Imaginative Reflections on Mark chapter 1-10
John the Baptist speaks to us of the promised Messiah (Mark 1:1-8)
Don't you know you are drowning, struggling for life??
You are floundering. There is nowhere to find peace, no rest for your soul.
I cannot help you, but I can promise that one who loves you is coming.
He is the one for whom we have all been waiting.
Cry out to him. Reach up to him.
Let him draw you to himself. Let him embrace you.
Let him breathe his Breath into you and give you life.
He will fill up your senses with the aroma of God.
God speaks to Jesus (Mark 1:9-11)
It was I who gazed upon you through your mother's eyes with such love.
I watched your father teaching you the feel and shape of wood.
I held you to my heart when you stood transfixed in sorrow
as men from your village were crucified,
their torched bodies lighting up the night.
When you closed your father's eyes in death,
I, the Father who loves you, was there.
It was my love you saw when you sat and watched the flowers
dancing in the Spring fields.
My tears mingled with yours as the gentle rain touched your cheek.
My heart stirred in yours when on the lonely hillside you called me "Abba",
for I was calling you and you answered so trustingly, so gently.
How could I not love you when you greeted me in the poor,
when you took your mother's bread to the lepers,
when you welcomed strangers to your home and waited upon them,
when your soul ached with pain and exulted with joy
as you murmured the psalms.
You won my heart, my Son, my beloved Son, in whom my soul delights.
A prayer to Jesus (Mark 1:12-13)
Your love gave you no choice but to live your life here where we are.
The gravity of our being draws us to grace.
But the desert journey tempts us to dig for wells where there is no water,
to plant oases that cannot stand against the sand.
We cannot rest, for God's Spirit drives us on as it drove you.
Only your light can dispel the darkness.
Only your love can warm us against the cold desert night.
You wanted to live here with us, like us, for us.
Only so could you carry us when we fall weary and disheartened.
Only so could you give us the heart to fight our doubts and journey on.
Only so could you teach us to surrender to the love that attracts us.
Many an angel came to comfort you in your time of need. It is so also for us.
Our longings are infinite, our capacity without measure.
Sing to us your song of love and at journey's end,
when desert gives way to the pastures of God
Be there with us still in God's embrace.
Andrew speaks to Jesus (Mark 1:14-20)
I needed my net till you came along. What else was there to do?
Something about your eyes
Something about the way you stopped and chatted with us
Attracted me. Sometimes our eyes met.
It was then that I knew the attraction was mutual.
My brother and I often spoke of you.
I can never forget the day you suggested that we join you.
None of us knew what that might mean except that we would be with you.
Such was your attraction that being with you seemed enough.
How right we were.
To catch fish we had to be in the right place at the right time.
With you every place was right, and every time.
Many others did what we had been doing.
They came nibbling at the bait, longing to taste what you had to offer.
And you asked us to help you draw them to the special freedom
That comes from knowing how loved we are by the God you called "Father".
How right you were.
I do not regret having responded to your call.
I will give you a "clean heart"(Psalm 51:10) (Mark 1:21-28)
I am not suggesting that their intentions are evil.
I am saying that though they claim the authority of God
What they say in God's name is wrong.
My Father asks for integrity
But integrity is not found in the scrupulous observance of human laws.
I know your heart.
I know that you go to the synagogue because you need to hear God speak.
The security which your observance seems to give you
fails to satisfy your heart.
Your heart is sad. You are weary and over-burdened.
Come to me! Listen to me and your soul will live.
God does not wish to keep you at a distance.
The Holy One wishes to embrace you as I do.
God can liberate your spirit and give you a clean heart.
The joy of serving (Mark 1:29-31)
He was a good son-in-law. Good to my daughter and very kind to me.
When my husband died, there was no question. I was to live with them.
I felt that they needed me.
Simon often had friends over after a night on the lake.
It was hard to keep the food up to them, but I loved it.
They began to speak of a man called Jesus who had moved into the district.
I wondered if I would ever have the opportunity to meet him myself.
Then, one day it happened. I heard them coming.
I knew what it would mean to Simon to give him a grand welcome.
But I couldn't move. I had come down with a sudden fever.
My daughter was off collecting water. What was I to do?
It took Jesus no time to see what was happening.
He came over to me, and gently took my hand.
To this day I do not understand what happened.
Our eyes met. At once our souls embraced.
The fire of the fever gave way before the profound heat that burned within me.
He took me by the hand and helped me to my feet.
I will never forget the joy that filled my heart as I heard their lively conversation.
How proud Simon was to have Jesus in our home.
