My Other Eyes
After leaving Machaerus, John and I were heading towards Jerusalem, and knew of a small villa, maybe I should call it an encampment, due west on the east side of the Salt Sea. It was about five miles, and a man there ferried people across for a small sum of money, and if he’s still there it could save us about three hard days of journeying around the waters, so we took a chance. Anyway we were to meet Andrew, my brother, in Hebron in a few days, for we made this arrangement several weeks ago when we’d split up, us going southeast and him going southwest.
It was late evening when we walked up to the camp; it was still there; said our hellos’ and made preparations to leave the next morning to cross this rather large body of salty water. There were no fish or fishing in the Salt Sea, it was dead to all life that we knew of, and was the final containment of the waters of the Jordan. Mountains on the west side and desert on the east, it was just a large body of water that served no purpose except to extract salt from by damming up a lesser cove and letting the sun bake it dry, for which there was a high demand for the salt.
That night around a make-shift cook stove, the wife of the man that was to transport us cooked rolled bread with figs in the center, and gave us both a cup of fresh camels’ milk, and we talked about this and that. This small group of folks, I think they were all one family, have never heard the name, much less the story of Jesus and were very interested as we took turns telling the news. Nothing special happened that night, but I believe that each of them were intrigued with the telling of Jesus and Him being Christ, for His presence was certainly with us, maybe they were even fascinated, but the whole story was told.
The next morning, after another cup of camels’ milk, we went to the small boat that was pulled on the shore and looked as if it hadn’t been moved in weeks. The sun now barely above the hill behind us, the sky red, but very few clouds, as we climbed aboard, knowing that a storm was on the way, but all thought we could beat it before it broke loose, for the voyage was to be no longer than three or four hours. It was a fifteen mile trip, uneventful, except when the tops of the highest hill peaks before us could barely be seen, the clouds began to gather, and thunder could be heard in the distance. Not wanting to be caught in the storm, two rowed instead of just the one man, John and I took turns, for there were only two ores, but all got relief by swapping back and forth. Each man would row hard until he got tired and another would take his place, this exchange happened several times, but we made it before any of the rain fell. In fact it didn’t rain at all. Since we had about twenty-five more miles to go to reach Hebron, decided to walk a couple of hours, until the sun was hid behind the mountains, and then rest for the night. We had met no one on the trail as we walked at a slow pace; just reminiscing about all that God was doing since He’d sent forth His disciples to tell this good news of his Son, and Him alive and well, still walking upon the earth in the presence of His people.
John got to thinking about his brother James, and how God had used him in so many ways. I think John was sorely missing him, but was eased with the conversation we had about this very special friend and brother. What a horrible way to die, but James knew the restrictions that the Romans, and hierarchy of the temple, put on those that followed Jesus and His teachings, and to him, it was well worth it. So as we continued walking we rambled about James’ love for the Father and our love for James; and of course the Father also.
Near dark, one of us spotted a small cave, or rather an overhang, on the side of a precipice not more than a hundred meters off the path, and decided this was where we were to spend this night. Building a small fire, we cooked the four eggs that the ferry man had given us, and the small piece of bread, before calling it a complete day; and having the ledge to keep the dew off; it was a good trip thus far. That night as we sat relaxing, we spoke again about James, and then about Steven, and talked of some of the ideas that floated in each our heads.
Beside the fire was a bush that I kept watching, as a caterpillar had almost eaten every single leaf off of. It was a fuzzy little thing, orange with dark gray stripes, not more than two inches long, and smaller than the circumference of my little finger. It took less than three minutes for the creature to eat an entire leaf, and then move to the next, and I began to wonder. “Was man in this world as the caterpillar is?” I spoke out loud, reflecting back on my younger years, I think I was just like this soon to be insect. This creature had been eating all summer, as much as he could cram in, but not growing a smidgen, just gulping up as much as he could take in, which seemingly didn’t make any difference, except for the fertilizer piling up around the trunk of the brush. Still thinking out loud, sort of rambling on about what I see in man, in comparison to this crawly thing, and then I asked the question, expecting no reply. Is man, that is without a relationship with God, like this caterpillar, eating all or taking in all of this world, and the things therein, but going nowhere until he has built himself a cocoon, where he then becomes blind, restricted, and living as if sound to sleep? Does not every man do as I did, and walk this world with his eyes open, but see nothing; eating, drinking and have his fun, but going nowhere, until the spring of his life, when the cocoon is ruptured, the man is awakened, and comes forth as a new creature? Are we all born as larvae, an eating machine, a sort of parasite, immature in every way, but destined to become a moth or butterfly, and then as we seek the wholeness of life, become nothing, wrapped in our individual cocoon, lying dormant until the Spirit awakens in our body in a new form, and the transformation takes place; not that we determined this, but God. I know that no man can build himself, or at least to any effect, save the hand of God being upon him. But yet we struggle to achieve, finding nothing worthwhile, until each gives up on this life, laying it aside, and allowing God to do that which every man was created for. That is; a butterfly.”
John just smiled. I think he saw what I was saying.
After a few moments John spoke what was on his mind, and it was somehow along the same line. He talked in an almost whisper when his insight came out.
