A Rainbow Connection

The Rainbow Connection

Luke 2:41-52

Karl Evans

2007

Donkeys. Good grief, donkeys. Donkeys have been the stock of motherly love and admiration since the earliest of times. These steady workers have also been the butts of constant jokes. Even political commentators and tired travelers have lamented their stubbornness and cries of woe.

Yet donkeys have a reputation as docile, plodding, easy-going animals, willing to accept any load. Faithful donkeys have been the burden-bearers of almost the entire world since domestic animal history began.

Along a hot trail or standing in the sun or lying in the shade, donkeys seem always to be the same. Legend says donkeys will never stray, never flinch. Much of the hoopla about donkeys is true.

That is, all but that little part about being gentle, easy-going, and docile. And especially except that part about being comfortable to ride.

Donkeys are common on the busiest street in Jerusalem. In front of the Temple of Judaism, the holiest shrine in the world, donkeys may not seem so pleasant. There are a few problems at a sacred site.

Every day, hundreds of people from Jerusalem itself came to the temple. Many more came from faraway places such as India and Spain and Madagascar and Egypt.

The visitors came with their yapping dogs and with their neighing and prancing horses. Pilgrims came with their singing and talking birds and with their oxen and their camels. They came to make an offering to the Lord and to give thanks.

Of course, they also came to buy and sell. They came to yell at and bicker with each other. All this made this one of the most crowded and cosmopolitan of markets of the time.

Now, about the donkeys. What do you think? In this mess, will a donkey stand still? Will a donkey stand quietly while dogs chase each other and fight each other between the legs of the donkey?

Will the donkey stand calmly while huge oxen plod by? Or will it remain placid as the governor's chariots race back and forth?

Can the donkey be calm while camels three times the size of the donkey buck and roar and spit over them? Would you? Of course not.

But now it is early morning, and time to go back home. Time to return to Damascus, and Alexandria, and Bagdad, and Delhi. Time to hit the road.

So the donkey pilgrims form their caravan as early in the morning as possible. When the first light of day comes, they already have their packs tied together and strapped to their beasts.
They are usually some of the poorest of the pilgrims. The wealthier travelers had camels or chariots for themselves. These poor but faithful visitors have only donkeys and dogs. The travelers with camels and horses looked down on them.

Yet the donkey pilgrims are not quite destitute. A donkey, though not a huge animal, is still worth good money. And it still requires feed, and water, and care.

These pilgrims have come to the Temple for the sake of faith rather than status. Some have perhaps done a small bit of buying or selling in Jerusalem to help pay for the trip. Now, with the rituals and the trading done, the Temple visited, and homesickness setting in, it is time to leave.

With the first light of dawn, the men of the caravan make their last walk into the courtyard of the Temple. Many meaningful prayers are uttered here. Often the prayers are for another opportunity to see the temple again one more time before death.

Then the families and animals wait, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. The men offer their last prayers for a safe journey home--wherever around the world that may be. Many of them will never see Jerusalem again. Then, donkey after donkey, camel after camel, sandal after sandal, the ragged bands begin the long trek home. They are long gone before the confusion of the daily marketplace really erupts.

In relief and in a spiritual high, the whole caravan of pilgrims and sightseers and small-time traders move off down the road. They are beginning what will be for many families a 10-day or ten-week trek to home, to Nazareth or Athens wherever their home happened to be.

Almost this whole caravan left.

Almost this whole family left.

There was the boy--oh, about twelve or so. The trip was a present from his parents on his becoming a man. This was in the good tradition of the Jews.

He has been confirmed in the faith just after his twelfth birthday. His family and friends affirmed him and his place in the community. They supported him in his relationship with his God and with God's Chosen People.

Jesus had gone through the ritual in the winter. Now it is spring and the rainy season is past. The family has made the trip from Nazareth to Jerusalem. They came partly as a sightseeing and business trip and partly as a gift to Jesus.

Now Joseph has been getting along in years. This would almost certainly be his last trip to Jerusalem. As he knelt, he felt the majestic presence of the Great Temple. The power of God seemed to force itself upon him from the spot of the Holy of Holies.

In his last few moments alone with the beloved Temple, Joseph prayed for peace for all the world. He prayed for his wife and family. He prayed for Jerusalem, and for Israel, and for the family of David.

At last he let his mind and heart see a new Israel springing up around the Temple. He could see sunshine and flowers and rainbows.

Jesus could even feel the peace of the new Israel. This vision was the most precious gift of any pilgrimage to the Temple. Every Son of Abraham is privileged to witness that vision, given a little faith.

With the vision firmly embedded in his heart and mind, Joseph was ready.

The men of the caravan slowly rose to go back to the caravan and begin the long trek.

Joseph left Jesus kneeling in the courtyard, deep in prayer. Joseph was used to this by now.
Jesus spent more time in prayer than did other boys. Mary and Joseph had long since decided the best parenting style in this situation was benign neglect. He chose to let Jesus be. He did not understand Jesus. Joseph just tried to stay out of Jesus’ way.

Joseph frequently remembered Jesus had a special relationship with God. Often he thought it might turn out to be more trouble than it was worth. Sometimes, such as just now, Jesus was a confusing nuisance. By his special interests, he was not quite in the mainstream of the community.

His extra time reading or in prayer might have been better used to help in the carpentry work. Even at the age of twelve he could have made some money working or trading here at the gates of the Temple. Right now he could have been helping the caravan prepare its departure.

