ALL ROADS ARE HIS

Meeting Jesus on the Common Street C. Doug Blair, 2012

Widow of Nain

She lived down the street from us. Trying to make ends meet with her baked goods and her simple stitchery. Six years the husband had been gone. That awful accident at the building site. The week of lingering and the night of the terrible storm when her childhood sweetheart breathed his last.

Their son had been twelve years old when he lost his father and the much needed male influence. In the intervening years he had few friends, no known romance and a string of short-term jobs to help his mother. It had seemed to her that a new household and laughing grandchildren were dreams incapable of fruition.

Then fever visited, and the youth with his irregular work schedules, poor

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diet and meager build proved a ready target. He came home wheezing and lasted only two days.

The neighbours, my husband included, had arranged the funeral bier, the rabbi's attendance and the simple gathering of respect for one so little known. Oh, but he was still the hope and treasure of his mother. To the rest of us women her brave silence in the procession was almost more pathetic than an open flood of grief.

At the end of the street and before turning to the place of meeting, we noticed a tall fetching man in the company of several friends. He laid his hands on the shoulders of two of his comrades and turned to us. With eyes confident, clear and piercing he faced the bereaved woman whispering, "Weep not."

Asking for no permission, he approached the body and touched the bier upon which it lay, "Young man, I say unto thee arise."

Imagine our shock when we saw the head move and the eyes register recognition, the lips a smile and some words of reassurance to his mother. Alive again! What strange power? What divine sympathy had come to bless our village, a delicate lad and one poor lonely woman?

This man, Jesus, so masterful and compassionate. The mother's dreams revived.

(Taken with some liberties from Luke 7:11-17)

Touching Jesus

I have often been impressed with the account of Jesus' tireless service to people in Luke chapters 7 and 8.

If only people could get near and touch the Master in His travels. The old Gospel chorus by John Stallings told the following:

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A woman tried many physicians,Yet grew worse, so to Jesus she came.And when the crowd tried to restrain her,She whispered these words through her pain.

Chorus:Touching Jesus is all that really matters,Then your life will never be the same.There is only one way to touch Him,Just believe when you call on His name.

We read about the woman with the issue of blood touching the hem of His garment. She was considered accursed. Untouchable. Barred from worship. Denied normal relations with her husband. Having spent all her substance on physicians.

Then there was the funeral procession in Nain with the unfortunate young man and the grieving widow mother. Jesus touched the funeral bier and the young man was restored to life.

Then there was the sinner woman who came to the Pharisee's home to anoint Jesus' feet with ointment and caresses of adoration. She got her reward of absolution.

Then there was the little twelve year old girl dying in the household of Jairus, but called back to life by the compassionate bedroom visit of the Master, as He took her by the hand.

But let me draw your attention to the incident at the beginning of chapter 7 concerning the Roman centurion with the critically ill servant. He stated that he was not worthy of personal attendance from Jesus. Simply state the word of healing as a person in authority and the servant would be healed. To the centurion it was as fundamental as words of command in the military. Speak it and it shall be done. Jesus marveled at such a grasp of faith.

Was this not a touching of Jesus? Was the Master not going to wean His disciples off His physical presence and into the arena of petition and prayer in faith? We can see in the appearances of Christ after resurrection a coming and going as if by magic. This was moving the eleven out of the realm of tactile connection and into the realm of victorious faith as His ambassadors

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and servants through the Spirit.

That too is our mandate.

Touched with Our Infirmities

What news, the Master visits,To heal the rabbi’s daughter!What news, he comes down our street,Requested by her father!

What shame, my bleeding mocks me,Through twelve years quarantined.What shame, the doctors’ failures,Heartbroken still, and unclean.

But I’ve heard that He’s healing all who simply trust him.Yes, I’ve heard that He’s granting forgiveness of all sin.Oh, I’ve heard that with such power Jehovah Rapha proves him.

What risk! I am forbiddenTo venture out in public.What risk? I know that JesusWill not have me remain sick.

What throng! He passes quickly.A few strides more; he’ll be gone! What throng! Oh man of mercy,My touching him can’t be wrong.

What joy! I seized his garment.My heart leaps like a free calf.What joy! The blight has lifted,Curse broken on my behalf.

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Lord Jesus, know that I am giving all of my love to thee.Thy great compassion knew faith’s call as virtue transferred through thee.If only others moved by faith would come and so pursue thee.

LUKE 8:48And he said unto her, Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.

Jairus, Running, Hoping

Our little girl was almost gone.The fever gripped her like a vise.The eyes attending elsewhere, wan,The fragile hands as cold as ice.