They tell me I outdid myself, and as the laughter spilled out onto the street
I knew that the blessing of God was over us all.
I am dying, but I know he healed me (Mark 1:32-39)
When Benjamin came knocking on my door
I knew, before he spoke, that something wonderful had happened.
His eyes were clear and his heart was light.
The depression that had been hanging over him since his wife's death had lifted.
The healing happened as he listened to a man called Jesus,
a friend of Simon the fisherman.
At first I was sceptical, but then Reuben and his wife Miriam popped in.
They, too, had been healed.
I had been unable to eat for weeks and felt that I was not long for this world.
What had I to lose?
I agreed, so they carried me down past the synagogue to Simon's house.
It was quite dark when we arrived.
I lay in the street, gazing up at the stars
and listening to this stranger speak of God.
My body was no better, but a strange peace welled up within my soul.
They carried me home again, and the next day he was gone.
When he came back a few days later I arranged to be carried
to Simon's house again.
It was my soul that wanted to be near him.
I am dying. The time has come for me to go.
I no longer need to stay, for though my body is in pain, I have been healed.
I long to be in the arms of the God of whom Jesus spoke.
It feels, at last, like going home.
They cannot stop me touching him (Mark 1:40-45)
God knows what was wrong with me!
I knew in my bones that it was not leprosy, but whatever it was,
everyone was afraid.
My wife went hysterical, but they forced me to leave.
She left food for me near the cave, but could do no more.
One day I saw him speaking to a large crowd just below my cave.
I crept closer and listened. I had never heard anyone speak the way he spoke.
He spoke of life and of love. He spoke of freedom and forgiveness.
He spoke of the beauty and the blessing of God.
I had this overpowering desire to touch him.
The rest is history. I ran up to him and he did not hesitate to embrace me.
The crowd shrank back as I knew they would
but his commanding words stayed their fear.
They dared to do what he had done and rushed off to tell Rachel.
There are some who still say I should not be here with my family,
but we no longer believe them I'm moving at last (Mark 2:1-12)
I was stuck!
For years I'd been through the same routine,
The daily grind, predictable, manageable, deadly dull.
I'd heard him speak and seen the difference he'd made to people I knew.
But I did not have it in me to approach him.
I was too scared, though I didn't admit it, even to myself.
I was stuck. paralysed, unable to move.
Then one day some friends insisted on taking me to him.
I put up no resistance, a dread weight but not unwilling.
Something in me had been wanting to go to him for a long time.
But without my friends I know I would never have taken the step.
They took me as I was to him.
He looked at me. He looked into my soul.
I felt no need to hide. There was no point, but there was no need.
Something shifted, and a spring welled up from deep within me.
I had no hope of holding it back. I was moving at last.
My pent up longing flowed out to Him
and to my friends and over the anonymous crowd.
His look told me I was okay. I could go home, a changed man.
What an evening we had of it! (Mark 2:13-17)
We knew what it was like to party. But it was never like this!
We were outsiders, against the system - and that included God.
Oh yes! We knew how to enjoy ourselves. But our heart wasn't in it.
We couldn't fool ourselves, though, God knows, we tried hard enough.
Then He dropped in with a few friends. I tell you: It was never like this!
In some ways he was like a child - no mask, no pretence.
And you could see that he wanted to be there.
We ate, laughed and told stories. But it was never like this!
On many a long night after he'd gone we talked about that party.
The difference was that he'd met our souls and freed them.
Oh there were some who wanted to keep us out. But it was too late for that.
He was in where it mattered and we were there with him. It was never like this!
When he sang, he sang of God, and our souls sang with him.
Life as a celebration of love (Mark 2:18-22)
My parents were pious people.
We grew up conscious of the presence of God in our lives.
We felt rather special as we fasted twice a week
And carefully followed the other traditions which they taught us so gently.
It was his gentleness that first attracted us
And the presence of God that filled us when we were close to him.
One day he said to me: "Why are you fasting?"
I didn't really have an answer. We'd always done it and it seemed right.
It was not that he had anything against it. He fasted himself on occasion.
But there was a difference. He was free about it all.
His question made me look again at a practice I had taken for granted.
He was free because there was something he knew that I didn't.
He spoke of God as a Lover and of life as a celebration of love.
More important than fasting was the spring of life
that welled up in us from God.
Only when we learned to take up the joyful dance of creation
could we truly fast.
"Fast if you will", he said. "But do not let your hearts be sad.
God prefers love to sacrifice".
"You shall take delight in the Lord"(Isaiah 58:14) : Mark 2:23-28)
It was great to have one day in the week
when they couldn't work us to the bone.