Now that Jesus had become a man, Joseph was hoping he would be a little more reliable about the family business. Jesus can work hard as a carpenter's helper. Jesus could and should do the things needed to make the family life better.

But today, because it is special, Joseph let Jesus have a last few minutes. Joseph had a donkey and a wife to look after. Jesus would be along shortly. Joseph really needed Jesus with him now. Jesus could both carry part of the load and help lead the donkey.

Now as a man and a Jew, Jesus finally lifted his eyes. He rose slowly but resolutely in the morning light of the courtyard. Steadily he turned to join his parents. He really wanted to just stay in the courtyard of the Temple, but he knew he must go back now to Nazareth. There would be another day.

As he took one last look around the yard, his eyes landed on a blind man. The man's dog was just setting on a fight with another dog, a stray. They were yapping and barking and biting and crying.

The leash on the blind man's dog was getting tangled in the legs and mouths of both dogs. The blind man tried to separate them but succeeded only in getting himself bit by his own dog.

Jesus ran to the man and the dogs. With the help of another man he pulled the dogs apart. Jesus struggled to untangle the leashes and legs and teeth of the dogs. He spoke as calmly and gently as he could to sooth the emotions of the frantic dogs.

Jesus spoke the thoughts running through him, deep inside. "There has to be a better way for the Father's creatures to live. Mister, let me look at your dog. Come on, now, that's better. Let's have a look at you."

The blind man knelt beside Jesus, running his hands over his dog. He tried to find the places of torn skin and muscles, but could do little without help. The young Jesus helped him locate the bites that were the most dangerous.

The man found a little oil in his pouch, and Jesus helped him put it on the worst of the places. Jesus tied some of the hairs around a torn spot together to help the skin stay in place until it could heal.

Then Jesus looked to the other dog. He found a panting, heaving, skinny, half-starved mongrel, a wild dog of the streets. Jesus tried to work on his hurts. There was no one to hold this dog. Everyone else had left when the fighting was over.

Jesus thought again, "There has to be a better way for the Father's creatures to live."

Finally a woman knelt beside him to look at the wounds. She poured some water from a skin pouch at her waist. She bathed the open sores. Gently the unknown lady spoke to Jesus and to the dog.

Just as the kind lady brought out a little oil pouch, a large man, a course man, grabbed her by her hair and pulled her roughly to her feet. "Stupid woman. No sense at all. That's about the stupidest thing I've seen ever in this world!"

Jesus heard the words, " . . . in this world," and something in him moved. Something had to change. This was not the world hoped for in Creation.

Then, with the movement within the heart of Jesus, something began to change in the world. Jesus went to the well where another woman helped him clean the mud and the dogs' blood from his clothing and hands.

As they cleaned him off, Jesus questioned himself about his life. There must be another world, another kingdom, another life. But how?

He was supposed to be a man now, but really he was only a boy of twelve. He was the son of a carpenter, the son of Mary. But there was more. The congregation of the synagogue had confirmed Jesus as a Son of the Covenant, a Son of David, a Son of the Creator.

Somehow he didn't know all this meant for him yet, but now he was a man, a responsible adult. He knew he was ready to take his turn in the synagogue, ready to teach, ready to serve.

Just ready! But for what?

Jesus nearly ran to the circle of priests gathering now for the daily Temple work. His eagerness could hardly be contained in his young body. Jesus needed to ask how they could transform this world into the New World.

Jesus partly asked from the Law, which said Jesus had the right to ask questions now. Partly he lived out their tradition, which said he could sit among them for a time. Partly from kindness, but mostly from Jesus’ own boyish eagerness, the priests opened their circle to him.

He began to ask them the questions which were troubling him, questions which have troubled every generation of teenagers.

It was well he did. There were many ideas, refreshing ideas. These learned men were eager to attempt to answer fresh questions, though they were also old questions.

They discovered life anew, these men and the boy/man. Learning together. Dreaming together. Preparing together.

Some of the priests talked about their own frustrations with families who did not understand the commitment to the faith. Some families didn't like the constant emphasis on prayer and ritual.
Jesus could see the real frustrations of temple life in these men. Yet he knew this was only a symptom of the difficulty of living in such a world.

They talked for hours. As their talking went on Jesus became more excited about the forces available to change this world.

He began to see there actually were adults in the synagogues and in the Temple who cared. Many cared as deeply about the world as Jesus did. He began to experience the frustrations of a society which tries to do what is right and just cannot quite hit the mark.

The place of the faithful people of the Lord became much more clear in his mind. His heart seemed to overflow with the possibilities for a new world.

"Jesus! What are you doing? Gentlemen, I'm sorry for butting in, but Jesus has no business here. He is supposed to be with us in the caravan.

"Jesus, we've looked all over for you. Your mother is worried sick. We walked halfway to Jericho before we turned back for you.

"We brought you to Jerusalem because we thought you had become a man, you were no longer a child.

"But now you act like a child. You are supposed to be a man, a Son of the Covenant, a Son of David, a man of the people. Maybe you are too proud to even be with people who have a donkey

"Maybe your people are these rich priests who never have done a day's work in their lives!"

Jesus' vision wandered off to the donkey. He knew his friend was getting old. Hundreds of times he had heard the story of how it had carried Mary and her yet-to-be-born Child to Bethlehem. Jesus had spent hundreds of hours climbing on the donkey, petting him, talking to him, pretending he was another friend. Now it was his job to feed it, to comb it, to keep it healthy and out of harm.

