#so like. mary and martha are friends with jesus

[terrainofheartfelt]

thinking about Nat and the group and this reaping ritual...

not that I expect logic to apply, but it is illogical, right? Nat is the hunter, she is the one with the skills to keep them alive and fed. and yeah, there isn't any game to hunt right now because it's winter, but what about when winter is over?

and Nat is the practical one. in the wilderness where the rest are seeing things that aren't there, she sees them for what they are. (when she says to jackie's remains that shit is gonna get a whole lot worse). she doesn't partake in the rituals because she doesn't see their worth, but she respects the others enough that she lets them do what comforts them, until it goes too far and there's a knife at her throat.

but she's the hunter. she is a good shot, and until winter came and the hunting dried up, she was crucial to the work of survial. and thinking about that has just got me thinking that, there is this tendency in religious sects...to value the ritual and the people who participate fully in the ritual, over the people who do the necessary, unglamorous work of survival. the yjs convince themselves that Lottie is necessary for their survival, meanwhile Nat has been quietly doing the work.

not that she wants praise for it, or even recognition, even in the dynamics of the team we see precrash she's less concerned about ego and more about keeping them working together. and maybe that's why she participates, but it's also why she tells shauna to look her in the eye.

[piratefalls]

i have no real opening remarks, so have some fic, mind the tags, and have a good day!

masterlist

did the light hit my blush (when i told you you could be enough?) by matherine

Henry wasn’t eavesdropping. Really, he wasn’t — he had just come home from work at the shelter early, toed off his shoes at the door, and began to settle in when he heard it. “No, Nora,” Alex’s voice groans, floating out into the hall from where his bedroom door must be cracked open. “I can’t tell if he’s just not interested or oblivious. I’ve used my whole arsenal of flirting and Henry’s completely unresponsive.” Or: Alex has been flirting for months. It’s not that Henry didn’t notice — it’s that he thought he couldn’t possibly mean it.

Only Fools by OrchidScript

Henry rolled his eyes. “No. You tell me — that sounds better — why I should bring my ex-hook up to my brother’s wedding?” Pez hummed and half-shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you? He’s the perfect thing to light your gran’s helmet of hair on fire.” Pez set his cup down and leaned forward onto the table. “That’s what Pip encouraged you to do, didn’t he?” “Martha more than Pip, but yes. He did.” Henry sighed. “Then ask Alex.” -- With his brother's wedding a few weeks away, Henry Fox is determined to not show up alone. Not wanting to ask a stranger, he instead turns to Alex, hoping to manufacture something believable from something familiar. Try as he might to keep a level head, Henry can't help falling in love with the man. Will it come around to bite him or will it turn into something more than he had hoped?

kitchen confidential by stutteringpeach

The NDA is approximately a mile long. “Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?” ~ Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.

Can You See Me? (I'm Waiting for the Right Time) by affectionatelyrs

“Whose turn was it?” Henry asks while Alex is busy pondering the merits of throwing himself out their fifth-story window and hoping his boner doesn’t take anyone’s eye out on his way down. “Forgive me, but I am a bit tired. Do you think you could take it?” There’s no way that Henry’s not doing this on purpose. He makes words mean things when put in a certain order for a living, for fucks sake. Alex almost quips back depends on how big it is just to see how—or if—Henry would react. “Yeah, um, no problem.” There. Much more normal. He could steal Henry’s job at this rate. “Truth or dare?” - Or, Alex’s world gets flipped on its axis during a game of truth or dare

getting good now by Standinginmoonlight

Alex sighs and balls his hands up into fists, digging them into his eye sockets until he sees stars, and then he’s speaking without his brain giving his mouth permission. “I can’t believe I’m going to marry someone British.” Or: the Love is Blind AU that no-one asked for.

A Sin Better Than Heaven by AnchoredArchangel

“Show me,” the king says, a demand. He sets the vial back down, careless to where it lands compared to where it originated. He leans back against the table, crosses his arms over his chest; chin raised, jaw set- a picture of regality. Henry’s heart is pounding in his chest, the unstable beat of too many horse hooves overlapping, like the canter through the woods that very afternoon before he was shoved from his saddle. For the first time, he considers the possibility that perhaps he had hit his head harder than he realized- against the ground or against the tree, because certainly his hope is misplaced; certainly he is not following this conversation as well as he presumed. “Show you what, Your Majesty?” The king only deigns to move a hand, untucking it from his elbow in order to wave it vaguely. “How your body responds to men.” Or: A criminally loose reimagining of the tent scene from Mary & George, only Alex is a sexually confused king, and Henry's the one who has been sent to seduce him.

it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands by anincompletelist

His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs.

