Creation

Adam and Eve
by
Karl C. Evans
2007

There was a time God breathed into the Man the breath of life. The first human came to know what it was to be alive. There was a garden to explore. There were stars to watch. There were clouds to consider. There were all good things to do.

But God wanted to share creation with the Man. God wanted to share not only creation itself. God chose to share even creative activity and emotion with the created one. Almost – everything was to be shared. Sharing is very good.

So God paraded all the animals in front of the man to see what the Man would name them. This sharing of names would be very good. They could laugh a little, and dream a little.

One animal the man called `Lion'. Another, the Man called `Dog'. Yet another the Man called `hippo – '...no, not `hippopotamus'. That one he called `rhinoceros'. It looked more like a rhinoceros than a hippopotamus. But there are hippopotamuses and rhinoceri – or is it hippopotami and rhinoceroses?

Finally, all the animals had been named. God looked around, carefully. God saw that Man was alone, even yet. That was not good. It was the desire of God that all things should be good for Man.

God sensed the loneliness of Man. God knew that feeling of loneliness, coming up from deep within.

You see, God always wanted someone to love. God had a great desire to fulfill the great capacity for love God felt in the sacred heart. This love, the desire to do for another whatever would be best for them, should be fulfilled. It was the Master's plan. The great over-flowing source that welled up from within the heart of the one called God should be fulfilled. God should find a lover.

It was God's notion that one day there would be another. A being would come to life to whom God could relate the sacred name. That sacred name, given the Creator by the Creator, was the most important word of all Creation. It cried out the very essence of the Divine Being – `I-Will-Risk-My-Very-Being-On-Your-Behalf'. "I will do everything I can for you even though it may cost me everything!"

In Hebrew, we call this name "Yahweh". It is the word which speaks of this willingness to sacrifice for us. This Yahweh is the One you and I call `God'.

God thought and thought about the man, Adam. One night, Yahweh helped Adam sleep a very deep sleep. God gently took a rib from Adam's side. God carefully carried it down by the river bank.

Then God began to pack mud around the rib until God had created Woman, a person of beauty and strength and sensitivity, but different from Adam. From that day to this women have tried to improve on God's work of beauty by using more and more mud packs.

God created Eve to receive the same love that Adam received, and to share love both with God and with Adam. This was the first love triangle. It was very good.

Now Adam and Eve made their home in a beautiful garden. In the midst of that garden rose a bubbling spring. This spring never stopped flowing. It overflowed like the cup of God's love.
From the bubbling waters of that spring rose the headwaters of the four rivers of the earth. The rivers were teeming with fish and frogs and water-skippers and crawdads.

Between the banks of the rivers rose all the vegetation of the earth. There were pine trees and poplars, bamboo and tumbleweeds, bluegrass and roses.

As Adam and Eve stood on the bank of one of those rivers in the early morning, they could survey all that God had done in ordering Creation. The splendor of Yahweh's creation on their behalf filled their hearts with awe and reverence. Their voices would sound beyond the range of the garden as they sang together:

O Lord my god, when I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds thy hands have made;
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, my saviour God to Thee
How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my saviour God to Thee
How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
(Boberg, Carl. Translated by Stuart A Hine. "How Great Thou Art" (Nashville: The Methodist Publishing House 1966)

But not all life held only a sense of majesty and awe. There was a sense of closeness, of warmth, of caring between God and Adam and Eve. And fun. They joked about the size God had made the giraffe's neck. They laughed at boxing kangaroos and they cuddled koala bears.

Occasionally a light-hearted mood would come over Adam and he would sing a little song that has become a theme song for politicians and television evangelists.

O Lord, it's hard to be humble
When you're perfect in every way.
I can't wait to look in a mirror.
I get better lookin' each day.
To know me is to love me....
(Oh, Lord, It’s Hard To Be Humble)

And just as God smiled often in the process of ordering Creation, now God smiled again. This was not a smile such as you might see on the evangelist who just saw a thousand-dollar bill in the collection plate. It was not the smile on the face of Grandma when Johnny breaks a centuries-old vase.