I come from a family whose land had been swallowed up
by some friends of Herod.
All we had was our labour to sell, and we barely made enough to live.
We worked long hours and if the Sabbath laws were not so strict
we would never have had a break.
Thank God for the Sabbath. I enjoyed the synagogue,
and the quiet day at home with the family.
I'm not sure why, but we weren't supposed to walk any distance.
It would have been nice to go off into the hills or walk by the lake.
But beggars can't be choosers.
Then he came into our life. I've never met a man so free.
There is no doubting his prayer or his love of tradition.
We accepted him as a prophet.
When it came to walking and preparing food and hospitality,
there were no holes barred.
We couldn't understand how he got away with it.
And in the end I don't suppose he did.
But there was no way they were going to bind him with their petty observances.
That's what I grew to love about him. He never lost perspective.
God was God. God's will was that we all live a good life.
And for us poor, Jesus knew that included having a time
of relaxation and enjoyment.
When he was not around we were pretty nervous.
It isn't easy to break free of the habits of a lifetime.
When we were with him, we felt strong enough to resist the pressure exerted by the Pharisees.
We came to see that their insistence had little to do with God.
They were securing their own place in the power game over which we had no control.
Well we did have some control. We could withdraw our compliance.
He taught us that.
The Sabbath was given us by God, he said.
It was not meant to be yet another burden.
Mark 3:1-6
"Loose the bonds of injustice, undo the thongs of the yoke,
let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke"(Isaiah 58:6).
Our hands were tied. There were so many things we couldn't do.
Our hearts went out to the lepers, but we weren't allowed to touch them.
We had friends who had been squeezed off the land.
They'd made mistakes. Who doesn't?
But they couldn't afford what was needed to set things right.
It all made belonging pretty precarious.
I was lucky, I suppose. At any rate I was still able to attend the synagogue.
But, as I say, my hands were tied.
The system that educated me was also stymieing me.
Then one day he came to our synagogue.
With no By your leave he stood up and called me to step forward.
I suppose he saw my dissatisfaction.
Then he turned to the important people. In a way he turned on them.
He was obviously sick and tired of having God used to perpetuate privilege.
He wanted the outsiders to be welcomed into the community,
especially when it was at prayer.
And he wanted us to go out and embrace them.
He wanted to free our hands to work for God's kingdom.
To do so he was determined to break every yoke that bound us
Especially the yokes placed on us in God's name.
They knew what he was about. He had publicly flouted their authority.
And they were determined now to get rid of him.
As you would expect it would all be done in God's name.
Mark 4:35-41
Why did I have to leave and go over to the other side?
It was hard enough where I was, among familiar things.
I feared the sea and where it might lead me. I still do.
I only said Yes because he was going and I wanted to be with him.
He said it wouldn't be easy and he was right.
If something could go wrong, it did. We were stretched to the limit.
Every dark power seemed to hurl itself against us.
If he had not intervened I am sure we would have gone under.
I was terrified. I cried out. No answer. I was upset and angry.
He promised he would be with me. Why did I feel so abandoned?
I don't need a silent God who sleeps while I battle to survive!
It seemed to me I had every right to wonder if he really cared.
I was on the edge of despair, my heart exploding inside me.
In my desperation all I could do was keep on calling for help.
Then, just as I was nearing exhaustion,
There came, as by a miracle, an amazing stillness.
The journey was no easier and we still had to row with all our skill.
But I knew that whatever might seek to destroy me,
It was powerless to take away my life while he was with me.
I learned to surrender in trust and to believe in his love.
To live is to love. He taught me that. Whatever the journey,
Nothing and no one can stop me loving. There is no need to be afraid.
I was wrong to doubt his love. I was wrong to put him to the test.
But he understood my fear and he heard my cry.
Together, we completed the crossing.
Mark 5:1-20
I felt sick. My mind out of control.
My imagination filling me with fears.
My heart had exploded inside me and I was falling,
Falling in a void where nothing made sense.
I tried at first to do familiar things, one step and then the next.
I needed sleep but could find no rest.
I needed food, but everything was bitter.
I needed love, but no one could find a way to me.
Then I cracked and fell apart.
They tried to bind me, but I would not be bound.
I hurt my body to ease my inner pain.
Night and day I wandered, howling among the tombs.
Then I saw Him. His eyes pierced my soul and he was not afraid.
I saw love there, and understanding,
and a welcome I never thought to feel again.
He stood there, silently, his arms open to embrace me.
I was afraid. I wanted to run away.
I had come to distrust my heart. If I was wrong now,
there was only final darkness.