Silence & Sound by @nocoastposts

Alex tugs at his hair and tries to focus on choosing his next words. He knows that Henry will help him - that he wants to help him. He knows that all he has to do is say the word. Henry stands and steps closer, holding Alex’s chin firmly and tilting his head up so their eyes are forced to meet. “You need me to clear that lovely head of yours, hm?” “Please,” Alex says in barely a whisper. or: Henry helps Alex fill the silence before indulging in the sound.

baby boy by smc_27

It starts as a joke. Alex taking the piss about how much money Henry has. How he could have anything he wanted, from anyone he wanted, if only he just asked.

all so human with our guards down by maxbegone

“Constant fear is debilitating,” Alex tells him later on. The sun has risen, though it’s barely prominent through the dark clouds in the sky. “Even in the world we live in now, you need to find the things that make it feel…normal.” Of course, Alex isn’t even sure that makes much sense, and he thinks about doubling back on what he just said with something stupid and word-vomitty, whatever pops into his head first, but Henry beats him to it. Much more suitable, and it puts Alex’s mind at ease: “I’m starting to think you’re right.” The world ended three years ago. No more all-night study sessions, no more drag brunch and mimosas, no more societal expectations. But out of everything Alex was expecting from an apocalypse, Henry sure as hell wasn't it.

Dallas, Texas by annesbonny

i thought I knew hopelessness. i thought I'd learned its specific dread years ago There's an assassination attempt on Ellen, Henry is caught up in the damage. Alex is... coping about as well as you would expect.

Best Practice in Sexual Favours by everwitch

They meet at a bar. Alex is young; fresh out of law school, sharp and charismatic and oh-so attractive. The sex is absolutely incredible, and Henry has no regrets. At least not until the morning after when he finds himself opposite Alex in a meeting — equipped with the painful knowledge that Alex’s boss thinks Alex’s only function in said meeting is to sit there and look all pretty. Somebody ought to call HR right about now. Or: when sexual relationships mix with professional ones, Alex and Henry make the most of it.

this is the first time I've felt the need to confess by theprinceandagcd

Alex frantically unlocks his phone and stares at their text thread, at the heart reaction that Henry had left on his most recent message. His thumbs hover uselessly over his screen, trembling as moisture burns his vision. The entire room is thick with uneasiness, heavy enough that it’s hard to breathe, and Alex wants to tell Henry something, wants to reach out and find the solace that Henry so often offers him without even realizing it. But mostly, as his brain finally catches up to what’s actually happening, all Alex can think is that he doesn’t want to die. He tries to come up with a list of reasons why in his head, a comprehensive one that probably should include family and career goals and a million other things, but in the end, in the moment, all he can fucking think about is Henry.

out of the kitchen by rizcriz

Alex looks to his right where Henry’s standing at his own door. Any moment now, Gordon Ramsay is going to tell them to turn the handle and one of them is going to cascade into a new life. He doesn't care if his door doesn’t open; in fact, he’d rather it didn’t. He’s come all this way, he’s proven himself as a chef, but there’s no denying that the man beside him was made for this role. For the last five weeks, he’s watched as Henry’s given his all to every challenge and dinner service. -- or, the Hell's Kitchen au literally nobody asked for.

i love you (ain't that the worst thing you ever heard) by coffeecatsme

Henry doesn’t doubt that, just as much as he doesn’t doubt now that Alex won’t have a single issue with him being trans. In another life, when Henry whispered it in the quiet hours of the night, he didn’t. In another life, when he kissed Henry anyway, he didn’t. In another life. In this one, when Alex meets his eyes, all there is left behind them is a cold glare that freezes Henry to his soul. One year ago, Henry had a whirlwind of a day with Alex after a chance meeting in a coffee shop, only to leave in the morning to protect his heart. He doesn't expect to see Alex again, until he shows up at June's wedding and finds out her brother is the same Alex he hasn't been able to get out of his mind for a year - and he's pissed.