God smiled that deep loving and caring smile. God enjoyed the openness and humor and the loving nature of these Ones for whom God was prepared to lay the Sacred Existence on the line. Everything was shared, and open, lit by the radiance of their relationship.

In the evening the three of them would walk arm in arm around the garden, talking about every little event of the day. God relished every moment of this. It was a fulfillment of creative love between them as they walked and talked. This little doe deer was now apparently pregnant.

This rabbit had moved to a new home, a home not threatened by the fox or by the dog.

And when the evening was done, as the fireflies sparkled across their path, Adam and Eve would make their farewell with Yahweh – a hug and a "Good night!" – and settle into good, sound, restful sleep.

Now in the midst of the garden stood two trees. Yahweh had told Adam and Eve that they were not to eat the fruit that abounded on these trees. God had not really given them a reason for the prohibition. There was nothing but trust and openness between them. If God said they were not to eat the fruit of the trees, they didn't eat the fruit of the trees. That was all. Period.

But inside Eve something was gnawing, gnawing the way a tiny termite soon destroys and devours a mansion. A question, a wondering, a searching.....

One night, after the evening walk with God and while the fireflies still made their minute torches seen through the garden, Eve spoke. Quietly, almost with a touch of pain.

"Adam, I've been thinking. You know those two trees near the spring? The ones with the beautiful fruit that God has said we are supposed to avoid?"

Now Adam, lying there with Eve close beside, had nearly gone to sleep in the stillness, but now he was wide awake. Something in Eve's voice warned him of things to come. Something dreaded, something....

"Yes, Eve, I know them."

"Adam, I wonder how they would taste?"

"We'll probably never know, Eve."

"Adam, I wonder what might happen if we ate some of the fruit? I mean, really, what would happen?"

"Well, I really don't know. I cannot imagine that God would let anything hurt us, except when we stub our toe or something."

Again there was a long silence before Eve spoke again. Adam knew his thoughts were echoing hers. "Let's go have some of that fruit. What could it hurt, if God doesn't find out?"
"I suppose that's true. What could it hurt?"

By morning, as the light began to appear over the horizon, over the top of the very tree from which they had eaten, Adam and Eve had still not slept. Together they had lain in the darkness frozen by the awareness of their deeds. The fruit had been sweet, and warm, and had felt good in their stomachs.

But now with that satisfaction, Adam and Eve lay together, close, but could not touch in the night.

Their hearts were cold, and the sweat that poured from their brows was not from the heat. Oh, they were still alive. They now knew there was no great immediate death awaiting them. The tree was not poison. It brought no physical pain.

Their problem was not something the fruit of the tree had brought. They had brought it themselves. They had done something only with themselves. They had shared an event with each other. They knew some moments of time they could not share with their Creator....

This God, who had created them just in order to have someone to receive the love...

This God, who had begun to fulfill the Name that was to be the Divine Calling Card...

This God who loved them and relished every living moment with them...

This God, who risked the very existence of Creation on the potential relationship between Man, and Woman, and God....

They could no longer share every moment with God.

In the early light their eyes met and then turned away. For the first time they saw each other as they really were...unfaithful, untrusting, and...apart. They could not bear the thought of having the other see them in their separation. They turned away from each other.

Through the whole day they hid, afraid to be seen by the other. How they longed for the touch of the other, longed for the words from the other that would make everything all right. Both listening. Both afraid.

The Garden was quiet. No laughter. No raucous singing of being humble. Even the birds didn't sing. The pigs didn't grunt. The lions didn't even purr. Even the earthworms tried to quiet their gentle movements....

In the evening, God came to the center of the garden, knowing something was wrong.

"Adam. Eve."

"Adam! Eve!"

"Adam!! Eve!!"

The words rang and hissed through the garden, filling every clearing among the trees just as the thunder after a close lightning strike. When they heard the voice of God, Adam and Eve took some leaves from the fig tree and made clothes that hid themselves.