In a last desperate act of what I now know was courage
I surrendered and let my heart lead me to him.
I begged him to go, fearing he might obey me, but he stayed.
For a long time I had been afraid to cry, fearing the final dissolution.
But with him I could weep. I knew he knew.
His silent love pierced my heart as he held me
and a new peace flooded my soul. At long last, I was at home.
The others came. My peace terrified them for it made no sense.
They turned on him and told him to leave.
He would not impose himself and with a sad heart he left.
I asked to go with him, afraid to stay behind.
He turned to me, his pure eyes piercing my soul.
I will never forget that look.
With no words, he was telling me that I was free.
Free of their judgments, free of the need for their approval. Free to live again.
All the while they were trying to bind me, it was they who were fettered.
Too busy to love, they never really saw him.
Gently he asked me to go back and love them.
Somehow I knew he was right. I was free to let him go and myself to stay.
Mark 5:21-24, 35-43
For a while I kept struggling to be free.
But then the little child within me stopped crying.
It was no use. No one understood.
God was too late in coming. The child died.
A small few tried to reach me, to no end.
They meant well, but when they knocked I was never there.
I did not want to hurt them, but then I could not pretend.
There was nothing I could do. My real self had died.
Then he came. He took me by the hand.
His gentle words found a way through into my inner emptiness.
He knew me. I heard him call my name.
The little child inside me leapt for joy. I lived again.
Mark 5:25-34
He would not want to see me!
And I was too ashamed to approach him, my dark secret locked away.
Could I touch him without his knowing?
Could I touch his cloak and slip away unnoticed? I had to try.
Trembling, I edged my way through the crowd.
Suddenly he was passing by. It was now or never.
I reached out and managed to touch the hem of his garment.
A burning sensation passed through my body and I knew I was healed.
I was turning to go when he stopped and looked towards me.
Something in me knew that he wanted to speak with me.
Was it possible? Shame and confusion, joy and gratitude flooded my heart.
I could not resist the force that drew me to him.
I knew he would not shame me, and when he smiled
Another fire, this time of love, purged my soul.
In that moment I found peace. He knew me and he loved me.
There is no need to be ashamed.
In peace without fear (Marie Fallon, 1923-1971)
He is my centre of gravity,
In Him I live, move, and have my being.
There in deep darkness,
In silent peace,
In beauty resplendent with vision that cannot see,
There I know God.
There I come forth from Him...
In love that is also knowledge,
Tiny facet of His own love and knowledge of Himself.
He knows me!
He loves me!
I rest in His embrace.
I come forth from Him instant by instant –
He creates me – minute by minute anew.
In Him I live and move,
In Him I have my being.
No need to prove to self – to others –
What I am – what I can do.
Enough to be for him.
Enough to do for Him.
For He knows – He loves.
Coming forth from Him
I return to Him
In His own love, toward Himself.
There in deep darkness
In silent peace,
In beauty resplendent with vision that cannot see,
There I know God –
There I know myself.
My God – You are my Reality!
In You I can be myself
In peace – Without fear – In joy –
For I am beautiful – with Your Beauty,
And I live in Your embrace.
Mark 6:6-13
I wanted to go for I saw myself in so many of the people I met.
I saw myself, lost, blind, deaf, paralysed
And I wanted them to come to know him.
I wanted them to experience his love.
He saw something in me that I was unable to see on my own.
Even those who loved me were too hurt themselves to see it.
It was only when I met Him that I began to be at home with myself
That I knew that I belonged in the world. Only then did I start to hope.
When he asked me to go, He said I would never be alone.
There would always be the two of us, toegether.
That gave me the courage I needed
For I knew that going did not mean leaving him.
It was a journey like no other.
I had nothing to spare and nothing to fall back on.
I had no insurance and no resources that I could call my own.
But I could lean on him, sure of his support.
I was on a journey of grace and God's grace is always a surprise
It comes moment by moment, always present
But never able to be possessed or stored.
I had only to trust and every morning it would be renewed.
If it was words that people needed
It had to be his words that emerged from my heart.
If it was healing, it had to be his healing.
If love - and it was always love - only the love from his heart would do.
Walking with my companion, I often found myself in the dark
But it threatened to close in on me only when I forgot
That I was walking by his light.
He sent me, and He would never abandon me.
So often the darkness gave way to light.
The blind saw, the deaf heard and the poor lept for joy.
So often people's hearts and minds were healed
At times even their bodies experienced his healing power.
But the greatest grace of all was the love that flowed
When souls opened and surrendered to him.
I knew the heat of summer and the cold winter nights.