“Peter, I’ve known you most of my life, and I want to ask you if you’ve noticed that we disciples all acted about the same way when we were walking with Jesus? There were miracles happening often, people being healed, unclean spirits driven out, even several being raised from the dead; but did you notice that we gave more attention to the gift that was given, than to the Giver? Did you see that we gave more credence to the blessing than we did to the Blesser, more devotion to the healed, than the Healer; more to the deliverance than the Deliverer? Of course we had to walk this walk, but when that which is perfect, (which is Love), has come, then that which is in part, (which is virtually everything else), is done away with, leaving only the emptied vessel, readied only then to be filled.
I just smiled at John, we were both on the same road, and both knew that much growth had taken place in each of us; of a truth, not just us, but all the students following the Lord were growing. At this point in our lives, we now realized that growth was a major part of Life, and we were now just coming out of this cocoon, wrinkled, wet, and still not able to fully fly. So the best is yet to come, and at least we had enough maturity to understand that we were still immature, and not yet fully understanding; but growing.
The next morning John and I woke refreshed, ate a few figs, drank from the skin containing our water supply, kicked dirt over the few remaining live coals, and headed west to Hebron. Neither knew if we’d get there before Andrew, or vice-versa, but it was a pleasant morning to walk with the sun to our backs. As we traveled, both ruminated about James, him fishing, him walking with our small group with the Lord, and him allowing Gods’ power to flow thru, and the growth of so many, as he ministered in the Lord.
It was not but maybe twelve or fifteen miles of easy walking, even though in was mostly uphill, and we’d make it well before sun-down.
It was still forenoon when a large group of men and women, with their camels, goats and donkeys, crossed paths with us. Their leader, an elderly man dressed in a colorful long robe, and a turban that I had not seen before, for they were from a tribe that was not be known to me, stopped to chat a few minutes. The man’s beard was worn down to his waist, and his smile was genuine, asked where we were going, for their caravan was heading north to Jerusalem. John spoke first and told them that we too were going to Jerusalem, but had to pick up a brother named Andrew in Hebron, and then would soon leave north to be in the holy city in maybe three days. We then introduced ourselves, and they too were from a smaller tribe of the Israelites, and had heard some kind of news of a man and His disciples making waves in Judea, Samaria, Galilee and many of the other regions thereabout, and were intrigued, and wanting to know more, went searching for any remnant of His disciples.
He’d told us in a very soft expression, his head drooped down looking toward the sand; that their family, which is this large band of people, searched for the called-out-ones in hopes that they would expound to them these new oracles from God, and maybe even be given a miracle. For they too were in need of a healer, because the last four babies born in their extended family, had been born withered, each from different parents. We talked a little longer, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that they were concerned if they’d done something wrong, lost favor with God, or just maybe, this was a tribulation to bring them to this message of the Kingdom of God.
I told them about Jesus, Him being the son of God, Him crucified, and of our redemption from our sins, and He being resurrected, and the message was readily accepted. For he told us of the emptiness of their lives, their adherence to the rules of the temple, but no one or nothing cared about them or made any difference in their life, and supposing they didn’t know of any true power; but this Jesus that they’d heard about did. And they were going to Jerusalem and even farther if they had too, expecting a new revelation and maybe their babies would be healed, but as for now, they mostly wanted answers.
Standing, my face to his, I placed both hands on his shoulders, John beside him with his hands on the man’s head, we prayed.
After a short prayer, all of us still touching, I looked this bearded man in the eyes and said; “go forth to your families, your children have been healed, and the Power of the Spirit has fallen upon you, and all that are yours’.”
The man fell to the ground, worshipped God in praise, jumped as if he were a young man, and ran to the folks in his caravan to tell them the News, for the Holy Spirit had leaped in him with all vigor. As he ran toward the group, two men ran toward him, both telling the news of their babies being healed by straightening their arms and legs, and about the others two also.
We left, but could hear great rejoicing as the hill before was climbed. It was well after an hour of walking, that we could still hear the shouts of joy. We were praising also.
The sun was now over the mountains as we entered Hebron, a little later than thought, but there never-the-less. The city was busy with people going in every direction, and the streets seemed filled with six or so herds of goats, not large herds, but herds just the same. Small street-side shops of folks selling their wares and produce lined on each side of the city square, with a drinking well placed in the center. It was a nicely organized city, with the many torches that lined the street, and the people appeared pleasant.
Our first stop was to take a long cool drink from the fountain, for all we had for the last few days was the heated water in our goat skins, sufficient, but not the tastiest, being it was stored in there some three or four days ago. Just as we approached the well, I heard a familiar voice that called out; ‘Simeon’. Turning to my left, and not seventy-five feet away, and clean as a pin, was Andrew. For John and I were covered in dust, sand, and soot from our overnight fire, we were filthy, but glad to see him. We said our hellos’, asked about each other’s health, dusted our clothes, and followed Andrew to a place that he had waylaid as a temporary lodge while in wait for us. It was out of the heat of each day’s sun, now darkened, set back in an alley, therefore, much quieter than that of the main street; it was perfect for the needed rest that John and I were looking forward to. After just a few minutes of reminiscing on the high-lights of the last couple of weeks, Andrew mentioned that he was missing James with great sorrow and was saddened. Just the reference of his name brought a trickle of tears down Johns’ face, but he was okay, just missing him with compassion, and said; “it was an honor to have James as a brother, and that his presence will forever be with those that his life touched.” All of us sat silent as the camaraderie set in and ran its’ course. This was fellowship without speaking.
