What Do You Mean, You Don't Have Time?

What Do You Mean,
Matthew 15:21-28
Karl Evans
2007

Jesus was tired. Every muscle hurt as he trudged the Galilean countryside. The disciples expected a plan from him. They waited in vain for Jesus to share his plans with them. Would he go down into the Decapolis? Would he go north? When did Jesus plan to make his next pilgrimage to Jerusalem, if at all? He was not saying.

The long, hard days of personal ministry were beginning to wear on him. Miles of rough and dusty roads to walk. Even the Roman government, with all its power and money, could not put a decent surface on the roads of the empire. From the British Isles to Pakistan, the great web of highways required constant maintenance.

For Jesus, there was more. His friends and supporters spread the word about him. Soon every villages all over Galilee and the Decapolis expected him to pay them a visit. Unfamiliar beds. All manner of different foods. Insects. Dogs. People. Always more people. Jesus was just tired.

But being tired was not all. Jesus would not have had a problem with that. After all, he was carrying out his mission. The worst was that he was getting frustrated by the unwillingness of people to know and accept his love for them. Many could not believe he had something for them.

Jesus was tired of being rejected. He was sick and tired of being doubted. Tired of being tired. Tired.

Jesus found himself walking the road toward the Mediterranean. He felt the purpose in his heart as he walked. Slowly he was able to move away from others on the road. This was his only means of having some time for himself now.

Walking to the sea coast to visit the resort cities of Tyre and Sidon took about two weeks. It was not such a great distance, from Nazareth to Tyre. Rather, every person he met seemed to want to have some of his time and energy.

Jesus wanted to be in the coastal cities for the sake of the people who lived there. Even more, Jesus needed the rest, the R & R, of the great sea. He might rest on the beaches. He could watch the waves and the tides as he renewed himself by the power of the sea. Even the ships going to and coming from distant lands seem to add an energy to the scene.

It is marvelous what salt spray can do. The roar of even the gentlest surf lapping against the sand or rocks drowns out many sorrows and cares. Sunsets on the ocean on a clear day can cleanse the mind of many things. The finely separating shades of blue and red and orange and gray cleanse the senses of fogginess and doubt.

Jesus even found a little time to go out on the sea in fishing boat with the owner and a few others. For a fisherman from the Sea of Galilee, this was a rare treat. The Mediterranean was even calmer than his home waters. Jesus could relax so well.

Wherever he traveled, Jesus managed to find others to love. Someone always awaited his healing power. This time, Jesus went to the coast to heal himself as well as others. He needed healing in spirit and in mind as well as body.

When Jesus came to the Mediterranean coast to rest, a not-so-strange thing happened. Other people kept coming to him. People who were hurting came to him to be healed. Their timing was always just right. These people who needed healing came to him right at the time Jesus needed healing for his own soul. It never seemed to fail.

One of these was Anya. Anya the Canaanite who came to Jesus with only the last dregs of ethnic hope. Anya the minority in the land of her furthest ancestors came to Jesus.

Anya lived the pitiful life of a native Palestinian. She knew she was looked down upon by the Hebrews themselves. She was abused by the world around herself, but she came to Jesus for healing.

Jesus was tired. Avoiding crowds was not easy, but he needed to be silent. He needed to be relieved of being forced to talk. Those Jews and Gentiles who kept crowding around him made so many demands. They demanded he prove he could solve all their problems by himself. They demanded he heal. They demanded miracles.

Some said he might be the Christ. If he were, he should be able to prove it quickly. Jesus was tired of this game. Everywhere he went, someone else wanted a miracle. Not much of a miracle, mind you. Just make this person wealthy. Make that person win the next election. Make this boy win the big race. Jesus was tired of this.

But Anya needed help. She came to Jesus because she desperately needed help now. Her daughter, Meliq, was a girl possessed.

Meliq was bitter, hostile, struggling against a mother she believed didn't want her. She fought with a mother whom she blamed for Meliq's own Canaanite skin coloring and hair structure. She blamed her mother for this load which hung about her neck like an albatross. This beautiful young woman should have been in her prime. Instead she was bitter about what God had dealt her. The web of anger and resentment aimed at her own mother, at her own blood, made her life a hell.

And Meliq blamed her father, gone though he was. He had disappeared one day with no trace, no direction. It was mostly his fault. He left Meliq and Anya alone.