There was a newborn donkey, just a few weeks old now, which would one day replace this old friend on these trips.

Just now the baby donkey was back in Nazareth, just eating and playing and growing. Soon his father would be tired, too tired to make the long trips, but by then the son would be ready.
Jesus thought of the blind man. He remembered with his touch the quivering dogs. His heart churned for the woman with the oil who suffered at the hand of an abusive and violent man. He felt thankful for the one who helped him clean up. His eyes began to see another world.

Jesus looked around at the understanding eyes of the priests. His vision was of them each holding a scroll of the scripture in front of them, reading, explaining, teaching.

He looked at Joseph who just hours ago was kneeling beside him in the Temple courtyard. Together they had prayed for the New World. "Dad, you need to know now I must take care of my Father's business. But you are right. There is work to do in Galilee."

Though the rainy season was past, a rainbow appeared in the bright Jerusalem skies.

Scythopolis

Scythopolis

Luke 10:1-20

Karl Evans

The Second Dozen around Jesus was very important to Jesus. This group seemed to do all the work. The gospels teem with stories of these hard workers going here and there for Jesus. They recruited. They found food and lodging. They went places Jesus could never go. But they worked without fanfare. The first dozen got the credit.

One of this second twelve was an ordinary fellow, Elos by name. Elos worked hard in the name of his master. He just saw himself as committed totally to Jesus. He was really just, well, not as well known as some of the disciples.

Jesus sent some second twelve workers out to all the towns in the north of Palestine. Others made their way into Lebanon. Some went to Egypt, or even Jerusalem. Many of them would never return after being sent out. They were victims of accident, disease, or repression. Some were unable to keep the faith. Others just found work that kept them busy until the day they died.

But not the first thirteen. Most of the first group stayed close. They may have felt the need to stay in touch. Staying in touch seemed somehow critical. Some catastrophe such as the end of the world might come about. Or they might just lose track of each other, not be able to make contact. Then again, some were prepared to spend the next several days in prayer.

After Jesus finished giving everyone else their assignments, he studied Elos a moment. He furrowed his brow and squinted his eyes as if deep in thought before speaking.

"Elos, I have a challenge for you. Everyone else is going out two at a time to spread the Kingdom. Some are going north to Damascus. Some are headed for Jerusalem, or for Egypt. Some are going around Lake Tiberias into the Decapolis. Everyone has their own assignment now except you.”

“I haven't forgotten you. I have a special task for you. A little town called Scythopolis is crying out. I think just for you. It is very important to me. There are some personal things there . . .” Jesus’ voice trail off. He paused, deep in thought, before he spoke again.

“The people there have asked for someone to come talk about the Kingdom of God. I want you to go there. The problem is, I don't have anyone to send with you. I had hoped someone else would come along, but no one has. Are you willing to go by yourself? Do you think you can handle it?"

"Scythopolis!" thought the dumbstruck Elos. "Scythopolis! No one wants to go to Scythopolis. Good grief! I can't go there. They resent even their own prophets there. They string up their prophets up on a tree. At least they did this to the last fellow who went there to announce a new world. They put a crown of thorns on his head and called him the King." The image dancing in Elos’ head panicked him for a moment.

The stream of confused thoughts continued. "I can't do it. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I'm too young to die. Do I have to go alone? Why me? Send me to Tyre or Sidon. If I fail there, at least I can just get on a ship and keep on going. Or send me to Babylon so I can be a slave.”

In his thoughts Elos cried out. “Send me to Egypt so I can build another pyramid in my captivity. That would be easier than preaching in Scythopolis. Am I actually going to Scythopolis? Forget it, buster!" His daydreams were filled with rebellion. But he spoke cautiously.
_

"Jesus, uuuhhhh, I think I need to pray about this. It would be very difficult, you know. I hear there are some strong persons there who are pretty set in their ways. They are all Samaritans! Every one of them. Samaritans don't take too kindly to outsiders. Samaritans do not really understand our religion, our theology. They carry long knives. My mother told me I should not marry a Samaritan. I don't know the language all that well. I hear the cost of living is very high there."

Jesus laughed. Elos had always liked to hear Jesus laugh, but not now. "Elos, I am not sending you to Scythopolis to build a harem or to produce a large family. People there need me. I just cannot go every place and talk to every person. Do you understand?”

“Go to Scythopolis and you will find the wildest thing. The people there are just ordinary folk. Teachers and rabbis and cooks and children. The mayor is a decent chap, although he is getting on in years. I know a counselor who has a son who is spoiled rotten.”
_

“When you go to the inn, tell them I sent you, and they will put you up free. They have promised me this. Just go, and tell them about me. Tell them you have talked with me, you have seen me. That's all you have to do. Will you go?"

Jesus really didn't give Elos a chance to say "No!" Before Elos knew what was up, he was on his way south. The distance was not far, and there were many people on the road to walk with. Soon he was near the little Samaritan town of Scythopolis. As he came near the ancient Greek city, he had the strangest feeling he had been part of this scene before.

It was just as Jesus had described the town. Jesus gave Elos so many details Elos suspected Jesus had been there and made the arrangements. That would have had to happen during a time Jesus just disappeared for several days. He did this sometimes.

In Scythopolis, Elos found teachers and rabbis with their funny little black hats. There were dogs and cats, chickens and cattle, camels and horses. He found a market, and an inn, and a synagogue. He was not to sure about visiting a Samaritan synagogue.

