Skip to content

Become the child

Too weak to crush, too simple to complicate, too honest to hide.

Don’t grieve

There are things that must be mourned, but this ain’t one of them: your fight to survive, to win, to prevail. Exhausting as it is, don’t make the mistake of feeling bad about it! On the contrary pat yourself for it. Count it as progress made, as victory won, as hurdle crossed. Overwhelmed as you might be from being nearly overpowered, still finish it with joy, not sorrow.

The predicament, The pathway

We humans invariably find ourselves in circumstances we can do little to help. But the bigger, even real thing is how we first feel about it, than what or how much we ourselves actually do to fix it. If the intent/desire is there the rest will automatically follow. For it is only such who even God helps.

Jesus the gentleman

Jesus had just arrived at the place with his entire team from across the long lake/sea of Galilee. It had been an eventful journey across, for adding to the regular toilsome rowing across some 10 odd miles of water, there’d been a huge squall to test their stamina! Thankfully Jesus had calmed the storm. Of course, all of this was sandwiched between his routine heavy itinerary. Now they barely touch shore after all this and a man in whom some 2000 odd demons lived (at least counting the number of pigs that drowned into which the demons had entered after they left the man) confronted him. Jesus healed this man called Legion. A quick development was that word rapidly spread all around about Jesus, Legion and the pigs (now Legion had been a menace around the region: uncontrollable, frightful). Immediately the townspeople rushed to check if this was indeed true. And finding the phenomenon to have actually happened (for they saw legion dressed – he was usually naked, living in the tombs and haunts, often slashing himself – now sitting at Jesus’ feet, in his right mind), they were gripped with fear. Fearing more unpredictable things to happen (because of Jesus) the townspeople cautiously requested that Jesus leave (read let them alone!).

Dispensing some simple guidance to the healed man, without another word of protest, the poor man left.

Wisdom’s grasp

Understanding is the key to memory which is the key to knowledge.

The richer woman

He didn’t spare even muddied water, for no one used the best water around to wash feet! And because no feet were washed he didn’t need to use his worn out old towel, after all usable towels were kept for better purposes. He surely didn’t as much reach out his hand in courtesy, for the formal momentary cold kiss of greeting never came. If all these things that didn’t cost a thing never came, why would the precious flask of fragrant anointing oil be opened? It wasn’t. For Simon loved Jesus less (did he even love him at all? I guess he invited Jesus for dinner!).

But she (to Simon, the nameless whore,) couldn’t move her watering eyes from over Jesus’ feet. Out from her deep welled a stream of tears enough to leave Jesus’ dusty feet washed. No, her tears weren’t cheap. They held her very life, her stories. Her every pain, her predicament, her shabby deal in life, her myriad blunders, her broken dreams, her longings. Even her consolation, of love, even the dignity she never asked for, from the one whom all feared, loved, honoured, respected. Now that the feet were washed, she undid her rich, silken, shampooed hair to wipe them. No it wasn’t akin to a dirty old towel, but her very self, her head, her glory, her crown. Bending down she kissed his feet between sobs, expressing her unabashed affection, her ownership of his love. No, it wasn’t her cold distant hands or steely eyes, but her tender lips, the supreme messenger of love’s affection. Now that she’d given away her priceless self, what was a bottle of expensive perfumed oil, worth even half her life’s earnings? Nothing. So she poured it over his feet, the best use ever!

Noting her white against Simon’s black Jesus sent her forgiven. And she went back a richer woman.

Offended by Jesus

It is true that it was possible for even those among the better ones to be offended by the very embodiment of truth, Jesus. John the Baptist was confused why Jesus was not fighting for his life (i.e. against J the B’s unjust imprisonment by Herod – eventually he would be beheaded unjustly- when both J the B himself was sent as a ‘forerunner of the Messiah’ and Jesus was the Messiah himself. For wasn’t the Messiah supposed to deliver?)! But Jesus’ mission was not along the lines J the B expected. Still Jesus would be the solution (as 2000 years have proved!) in a very different way.

So the onus was on John the Baptist to work Jesus-as-the-solution out. But there was no reason for John not to trust Jesus, and on the contrary Jesus more than abundantly deserved John’s trust (in fact at that very moment Jesus defended himself against John’s emissaries, i.e. there was a case, only John had to give his listening ear). There were small gaps, but the fuller picture demanded trust rather than offense. But for John to have been offended by Jesus because of this development would have been akin to a cancer patient being offended by the cure, or a child being offended by a parent for the occasional discipline.

So keep the broader picture before you hurry to be offended by an agent of truth. Weigh the factors carefully and steer away from anger should truth be hindered for your petty offense.