John At Patmos

Once more I would speak of Him.

  God gave me the voice and the burning lips though not the speech.

And unworthy am I for the fuller word, yet I would summon my heart to my lips.

  Jesus loved me and I knew not why.
  And I loved Him because He quickened my spirit to heights beyond my stature, and to depths beyond my sounding.

  Love is a sacred mystery.
  To those who love, it remains forever wordless;
  But to those who do not love, it may be but a heartless jest.

  Jesus called me and my brother when we were laboring in the field.

  I was young then and only the voice of dawn had visited my ears.

  But His voice and the trumpet of His voice was the end of my labor and the beginning of my passion.

  And there was naught for me then but to walk in the sun and worship the loveliness of the hour.

  Could you conceive a majesty too kind to be majestic? And a beauty too radiant to seem beautiful?

  Could you hear in your dreams a voice shy of its own rapture?

  He called me and I followed Him.
  That evening I returned to my father's house to get my other cloak.

  And I said to my mother,"Jesus of Nazareth would have me in His company."

  And she said,"Go His way, my son, even like your brother."
  And I accompanied Him.

  His fragrance called me and commanded me, but only to release me.

  Love is a gracious host to his guests though to the unbidden his house is a mirage and a mockery.

Now you would have me explain the miracles of Jesus.
  We are all the miraculous gesture of the moment; our Lord and Master was the center of that moment.

  Yet it was not His desire that His gestures be known.
  I have heard Him say to the lame,"Rise and go home, but say not to the priest that I have made you whole.

  And Jesus mind was not with the cripple, it was rather with the strong and the upright.

  His mind sought and held other minds and His complete spirit visited other spirits.

  And in so doing His spirit changed the minds and these spirits.

  It seemed miraculous, but with the Lord and Master, it was simply like breathing the air of every day.

And now let me speak of other things.
  On a day when He and I were alone walking in a field, we were both hungry, and we came to a wild apple tree.

  There were only two apples hanging on the bough.
  And He held the trunk of the tree with His arm and shook it, and the two apples fell down.

  He picked them both up and gave one to me. The other He held in His hand.

  In my hunger, I ate the apple, and I ate it fast.
  Then I looked at Him and I saw that He still held the other apple in His hand.

  And He gave it to me saying,"Eat this also."
  And I took the apple, and in my shameless hunger, I ate it.

  And as we walked on I looked upon His face.
  But how shall I tell you what I saw?

  A night where candles burn in space.
  A dream beyond our reaching.
  A noon where all the shepherds are at peace and happy that their flocks are grazing;
 An eventide, and a stillness, and a homecoming;
 Then a sleep and a dream.
All these I saw in His face.

  He had given me the two apples. And I knew He was hungry even as I was hungry.

  But I know that in giving them to me He had been satisfied. He Himself ate of other fruit from another tree.

  I would tell you more of Him, but how shall I?
  When love becomes vast love becomes wordless.
  And when memory is overladen it seeks the silent deep.

One Of His Followers

I did not know the meaning of His discourses or His parables until He was no longer among us. Nay, I did not understand until His words took living forms before me eyes and fashioned themselves into bodies that walk in the procession of my own day.

  Let me tell you this: On a night as I sat in my house pondering, and remembering His words and His deeds that I might inscribe them in a book, three thieves entered my house. And though I knew they came to rob me of my goods, I was too mindful of what I was doing to meet them with the sword, or even to say,"What do you here?"

  But I continued writing my remembrances of the Master. And when the thieves had gone then I remembered His saying,"He who would take your cloak, let him take your other cloak also."

  And I understood.
  As I sat recording His words no man could have stopped me even were he to have carried away all my possessions.

For though I would guard my possessions and also my person, I know where lies the greater treasure.

The Man From The Desert

I was a stranger in Jerusalem. I had come to the Holy City to Behold the great temple, and to sacrifice upon the altar, for my wife had given twin sons to my tribe.

And after I had made my offering, I stood in the portico of the temple looking down upon the money-changers and those who sold doves for sacrifice and listening to the great noise in the court.

And as I stood there came of a sudden a man into the midst of the money changers and those who sold doves.

He was a man of majesty, and he came swiftly.

In his hand, He held a rope of goat's hide, and He began to overturn the tables of the money changers and to beat the peddlers of birds with the rope.

And I heard Him saying with a loud voice, "Render these birds unto the sky which is their nest."

Men and women fled from before His face, and He moved amongst them as the whirling wind moves on the sandhills.

All this came to pass in a moment, and then the court of the temple was emptied of the money changers. Only the man stood there alone, and His followers stood at a distance.

Then I  turned my face and I saw another man in the portico of the temple. And I walked towards him and said,"Sir, who is this man who stands alone, even like another temple?"

And he answered me,"This is Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet who has appeared of late in Galilee. Here in Jerusalem, all men hate Him.

And I said,"My heart was strong enough to be with His whip and yielding enough to be at His feet."

And Jesus turned towards His followers who were awaiting Him. But before He reached them, three of the temple doves flew back, and one alighted upon His left shoulder and the other two at /His feet. And He touched each one tenderly.

Then He walked on, and there were leagues in every step of His steps.

Now tell me, what power had He to attack and disperse hundreds of men and women without opposition?

I was told that they all hate Him, yet no one stood before Him on that day.

Had He plucked out the fangs of hate on His way to the Temple?

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All four gospels describe what is commonly called “the cleansing of the temple.”

 By some accounts, Jesus kicked the money changers out of the Temple as soon as he arrived in Jerusalem. When he saw them taking advantage of people’s faith in God, he exploded. It was the only time that Jesus used physical violence in the Bible.

 Jesus poured out the coins of the money changers and turned over their tables. Then he made a whip of cords and used it to chase them out, along with the sacrificial animals that they were selling. Nothing made Jesus angrier than religious hypocrisy.

 He yelled, “My house shall be called a house of prayer, but you make it a den of robbers.” It was one of many occasions when he blasted religious leaders for exploiting the poor. He talked more about money than anything else except God.

Jesus, thank you for your anger. Give me the courage to act up against injustice.

Ephraim Of Jerico

When He came again to Jericho I sought Him out and said to Him, "Master, on the morrow my son will take a wife. I beg you come to the wedding feast and do us honor, even as you honored the wedding at Cana of Galilee."

And He answered, "It is true that I was once a guest at a wedding feast, but I shall not be a guest again. I am myself now the Bridegroom."

And I said, "I entreat you, Master, come to the wedding feast of my son.

And He smiled as though He would rebuke me, and said, "Why do you entreat me? Have you not wine enough?"

And I said, "My jugs are full, Master; yet I beseech you, come to my son's wedding feast."

Then He said, "Who knows? I may come, I may surely come, if your heart is an altar in your temple."

Upon the morrow my son was married, but Jesus came not to the wedding feast. And though we had many guests, I felt that no one had come.

In very truth, I myself who welcomed the guests, was not there.

Perhaps my heart had not been an altar when I invited Him. Perhaps I desired another miracle...