Elos met the mayor who obviously expected Jesus to send someone. Perhaps the mayor looked for someone with a higher status in the organization. The mayor was getting old, and was gray and too plump to be a great politician.

The mayor introduced him to the chief rabbi in town who also served as a community counselor. The rabbi was busy writing a grant to attend a conference at Tyre. He needed to spend a few days getting training in new methods. He also yearned to catch a few rays of ocean front sunshine.

The counselor's son kept interrupting the conversation. Finally he kicked Elos in the shin and screamed "Get out of here! I want to talk now!" This confused Elos, but he did not speak of the bratty child.

The mayor took Elos to the inn which was run by Jacob with help from a woman called Elissa. Elissa was a dressmaker, but as her eyes failed she had to find other work. The inn was the only available work in town.

Now because it was late in the evening, Jacob provided a meal of mutton stew for Elos. After Elos ate, Jacob showed Elos the corner of the room where he would be sleeping.

At one time, Scythopolis had a fairly heavy traffic of commercial travelers. Now few people came through the town. The commercial travelers all slept on the floor on straw pallets in the big room. During the day the pallets were picked up and piled neatly in the corner.

The straw pallets attracted many mice, and the mice attracted many cats. Jacob told Elos he had wanted to get rid of some cats, but Elissa wouldn't let him do it. She said they needed the cats to keep the mouse population down. But forty-'leven cats?

Elos’ feet were so tired he really did not care about Elissa’s many cats. He just wanted to sleep. He didn't even care if half the travelers and dogs in the place snored. Nothing could be worse than James and John. Jesus and the other disciples called James and John Sons of Thunder. He did appreciate, however, the cat. It came to his bed at night and curled itself up at his feet. The warmth felt good, and he was soon fast asleep.

Suddenly a man roared in the dim lamplight and started everything going. Dogs panicked and started fighting. Cats scattered. Elos sat up in a daze and wondered whether to panic and run. He knew, he just knew, he should not have come. The tiny lamp burned through the night to help folks avoid trampling each other. Now the dim light only allowed some sense of forms jumping and moving around, wondering.

Finally the voice of the man who had started the confusion came strong and clear. "Settle down. Go back to sleep. That blasted cat just licked the bottom of my foot. Good . . . night."

Elos learned to put up with the cats. Elissa was very kind and made it worth the trouble. When Elos went out into the town in the early morning. He often found someone who was hungry or sleeping under the bridge. This stranger was someone to feed. At first Elos begged the merchants around town to help him provide for the poor. They soon tired of the drain on their purses. He began to bring them back to the inn for food. He offered to go without a meal or a place to sleep if Elissa would help him care for the stranger.

Dear Elissa would provide a bath, and some food. Then through much of the night Elos and Jacob and Elissa and some others who couldn't sleep would sit and talk. They talked mostly about trying to make life better. They hoped only to take some first steps toward helping the poorest of the poor find food and shelter. These weak ones might later become the leaders of the community. For now, these people needed to know God loved them. They needed food and shelter just to live.

The process seemed long and hard, harder even than Elos had feared. Elos doubted he was doing any good in Scythopolis. He tried and tried. He talked to every person he could find. Scouring the streets was not productive. He talked to rabbis, and homemakers, and merchants, and children. Elos tried everything he could think of. He succeeded only in growing more discouraged as time went on.

Finally the time came to report to Jesus what had happened in Scythopolis. Elos knew from experience the words Jesus expected to hear. Jesus would take the time to listen to a full report. Jesus would want to know what great things he had done for Scythopolis. He would ask how many lives Elos had renewed.

Elos was most embarrassed when he thought he had wasted his time. He knew he had spent much time trying to help the poor people of Scythopolis. He helped them to just stay alive. Elos helped them find food and shelter and new life. He had not built any organization. He knew he had not really spent much time talking about Jesus. There just wasn't time.

Elos needed to take someone with him just to prove he had not just been standing around in Scythopolis. He thought of all those he had tried to help. In frustration he panicked, knowing well that apparently he hadn't really helped anyone.

Several alcoholics had gone back to the jug. Some of his projects had just wandered off, kings of the road, not wanting to stay in town. Some had just come in for the bath and for the food. When the sun came up, they were on the road again. It was very frustrating for Elos.

The night before Elos was to return north to Jesus and admit his failure, he struggled with his own failure. He sat outside the inn with his head in his hands. Elissa came and sat beside him. "Elos, what's the problem? I thought you would be excited about going back to the Sea of Galilee and seeing Jesus and your old friends again. You are moping around here as if you don't really want to go. What is it?"

Elo s admitted to Elissa his worry about standing in the gathering of the followers of Jesus. He struggled to admit his failure to renew the town of Scythopolis. He couldn't see he had helped anyone find a new life. No one. No success. Everything in town looked pretty much as it did on the da y he came.

Elos and Elissa sat in the cool evening, wondering. What might have been if they had some money to work with? Maybe if Jesus could have sent someone with Elos. They talked about all those with whom they had worked. They talked about their hopes for successes in the future. Elos knew not much could be claimed as success tonight. As the evening went on, at least Elos could talk to someone about his problems. Maybe he would get some sleep that night.

Finally, after a long period of silently listening and thinking, Elissa spoke softly. "Would you like me to go with you and be there when you speak? I'd like to meet this Jesus you have talked so much about. I'm sure Jacob will let me have a few days off. The cats will be all right."