But everywhere there were flowers opening to the sun.
Mark 6:33-44
My basket is generally empty, or nearly so.
Certainly there is never enough in it to meet their need.
Life has taught me something. I suppose you could say
I have scraps of wisdom.
But what is the good of that?
For everything said there is so much left unsaid.
I often think that if I had any sense I would say nothing.
But that can't be the way to go.
I need your wisdom and you need mine. Why shouldn't we share?
We need patience, stacks of it.
A child falls many times before standing steady.
Why should adults be so different?
Life is unexpected and often confusing.
Who's surprised that we make mistakes?
Who's surprised that we are slow to learn?
We need people to wait for us, and we need their forgiveness.
I can wait, but not for long. I can forgive but not always readily.
Then there's love. Everyone needs so much of it.
I have so little, how can I give it to those who ask?
Everyone is so hungry.
What am doing here walking around with a near empty basket?
There is an answer and it comes from him.
He bids me take my basket and my few resources
Take them to him and place them in his hands.
He will cherish them. He will pray over them. After all, they are his.
Then go, humbly and with joy, and share them.
When I run out, go back and let him replenish them.
I'll never have enough and I'll keep running out.
But he promises to keep renewing me and through me those I love.
The miracle is that it works.
We each have in our hands all we need to do God's will.
We each have in our hearts all the love we now need to offer to others.
We have enough and to spare for the moment, and the moment is all we have.
He is our wisdom and our patience and our love.
If he graces me with some, let me thank him and share it.
We are all reflections of his being.
We belong to him and to each other. We are meant to be in love.
Mark 6:45-53 - Andrew remembers
Boats were my business. I grew up in them and I loved them.
It was not so much the fishing. It was the sea and its many moods.
It was the light reflected on the water and the long periods of silent waiting
The early mornings and light the colour of the desert washing in from the East.
I left it all to be with him and had few regrets.
Most of my time now was spent on land, though we did make the odd crossing.
When he was with us not even the sudden storms seemed a problem.
Being with him gave a new meaning to whatever we did.
Then one evening he asked us to head off on our own.
He said he wanted to pray and needed to be alone.
We were heading for Bethsaida, my home town,
So the unease I was feeling had more to do with his not being with us.
Bethsaida lies just to the east of where the Jordan enters the lake.
The wind from the mountains to the north found a natural tunnel
in the Jordan valley.
It could come up very suddenly as it did that night.
We battled it all night long and made absolutely no headway.
I still don't know how to explain it. We were all exhausted.
I was scanning the eastern sky hoping for an end to the darkness
When Simon, my brother gave a shout.
He had been looking back to the western shore where we had left Jesus.
He pointed into the darkness and there, walking on the sea, was Jesus.
At least that is how it seemed to us.
Initial astonishment and fear quickly gave way to a profound peace.
My mind went to our ancestors who crossed the Red Sea
and how God was with them.
This same liberator God was in Jesus. We knew that.
He had sent us off on our own
and it took us a whole night of rowing and getting nowhere
To come to the realisation that we couldn't do it on our own -
Not the kind of journeying he wanted for us. For that, we needed him.
We came to see that, though it seemed that we were alone,
he was in fact with us.
Our ancestors made it through the sea. We could do the same by his power.
Because of this strange vision, we decided to pull back in to the shore.
We landed quite near the spot where we had left Jesus the evening before.
I remember nothing was said. At that stage we had no understanding
of what the vision meant.
We still had so much to learn. But we often went back to it after his death.
It helped me through many a dark night.
I can still see him telling me not to be afraid.
It is many years since he asked me to leave fishing.
He is still journeying with me.
The Syrophoenician woman : Mark 7:24-30
I am a Maronite Catholic from a Christian village in southern Lebanon.
When my father died I was given charge of an ancient Greek scroll
that has been handed down in the family since we became Christian
in the first century.
It was written by my ancestor Joseph about his mother.
‘My name is Joseph. My mother is known since her baptism as Mary.
As a girl she suffered from a terrible mental illness.
One day my grandmother, Demeter, heard that a Jewish miracle worker
had been seen in the town.
Grandmother knew she would not be welcomed by a Jew
so she walked in unannounced and asked him to cure her daughter.
To her surprise he listened, but then he told her that he was concerned
for Jews not Gentiles.
He spoke as a typical Jew, referring to Jews as children
and to Gentiles as ‘little dogs’.
But while his lips uttered the standard racist slur, there was a difference.
Something in his eyes and in the tone of his voice made her think
that he was probing.
It was on the tip of her tongue to respond with a slur about circumcision.
That always worked.