And I as useless as a child.Her mother stroking soft the brow.And something hidden, wanton, wildWas pressing, choking sweetness now.

I fled the room, a flick'ring thoughtArrested mind and sinking heart.The Nazarene whom many soughtCould he be called, and life impart?

The doors rushed by as I made haste.This rabbi now a racing steed.A father with no time to waste.Would Jesus rally to our need?

He hears my plea, yet looks so calm,And joins me in the homeward trek.Has he the skill? Has he the balm?To save our lives from total wreck?

But friends advise with words I dread,

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To trouble not the Master more.My little flower, already dead.My wife distraught upon the floor.

Yet still he comes, quite undeterred,And takes her hand, and softly sighsHer little spirit hears the word.The call of life, "Sweet maid arise."

Perfect Vision

In my mind’s eye I shall never forgetThat sabbath when Jesus healed me.Begging and lonely, I heard a kind voicePromising that I might see.

Others had talked of the cause of my plight,Was it the price of some sinning?Jesus seemed eager to set me aright;In him I’d find new beginning.

He declared that he was light to the world,As he applied a clay poultice;Sending me off to a pool to be washedFearless that rabbis might notice.

Off came the dark scales and in came the light,Who was this marvelous healer?Rabbis were fixing to give me a fight:“I must renounce this scene- stealer.”

Both of my parents were called in to sayIf I were really born blind.Each of them sadly turned from me that day,Fearful that church-folk would mind.

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“Surely a man who would break sabbath lawsWorking, albeit in mercy,Works for the devil with no righteous cause!”“How is it then that I see?”

Quickly they parceled me out of the church:“How dare you test our tradition!We hold to Moses’ law, and that alone.We strongly doubt your new vision.

Out on the street then I met a young manWho asked if I knew the Saviour.That voice! Was Jesus! I clutched at his hand,Thanking him for his great favour.

I knew that I had gained more than just sight,Trusting the Lord and his new ways.Blinder the ones who persistently fightComing to Christ in these last days!

Let them attend to their rituals at church,Chanting hymns ever so sweet.I had befriended the one Son of God ,Worshipping him in the street!

So Must Christ Suffer

Be it far from thee, LordTo considerThat the City holds nothing but pain;That the welcome this time Will be bitterAs you enter their streets once again.

Be it far from thee, Lord,This is foolish;

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All such talk of rejection and rage.Thou art Christ and our hopeFor the future.Usher in your foretold Kingdom age! (ISAIAH 11)

Be it far from thee, Lord To provoke them,Though religion is made cheap display;Though the temple is filled With their barter,Please, discreetly keep out of their way.

Be it far from thee, Lord,Look for better.Set your mind on the sceptre and throne.Quite enough talk of mockings And scourgingsAnd of us leaving you all alone.

But the Christ turned a deaf Ear to pity;Willing still to endure sin’s full load.For the hates and the hurts Of that city,He was bound to the Calvary Road.

Isaiah 116-9The wolf will romp with the lamb,the leopard sleep with the kid.Calf and lion will eat from the same trough,and a little child will tend them.Cow and bear will graze the same pasture,their calves and cubs grow up together,and the lion eat straw like the ox.The nursing child will crawl over rattlesnake dens,the toddler stick his hand down the hole of a serpent.Neither animal nor human will hurt or killon my holy mountain.The whole earth will be brimming with knowing God-Alive,a living knowledge of God ocean-deep, ocean-wide.

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10On that day, Jesse's Root will be raised high, posted as a rallying banner for the peoples. The nations will all come to him. His headquarters will be glorious. (The Message)

Sycamore

Still standing.Beside the main street.Feeling the pulseOf spring rains, The crown of summer, The testing pullOf autumn storms.Children exploreMy limbs and shelter.Adventurers pass,Out to new possibilities.Some, retracing stepsIn homeward reunion Or retreat.Presently a strange din;One stalwart man And His entourage.Onlookers press in,Curious and hopeful.What's this?Someone scrambles up,Tugs my extremities,Scrapes my bark,Settles,Balancing to watch.Much like the children.(Generations of them.)I serve their purpose.I serve his purpose.

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Giving the better view.And the Master looks up,My Maker.Issuing the call:"Zacchaeus, come down.I will come to your house."

Note: Many a witness accepts rough treatment that others might get a better and redeeming view of Jesus.

Wickedness in High Places

Is it that he comes in royal fashion?Riding on an ass as kings of old?Dusty traveler of strange compassion,Confident, this Jesus, and so bold!

Trouble brews! The young, the poor, the downcastHail now that Messiah has appeared.Is the fight to come from him at long last?Is there power in him to be feared?