Elos laughed. This wasn't exactly what he had expected. Elissa? Hardly a new person. Hardly one who had made a major shift in the direction of her life. Elissa was a good woman, not one who had seen a new light, ethically and morally. Elos could not brag to Jesus about having changed Elissa’s place in the community. No one would whisper their appreciation for the work of Elos in Scythopolis based on any changes in Elissa.

Elissa would be good company on the trip if she didn't insist on bringing all those blasted cats. OOOhhhhh, my!

Two days later they were near Capernaum in the evening, down by the lake. Jesus was there, and the disciples, and the rest of the second twelve. The word spread that Jesus was calling his people together for a meeting. Some curious people came out from town, curious about Jesus. They were curious about those who had gone away, and were now returning. Some wanted to support the work. They just came along to be helpful in whatever way they could. Some came expecting some kind of miracle.

Jesus asked the disciples and the second twelve to come away from the crowd for a time. He wanted to be with them, to talk privately with them, and to pray with them.

A disciple pointed out the crowd was hungry. A few biscuits and a couple fish were all the food available to feed them.

Jesus took these simple foods, blessed them, and handed them to the disciples. "Here, take this food, and feed the people. Then bring what you have left over and come join the rest of us. We will be up by that rock." A couple disciples smiled at the joke of there being any food left over. Jesus pointed to an outcropping on the hill and started for it.

Jesus took the second twelve off by themselves while the disciples began to serve the people. When Jesus and his people gathered near the rock, he asked how they had been feeding the people.

A couple had been to Tiberias and had cast out demons in the name of the Lord. Two had just recently returned from Sidon where they had worked among the Roman garrison there. On and on it went. It seemed each person had a more successful story to tell.

Finally, at last, only Elos had not spoken. Jesus turned to Elos. "I sent you to Scythopolis to feed my sheep. What happened to you there? Tell us all the great things you have accomplished."

Elos hung his head. He was trying to gather his courage to admit failure when he heard a voice beside him speaking. "Let me answer for Elos! He is very bashful just now. My name is Elissa. I can say what Elos cannot find words to say.”

“I am a simple woman. All my adult life I have lived alone until just recently. I have made a few shekels sewing clothes for the wealthy. Even sewing for the poor in Scythopolis has given me a small profit.”

“My friends have been my cats, so many of them I could not count. My pay for sewing for the poor has often been in fish. I have fed the fish to my cats--or any cats who have come to me for food. They have been my family.”

“Not long ago I began to lose my sense of touch. I could not sew. The needle would not hold in my hand. I found work cleaning and cooking and keeping accounts at the inn of a friend.”

“I was lost. I held a job I didn't understand and didn't want to do. The people who came in were tired and cranky from travel. They were dirty from the dust of the road. They smelled like camels and donkeys and dogs and cattle. I did not think I could do the work. I knew I did not want to do the work. Quit the job! Just wander off into the desert and die.“

“One night Elos brought someone else with him. Elos had been staying in the inn a few days. Elos paid for a bath and food for him. The next night it was a different man who was the guest. Then it was an elderly woman. Elos brought others. I wondered about Elos, whether he knew what he was doing.”

“One night he came to me asking if I knew of some way he could work off the bath and the food. We arranged some things with the people we knew. Every night for the next three weeks, someone else came for help. I began to look forward to the evening, wondering whom Elos would bring.”

“Each night he would come to the door with a frustrated look in his eyes, or maybe be apologetic. When he asked for help for his new friend, I always gave him a hard time. I'd say `Not again!'.”

“I began to enjoy helping. I began to enjoy life again. I began to hear the birds sing. I stopped to watch little children play."

As Elissa talked, Elos watched her only in his heart. He remembered the many hours of talking with her. He recalled the strength she seemed to pour into his soul to keep him going. Now he could clearly see her face in his heart's eye as she spoke words he could not find.

"When Elos said he had to come back here and tell you about his failure, I cried. He was embarrassed. He was frustrated.”

“I knew he hadn't failed. He had not failed because at least he changed me. My life was entirely new. I have new hope.”

“Jesus, you changed Elos. You changed his life into something new, and exciting, and wonderful. When you did, you changed my life.”

“So I had to come, because Elos didn't know how he changed my life. He came to Scythopolis just for me. Other people there needed you. You would never see them. He came to Scythopolis just for me, and it's through him I know you, Jesus."

Elos felt the tears running down his cheeks, but no one saw them. Just then some disciples came up the hill to Jesus and the second twelve.

"This is what's left of the food. Enough for everyone here. We don't understand. We started with just a little bit, and started feeding people. Now we have more than we did when we started. We don't understand."

Jesus smiled and replied "I think Elissa does. I think Elissa understands."

Assyrian Creation Story

Enuma Elish

When on High

Karl Evans


From about the time of Ezekiel
Adapted by Dr. Karl Evans
from the work of Dr. Pritchard, Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testaments, and many others.

Sometimes we wonder what difference it makes
What religion we follow,
What beliefs we hold.

Does it matter whether we are Methodist,
Or even Christian, or Muslim or Parsi?
Perhaps there is no difference?

Perhaps it makes no difference what we believe.
Perhaps it makes no difference why we are created,
Or what we believe about our creator.
Perhaps it makes no difference,
The state of the mind of the Creator
At the moment of creation.
We say that sometimes.
But I don't know.
I don't know.