"Adam!! Eve!!"

Adam and Eve heard, and came, and looked down. They studied the ground in front of God.
Now perhaps what God did next was the second hardest thing God ever did. But there was no choice. Adam and Eve had chosen to be apart from God, to have events and thoughts and dreams in their lives that they could not and would not share with their Creator and Lover.

Because God was betting everything, risking it all on them, God gave them what they had chosen.

As they walked toward the gate, God did what could be done. God took flower petals from the vines and added them to the clothing they had made for each other.

"You will need all the beauty in your life you can get. No one need ever see your shame, or your apartness. If it is your choice, no one need ever see your alienation from each other or from me. Those who come after you, if they choose to be apart from me, it will not be because of your example. It will be because they choose it for themselves. But I will go with you, and be near to you, unless you tell me to leave."

And Adam and Eve walked out the gates of the garden. Their eyes were down, blurred and unseeing. As they walked, the whole garden of trees and plants and grass and animals and bugs and birds sang a prayer for them:

Someone's crying, Lord, come by here.
Someone's crying, Lord, come by here.
Someone's crying, Lord, come by here.
Oh, Lord, come by here. (Kum Ba Yah)

The Frustrated Parade Marshall

The Frustrated Parade Marshall

Matthew 21:1-18
Karl Evans

This fellow was with Jesus since the earliest days of the movement, from the days in Galilee. He was not the first to come on board, however. He was just certainly one of the first and one of the most devoted.

Our hero had at first been an outsider. He was something of a loner. After time and after putting a great effort into Jesus' work he was finally a trusted part of the inner circle.

Now, on the long trip to Jerusalem, he was able to showcase his work. His ability to handle details of lodging and housing and support was really beginning to pay off. He seemed to have an uncanny ability to find just the right accommodations. This kept the tiny band of wanderers from coming unglued entirely.

His work was unsung. Few apart from Jesus paid any attention to his successes and his toil. But he knew slowly and surely he was working his way into a position of strength within the group. This was important.

As the little band gathered in every town, people came to see Jesus. They wanted healing, or to be seen with Jesus, or to challenge his authority. They wanted to invite him to their home for dinner or to spend the night.

First, though, anyone who wanted to see Jesus had to deal with this fellow. He had things organized and wanted to keep them that way. He had an elaborate little system of procedures, simple yet adequate. This kept things on an even keel.

These procedures also helped ensure when they left even the larger towns such as Jericho the same small band went on together. Thus they left behind the citizens of the smaller towns to wonder who had really been among them.

When they were out on the road again, there was work to do. Our hero would pick up the pieces and get the group ready for the next town. He would tell them what the town was like, who was important and who was not. He would go to various disciples and tell them about a specific person they might try to find and talk with.

Then, while the group was in town, our man double-checked everyone's assignments, then began to prepare for the next community. He had worked all these communities before in the short period of time he had traded in the area. He personally knew just about every important person in the nation. Now he had an opportunity to put those old acquaintanceships to good purpose. He was very good at what he did. Jesus knew he needed this man for the mission.

Jerusalem was a huge challenge. It was much larger than the other towns they visited, larger even than Jericho. There was more wealth, more power, many more self-claimed important people. There would be many persons resistant to being moved around by a forceful intruder from the north.

But it was not an impossible task. Judas knew he was up to it. With any kind of luck the little group would survive Jerusalem in good order. They would make their visit to the Temple, burn their incense and call it a day. They would sacrifice a dove or two or perhaps a lamb during the Passover festival. They might even celebrate the Passover together as a family before they left town.

Our man knew it was critical to be ready to leave quickly. But he also knew it was important to Jesus and the others to be in Jerusalem at Passover.

"Next year in Jerusalem!" This had been the rallying cry of the Hebrews at Passover since the days of the Captivity. Dozens of generations of families have gone by since the captivity. Yet many families had not seen any family member able to stand at the Temple during these holy days. Many of these men and women would never have another opportunity.