And Meliq blamed herself. She blamed herself for hurting her own mother. She blamed herself for making life miserable for Anya. The more guilty she felt, the more her hostility came through. When life turned harder for Anya, life became incredibly more difficult for Meliq.

Anya blamed herself for everything. She blamed herself that her husband left. Pressuring him to leave was the last thing she really wanted. He wanted only tenderness and sex and loving support. He was willing to work hard to support Anya and Meliq.

Anya responded to his care and need out of her own bitterness at being trapped. She was trapped forever in a woman's body. Her husband could not stand the rejection of his love, so he left. Now, she was alone and trapped in a Canaanite woman's body.

Anya was trapped as a mother. She was raising a child she wanted and feared and resented. The responsibilities she both demanded and dreaded trapped her. Being an abandoned woman trapped her. Anya was trapped as an abandoned woman in a world that placed no value on such a life.

When her husband left, her real trouble began. Anya began to have trouble with Meliq. Meliq shouldn't have been born. Anya knew it. If only Meliq had not come into this world! Anya's husband could have left easily. No one would have thought too much about it. There would have been far fewer problems.

Anya would not have had to deal with Meliq's hostility and bitter words. Life would have been much easier.

It was a vicious circle. Pressure, hurt, pressure, hurt, pressure, hurt. Anya had to have help from somewhere.

From outside the circle around Jesus, she called in desperation. "Jesus! Jesus!"

Anya began to elbow her way through the crowd to where he stood. "Jesus! Jesus! Master!"

The crowd turned hostile, closing in against her. Some of the Jews tried to keep her from getting ahead of them in their own push to see Jesus. She was Canaanite. This ranked her last in society. She could wait until their needs were met by this prophet.

Jesus struggled within himself. He knew many of this mob did not believe him. These people were only there to heckle or to deride him. There are always those poor souls. They seemed to be without conscience.

Jesus looked through the crowd directly at Anya. His voice was weary. "Anya, right now I don't have time. Right now I've got problems with those of my Israel who think I'm a little crazy. Come back when I have some time. I promise I will try to talk to you later."

By now Anya was close enough to Jesus to look him right in the eye, face to face. She spoke to Jesus as maybe he had never been spoken to before. Her eyes and her voice burned with the fire of desperation as she read him out."

"What do you mean, you don't have time? Don't have the time? If the Son of God does not have the time for me, who does?"

"I need help. I've needed help a long time. All my life. I went to the Temple. I asked for help at the holiest place in the world. The temple priests said they did not have time. They were too busy offering sacrifices to say a prayer for me and my daughter."

"Instead, they said a prayer for the calves they were slaughtering for the sacrifice. They said a prayer for the chickens, and a prayer for the doves. Those jerks said a prayer for the priests, and for more money, but they wouldn't say a prayer for me. They wouldn't say a prayer for my daughter."

Anya didn’t even pause for a breath. "So I went to the synagogue for help. I asked the rabbi who was preaching. I asked the elders who sat listening. I said ‘I need help!’"

"The elders said they were too busy, too busy deciding how many steps they could take on the Sabbath. They said they were busy deciding what kind of theater they could watch."

"They said they were too busy to give a Canaanite woman a cleansing bath of prayer. But they did find time to ask if I had threshed wheat on the Sabbath. They asked if I had brought any money."

"They did ask what I had done wrong. They said I must have done something terribly wrong if my life is so miserable. I have done many things wrong in my life, but could it be the wrongest thing I have done is to believe the people of David might care about me?"

"So I went to the government. I said `I need help.' I said I needed a counselor, and those who speak for God are too busy. Will you help?"

"And the people of the government said `We are too busy. We are too busy writing job descriptions and recruiting counselors to actually provide counseling and care."

"The people of the government said, ‘We are too busy building a pretty chariot which can kill lots of people by running them over without uprooting their flower beds. Too busy giving tax breaks to the wealthy. They must pay the wealthy out of the taxes you pay on your own home. If we don't collect the taxes, how can the government give more money to the wealthy?’"

"They said ‘Go away. We must forget you exist. Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps. If you are poor, you must deserve it. Go and make yourself clean, and then you won't need government aid.'"

Jesus and the others could only stand and listen to the fire in Anya's voice. She chose her cutting words carefully. Then she filled them with the kind of spiritual fire Jesus wished he could match. The pace and passion of her emotions held them to the fire of her voice.

"I went to my neighbors. The people right next door, neighbors for years. They were too busy. They were too busy waiting for Meliq and Anya to die or move out so they could have our home without paying for it."