Fragile Things by SatinBirds

Alex does not scare easily. But the moment he sees Henry fall, all breath leaves his body at once.

Trim my Christmas tree by clottedcreamfudge

Henry is a writer, not a mall Santa, but unfortunately this year - thanks to his adorable and conniving nieces and their Aunt Beatrice - he's going to have to be both. This doesn't leave him a great deal of time to pine horribly over the part-time bookseller and Law student over at June Claremont-Diaz's shop, but somehow he manages to jam it in anyway. Ho ho ho.

All Kinds of Wounds by allmylovesatonce

It throws Alex off when it takes longer for the door to close, when he hears Henry’s footsteps but doesn’t hear him approaching. As he listens closer, there are steps on the stairs and eventually the sound of feet on the second floor. Henry avoided him. Henry gets hurt at the shelter and tries to hide it from Alex.

blurred lines by seafloor

Henry is a lovesick writer; Alexander a charismatic bartender. They’re still fated to fall into bed at some point.

keep me up all night/ i wanna scratch your surface by @firenati0n

They step inside, greeted by moonlight streaming through the windows, illuminating their living room in a dreamy light; it’s enough to see outlines and shapes, enough to keep everything just a little bit secretive, a little softer around the edges. Henry moves his hand to flick on the kitchen light, and Alex’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist. Henry looks down at him questioningly, blue eyes sparkling even with the absence of light. Alex always feels a little off-kilter around him, Henry both his center of gravity and his reason for vertigo. He’s stabilizing, and dizzying, and everything. Alex’s thumb and index finger circle Henry’s slender wrist, exerting the slightest pressure. He feels Henry's pulse jump under his thumb. “Get on the couch.”

Voted most likely to run away with you by dreamsinthewitchouse

Alex drifts into consciousness in a bed full of tangled limbs and warm, sleep-rumpled skin. He’s lying half on his stomach and half on his side, the shoulder smushed against the bed protesting in a way that tells him he’s going to have a crick in his neck for the rest of the day. But fuck if he cares, with Henry stirring next to him, one of his long legs draped over the back of Alex’s thigh. Alex doesn’t need to open his eyes to know the room is hazy with filtered sunlight, spilling pale yellow through the carelessly drawn curtains.

everything just stops by HypnosTheory

Alex hums, pushing his nose into the side of Henry’s cock. “Let me give you your gift, Hen.” “You’ve already given me my gift,” Henry says, fingers tightening on the edge of the countertop. “Twice.” Alex laughs and takes Henry’s cock back into his mouth. Henry keens, knees shaking. He’s oversensitive already; Alex woke him up with a hand on his cock, and then in the shower surprised him with three fingers against his prostate. Each orgasm was greeted with a happy birthday, baby, which is a phrase that’s starting to have a Pavlovian response on Henry. --- Alex gives Henry all the birthday orgasms - Henry believes turnabout is fair play.

the wrong place by congee4lunch

“I don’t want you, I don’t want anything to do with you, Alexander,” Henry breathes out, his breath ghosting over Alex’s lips. “I just want to feel good.” “Perfect,” Alex grins. “I want the exact same thing, Fox.” henry and alex hate each other. when they're forced to share a hotel room and a bed for a night, they fuck about it.

Total Eclipse by @myheartalivewrites

Alex is not sure what the fuck is happening here. “And if you only hold me tight…” A man—probably the most beautiful man he has ever seen—is up on stage in this karaoke bar, absolutely murdering Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and he’s pretty sure the guy is crying and it’s one of the most horrifying things he’s ever seen and Alex cannot. Look. Away.

Late Bloomer by @sparklepocalypse

Alex Claremont-Diaz is sixteen years old, and he hasn’t presented. His dad seems to think it’s fine and offers Alex regular reassurance that his cousin Angel hadn’t presented until nearly 20. His mom, though, gets a little crease between her eyebrows whenever she thinks Alex isn’t looking. Presenting is a Big Deal in the Claremont family, and Alex just... hasn’t. So Alex is sixteen, and he’s… a boy. That’s it. Just a boy. Not a boy and an alpha like his friend Marco, or a boy and an omega like his friend Noah. Just a boy.

living in a new normal by @forever-fixating

Henry Fox could write an entire dissertation based on how much information his twin nieces Penelope and Grace have told him about their favorite band, Austin Heat. The girls peppered him with neverending facts since he surprised them with tickets and meet-and-greet passes to their concert at Madison Square Garden last Christmas. -- Henry Fox takes his nieces to a concert of their favorite band, Austin Heat. He gets a bit more than he bargained for when he meets singer and guitarist Alex Claremont-Diaz.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged in future lists!

tagging @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Jesus | Blinded To The Truth | Platonic

Dialogue prompt: “You really like making things difficult.”