This was the great opportunity, and it would be done properly if everyone would just stay in step.

Probably the person who was most likely to get out of line was Jesus himself. He had a way of doing things on his own which frustrated the best of plans. But one could not complain too much. After all, he was what this whole parade was about.

But our man was confident. Had he not brought the group this far safely? His plans were ready. Even the procession to the Temple was in order. First, two or three of the disciples would come carrying banners proclaiming the salvation of the nation.

Then the other disciples would come walking in order of age. Our man tried to come up with a marching order that recognized some criteria of rank within the organization. He deserved to lead it, but he knew the others would not go for this. Their egalitarian spirit deeply frustrated him.

But populism would be all right in this instance. The disciples would be moving around greeting people and letting the world know their faces. They would kiss the babies and tease the children. They might even carry a banner proclaiming "This year in Jerusalem!".

Then Jesus would come riding a chariot our friend had arranged with a local friendly chariot rental service. There would be none of the rent-a-junker stuff, either. This had to be first class.

Then the women and anyone else of lower class who wanted to join in would come at the end.

Then on to the Temple. There the great welcome would spontaneously erupt when the crowd recognized who was coming.

Oh, yes, our hero. He would not be directly in the parade. He was much too busy for participation. Besides, marching was for the ordinary folk, like Simon and James. Our man still had trouble with the nickname Jesus had placed on Simon. Jesus used the silly word "Peter." Calling him "The Rock" seemed to refer more to the state of Simon's mind than anything else.

But with the procession, our hero would march proudly, moving forward and back. He would walk slightly to the side, keeping the whole organization in order. Someone had to check the timing and speed and discipline for maximum crowd effect. He would watch the faces of the crowd, checking for responses.

Of course, they would probably ask him to sign a few autographs. He wouldn’t really mind.

But wouldn't you know it. Some things went wrong and our hero was nearly frantic.

First, the chariot wasn't there on time. Jesus insisted on riding a donkey which one disciple found tied at the gate of the city. Oh, the horror of it! The Son of Man, the King of the Jews, riding a jackass! This embarrassment rather than the royal $400 per hour chariot which they had already contracted!

This was not a typical Jerusalem crowd. The Jews had an ancient rallying cry of the people at Passover, "Next year in Jerusalem." Many people in the distant towns took being in Jerusalem at this time of year very seriously.

Then, because they came as pilgrims, the additional crowd of beggars and thieves and pickpockets showed up to conduct their own businesses. Others brought out trinkets and fast food and hats and even palm branches to sell to the pilgrims headed for the Temple. Pilgrims have always been an easy mark.

In the milling around, in the confusion, the crowd started gathering without any order. The disciples who were supposed to lead the procession lost their banners to beggars looking for clothing. These people would steal anything!

The disciples were forced to tear some palm branches off the closest trees just to have something to wave.

Worse than that, by the time they got the branches cleaned and ready, Jesus had already started his donkey ride up the street. Jesus was just beginning to press his way through the mob of people. These were not the dignitaries of the city who should have been at the parade. Rather, they were riffraff who gathered just to see what the excitement was. The disciples could only follow along and wave their palm branches in the air.

Other people saw the branches. Some thought this looked like a good thing. It was a traditional parade activity for the Jews, of course. Boys quickly scampered up the trees and cut more branches to sell to the parade watchers for waving and for fanning themselves.

Soon the whole mob was just sort of slowly stampeding its way toward the Temple. It moved at the slow pace of a less-than-eager donkey. At first, no one really knew why they were going to the Temple.

All the slogans our hero had drilled into the disciples were lost. The disciples scattered among the crowd of tourists and beggars and palm branch sellers. Finally someone picked up an easy one which seemed to stick. Shouts of "Hosanna!" and "Here comes the King" sounded through the crowd. Then the crowd began to suspect the meaning of the parade.
It's easy to join in a parade as long as you are not the one who has to pay if the revolution fails.

