A.D. 30(108)
Would he remember me and love me so? At such a distance I would not see his face clearly enough to know. And there were so many.
They hushed and settled down when they saw the teacher sitting on a large boulder. I too saw, just enough to see that he rested one foot on the rock, knee within the crook of his elbow, allowing the other foot to hang over the edge. He was speaking already, as if addressing only friends on a lazy afternoon. How long had he been here?
His voice reached me, and I stilled my breathing to hear.
“Have you not heard me say, no one can serve two masters? Is this not true?”
No one responded, for they, like me, were held in the grip of his presence already. His voice carried the kind of authority one would not dare resist. They had come to feed on his words and his power, I thought.
“Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and mammon. Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.”
Stephen’s words echoed in my mind. Clearly, Yeshua spoke these truths often.
He spread a hand wide to indicate the sky.
“Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?”
How true were those words, I thought. Still, I could not fathom a life so free of worry.
But he wasn’t done with the matter.
“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?”
The words crashed through my mind. I craved this faith as I had craved water in the Nafud.
“So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
A slight murmur rose at this, for trouble was the way of the Galilean under Rome. I couldn’t tell if they agreed or disagreed with him, perhaps both. My heart was pounding.
Yeshua still sat on the boulder, one leg cradled in his elbow, the other hanging over the edge. He was tired, perhaps. Or only comfortable.
“You have heard me say to love your neighbor as yourself, for he too is your brother. I have said to judge not lest you be judged, for the Father judges no man.”
He paused, looking at those gathered.
“You have heard me say, ‘Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find.’ If you know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give to those who ask him!”
My mind filled with this new teaching. Yeshua’s Father was also mine—he’d just said as much. And could I ask him for a gift? How? Must I build an altar?
“Today I will tell you a story about the Father and his sons, two brothers.”
He unfolded his leg and pushed himself to his feet, now standing tall upon the rock. Then he lifted a finger and began.
“There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So the father divided his property between them. Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country, and there squandered his wealth in wild living.”
The moment I heard his words, I found myself in the story, for, though not a son, I was a daughter bound to my father’s name.
“After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and the younger son began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.”
He paused. The hill was silent.
I too was desperate to be fed, so far from my father and in desperate straits.
Yeshua spoke. “When the son came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ So he got up and went to his father.”