Temple tills he spills, disrupting business.Money-changers flee from his attack.Paschal profits wasted there, and no lessTrouble herding all the livestock back.

Still, our spies have little to accuse him;That he might be silenced for some crime.Nightly, in the settling streets they lose himTo some hidden garden quiet time.

With the morning, in the temple, teaching,He is found by scores who seek the truth.Tirelessly, he ridicules our preaching,

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Giving tried traditions stern reproof!

How we weary of this Galilean,Plaguing lordly powers with “cat-and-mouse”.Blasphemy! The unschooled NazareneCalls our halls of prayer his Father’s House!

First to seize him when the crowds are sleeping.Then to trouble Pilate with some threat.All the while our grand composure keeping;We will have this Jesus beaten yet!

Wedding Feast

His tales have become even stranger.His parables more probing yet.His instruments wooing and cutting.His imagery hard to forget.

And now in the City he meets them;Those rabbis of learning and law,Who seek to portray him as rebel,Who seek to uncover some flaw.

Just where will this dialogue take him?Oh where will this sparring match lead?Pray not that a jail cell awaits him.Pray not that he suffer and bleed.

But Jesus has set an agenda,And now is the time for the test.To see if the Jews will accept him

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And his kingdom-call as the best.

Today’s tale was set at a wedding.A King was to marry his son.And friends of the family invitedTo share in the joy, every one.

But all of them made their excuses.Yes all of them had other plans.The guest list was proving pathetic.Their love for their Lord but a sham.

The King was aggrieved by their rebuff,His messengers battered and slain.His army dispatched to wreak vengeanceOn those who had caused him such pain.

Then servants were sent to the country,(The highway and byway and field.)To call for the good, bad and ugly;The King’s wedding feast MUST be filled!

Now here’s where the parable leaves us.The ugly invited to dine?To feast at a sumptuous table?To sample the finest of wine?

And doubtless the rabbis are rabid.A King sitting next to unclean!Some beggars who jumped at the invite!Some wasted and wandering and lean!

Yes, what kind of King seeks the lowly

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And calls them to witness his childIn marriage, the best of life’s pleasures,And makes them his friends? This is wild!

It must be a strange kind of kingdom,Where Court and the plain-folk are one.Where Royalty waits on the ragged.And both find delight in the Son.

Lifted Up, Better to See

It has come to this.In a way, I'm glad. The dank, dark daysIn the cell.My partner's constantRehearsal of our Foul-ups.The robbery gone badMidst the uprising.

So quicklyTo the street.Wooden beams thrustOn our backs.Rome's disgust shown,Block by block,Curses and floggings.Onlookers puzzled.Faces without mercy.

Out of town,The hill beneathGlowering skies.

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The "skull place"Where justice leers.The drop, the stretch,The pounded nails,The screaming shock.Crucified!

...Passing time Stupefies us.Another procession.Another wretch.With a following,No less.(No women wept for us.No rabbis scurrying.)Who comes to join?

He shares the pain,The taunts, the shame.His face is peace,His battered framePuts up no fight.What's that? His nameIs Jesus.Princely sort.I'm drawn to Him!

Emmaus

"We have seen Him! Miriam, it was wonderful. Cleopas and I were walking the road to Emmaus. We just needed some time together to deal with the events of the last few days in Jerusalem. Some small business there provided the opportunity for a quiet journey.We felt intense heaviness and disappointment. We had heard the Nazarene in the Temple. On the Mount of Olives. Wonderful, frightening words of a

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coming upheaval followed by a Golden Age. Admonitions to remain vigilant, clean, helpful. Just like the man himself. Surely you had heard, Miriam, of his many deeds of mercy. How he would lighten up a crowd. The many healings. That fellow Lazarus over in Bethany. And such Messiah talk!

But this was the third day. Some women had reported that his body was missing from the tomb. No one knew where he was or who had taken him. Our spirits were heavy. It was hard to let go of the dream. Liberation for our people.

Suddenly we were joined by a pleasant looking man who asked if he might walk with us. He seemed a good listener. For a while he just let us initiate the conversation. Things turned to our disappointment with recent events. The humiliating capture, torture and death of the rabbi Jesus.

That really sparked a note of interest in him. He even rebuked us for our attitude! We then got a lesson from the scriptures on how Messiah would suffer immensely before entering into his glory. Quite impressive.

Soon we were at the village and it seemed right to us to invite this man for dinner and rest for the night at our lodging.

Then something amazing happened at the meal. It was as if he took over the position of host. He took the serving of bread. Offered up a simple but moving prayer. Broke the bread. We took a closer look at those hands. Scar marks. Punctures. A closer look at his face, his eyes. Captivating. Alive! It was Jesus!