Our poor hero, now just struggling to keep up with the crowd, was simply lost. All his planning, all his struggles were wasted. They trampled all his weeks of thought and preparation for this day under the feet of these undisciplined new followers of Jesus. They didn't even know his name!

Our man was heartbroken. He began to make rude comments about the clumsy newcomers who had made the parade their parade. He scorned the wandering disciples who wouldn't help him get things organized.

This illiterate mob with no sense of timing was destroying all of Jesus' work. They simply had no idea what was appropriate action around the Son of Man. He might be the King of the Jews, the One who rightfully belonged on the throne, but the crowd did not know how to treat him.

Our hero began to curse this mob which forced him out to the sidelines. They pushed and shoved as they tried to get closer to the one who would bring in the Kingdom of God.

Judas cried "But this isn't right! Get back in line! This is supposed to be a royal parade. It is certainly not a street dance after a victory by some foreign gladiators!"

Grabbing and holding, trying to make people follow the pattern he had so carefully laid out, he failed. Judas couldn't get these new followers of Jesus to fit the patterns of the well-planned parade. Our hero became so frustrated he wanted to shake from his feet the dust of the whole mess.

At last one woman who had been trying to get past our man for several minutes lost her patience. As the parade moved yelled in his ear, she yelled at Judas. The whole crowd could have heard her voice. "If you don't want to move along with Jesus, stand aside. Don't block the parade! Don't block those of us who want to be with him! If you do want to move with Jesus, join the parade. Don't gripe about it! Join the parade or move over!"

What? Join the parade? An invitation to join the parade? Our hero who had masterminded the whole thing?

Our hero who had laid the best plans, although circumstances had forced them to be laid aside?

Our hero who had been with the group from the beginning? Someone who had been a follower of Jesus for less than ten minutes was now telling our hero to join the parade?

They were ignoring our hero with deep credentials of long standing. They were pushing the months of trial serving Jesus and his ministry aside.

Now, with the rabble clearly taking over the procession, Judas had to act. The rabble was indeed taking over the entire process of Jesus’ ministry. He would have to force the crowd and Jesus to make the shift. They must move from operating as a rampaging mob to being a steady governing body for the New Kingdom.

It seemed to him the only way to do this was to shock this crowd to its senses. They needed to be brought to their knees by some great miraculous event.

He had seen Jesus do miracles. He had seen the lame walk, and the blind see. He had been there at the feeding of the five thousand. He knew what Jesus could do, if Jesus were forced.

But here was the problem. Jesus would have to be forced to perform the greatest miracle of all time. This would bring the whole nations to its knees in front before its new king.

So our hero made his plan, laying out in his minds the actions and responses which would finally lead to this great miracle. There would have to be a trial, perhaps even an attempted execution. But there, at the last second, Jesus would save himself. When Jesus would walk away, everyone everywhere would finally know this One was the rightful King of the Jews.

The confusion and clamor of the rabble grew as they escorted Jesus to the great temple of the Lord. Quietly, Judas Iscariot drifted away from the disciples and made his way to the High Priests.

Words of Fire

Words of Fire

Luke 19:45-47

Karl Evans

Geminel stood silently before the altar of the Temple. His eyes fogged absently as they took in the fire of the altar. It blazed and cooled, rose and fell as the priests fed it with the sacrifices.

The men of Israel had gently laid their living sacrifices in the hands of the priests. The priest had the responsibility of the last few moments of the sacrifices. Before the fire consumed the animals, their lives were in the hands of the priests. Using the ancient rituals, the priests carefully kill the sacrifices. Then the men of Yahweh said the appropriate prayers and placed the gift on the fire.

These priests worked with a show and reality of deep reverence and respect. They had been selected from their own communities as a gift of honor. The temple guild called them into this position only a few times in a lifetime of service.

Out in the courtyard, the scene was quite different. Far less reverence and respect showed among the peddlers. Many who came from far places expected to pay for their trip by hawking their wares. They sold sacrifices and keepsakes, food and clothing to the pilgrims coming through to worship.