Now our nation is locked into a battle with other nations,
Nations from which our forefathers sprang,
Nations that was the birthplace of Abraham,
The bonds-places of Isaiah, and of Ezekiel,
the home of Babylon and its tower.

When Ezekiel and the people were in slavery there,
Two and a half millennia ago
Ezekiel saw the erosion of the faith.
He saw the ritual
That awful ritual,
That defined the lives of the people of Babylon
on the first day of the
New Year on the tower, that awful place,
the ziggurat,
the holy place of the Babylonians.

Thousands of Babylonians sang and chanted
While standing on the steps of the Ziggurat.
Thousands stood waiting, waiting and listening
For the blessing of the Story of Creation,
For the blessing of being Babylonian.

Ezekiel was confounded by what he saw.
He saw that all the youth of Israel were tempted to join the
Babylonians on the slopes of the Ziggurat.
He knew the story that would be told there,
About the creation.

But there would be no Yahweh
No ancient Lord of Israel,
No remembering the faith
of the Wandering Arameans
who left this place fifteen hundred years before.

Ezekiel knew the citizens of Babylon,
And all those who wished to turn their backs
On the faith of their fathers,
the ancient ones,
Would be there to become as one of the Babylonians
By listening to this story.

They would become as one of the Babylonians,
Free to own land,
Free to marry those cute Babylonian girls,
Free to get a loan at the bank,
By going to the Ziggurat on the first day of the New Year,
By listening to the story,
And allowing the drops of ritual blood to fall on them.

When the children of Israel
Stood on the terraces of the Ziggurat,
This is the story they would hear
That would change them from Israelites
To Babylonians.

Let it be its own witness.
Let it reveal to you the truths of Yahweh and the Creation,
Let it reveal by speaking what is not the truth.
Let it speak by its lies and deceits. Hear,
and understand in your heart
the struggle of Ezekiel.

When on High the heavens had not been named,
Before the fog and mist was brought to order,
Before firm ground had been called forth and named,
There were only two--
By name,
Apsu, the sire of all that was to be,
And Mother Tiamat, she who bore all life in her womb.

The fresh waters of Apsu, the begetter,
And the marine waters of Mother Tiamat,
Commingled together as a single body,
There was no separation between them.
There was no firmness anywhere.
There was not so much as marsh land
In the mist that was their being.

Then it happened that the gods were formed within them,
Gods and goddesses were brought forth,
Being named and ordered by Apsu and Mother Tiamat.

The first of them were formed, Anshar and Kishar by name,
Called before all others.
And Anshar and Kishar lived long and well.

Their child was Anu, the equal of Anshar and Kishar,
The equal of all before him.
The Heir-child of Anu was Nudimmud,
Not the equal of his fathers,
But the master of his fathers
And his fathers' fathers.

Nudimmud was one of broad wisdom,
Understanding,
Mighty in strength.
He was mightier by far than his grandfather, Anshar.
Nudimmud had no rival among the other gods, his brothers.

Nudimmud was leader among the gods,
Chief among the pack, chief at the party.
Nudimmud and his brothers ran and shouted back and forth
Among the mists of all that was.
One day they partied and laughed,
On another day they fought and cried the cries of battle.
Every day they were loud,
Strong in their disturbance of Tiamat, the mother god..

By their loudness and their laughter and their youthful cries
They disturbed the mood of Tiamat as they surged
Back and forth, back and forth.

Apsu, the father of their fathers,
Chided them strongly for their loudness.
"Pipe down in there!
Have a little respect for your elders."
Tiamat was beside herself at their ways,
These young gods and goddesses, their seed.
Their actions were loathsome to her.
Unsavory were their ways,
They were overbearing in their manner,
Rebellious children.

Then Apsu called his wizard, saying
"You who makes my spirit sing,
Let us go talk to Tiamat!"
Together they went to the beautiful Tiamat,
The mother of all gods and goddesses.

Apsu spoke words of anger and bitterness.
"I find their ways repugnant and stupid.
There is no relief during the day
And I cannot rest by night.

I will destroy them,
I will wreck their ways
That quiet may be restored.
Let us have rest!" said Apsu.

Hearing this, Tiamat raged at Apsu.
"What is this?
Should we destroy all that we have built?
These are our children!
We will be kind and gentle with them."

Then the wizard spoke to Apsu.
His advice was evil and self-serving.
"Destroy them and their mutinous ways.
Then you will have relief both by day and by night."

And Apsu's face grew red with rage at what he planned
Against his sons and daughters.

Now, whatever Apsu and Tiamat plotted between them
Was repeated to the gods, the children of Apsu and Tiamat.
When the child-gods heard these things,
They became frightened,
Then fell into silence and remained speechless.

But one of the gods, surpassing all others in wisdom,
Experienced in power and in resourcefulness,
His name was Ea,
He saw through their scheme.
Ea designed a master design, bold and daring,
And by his powers set it into the whole scheme of being so That none could set it aside or depart from it.

Ea made Apsu sleep the non-waking sleep,
The sleep of too much wine..
With Apsu asleep, the wizard was unable to stir,
For his being resulted only from the mind of Apsu.
After Ea chained Apsu,
Ea took the crown from the head of Apsu
And placed it on his own head.
He took the cosmic halo
And wrapped it around his own brow.

Having thus bound Apsu,
Ea slew his father's father.

Then there was peace for a time.