Requested: Yes

After inviting you to listen to His meditation at Synagogue, your childhood Friend Jesus makes the boldest of claims.

“Hey, you’re cheating!”

“I am doing no such thing!” you quip, throwing the small ball towards Rafi in the hopes he will not catch it– 

–He catches it with his left hand and you huff, preparing yourself to get it hurled back at you in return. However, Rafi tosses it with a firm movement of his arm towards Jesus, Who misses it by a hair. The ball falls to the grass and Rafi cheers, causing you to roll your eyes. Aaron lets out a sigh of defeat.

“I win!” Rafi exclaims. 

You place a hand on your hip. “Fine, you win. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to get myself some snacks to comfort myself at this incredible loss.”

“Nah, (Y/n), you are just being sarcastic now even though I know quite certainly that you are upset.”

“I’m not! It’s Rosh Hashanah, I will not allow myself to sulk over something like a game.”

Jesus chuckles at your response and runs a hand through His hair, sighing deeply. “You did better at this game than I did, (Y/n),” He reassures you. You smile at your childhood Friend, Who heads over to you. “I will join you for that comfort snack, okay?”

You nod in agreement and both of you head for the nearest platter of sweet treats. You scoop a whole load of honey onto a slice of apple and give it to Jesus. He thanks you with a word of gratitude and waits for you to get one for yourself as well. 

“Hey,” Jesus begins as the pair of you bask in the sunlight, enjoying the fruit. “I am going to give a Torah reading tonight at the synagogue. Would you like to attend as well? You’re a good friend of Mine, so I would appreciate it if you were to–”

“Of course!” you say without hesitation, “I knew that You were a Rabbi now. Your mother told me about Your ministry.”

Jesus hums. “I don’t think she told you all of it.”

You frown in puzzlement. “What do You mean?”

The Nazarene gives you a look. “You’ll see.”

Trusting Him enough to not ask, you decide to not press any further. 

“Time for a rematch?” you suggest, nodding at Lazarus and Rafi, who are still gloating in their victory. 

Jesus nods in agreement, polishing off the honied apple. “Let’s go.”

_

In spite of the heat outside, the synagogue is cool and dark, apart from some light drifting in through the small windows above. The village of Nazareth has gathered and you’ve taken a seat with two women who introduced themselves to you as Martha and Mary, whom you’ve started to mingle with in anticipation of Jesus’ reading. You’re curious to see what He will choose to read. 

The crowd’s chatter falls silent when Rabbi Benjamin walks up to the pulpit and stretches his arms in a way to lead everyone into prayer. You bow your head and close your eyes.

“Blessed are You Lord our God, King of the universe. Who has kept us alive and sustained us for another year. Who bestows kindness, restores and redeems. Praise to You, Adonai our God, sovereign over creation. Who has chosen us from all the peoples. May Your blessings be all who seek You earnestly. Bring joy to Your land and gladness to Your city. In Your mercy, bestow on us a prosperous year, a bountiful harvest, and the promised arrival of Meshiach. Your anointed One, the Son of David.”

The congregation replies with an agreeing ‘amen’ as the sound of the shofar fills the room in a few quick puffs of noise. Goosebumps litter your skin at the sound like it does to you every time, and you smile, watching Jesus across the room. 

“Thank you for the call to repentance and rest.” Rabbi Benjamin comments. “And now, for the reading and interpretation we have with us Jesus bar Joseph. He was one of my students in Torah class and we’ve heard reports–” he turns to Jesus, “Some of them very positive, of His rabbinic journeys.” Jesus and Lazarus chuckle a bit, “Jesus.”

Jesus heads for the pulpit and smiles. “Thank you, Rabbi Benjamin. Ah, please.” He gestures for the person carrying the scroll to lay it out for Him.