His words, however, struck deep and she knew
that she would bear even humiliation
if it would help her daughter.
My grandmother was a witty lady. He had spoken of children and little dogs.
She reminded him that little dogs do eat the little crumbs
that fall from the table of little children.
She loved to tell how his eyes sparkled and he roared with laughter
and conceded defeat.
She wasn’t expecting this and found it quite amazing from a man,
let alone a Jew.
A beautiful warmth came out from him and he promised her
that her daughter would be all right.
She ran home to find my mother well and looking absolutely radiant.
Some years later a Jew named Bartholomew came to town
with his companion Matthew.
When they spoke of Jesus most of the people ignored them
or made fun of them.
Racist jokes abounded, but not when my mother was around.
She was one of the first to join them and she helped others follow her example.
Tyre is a cosmopolitan city. Soon people of every race and nation
were meeting together in prayer.
So I grew up as part of the Christian community
in which everyone was welcome.
Whenever we have difficulties understanding each other
or living together the story of my grandmother and Jesus
is told with much good humoured laughter.
The two of them managed to turn a racist slur on its head.
We are learning that we can love each other from the heart
with all our differences.’
Unable to hear and nothing to say : Mark 7:31-37
Somewhere in my heart I felt a deep attraction to him,
but try as I would his words left me confused.
I felt like a piece of clay, hardened against the rain,
my mind dull and unreceptive.
I watched as others responded to him and felt isolated and left-out.
He was too far above me, too innocent, too pure.
I felt unworthy of his love, quite unable to live as he was encouraging us to live.
With a heavy heart I came to the conclusion that I had nothing to offer.
I was tired of always being on the receiving end of other people’s kindnesses.
Friends kept trying to get me to go and speak with him.
One day when I was with them he happened to pass by.
They went over to him. I held back, embarrassed and shy.
I sat apart looking at the snow on the peaks of Mount Hermon.
I became aware of someone approaching from behind.
Turning around I saw that it was Jesus.
My friends had gone off and we were alone.
He asked if he could sit beside me. I could hardly say No.
We chatted into the afternoon.
It was not so much his words as the gentleness of his manner
that calmed my spirit.
As I responded to his questions I felt something melting inside me
I could hear as for the first time what he was saying
and found myself speaking thoughts I never knew I had.
Love can make the deaf hear and the dumb speak.
O Word, who spoke through Jesus, insist!
Speak words of love! Do not desist
because I am reluctant to wait, to trust
that you know when I'm ready. Thrust
your naked spear.
Penetrate my ear
so that my hard heart cannot resist.
I long to see your face : Mark 8:22-26
Even the horizon is cluttered.
So many shapes, so much movement, surfeit of seeing.
I long to see. I long to see what my heart has long envisaged.
To see God. To see love. To see the truth unveiled and beauty resplendent.
There have been times when I have felt his touch.
Even times when I thought my longing had been realised.
Glimpses of truth have been mine, momentary, but real.
What joy then filled my soul.
But clouds sweep in and I am lost in the mist.
I miss my footing and slip and cannot find the ridge again.
Distractions blur my sight. My heart, my spirit sleeps in the rut of routine.
I grow tired and listless, frightened to open my eyes.
Keep on touching me, Jesus, my brother and friend,
For I long to see your face.
Stay with me as I journey; especially when I fall.
My heart knows you are there, calling me beyond the dark horizon.
Caesarea Philippi : Mark 8:29
When I was a small boy my grandfather told me of the promised Messiah.
It had been six hundred years since there was a king on the throne of Judah,
but this seemed only to strengthen grandfather’s faith.
We used to love hearing from him the account of David’s campaigns,
and chanting the psalms that assured us that God would keep his promise.
Grandfather was quite sure that the Messiah would rid the country
of the Romans, and establish the reign of God throughout the whole of
David’s ancient kingdom.
The first time I met Jesus was in the synagogue.
He spoke so beautifully that I was determined to get to know him better.
One day he invited me with my friend Andrew to spent a few hours
with him where he was living.
I must say, it never occurred to me to think of him as the Messiah.
He was too ordinary himself and his concerns were for the poor
and the outcasts.
The more I listened to him and got to know him
the more I was drawn to him - as were a number of my companions.
I’ll never forget the day we decided to leave our fishing
and throw in our lot with him.
We were there when he embraced the leper.
We watched him welcoming strangers and saw the healing power
of his simple love.
At first we were stunned that a number of our religious leaders
were determined to destroy him.
They claimed to be upholding the Torah and tradition.
but we could tell that they were jealous of the following
he had among the ordinary people.