Some quarter hour later I mentioned that John and I were hungry, but first needed to wash the dust off, and maybe wash our clothes. Andrew knew of a man-made pond that was ditched and dammed to catch the run-off of a wet weather creek not far from the center of town, and that it would suffice to meet our needs. And after that we’d eat and resupply for our trip to Jerusalem that started in the morning.
It was good being with my brother, and it was good for the three of us, one missing, to be together and talk out concerns about the death of James, truly, he was sorely missed. The four of us spent so much time together, growing up and walking with Jesus, it was an odd feeling with one not among us.
That night, with the air warm, the street still busy, the three of us sat near the square in the middle of town and talked, catching up mostly on the things that God was doing through of lives. Each had his own stories, and each listened with intensity as it was obvious that the Lord was using all that would follow Him in the forwarding of His Kingdom, it was enjoyable.
The next morning we were up early, John and Andrew stirring some hour after I had already awakened, kinks worked out of our joints, wide awake, we headed north toward Jerusalem. It was a hard two day trip if we were to travel the mountain tops, if choosing to go the shortest route, but we opted to go west and then north through Beth Haccerem, and not having to cross all those mountains again. It was one of those beautiful days that made traveling pleasant, and having the three of us together again made it that much better. The sun was on our backs and a large valley stood before us, the birds singing, the night creatures heading back under cover, we walked to the center of the dish between the two hills before turning north. It was scattered with many flocks of sheep and goats, some going north, and some traveling south, but the shepherds were friendly, as frequently we’d stop and talk a few minutes. During a long stretch of emptiness, John started making animations out of the puffy white cloud that were sprinkled here and there, and it wasn’t long before Andrew and I both began seeing all kinds of strange things those clouds could resemble; it was fun. The land was flat and travel was easy. We’d occasionally still speak of James, but I really did think that we’d talked the biggest part of his death dealings out.
That evening, about an hour before sun-set, we decided to make camp part way up a hill, for we were nearing the town of Bethlehem, and the air a little chilly, and knew that the nights get much colder. Going up the hill would get us above the colder air that would settle in the valley, and make for a much more pleasant night. Gathering brush and what sticks we could find; made a fire and began resting for the next days’ journey. We weren’t alone, for three more camps could be seen within shouting distance of ours after dark had fallen; and the valley was speckled with the fires of the many well-traveled neighbors.
Besides a goat skin filled with water, we’d not taken much for food, just a small loaf of bread, it was enough, but we weren’t going to feast that night. But soon a man hollered toward our camp, asking to come in, a friendly guy, but also looked to be a little tired. We talked about his sheep, that still grazed in the green grass below us, and he’d talk of his family that traveled with him, he’d speak on the good times of being a herdsman, and a few of the mishaps along the way, we all enjoyed chatting with this friendly face. Maybe it was an half hour later that he’d noticed that we traveled lite, and wanted to know if the three of us would join him and his family for dinner; the answer was yes.
Goat’s milk, wonderful loaves of bread, butter churned last night, cheese, and both hind portions of a sheep that was slaughtered last evening was what he offered, and we all said among ourselves that it really never gets any better than this. He had a nice family; all were well behaved, and all wanted to ask questions about our quest, and all waited for their turn to talk, starting with the oldest first and working down the chain.
When they’d heard that we were a few of the disciples of Jesus, which they were very well versed in, the conversation changed to a different topic. The man’s sister had gotten hurt a few years back when the goat she was milking kicked the leg off the short stool she was sitting on, she then fell over, hitting her head on the corner of a stone trough. The elder man said; “although hurt, she seemingly recovered, but had severe headaches. But after about two weeks, was bed-ridden, and began having convulsions, later diagnosed as seizures, and now was completely disabled. This only happened less than a month ago. Along with being cared for constantly, she also would speak some of the most vulgar words that man or beast had ever heard, which was not like her at all, she had been a kind lady. And they were on their way to Jerusalem to find some of the called-out-ones to set her free.”
Andrew was the first to go to her tent, and seeing her lying on the bed-roll, walked over the now still and sleeping body, and John and I right behind him. Andrew turned to look at us, shrugging his shoulders, and said that something must be done, for compassion ran completely throughout the room. I then held her right arm, John the left, and Andrew lifted her head slightly, we all prayed. And in a moment, looking at where her eyes were, said; “Woman, peace be with you, rise and see the glory of God, for Jesus has delivered you from this that was stolen.” Immediately she awoke, stood and praised the Lord with all enthusiasm, being healed, but only remembering the headaches but none of the seizures.
There was great rejoicing as the three of us left their camp, going back to ours’, to prepare to enter the Holy City sometime before noon.