“You know, it’s not easy to share in front of Nazareth’s most pre-eminent Rabbi, but I will do My best. And I’m certain that if I miss a word or two, one of you at least will speak up, huh?” 

A few of the men make sounds of agreement, Lazarus leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed. “Oh, don’t worry.”

“I wonder who it will be,” Jesus murmurs in amusement before turning to the scroll.

“A reading from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah.” Jesus announces, then lifts His eyes upwards for a few silent seconds. He unfurls the scroll and takes the yad to point at the text He is reading to follow along.

“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me. Because the Lord has anointed Me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted; to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight of the blind. To the opening of the prison for those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

With bated breath, you watch as He steps away from the scroll and rolls it up, handing it back to the assistant before taking a seat in the chair placed in the middle of the room. For a moment, He locks eyes with Lazarus, then with you, until He opens His mouth to speak.

“The fulfilment of this Scripture as you have heard it is today. This is the year of the Lord’s favour. This is a year of jubilee. A year the poor, the brokenhearted, the captive and the blind are offered redemption.” 

Your heart stutters inside your chest. Are you hearing this correctly? 

Rabbi Benjamin’s posture stiffens. 

“Here. Now.”

Jesus pauses for a few moments, and Lazarus speaks up. “We are here with You,” he remarks, “Keep going.” He seems just as interested in Jesus’ words as you are. “Not bad for a carpenter’s son, yes?”

You cannot fight the small laugh that escapes you, and Rabbi Benjamin gives you a sharp look. 

“I mean, especially Joseph…” Lazarus continues, “May he rest in peace…”

Rabbi Benjamin has a stern look on his face when he speaks up.

“Jesus, please explain why You stopped the reading before Isaiah spoke of the day of vengeance of our God? Especially during a time of such oppression.”

A few silent moments as you keep your gaze focused on Jesus, anxious what He will say. You have never heard this interpretation before, and you’re only hoping that Jesus will not say anything that could get Him in trouble. 

“The day of vengeance is in the future. I’m not here for vengeance. I’m here for salvation.”

Rafi and Aaron’s brows furrow, as does Rabbi Benjamin’s. “You’re here for salvation?” the Rabbi mutters, “What are You saying?”

Over her shoulder, Mary looks at you with a delighted look on her face. Your expression resembles confusion as your heart hammers inside your chest. “It’s Him…” Mary whispers, “He is trying to say that He is… You know…”

You swallow thickly. Thinking of the rumours that have been going around about Jesus, and now… Could He be…

“You know what I am saying.”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“And this year of jubilee, this year of the Lord’s favour, is not about release from financial debts. I’m here to provide release from spiritual debt.”

“We are the chosen seed of Abraham.” Benjamin darkly sounds, “We don’t have spiritual debt!”

Jesus purses His lips and looks away. 

“Jesus,” Aaron starts. “We’ve been hearing about the signs and wonders, and now this? Are You claiming to be more than a Rabbi? More than even the Baptiser?” Aaron has the exact same question as you.

The room is tense and you lean closer towards Him, not wanting to miss a single word.

“No doubt one of you will quote me the Proverb; ‘Physician, heal yourself’. The things we heard You did in Capernaum and in Syria, do here in Your hometown, yes?”

“Why not?” 

“I get it.” Jesus counters. “It’s always easier to accept hard truths and even greatness from strangers than from those you know well, especially those you knew as awkward teenagers or even as adults as some of you saw earlier today. Laz here would make a more believable prophet.”

You grin as the two chuckle, until Jesus’ smile falls. 

“But this brings up an important truth. No prophet is acceptable in his hometown.”

Around you, people start to mutter amongst themselves.

“Be careful with what You call Yourself.” Benjamin growls.

“This should be easy to prove!” Aaron says, “Dinah and Rafi, you say you saw it, yes?”

Rafi nods. “Yes! Yes, we saw it, but… He did not claim this…”

“A true prophet from Adonai would not deny His own people signs and wonders.”

Jesus takes a sharp breath. “Listen carefully. When a great famine hit Israel during the days of Elijah. Three years and six months. There were many widows, yes? And we know how the Father cares for His chosen people, especially widows. But Elijah was sent to none of them… Not one.”