"Those thieves were not too busy to ask if the house has a good foundation. They were not too busy to make plans to eventually tear the house down and build a duplex, but too busy to help us live now."

"I--I was just about to give up, to find a way to just die. Let everything go. I would have ended everything."

"Then I heard about you. I heard you came to bring Heaven on earth."

"I was glad. I jumped for joy! I had hope because this earth is not the Kingdom of God. It is nothing but hell for me and my daughter. You would help me! I was so happy. So I came."

"Now you say you don't have time for me either! You have to please these people who surround you who are nothing but warts on the skin of life! If you, the Son of God, the Christ, the Son of David, the one sent from Heaven, do not have time for me, then who in Hell does?"

"You don't even see me, do you? Your eyes are fogged over. You're seeing yourself."

"Look at me. I say, look at me! Look in my eyes. Do I exist? Am I real? If I exist, does anyone care?"

A tremor of silence held the crowd. Not even the most uncaring in the crowd could look up.
Finally Jesus looked into her eyes. He did not see her at first, only seeing himself as she had said.

Jesus knew he was caught. He was caught in the very human trap of caring about his own acceptance. Jesus was caught worrying about going to Jerusalem. Jesus was caught wondering what awaited him when he finally would go to Jerusalem.

Jesus knew he was beginning to spend more time caring about trial, more time facing rejection, more time organizing the church than caring for the people around him.

Now he began to find his fire again. Jesus opened himself to her frustrations. "You are right. You have caught me where I cannot escape. You have cast judgement on my love, and on my power, and found it wanting. All right. You are right. You have made me see you."

Jesus continued. "Let me have whatever it is you cannot carry. Let me carry your load. I will do what I can."

And Anya, more gently now, said "Jesus, I have already given you my anger. I don't want it back. I guess you can keep that.

"Jesus, I cannot live with my own impatience. It is a load I cannot bear. And another thing, I have the feeling of being trapped, trapped as a woman. I am trapped as a mother, trapped as a Canaanite. Take this feeling from me. Please Jesus, take it away. Take away the trap of being what I am. I cannot live with it."

Jesus took Anya in his arms, holding her tight. Tears came to four tired brown eyes, tired from seeing each other, and from seeing themselves in each other. While they held, life revealed itself to both.

Jesus said quietly "Meliq will be all right. She is a good child. You and Meliq will have your love for each other. I will carry the load you have given me. At least we will love each other in the way people ought to be loved."

With a last hug, Anya moved away from the crowd on the shore, up the dusty road toward home. Still Jesus' words echoed in her heart, strong words, gentle words, caring and loving words, "You and Meliq will have your love."

As Anya neared her home, she began to make little plans. Plans to clean the house, to spend a little more time with her daughter, to care for someone else. As she walked she wondered how Jesus might actually help her. Well, he could at least just hear her story. That made her wonder about how he worked. It did feel good.

Anya liked the way Jesus said her daughter's name. "Meliq." He gave it such a pleasant note. And when he said "Anya," it was as if he really cared about her.

As she reached out for the latchstring of the door to her tiny home she remembered the love in Jesus’ voice. Jesus had said "Meliq. Meliq. Meliq. Anya. Anya."

Anya liked the way Jesus said the names. As she stepped inside, she was startled by what she remembered now. Anya had not told him either her daughter's or her own name.

Naki and Balo Find a Home

Naki and Balo Find a Home
John 20:24
Karl Evans



Nakim pulled the rag of a blanket closer around his body. Only stars and a little of the sun's early rays lit the scene. Part of that light was beginning to come in the east so far this morning.
The boy wanted to get a few more minutes of sleep before rising. Actually, it was very warm and cozy here. Balo curled up in Nakim's arms under the blanket. The air felt cold on his face.

Nakim and Balo had been together as long as Nakim could remember. Nakim was not really sure how long that was, because no one knew for sure how old Nakim was. Nakim thought he could remember at least nine or ten Passovers, but most people thought him to be about seven or eight.

Balo was just a little fellow with lots of hair and big floppy ears. He didn't eat much. That was very good.

Nakim worried sometimes about Balo getting old. He might get too old to run and play. But since he did not know how old Nakim was, he surely did not know how old Balo was.

Actually it didn't matter too much how old Nakim was. There was no school for someone so poor as Nakim. It only mattered when he thought about going to the synagogue with the men.