Ea and his Bride, Damkina,
Dwelled in peace in the holy house
Built on the rounded belly,
the top of the body of Apsu,
The body on which we stand today.
This body, the Great Height of Babylon.

Now, in this holy house,
The sacred home on the holy hill,
Was created a god,
The most able and wise of the gods.

Marduk was his name.
Nursed by the most becoming of the goddesses,
Marduk was rendered perfect in awesomeness,
Strong in his walk, alluring in his figure,
Sparkling the lift of his eyes.

There was no disfigurement to see or to control him by.
Four were his eyes, four were his ears,
Seeing all things and hearing all things.
When he moved his lips,
Fire blazed forth.

Damkina his mother cried out
"My Son! My Son!
My Son, the Sun of the Heavens!"

The child-gods looked among themselves
For a champion,
A hero to battle the awesome Tiamat, their mother.

And Marduk was named to be King,
Conferred with scepter, throne and robe.
They said to Marduk,
"Go and cut off the life of Tiamat.
Sever her into many pieces!
May the winds bear her parts to places unknown!"

Then Marduk laid his face to disturb Tiamat,
The mother of gods,
To wrest from her the last knot of power.

Marduk called forth the storms to disturb Tiamat,
For the gods have no sleep in the storm.

And the words came to Tiamat,
"Watch what Marduk is doing!
When they slew Apsu, your lover,
You did not aid him but lay still.

Because you lay still, and did not stir,
Your lover Apsu was destroyed.
Now Marduk has brought the mighty storm to disturb you,
And there is no rest.
There is none other. You are left alone.
Let Apsu, your lover, be avenged!"

So Tiamat chose from among her own assembled gods,
Her first-born,
A council for battle, and a leader.
This leader was one Kingu, given all power in council.
"Your command shall be unchangeable,
Your word shall endure."
Tiamat set Kingu up as her son, her heir,
In command of all things.
Kingu began to prepare for battle,
Calling from all the council of Tiamat their advice.

From Mother Hubur, who fashions all things,
Tiamat gathered matchless weapons.
Only Mother Hubur could make them,
These master tools of violence.

Tiamat bore monster-serpents with sharp teeth
And long fangs, filled with venom.
Tiamat clothed roaring dragons with terror,
Making them like gods,
So that all who look upon them will die.
She set up the Viper,
The Dragon,
And the Sphinx.
She called for the Great Lion,
The Mad Dog,
And the Scorpion-man,
The Centaur,
Weapons that spare not.

Thus Tiamat prepared to avenge her lover, Apsu,
To make her own peace by destroying her own children.

And thus it came that the battle to be fought,
Came to be fought between Tiamat, the mother of gods,
And Marduk,
Merodach-bashan, to those who read the Old Testament.
It was a battle long on power and on brutality,
A battle not ever to be matched
among those who survived the first..

Marduk and Tiamat fought with demons and dragons,
Powers and beasts,
With sharp teeth and clashing fang.

With loud roars,
Marduk threw lightning bolts through the skies at Tiamat.
With shrieks of anger,
Tiamat tore at Marduk
With her Scorpion-man
And with her Mad Dog.

Then at last Tiamat opened her mouth with a rage,
To the roots of her legs she shook,
Casting leave of her senses.

Tiamat prepared to consume Marduk,
So wide open was her mouth.

Marduk seized the moment,
The decisive moment of the universe,
Drove the tornado into her mouth
So she could not close it.
Her body was distended by the force of the wind.
He slew her with an arrow formed of the lightning,
A flash of fire, a spear formed of the heat of the sun.

Casting her down.
Marduk slew her there.
Marduk slit her body open as a clamshell,
Half of which he posted as the earth,
Holding the waters of Apsu and Tiamat.
Half the body of Tiamat
Marduk made to be the sky.
Marduk named the years and the days.
Marduk set up the seasons and the constellations.
He set the moon ablaze at night.

And then Marduk announce his grandest plan.
"Blood I will mass, and cause bones to be.
I will establish a savage, Man shall be his name.
He will do the work for the gods,
That the gods will be at ease.
For we are gods, and labor should not be our lot.
But one of the gods must die
That the rest of us might live.

Ea, the father of Marduk, spoke to Marduk,
Pleased by the plan for the relief of the gods.
"Let but one of the gods be handed over.
He alone shall perish that mankind may be fashioned.
Let us call the gods into assembly,
And let the god who is guilty before all be handed over
That the others may endure."

In the assembly, the gods cried out,
“It was not I!
It was Kingu!
It was Kingu who brought the uprising,
Who caused the battle!"

They brought poor Kingu before Ea
Who pronounced the guilt
And the condemnation of Kingu.
They opened his blood vessels
And as his blood fell freely in drops to the earth,
Full of the very passion of the gods,
The vision of the gods for tomorrow,
Full of the power of the gods,
The blood was fashioned into humankind,
By the addition of the ways of death
And uncertain knowledge
And humankind became a reality
For the service of the gods.
For the eternal service of the gods.

And it came to pass that humankind,
To this day,
Is called to serve the gods.

Humankind is named from the blood of Kingu
To plow the fields and irrigate the crops,
To harvest the crops,
To build temples for the glory of the gods,
And to bring to these temples
The best of the produce of the fields
That the gods might be satisfied
And rage and battle no more.

And when the old year and all persons die,
The blood of Kingu will scatter upon the earth,
And you will come again to life
And yet again will the gods be satisfied
By your labors.