You drink in every single word He says, your mind spinning with questions and clarity at the same time. 

“Instead he was sent to a widow in Sidon, in Zeropath. A Gentile woman. Martha, what happened?”

Jesus turns to her and for a moment, He locks eyes with you. It is as if He can read your mind - your soul - and He nods. He nods to answer the question bouncing around in your skull, and you have to prevent yourself from gasping.

“She gave up her last flour and oil for one more cake and gave it to Elijah.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Elijah told her the Lord said to do so.”

Jesus turns back, “Yes. The Lord said that He would make it so that her flour and oil would never run out. And she believed. A pagan Gentile in a pagan land. And she was hungry enough to know that she needed God and to obey Him. And so, God sent Elijah to multiply our food forever.”

He shortly pauses to let the words sink in. 

“What about Elisha, and Naaman? There were many lepers in Israel during this time, but none of them were cleansed except Naaman. Only a Gentile, a Syrian soldier and enemy of the Lord’s people. But he was so desperate, he trusted Elisha, and his leprosy was cleansed.”

The tension in the synagogue rises with every word that falls from His lips, and your throat runs dry at the expression many hold on their faces; deep, unadulterated offence.

“You may be the chosen seed of Abraham, you may be the people of the covenants, but that will not bring you My salvation.” Jesus’ eyes are shimmering with both sadness and persistence, “If you cannot accept that you are spiritually poor and captive, in the same way that a Gentile woman and a Syrian leper recognised their need–”

He pauses, the words getting stuck in His throat as He pinches together his fingers to emphasise the message. Across the room, you see Aaron shake his head slowly, and Rafi’s expression is conflicted. 

“If you do not realise that you need a year of the Lord’s favour… Then I cannot save you.”

You can hear a pin drop as the hostility in the room advances, your heart almost leaping out of your chest in fear as Aaron slowly stands, his brow knit together in rage.

“Who do You think You are?!” His voice drips with malice. 

“This is what Hannah talked about.” Martha says in front of you, making your chest tight with anxiety for His safety. “That He even called Himself the Messiah!”

Rabbi Benjamin takes a step in Jesus’ direction. “Are You claiming to be the Messiah, or are You merely claiming to speak for the Lord as a prophet?”

Jesus, turned away from the Rabbi at first, slowly pivots in His seat. 

When He opens his mouth to answer, your face pales. 

“Yes.”

For a moment, you lock eyes with Lazarus, who looks from you to his sister Mary, who has a certain sparkle in her eye that makes you convinced that she believes, too. 

And so do you.

Something within your spirit puts you on edge in a way you have never experienced before. It reels inside your gut in a strange way, as if everything in your soul is teetering on the edge of interfering, but that same spirit holds you back from doing so, convinced that He knows how to handle this all.

“You are a false prophet!” Benjamin accuses. 

Mother Mary gasps in shock and you put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her immediately. Lazarus reaches over to put a hand on the elderly Rabbi’s shoulder. “Woah, that is quite a thing to say! Jesus, maybe we should leave.”

Aaron interrupts: “Lazarus, you’re His friend, you cannot be involved! You know what the law of Moses says–”

“We are all His friends, Aaron,” Lazarus counters. “We cannot say things like this!”

“Jesus, stand up at once!” Benjamin orders, but Lazarus tries to fan the flames. 

“Rabbi, please. Rafi, come with Jesus and me, we will leave, and you can all continue the service.”

Slowly, Jesus rises from the chair. 

Rafi clearly draws his own conclusions. “Rabbi Benjamin has asserted false prophecy and I cannot argue it.”

Lazarus will not have any of it. “You said you saw the miracle!”

“He’s saying only He can save us!” Rafi bites.

“He did not use those words–”

“–It’s what I meant.” Jesus quips, earning Him a glare from Lazarus.

“Jesus, you’re not helping!” Lazarus pleads.

Deciding to intervene between your bickering childhood friends, you stand and make your way down to them. “Rafi, are you deaf? And blind? Have you not heard the stories of the miracles? Have you not tasted the wine?”

Aaron scoffs. “Those are just rumours! You’ve got no evidence, and people can say whatever they want. As long as enough people tell the same story, you’d believe anything, wouldn’t you, (Y/n)? Always so gullible…” He shakes his head almost pitifully.