When the boys turned twelve were they allowed into the discussions and debates and teaching in the synagogue. Until that time they could go with their families, but they had to be quiet and just listen.

Nakim used to go to the synagogue sometimes with his grandmother Nona. Nakim had lived with Nona for a long time. He lived with her from the day his mother died.

Now Nona was very old and very weak. Nakim spent most of his time on the street with Balo. They went to Nona's house sometimes to see how she was doing, or when he did not feel well himself. Sometimes he went there to sleep a night or two.

The women from the village brought in only a little food. Usually enough only for Nona. Nakim and Balo left again to find food by begging or scavenging.

Early in the morning Nakim and Balo went to the back doors and scrap heaps of the wealthy homes around Nazareth. At these homes they were sometimes given lamb or goat bones or pieces of meat for Balo. Sometimes there was some bread or fruit for Nakim. In the scrap heaps Balo often found other food wasted the day before.

Just a little later, early every morning, Nakim and Balo went to the village oven where the less wealthy people came to bake their bread.

Almost everyone who came there gave them a little something to eat. Sometimes it was the first slice off a fresh, hot loaf. It might be still so hot Nakim could not even hold it in his hand. Sometimes it was a piece of flat bread or a hard roll. A roll could be soaked in warm goat milk.

This morning Nakim knew it was the time of the Passover. He hadn't been to the synagogue for several weeks. He just knew it was spring.

At the back doors of the wealthy homes Nakim could smell the strong odor of maror, something like strong onion or horseradish. Cinnamon smell was everywhere. At the oven, several people gave him matzoh for himself and Nona.

Today Nakim filled his little shoulder bag nearly full of fruit and matzoh. This should be enough for Nakim and Nona for several days.

He knew Balo didn't like matzoh, so they would have to find something else for the little dog. But Nakim was very good and didn't eat too much, so they should be all right.

When Nakim came to Nona's home, the neighbors were already there. It was just a little house, just one room large enough for a bed for Nona and a bed for Nakim and a table. There were two chairs at the table and some shelves along the wall. All the ragged clothing was on the shelves.

The visitors that morning were very good people. They lived in the house just behind Nona's, with a little fence between the two families. Nakim often played with Jesus in the streets of Nazareth and in the fields around town.

Jesus' mother was one of the nice ladies at the oven who often gave Nakim and Balo and Nona something good to eat. Nakim was glad to see Mary and Jesus at the house.

Nakim worried a lot about Nona. She was very old now, and getting weaker every day. The grandson knew his beloved Nona would die one day soon. Sometimes her breath seemed to rattle in her throat as if life itself were escaping.

When Nona died, Nakim and Balo would be all be themselves in the world. That would not be good, because someone could come and take Nakim away as a slave. Nakim did not want to have to be someone's slave just to have food to grow up. He was very worried.

Mary gave Nakim a good hug and a smile when he came into the little house. Nakim went to Nona's bed and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

She smiled a little and squeezed his hand. "You are such a good boy, Naki. You are so good to an old woman. I hope you are always good to people when they get old."

Nakim liked it when Nona called him `Naki'. It just sounded loving and warm and homey. He laid his supply of food on the table. The food Mary and Jesus had brought was also on the table.
The bread didn't seem like much, but it would do for a while. None of them ate very much. Then Nakim and Jesus went outside.

Jesus and Nakim took turns throwing a stick for Balo to fetch. Sometimes Balo brought it back to Nakim. Sometimes he brought it back to Jesus.

On some days, though, Balo had a little fun. When he wanted to tease the boys, Balo brought the stick back toward the boys and just kept on running right past them.

Then he ran down the street a little way, laid the stick down between his paws and just barked. "Wark. Wark. Wark. Jesus and Nakim, come try to get the stick. You can't catch me."

So Nakim and Jesus ran to catch Balo. They wrestled with him to get the stick. Then they threw the stick and the game started all over again.

Finally Nakim and Jesus were tired for a moment. Balo sat with the stick in his paws and barked at the boys. Jesus and Nakim sat under an olive tree to rest.

When Jesus talked, it was very soft. Nakim could barely hear Jesus. "Nona is very old, isn't she? She just seems to lie on the bed most of the time now. Whenever we come that is all she does."

Nakim was worried now, but he needed to talk to someone about Nona. "I think she will die before long. She doesn't have much strength now. Sometimes she can't even feed herself. I'd like to help her, but I don't know what to do."