And as the priest finished reciting the story of the creation,
He gathered up his container of wine,
Shaking it against the skies,
Letting the drops of blood-red liquid fall among the crowd
Gathered on the slopes of the Tower.
And the drops were brought into new life in the persons on whom they fell,
New life to serve the gods,
The citizenship of the nation,
For the service of the gods.

Let no one assume, now,
That the people of Iraq still share that ancient myth.
Today, even the people of Iraq,
Devout Muslims, many,
Strong in their faith,
Have a creation story that is different--
Quite different--
From the one I have just told you.
They have turned their backs on this old story--
Indeed, most of them abandoned it long ago.

Let us consider the new story they have chosen
To establish the relationship between human beings and god,
The god they know as Allah.

Let me read to you just a bit of this story.

In the Beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth,
And the earth was without form and void, adrift in the mist.
And darkness was upon the face of the deep waters. ......

Sound Familiar? It should.

The Scriptures of Islam and the Scriptures
Of Judaism and Christianity are together
Until we reach the story of Hagar and Ishmael.

Then let me read to you something that is said later.
Coming from the covenant God makes with the People,
Who live out this story of life and covenant.

God loved the people of the world so much
that he gave the life of his only son
That whoever lives and has faith with him
might not perish but have eternal life.

The Brothers

The Brothers

(all rights reserved)

Karl Evans

O Cain. Sad Cain.
Cain who was born first of the brothers.
Cain who knew the blessings of birthright and name.

Now, without doubt,
Cain was a good man.
Hardworking farmer,
Backbreaking labor,
Breaking up the virgin earth to plant seeds and chop weeds and harvest crops.

Not a loud-mouthed braggart as some would suppose,
But a man of steady heart and bronzed arms and dusty hair and tired muscles.

But crops are slow in coming to glory,
Slow to turn the sun and sweat to gold and green.
Except for new potatoes the first fruits of the soil are rarely good,
rarely sweet and choice.
Rather, it is the fruit of the peak of the harvest
That wins the prize at the county fair and turns the mouths of the satisfied to drooling.

But the response one is called to make to the Creator is to bring to the Maker the first fruits.

And Abel. Doomed Abel.
Abel, the second son,
The one with nothing at stake.
The one with no birthright,
No land, no home.

Abel is an exile, One with no fields.
One with no fields becomes a hunter,
A worker with roaming animals, a shepherd by necessity.
Abel wanders with his flock of sheep
And when the sheep brings forth a lamb Abel brings that little bleating, nestling, suckling pile of skin and bones to God as offering.

Have you ever seen a day-old lamb?
Have you ever held one in your arms--
Had it look into your face with innocence and beauty?
Felt its pounding heart against your own?

You know, then, the heart of God.
Who among the loving gods could put the lamb down?
Who could ignore the curly wool,
The wondering eyes,
the warm body--
And turn then to nestling a sheaf of wheat,
an ear of corn,
a box of apples,
a bale of hay?

O Cain, sad Cain.
Your best has been brought side by side with that of baby brother.
Baby brother gets the blue,
You get the red.
Just the red.

No matter, Cain, that you have the name and the birthright
And the fields and the muscles.
No matter that Abel has only a few sheep and a bow and arrow.

Cain, sad Cain,
Your brother has the spotlight,
That which is yours of right.
No matter your crops are growing and yet to come on in beauty.
No matter the hard work ahead that will feed you both through the long cold winter.

No matter Abel is your brother,
Shared the same womb,
Suckled the same breasts.
Your brother dies at your hand,
O Cain, sad Cain.

All is lost.
Now you have no brother, Cain.
More than this,
You have no land, your home
Your firepit shall lie in ruins, sad Cain.

But more!
From the face of God you shall be hidden, Cain,
From seeing the smile,
From hearing the laugh.
And those hands, Cain--
Those hands that formed you from the clay

and laid you in your mother's womb--
You shall not lay into those hands your first-fruits of the ground!

Shall you be forever nothing, sad Cain?
But no!
Sad Cain, I promise 'tis not so!
Though you be adrift from fields of right
The God of Grace goes with you.
As your parents did before you
You have chosen to be cut off, sad Cain,
cut off from the face of God!

But who is that beside you, Cain?
Who is that who reaches out the hand for yours?
By your side moves the face of God,
Beloved Cain;
You shall not be cut off!

And is this not reward enough already,
That God is yet among us?
That added fame and wealth need not be sought,
For God is yet among us?
Bury your face in the shoulder, Cain,
Cry the tears of Joy.
Let your heart beat gently, Cain,
For God is yet among us.

Stories That Heal

Welcome to the Bible Story Blog. Over fifty years of amateur and professional ministry I have told many stories. That is what you will find here. Stories. I hope you will read and respond to them. I appreciate whatever you have to say. When I throw the words to the winds, they no longer belong to me, but to the hearer or reader.

When these words are in your mind and heart, you will respond somehow to them. You are a slave to them. They will change you somehow.

So read, think, enjoy, and let me know how the story shapes your life. The only question that matters is how the story shapes your life. Do not ask about historical narratives. Only make comments from your own heart about validity, meaning and value.

The question of validity is first. Does the story reflect the truth of the world in some way? How? Second, what does this truth mean to you, to your relationships with others, to your image of yourself? Third, how strong is this meaning, and does it really change you? These are the only questions to ask of a story.

Karl Evans


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