You let out a noise. “And you, not even considering the words of a Man you know to be trustworthy, even though He makes things so clear right now! You really like making things difficult!”

Jesus puts a hand on your shoulder and you turn to Him. He smiles at you softly, His gaze containing a certain kind of warmth that fills you with rest. It is the briefest of moments, but intense nevertheless.

Rafi points a finger at Jesus, breaking the moment of eye-contact. “He’s saying we are not the Holy One’s chosen!” 

“Now, He did not say that!” 

Rabbi Benjamin’s voice is like ice, full of fury, unlike anything you've ever heard before. It makes the hairs of your neck stand on end. “In words, the book of Moses; ‘But the prophet who presumes to speak a word in My Name that I have not commanded him to speak, that same prophet shall die.’...”

As Lazarus leans closer, he lowers the volume of his voice. Jesus’ mother seems distraught and anxious. “Rabbi Benjamin, I beg of you… Not this…”

“Lazarus,��� Jesus calmly hums, “It’s fine…” 

“Jesus they’re going to–” Jesus leans closer to His friend and whispers something in his ear for a few moments. As soon as He pulls back, Lazarus stares at Him rather nervously. 

“Yes?” Jesus acknowledges, and Lazarus reassures Him. 

Before you can speculate, Lazarus locks eyes with you, and nods towards Jesus’ mother Mary, whose eyebrows are furrowed in fear of her Son’s safety. You immediately understand the hint, rushing over to her and crouching down to take her hand in yours. She gives you a grateful glance, but it soon focuses back to her Son, Whose safety she so desperately fears.

“Jesus…” Benjamin utters, “If you do not renounce Your words, we will have no choice but to follow the Law of Moses…” 

You can hear your own blood rush inside your ears as the strain within the synagogue reaches its breaking point. The Messiah steps closer to the Rabbi, His eyes filled with heartache. 

When Jesus speaks, it is the straw that breaks the camel’s back: 

“I AM the Law of Moses.” 

Benjamin staggers back, gasping in indignation. Before you can truly process what is going on, Jesus is grabbed into His tunic by Rafi and Aaron, who shove Him towards the exit. They yank off the tallit that is still draped over His shoulders and Mary reaches out. You can barely hold her back to keep her from harm, but Lazarus soon assists you. 

Before He is pushed outside, Jesus has a moment of intense eye-contact with His mother, but then, He is forced out.

As Jesus is led out of the synagogue by the angry mob, Mary starts to sob. You can barely look at what is happening, your entire being frightened and shaking, but you cannot follow the crowd to see if there is a way to save Him. All you can do is comfort His mother, who accepts your embrace as you pull her into your arms. Her form trembles in agony. 

“Jesus promised that He’d be alright,” Lazarus reassures both His mother and you as everyone pours out of the synagogue, “We will meet Him after sundown on the outskirts of Nazareth, where His father is buried. Mary, you know the place, right?”

Slightly calmed by the words, Mary nods meekly, but her demeanour remains distraught. And who could blame her? Although she trusts that her Son’s word is true, and that He will be alright, a mother’s instinct is ever so strong.

“It will be fine, Mary,” you whisper, yet still filled with questions. “Is this all true? Is He truly the Messiah?”

Mary nods, her lips trembling as fresh tears brim on her eyes. 

“He is.”

Your mind spins with everything you feel in this very moment - confusion, happiness, relief, fear. “Then why do they not accept Him? I don’t… I don’t understand. The signs and wonders…”

Mary slowly shakes her head, sniffling a bit, seemingly calming down. “I do not know,” she whispers, “But what I do know is to trust Him on His word.”

“Always, Mary,” you reassure her, “Always.”

You remain in the synagogue until the sun has fully set.

[dailydemonspotlight]

Can i request Tarrasque, please.

Tarrasque - Day 31 (Request)

Race: Drake

Alignment: Dark-Chaos

May 2nd, 2024

An entire month?! Jesus H, I'm surprised I've kept this up for so long. Thank you all for tagging along with this silly project of mine as long as you have! Celebrations aside, though, today's demon is a relatively obscure one, appearing mostly just in the earlier games in the series: The great French Dragon, the Tarrasque. Now, most know this monster from the trenches of 5e, wherein it serves commonly as a BBEG of many a campaign, as well as apparently in MTG? I know next to nothing about Magic, so I'll just take Google's word for it. However, in spite of how much it seems tailor-made to simply be a giant boss monster in some random DnD or Pathfinder campaign, this massive beast actually originates from a french fairytale about a badass Christian saint lady who was friends with Jesus Christ. No, I am not joking.