The boys were silent now for a while. Jesus tossed some pebbles at a piece of broken water jug a few feet away. "I guess all you can do is help her eat sometimes. Well, I suppose you could keep the house clean. Well, a little, anyway."

Nakim and Jesus both laughed at this. No one would say the house was really very clean right now. But the word "house" brought another worry to Nakim's heart. What would he do when Nona died?

Jesus watched as Nakim's eyes began to shine from the tears. He knew what Nakim was worried about. The two had often talked about Nakim living on the street all the time. What a big adventure it would be!

But both Jesus and Nakim knew the dangers. Both boys knew living on the street was not the thing for Nakim.

Jesus began to make a little picture in the dust. Nakim could see it was a map of the area around their houses and the other houses around them.

With a stick, Jesus drew in Nona's house with the door and the window and the two beds. He even put into the plan the table and the two chairs.

Jesus sat for a long time looking at the little map. Then without a word he stood up and went inside. Mary was washing Nona's face. "Mama, I need to talk to you and Daddy. It's really important."

Mary was always excited when Jesus spoke in that tone. It meant he had thought something through with his special way. He was ready to do something important.

"Yes, Jesus. I'll be through here in just a second. Then we can go home. Joseph said he would be working at home all day today."

In a few more minutes Joseph and Mary and Jesus sat at their own table. It was time for Jesus to speak. "See, I know Nona is going to die pretty soon. She is very old and very weak. That is okay. I know what death is. I know it is all right to die."

"But I am worried about Nakim. We have been feeding Nona most of the time, and sometimes Nakim. And, oh yes, Balo likes to eat, too."

"I think we can keep feeding them. But where can Nakim live when Nona dies? What will he do?"

Mary and Joseph looked at each other in silence. Jesus went on. He had a plan. "Can Nakim come live with us? I don't want my friend to be hungry and not have a house."

Now it was Joseph's turn. "Jesus, I know you like Nakim. He is a good boy. Mary and I like him. We are glad you play with him. But we have no room. I cannot build a house big enough for all of us, and we are crowded now."

Mary spoke softly, but with real feeling for Nakim in her voice. "Yes, Jesus, I think we could feed Nakim, but your father is right. There is hardly enough room for the three of us now."

"And you are growing bigger and stronger every day. So is Nakim. Where would we put you two?"

Now Jesus smiled. He had hoped his parents would say this, and he was ready. Again he started to draw a little map in the dust. "I think there is a better way for all of us. Look here. See, here are the houses. Here is the fence."

"Now, we can take this fence and move it around to the front of Nona's house. It would almost be one big house, wouldn't it? It would be a big house with three rooms rather than two small houses."

"There is only barely enough room to walk between Nona's house and the fence now. There is not much more than that on our side. When we take away the fence, this would make the two houses into one."

"Then I could move into the other room with Nakim. You two could have this side all to yourselves. Would it be all right?"

Joseph and Mary could only look at each other with surprise. What could they say other than it might work, if the boys wanted it to work?

Nona would have to sign her name in front of witnesses to say she was giving the house to Mary and Joseph. They would then give it to Nakim when he reached fifteen.

Then he would be old enough by law to own a home, even be married. He would be grown up. But there was even more work to do.

The fence had to go. The boys and Joseph and Balo took care of that. They dug new holes for the posts along the other side of the house. They were very careful to dig them in a straight line, and just so far apart. Then they took down the fence and rebuilt it on the other side of the house.

Many other tasks were difficult. The scroll giving the property to the Joseph and Mary had to be written up and signed. Two of the village elders witnessed the signing and then signed their own names.

Finally, after Nona died a few weeks later, the family agreed to one more step. It was Nakim's idea. "I am now a new person. I have a new family. I have a mother and a father at last. I want you to call me by a different name."

Mary and Joseph and the elders of the city listened to a voice that was suddenly older. Perhaps they heard him as mature, ready now to take the place of a man among men in the community.

"I have been thinking a lot about what you should call me. Many names sound good, but there is one that is best. It sounds strong and wise."

"One of the soldiers who stayed down at the inn had the name, and he was big and strong. He helped me once when Balo was hurt. I want to be big and strong and kind as he was. From now on, I want you to call me Thomas."

So from that day the two were always together. Many people who visited Nazareth or saw the boys somewhere around Galilee thought it was normal. Mary and Joseph had twin sons, Jesus and Thomas.

Nakim and Balo had found a home.