"Get your sacrifices here! Get your doves! Two spotless doves for twenty-five dollars. I just brought these in this morning. My boys have been raising them for pets. Guaranteed no blemishes!" Of course, the doves were usually purchased from Jerusalem youth in the last few days.

"A-number one ram here for the sacrifice! Only five hundred dollars! Only one left in all of Jerusalem!"

The prices asked for the sacrifices by those who bought and sold there shocked Geminel. It seemed almost too much money changed hands.

How could it be theologically correct? How could it be an act of faith? Must the proper sacrifice to God operate on a bottom line cash basis only?

This time, Geminel himself had done what most of the poorer pigeon vendors did to get their pigeons. He had gone at night out into the city in the late dusk. Stealthy moves allowed him to catch two good pigeons sitting on their roosts.

By faint lamplight, Geminel hurriedly inspected them for flaws. These two looked all right. No broken wings or legs. The feathers were in good shape. Best of all, they were free. No feeding. No wholesaler to pay. They would have to do.

Now, with daylight came the morning business. Men and boys whom he had seen out scouring the town for roosting pigeons last night had brought in their unfortunate captives. Now the trappers were selling them at the Temple for outrageous prices.

The people who had actually raised pigeons could command huge prices for the birds. They had invested time and feed in them, and did so to make a profit. They could sell spotless birds to the wealthiest pilgrims. The best birds brought great profits to the entrepreneurs.

The scavengers like Geminel, though, had no investment other than the few minutes it took to grab the birds from the roosts. These were the ones who were ripping off the poorer pilgrims and the less devout. Many of these latter travelers had come from as far as Spain, or India, or Russia to offer sacrifices at the Temple.

Now at the climax of their journey, their own fatigue and the high pressure tactics of the traders took many of them in. This being the case, the pilgrims often offered less than perfect animals at the altar. The priests, fully aware of the problems of pilgrimage and language difficulties, generally looked the other way. No points would be made by embarrassing a traveler. That traveler might not be particularly friendly later to a supplier of inadequate products for holy sacrifice. No one wanted trouble here.

Geminel knelt in prayer at the Temple steps. He tried to avoid the hubbub around him. Concentrating on his prayer, Geminel vowed purity in his heart and commitment to the Messiah. Then Geminel rose in his turn. He stood in the line for a priests to take his two pigeons and ritually slaughter them. Then, after carefully inspecting their insides, the priest burned them as an offering to the Lord.

The flames rose and fell as they consumed the sacrifices. Occasionally a priest added wood brought by faithful pilgrims from their homes. Temple workers brought some wood from forests of the nation.

Geminel looked around at all those who were in the Temple with him. Dozens of people gathered for sacred rituals. Some came as priests. Some came as worshipers. Some came to make money. Some wanted to relieve boredom. Some came to bargain with the Lord for health or wealth or safety.

Everyone there hoped to profit somehow from something which might happen at the Temple. The profit might be money for the traders or for the priests. It might be some better gift from God for the worshiper. Or, it might be just some excitement in life. But something could probably be provided for almost every pilgrim.

Some were wealthy or tried to pretend they were. Some were poor, or tried to convince the thieves they were. Geminel felt nothing but pity for the really poor. Pity because it seemed they were actually hungry. Pity because they seemed out of place in the hubbub of buying and selling. This confusion went on as they offered up their sorry little gifts.

Geminel's mind wandered as he waited in line. His mind's eye pictured the man who controlled all this, who made things happen in the land.

This man in Geminel's thoughts was not the high priest. The high priest was just a functionary named by another. The job of the high priest was to organize the religious work. It was not up to him to build the faith or to run the nation.

The governor named the high priest. He was the one who made things happen around here. Right now, most of what was happening was bad.

Pilate was not really a military man, but he prided himself on his army. After all, it was the strongest force around. He had thousands of men who were well armed. His army was equipped with the latest weapons. Pilate had their swords and shields and helmets made with the strongest steel and iron.