His own family were embarrassed by him and we were at Nazareth
when the mob turned on him.
He had an attractive calm about him, whether we were caught in a storm
or were being attacked by a deranged crowd on the other side of the lake.
His prayer was very moving. He seemed to know God.
Forgiveness came second nature to him.
He was always trying to free us from the fear we had picked up
from our other teachers.
He was very demanding, but always supporting and his peace was catching.
The ordinary folk obviously enjoyed being near him.
One day we set out from the lake for Caesarea Philippi.
About half way we camped for the night
and he engaged us in deep conversation.
He wanted to know what we thought about him.
We told him the rumours that were doing the rounds.
I remember John speaking to him with special affection.
It was one of the most moving nights we’d spent,
but I couldn’t help feeling that in the midst of it all Jesus was very alone.
We got up early next morning and reached Caesarea by early evening.
My mind was on other things when suddenly Peter broke the silence:
‘You are the Messiah’.
As so often, Peter found words for what we were all half-thinking.
‘You’, Peter said, ‘You are the Messiah!’
We all knew immediately that he was right.
We’d all been looking for the Messiah in the wrong direction.
Jesus was anointed with the Holy Spirit in a way that went far beyond
the dreams of my grandfather.
He filled our senses with God. He filled our hearts with God. He filled our souls with God.
We still had a lot to learn,
for we had no idea of how far his enemies would go to destroy him
and his influence.
We had no idea of how his love would be tested.
We could not have imagined how radiantly beautiful he would be
hanging on a cross.
We still had a lot to learn, but Peter’s words that day
were a turning point for us.
We had already fallen in love with him as a person.
Now it was as a Jew that we embraced him.
We vowed, once again, to follow him whatever the cost. I have no regrets.
Mark 9:2-8 - The Transfiguration
As I watched him at prayer, that day on the mountain,
I felt myself being gently drawn into prayer with him,
a fusion of mind and heart and feeling.
I was with him in love.
He has always attracted me, but that day
I felt I knew him from the inside, as it were.
I saw him absorbed in God and drawing on that mysterious communion,
and somehow I was in there with him.
It was the exact opposite of feeling alone.
I felt I belonged - to him, to God, and so to everything.
I felt part of everything and everything belonged to me.
There was only love.
I have no idea how long the experience lasted.
It was my first taste of eternity - that space where there is only being-in-love.
But then, as it must, time reasserted itself.
He picked up the picnic basket and began folding the blanket.
It was time to go. Time to re-enter
the everyday world of tentative hopes and fragile promises,
of passing joys and chronic pain.
Time to get on with what we too easily dub the real world.
I knew it had to be so, but you will understand
my wanting to stay there with him on the mountain.
No use. He was going down. There was no point in staying there without him.
He had to go on and I had to be with him.
Saint Augustine
‘Come down, Peter. You wanted to rest on the mountain. Come down, preach the word, be urgent in season and out of season, convince, rebuke and exhort, be unfailing in patience and in teaching. Labour, sweat, suffer torments, so that you might possess what is signified in the shining garments of the Lord –the brilliance and beauty of good work in charity. For we heard it said in praise of charity when the apostle was read: It seeks not its own. It seeks not its own because it gives away what it possesses … This peter did not yet understand when he wanted to live on the mountain with Christ. The Lord has reserved this for you, Peter, after your death. But now he himself says: Come down, labour on earth, serve on earth, be despised, be crucified on earth. The life came down that he might be slain; the bread came down that he might hunger; the way came down that he might grow weary on the way; the fount came down that he might thirst. And do you refuse to labour? Seek not your own. Have charity. Preach the truth. Eternity will come for you.’ (Sermon 78.3,6).
Mark 9:14-29 - Help my unbelief
He will still a baby when he experienced his first epileptic seizure.
We were learning to manage this quite well, when, at 9 or 10,
he first told me of the voices.
I took little notice, for he had always had a colourful fantasy life,
talking to himself hour after hour as he played alone.
His mother had died giving birth to his little sister.
I had tried to make it up to him, but there are limits to what a man can do.
When he turned 14, things took a turn for the worst.
The voices became more insistent and he felt impelled to obey them.
I couldn’t be with him all the time, and when I was out working,
the dread of what I might find on my return never left me.
It was terrible watching him suffer
and seeing him becoming more and more depressed and frightened.
One day some friends told me of a miracle-worker called Jesus.
He was in the district with his disciples. I was desperate
and willing to try anything.
I caught up with his disciples, but unfortunately
he was not with them at the time.
They were kind enough but no more use than anyone else
who had tried to help.