As I tried to say something, he disappeared. Gone! Vanished!

Miriam, we have seen great things. Our joy compelled us to take to the road immediately, nightfall notwithstanding. Return to Jerusalem. Seek out his disciples with this good news. He is risen. He is risen indeed."

Note: I have long been fascinated with a famous painting by Robert Zund showing an elevated bird's eye, or God's eye, view of those three men walking the road. Here was the infant Church. Two gathered with Jesus in their midst. The courteous humanity of the visitor. His companionship in travel. His willingness to receive their ministrations. To share the intimacy

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of a meal and the common blessing of bread. The ever presence of those wounded hands. The arriving of the supernatural so "naturally". The corroboration of all of scripture to his finished work. The warm hearts confirming the awesome yet available comfort and input of deityThe picture which I have shown above has been cropped to give better detail to the three men. The original has a much higher and all-encompassing point of view. As God perhaps would have seen it. I can hear Him saying, "That's right Son. Tell them. Initiate your Church. Just as we saw it from before the foundation of the world."

Paul’s Road of Revelation

Acts 26:

9I verily thought with myself, that I ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth.

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10Which thing I also did in Jerusalem: and many of the saints did I shut up in prison, having received authority from the chief priests; and when they were put to death, I gave my voice against them.

11And I punished them oft in every synagogue, and compelled them to blaspheme; and being exceedingly mad against them, I persecuted them even unto strange cities.

12Whereupon as I went to Damascus with authority and commission from the chief priests,

13At midday, O king, I saw in the way a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me and them which journeyed with me.

14And when we were all fallen to the earth, I heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the Hebrew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.

15And I said, Who art thou, Lord? And he said, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest.

16But rise, and stand upon thy feet: for I have appeared unto thee for this purpose, to make thee a minister and a witness both of these things which thou hast seen, and of those things in the which I will appear unto thee;

17Delivering thee from the people, and from the Gentiles, unto whom now I send thee,

18To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me.

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Ananias

I had the strangest leadingEarly upon rising.Why me, would be Anyone's guess.

But here I am On my way toStraight Street,Walking into trouble.

Never beforeSuch strong impression.A vision of oneSuffering God's will.

The rabbi SaulSent only for perilFor our people.Prison for Christ's flock.

The house of Judas.Here it is.And Saul abed,And sightless, much in prayer

Now, what to say?God help me.Useless I am!But for Your Spirit.

This room? Oh yes.Well, Brother Saul,New marching orders todayOnly believe.

And eyes again

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To see eachNew assignment.The Lord hath need of thee.

Seemed to Pick Her Up Out of the Trouble

Marnie hadn't seen the elderly man until after the collision. Until after she had rear-ended the guy in the pick-up. Until after her teething toddler Jeremy had increased the volume of his bawling threefold. Until after she had sunk her tear-smudged face into the steering wheel.

The old chap had come to her driver's side window: "Not to worry young lady. I saw the whole thing. Stay where you are. Calm your little guy down. My name is Chas. I have phoned for the police. I'm going to get insurance particulars from the guy in the truck. He cut you off. Craziest darn swooping attempt at a right turn that I've ever seen! I'll stick around and give a statement for sure."

And he did just that, giving the odd wave to passing motorists who might have otherwise started the "gawkers block" in traffic.

Who was this guy? He seemed like some sort of guardian angel. His help continued with the arrival of the cruiser and the collecting of information.

"Miss do you have some sort of auto club coverage for the towing. Give 'em a call. I'll try to keep the boy, Jeremy is it, entertained in the interim."

And so things continued with Marnie rapidly regaining composure and a smile,

"Sir I can't thank you enough. You have been a God-send."

"You know that might just be the case, young lady...but don't mention it. The thing just sort of sparked up my afternoon."

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And then he was gone. No details. No phone or address. Consequently no follow-up.

'Yes, he had REALLY been a God-send,' she thought again to herself, as she got into her sister's car.

Friend, you will have experiences in the squeeze where you will know that God has arrived in special kindness, just for you. But it will probably be difficult to convince most others that you have received rescue from above. Do not be discouraged. Do not lose the after-glow of his loving attention. In a mystical way He has spoken to you.

Remember this personal "milestone". He is love.

Early Morning Walk

Single Rose of SharonAt corner bush.Single goldfinch dippingOver perennial garden.Single black squirrelPeeking 'round the trunk.

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Single mourning doveHigh on the wire.Single walker en route.Me.Single thought attests:"Thou art with me.Thy rod and thy staffThey comfort me."

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