Geminel had to chuckle at the thought of Pilate's army being a sign of strength. Armies are not of strength but of weakness. Strong leaders and diplomats do not need armies to fighting battles within their nations.

We build strong nations on trust and honor, not on swords and spears. Pilate could not see that. He believed all the hype about the need for spears and machines and spies.

Pilate only used the Temple to build his forced dictatorship. He needed protection only from those who questioned his dictatorship over their lives.

The Temple was a good organization to protect the interests of the power structures of Pilate's rule. All Pilate had to do was pass the word.

One priest or another would call judgement on those who were revolutionary enough to speak of a better way. The priest could call them radicals. He used words like "bleeding heart liberals." He could use any words he could find.

Forget their concern came from reading the prophets of ancient Israel. Forget their compassion, their sense of justice. If they challenge the system, they are wrong. Simple as that.

These matters were no concern to Geminel. Geminel only wanted to stand before the Lord, to make the sacrifice. Geminel wanted and needed to make peace with God.

While Geminel waited, he wondered for the profit of all this. How much of the proceeds of this scene would find its way into Pilate's pocket? Making the sacrifice only cost Geminel a few coins tossed into the hand of the officiating priest.

As he waited in line, some sort of ruckus began on the steps of the Temple. From where Geminel stood, he couldn't see what was happening. He could hear men shouting and see pigeons flying off. He could hear sheep bawling. Geminel was not really concerned until the Temple guards buckled on their breastplates and grabbed their shields.

Then a man whom Geminel had not seen before pushed his way through the crowd and came to the altar. There he knelt, obviously in deep and fervent prayer.

While he knelt a silence spread over the temple. It seemed the whole world had come to a complete stop. No one moved.

The Temple guards seemed frozen. Priests stopped their sacrificial slaughter, hands poised with sharp knives, not moving. The milling crowd paused as if waiting for something extraordinary to happen.

When the man rose, a wealthy men in the line walked over to the stranger and whispered something in his ear. The stranger listened to the Pharisee, then slowly lifted his eyes to survey the crowd.

He could see the men in the Temple, going about their daily work. He could see the rich and the poor, the home towners and the wanderers.

The Galilean looked out through the door of the Temple at the hovels of the poor. Forced to build outside the city walls, without water and without the protection of the walls, these poor could only dream.

Now the Galilean eyes filled with tears. He saw the broken down shacks of the poor pushed up against the outside walls of the city.

Inside the walls, the homes of the wealthy stood as fortresses against poverty for the owners. They were vaults for the wealth of the nation.

He spoke. "Go tell Herod, that sly fox, I am here. Tell him I will heal the sick for a couple days. Right here. I will give hope to the poor. I will make the blind see. I will release the captives of a sick world."

"This city, Jerusalem, the city of David, has had its chance. How often the poor of the city came to you. How often have those who live out in those mud huts in filth and disease and hunger come to you in their need? How often you could have taken them in as a mother hen covers her chicks. Yet you would not."

"Instead, you have stoned the prophets. You have slain those who told the truth about you. You have trampled the poor in your search for the almighty gold."

"Jerusalem, they will destroy you. These very ones who are turning a profit from your existence and your faithfulness. They will not just circumcise you. They will clean cut you off."

Jesus paused a moment. "I will go away now, but I will be back. When I come back you will say `Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the Name of the Lord!'"

As the man left, Geminel knew he would be back. More trouble was coming -- lots more trouble. Geminel knew Herod's soldiers would be waiting for him. Geminel knew the Temple guards would fight against the man. He had told the truth about the city and the Temple and the priests.

Somehow, Geminel knew down deep inside this man was no loser.

All the armies of all the nations did not destroy this man of the world. The most elite Temple guards can not hold him. The self-righteous statements and the hypocritical patriotism of the wealthy could not protect the temple. They could not hold back the forces this simple fisherman would loose. The class system that made up the nation could not withstand his justice.

This fellow would be back, all right. Jesus would be back to stay.

">Yachats Blue Link

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.