let me be clear that the success of this greeting presupposes You intend to do something to show them you’re related to God when they ask for proof.”

About the time we reached the edge of the city, a young man came running up to Jesus. He was breathing hard and quite distraught.

“Jesus,” he said. “It’s John. They’ve arrested him.”

John the Baptist? Well, I suppose I’m not all that surprised.

“Who are you?” Jesus asked.

“I’m one of John’s disciples. You’ve got to help him.”

“What are the charges?”

“John accused King Herod of adultery for stealing his brother’s wife. Herodias is embarrassed by what John said and convinced her husband to put him in prison. Can you come?”

“There is none greater than John the Baptist,” Jesus said—but He kept walking right past the young man.

“Where are You going?” The man ran after Him. “Aren’t You going to help him?” He was becoming more anxious.

“I only do what I see my Father do,” Jesus said and left him on the road, shocked and disappointed. To tell the truth, so was I. Confident He wouldn’t hear me, I voiced my opinion.

“Jesus, may I suggest a priority check? How do You justify going three days out of Your way to a wedding of people You don’t even know, stay longer than You should, then tip Your hand early about being God by making wine You weren’t supposed to make? Why can’t You take half an hour to check on Your cousin in prison?”

We continued the walk through the streets of Capernaum, and soon we were near the house, where there was already a crowd of people waiting for Him. I couldn’t help but wonder why, since He hadn’t done much of interest, until I realized the water-into-wine story had made it into town before us. Jesus greeted a few people and went in and sat down on a mat. Men, women, and kids crowded in to hear what He had to say. I sat down beside Him on a flour sack. Soon I was as captivated as the rest as He talked about God and how His kingdom was coming among the people.

I’m not sure why the rumor spread through the crowds that Jesus could heal the sick, since He never had. I suppose it could be a short jump in the human mind from making wine out of water to curing disease, humans being the great rationalizers they are. Or it may have gone with the territory once they heard He might be the Son of Man—shorthand for
Messiah
. I heard the commotion outside and slipped over to the door to see what was going on. There were four men carrying a fifth man on a stretcher.

“Let us pass,” said the first one.

“Wait your turn like everybody else,” said a short, fat man who wasn’t about to give cuts in line to anyone.

“We can’t wait. Can’t you see he’s dying?” He nodded his head at the man on the stretcher. “He can’t move at all, so let us through.”

I went over to take a closer look, and I did have to agree the patient did not look good. Then others in the crowd protested as the four men tried to push their way through.

“No, you don’t. I’ve been here all day; I’m not moving an inch.”

“If you don’t want trouble, get to the back of the line.”

“You’re not getting through, buddy, so don’t try it.”

When they realized there were too many in the crowd and they’d lose in a fight, the four turned around and carried their friend away. I went back inside and sat down by Jesus.

I was caught up again in the story Jesus was telling until a piece of the roof fell down and landed right on my tail. All at once there were pieces of ceiling, mud, and straw falling all over the place. Some of the crowd began backing up as larger and larger chunks crashed to the floor. Jesus sat there with an amazed expression. The next thing we knew, a stretcher with a man on it was being let down from the roof. I looked up through the dust and saw the same four I’d seen outside earlier. As soon as they’d lowered the stretcher right in front of Jesus, they clambered down and stood beside their friend.

“He’s sick and dying, rabbi,” said one. “Can You heal Him?”

By that time some of the priests and teachers of the Law who’d been in the back of the room pressed their way to the front to see what Jesus would do. Jesus looked at them then back at the sick man.

“Son, I forgive your sins. Get up, take up your stretcher, and go home.”

The teachers gasped. The priests huffed and puffed.

“No one but God can forgive sin,” one of them said.

“Who do You think You are?” asked another.

In the meantime, the sick man got up, stretched out his arms, bent over and touched his toes, then picked up the stretcher, thanked Jesus, and headed out the door with his friends. It was a miracle of healing, I might add, that was completely missed by the crowd, who was angry that someone had cut in line. The religious scholars who continued to argue about whether Jesus was authorized to forgive sin also missed it.

“He should have waited his turn to get healed.”

“Look at the mess they made. Who’s going to pay to have the roof fixed?”

“Jesus does not have permission to forgive sins.”

“How can you argue with results? The man was healed.”

“The end does not justify the means.”

“If not the end, what does justify the means?”

Soon more people were chiming in with their opinions, and I don’t think anyone noticed when Jesus and I left.

After the news of the healing spectacle got on the village grapevine, it wasn’t hard for Jesus to draw a crowd wherever He went. I followed Him to Nazareth, where He went into the synagogue on the Sabbath. The rabbis were immediately suspicious of Him. I must tell you that I was amused at the irony of the situation. If only any one of them could have seen what was really happening. A demon and the Son of God go to church together, and guess which one made the religious elite nervous?