It was then that we saw Jesus coming.
I went straight over to him and told him of my boy. He asked to see him.
Whether it was the excitement, or anxiety, or what it was,
he had a fit there and then, ‘fell on the ground and rolled about,
foaming at the mouth’.
But this time there was a difference. His eyes were fixed on Jesus.
There was a gentleness in them and a hope.
I turned to look at Jesus. His eyes were filled with tears, and love.
My own heart exploded and I pleaded with him to heal my boy.
He knelt down and held him. The fit passed. We thanked him and left.
Since that day, things have not changed much,
but in another sense nothing is the same.
Something profound had passed between Jesus and my boy.
He knows a love that I was never able to give him, and it is enough.
He still has fits periodically, but we are managing much better.
The voices, too, are still there, but he is no longer afraid of them.
He has learned to listen to them, but discerningly.
We have both learned to love and to trust what comes. This is the miracle.
Mark 10:17-31
I am an old man now, and can’t have long to live.
They assured me that it is never too late
and the genuineness of their welcome has been wonderful,
but I still regret the wasted years.
I have just given away the orchards and farmland
to the men who have been managing them for years.
Other possessions I have sold and given to the community
for the care of the poor. I should have done it years ago.
I was a much younger man then, and Jesus was still alive.
I found myself being drawn to listen to him and to be near him.
There was a special kind of friendship among his disciples.
This, too, attracted me. I wanted what I saw they had.
So I went up to him, hoping he might ask me to join.
I saw the love in his eyes as he reached out to welcome me,
but I was totally unprepared for his words.
He told me I’d have to get rid of my possessions
and give what I had to the poor.
I really wanted to be with him.
I wanted to enjoy the love he shared with those his companions.
I wanted to be involved with them in helping others.
I was sure my wealth would help.
When he insisted that I could come only if I got rid of it,
I was sure that he had no idea of the importance and power
that wealth gives you.
My heart was heavy. I was in a state of shock. And I walked away.
The grief I experienced that day has never left me.
I have wasted the last thirty years managing my possessions.
Why didn’t I listen?
I was under the illusion that I could buy the love I was seeking
but those attracted by my possessions were attracted by my possessions.
Not by me.
How does a man know who he is covered in all this paraphernalia?
How do others find the real person under it all?
It is never too late, but don’t do what I did.
Why waste your life in concerns that hold no meaning?
It took me thirty years to follow his advice.
The delight in the eyes of those working my fields
was enough to make it all worthwhile.
With the proceeds from what I was unable to give away
the community is now able to look after the destitute.
Now I can enjoy the companionship of people committed to love.
It is never too late, but why waste time?
If your heart beckons you to follow him, as mine did, give in to it.
You will cry more tears perhaps, but your laughter will come from your soul.
There really is no point in gaining the whole world
if it means wasting your life. I’ve wasted a lot of mine.
Seize the day. Take in the grace.
And when he looks at you lovingly, say Yes.
Whatever you do, Say Yes.
Mark 10:32-45
I have no idea how he put up with us.
He’d already told us that we would have to learn to give ourselves
instead of seeking what pleased us all the time.
That was certainly the way he lived,
so we had, or thought we had, some idea of what he was getting at.
But it didn’t stop us fancying ourselves
as somewhat above the ordinary people around us.
After all Jesus had asked us to accompany him.
That alone made us special.
There was quite a bit of competition and jealousy among us.
One day he had a small child on his lap. That was okay.
But then he looked at us with those piercing eyes of his
and said that unless we changed our way of looking at things
and learned to be as simple and trusting as this little child
we would never even begin to share his spirit.
You would think we would have got the message,
but wanting to be someone of importance is pretty deep in us.
It was my brother John who put me up to it,
though I must say I was quite willing to go along.
We were worried that Peter was getting too much of the limelight.
We went up to Jesus and asked him to promise that we’d be in charge
when he finally introduced the new order we were all expecting.
He responded by telling us how hard things were going to be.
That was all right. We expected that.
But there was no way he was going to consider our request.
You can imagine how furious the others were when they heard about it.
Jesus was so concerned that he felt he had to bring us together
and drum his message into us.
Leadership, he said, for the umpteenth time, is about doing God’s will.
It is about laying our lives down if that was what is needed.
It is not about enjoying having others do our will.
It has taken me all my life to begin to learn that lesson.
I am sure that I still have a long way to go.
We need power, but it must be the power Jesus was filled with,
the power of God,
the power of love to attract others to the truth by the way
we love them for themselves.
If I’ve learned anything about this it is only because he loved us that way,
and did it so well.