Jesus stood up, a sign to the others that He intended to read.

“I love it when He does this,” I said eagerly to a young boy who didn’t seem to mind sharing his seat with me.

Jesus took a scroll written by the prophet Isaiah from the hands of one of the elders. The room was immediately quiet in anticipation of what He was about to say. He looked over the scroll until He found what He was looking for and began.

“The Spirit of the Lord is on Me, because He has anointed Me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent Me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Then He rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on Him.

“Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

If Jesus had pulled a torch from His robe and set His beard on fire, it could have had no more incendiary effect. The rabbis were horrified, the people were excited, and the chatter was ignited.

“Did you hear what He said?”

“He’s the Messiah.”

“I heard He healed a paralyzed man in Capernaum.”

“He must be the Promised One who will save Israel.”

“Wait a minute. Isn’t He Joseph’s son?”

“You’re right.”

“He’s nobody special. I’ve heard the stories. He’s the illegitimate son of Mary.”

“Who are you calling illegitimate? We know His father.”

“Joseph isn’t His father. Mary was impregnated by an angel.”

“Jesus,” a burly man called out, “if You’re telling the truth, do something here in Your hometown.”

“Yes, something like you did in Capernaum—heal somebody.”

Go ahead, Jesus, show them what You can do.

“A prophet is never accepted in his own hometown.”

“Put some action behind Your claims,” yelled a woman from the back row.

The crowd is getting ugly, Jesus. How about that man with the crooked foot? Not too showy; just enough to let them see You are who You say You are.

The more they insisted Jesus do a miracle, the more He refused. At last they started crowding in on us. Before I knew it they were pushing Jesus out the door and up a hill with a steep drop-off. We were right on the edge when Jesus abruptly turned around and walked away right through the crowd. The people stayed on the edge of the cliff arguing with each other as if they hadn’t noticed He left. Now, I walk through crowds all the time, and no one notices. But Jesus did it in a body of flesh, blood, and bones. How? I wanted to quiz Him about the physics involved, but before I could, He was off again toward Capernaum.

C
HAPTER 13

O
N THE NEXT
Sabbath Jesus made His way over to the synagogue where, as had become common, a large crowed had already assembled. There were rumors that Jesus might be coming, so everyone got there early to get a good seat. The tittering began as soon as they saw Him but then quieted as He sat down to teach. I took a seat right beside Him where I could get a good look at the crowd. Something didn’t feel right. The scales on the back of my neck were tingling, and my nose was twitching.

Does anybody smell anything?

Then I spotted him. A man possessed by an evil spirit stood up and rushed toward Jesus screaming hysterically.

“What business do you have here with us, Jesus of Nazareth? I know what You’re up to. You’re the Holy One of God, and You’ve come to destroy us! It isn’t time!”

I must tell you, it was a showstopper. The assembly scrambled to get away from the possessed man.

Jesus silenced him. “Quiet! You evil spirit, get out of him!”

The demonic spirit threw the man down on the floor and left. The crowd whispered and wondered at what happened.

“What did I just see?”

“What’s going on here? A man who orders demonic spirits to get out, and they go?”

“No man can do that.”

Perhaps I should offer a point of clarification here for someone not as knowledgeable about the spirit realm as I. The enormity of what Jesus did can be understood only in the context of what demons and spirits actually are. Humans, in my experience, do not know how to differentiate between dark forces and tend to use the terms
evil spirit
and
demon
as if they are the same thing, which in fact, they are not.

Demons are multidimensional beings that are the fallen angels that rebelled against God. Some were part of the original rebellion under Lucifer; some rebelled later, before Noah’s flood. Evil spirits, on the other hand, are single-aspect, ethereal, weaker beings that were also swept up in Lucifer’s rebellion and cast to the earth like all the rest. They survived by hiding in the dark waters that covered the earth as a result of Lucifer’s flood. When the earth vomited out the warring demons that had destroyed the planet, they—the demons— were strong enough to find refuge in the second heaven, but the spirits were not. After God re-created the earth, the spirits could no longer hide in the waters. Their fate was to wander aimlessly on the earth without a place of habitation until they could find a human body to inhabit—right alongside the human spirit.

Try to keep up. When a human is “possessed,” he or she is possessed by a demonic spirit but not by a demon per se. Demons do not desire to inhabit humans.

The Jews were well acquainted with evil spirits and the rite of exorcism, but not the way Jesus did it. That’s why the people were dumbstruck.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said the younger rabbi.

“I’ve witnessed many exorcisms in my life. Most times the exorcist does not survive,” said the elder.

“It’s a hazard of the trade. When the exorcist invites the evil spirit to leave the inhabited body to come into his own body instead, he takes a big risk.”