Backing up a smidge, the Tarrasque in the story first appears as a massive dragon ravaging the French city of Tarascon (no doubt where it got its name, though it's vague- either the Tarrasque got its name from Tarascon, or, more popularly, Tarascon got its name from the Tarrasque), though its appearance is anything but- as described in the tale,

"It was fatter than an ox, longer than a horse, with a lion’s face and head, teeth as sharp as swords, a horse’s mane, its back as sharp as an axe, bristling and piercing scales, six feet with bear’s claws, a serpent’s tail, and a shell on either side like a tortoise." The story also describes it as being downright massive, 15 meters tall and 20 meters long.

The story paints a picture of it being more than just a simple animal, though, as past its chimerical appearance, it was also apparently the offspring of the biblical leviathan. Saint Martha, a young woman who traveled to the town with the intent of evangelizing it, eventually was stopped and asked for help in defeating the beast- each time they would try, it would simply deflect each attack without a care in the world before retreating back underwater, only to return the next day to continue wreaking havoc. Martha, being the sister of Mary Magdalene, was deeply religious and connected to the big man upstairs, and thusly she approached the monster with naught but her faith.

Surprisingly, it worked. The Tarrasque fell tame soon after being splashed with holy water and having a cross waved in its face, and Martha grew to become a patron saint of the village. While this heavily Christian tale is the only recollection of the Tarrasque we're aware of, there is still quite a bit to dig into- as some scholars hypothesize, the Tarrasque serves as a metaphor for sin and evil, representing how such things can destroy a community and how, who else, but our man Jeezy-C can help bring back a community from destruction. Overall, while a short and simple tale, the story of the Tarrasque gives way to a surprisingly unique monster, this kaiju-esque hybrid.

Now, in terms of SMT, the design is surprisingly faithful to its original depiction, what with the lion head, turtle shell, six legs, and overall just how weird it is. I've yet to play the Raidou games nor SMT II, so I can't give much of a rundown on how it works in-game, but all-in-all, the Tarrasque is a demon worthy of the spotlight. Thanks for the request!

[pamphletstoinspire]

Perfect - and Powerful - Summer Devotions for the Holy Souls in Purgatory

Ah, summertime, and the living is easy. Two weeks of vacation. A few days at the beach. An afternoon picnic in the park. And….

Prayers for the suffering souls in purgatory? Absolutely! No week or two off for them. Purgatory is never a day at the beach.

The revelations of St. Alphonsus Liguori and St. Teresa of Avila tell us most souls are released from purgatory on Christmas Day. OK. Why not give them “Christmas in July”! And August. Why not make these three summer months a time to help them … and, in doing that, help ourselves?

Ourselves? You bet. Do you think it’s even remotely possible that the souls you’ve helped free from purgatory are going to forget the role you played once they’ve entered heaven? Not now, not ever. From that instant you have good, good friends in not just high places. In the highest place ever.

(Actually, they knew what you were doing for them while they were in purgatory and that’s when they started praying —interceding — for you).

The Precious Blood July is the month of Precious Blood. The holy souls long for the Precious Blood of that Sacred Heart. St. Thomas Aquinas tells us that “as the dew refreshes and raises up the withering plants and flowers, so does the Blood of Christ revive and comfort and bring renewed hope to the poor souls in purgatory.” This summer print out or bookmark the Litany of the Sacred Heart and the Litany of the Most Precious Blood and pray them often for the holy souls. No access to a computer or smartphone? Ask a friend to print a copy for you (It’s good to have friends of earth, too!).

The Stations of the Cross Along with the Mass and Rosary, the praying the Stations of the Cross is a powerful, powerful, powerful way to help souls in purgatory and acquire merit for ourselves (No, the Stations aren’t meant to be limited to cold, dark Lenten Fridays). As Jesus pointed out to Venerable Sister Martha Marie Chambon (introducer of the Holy Wounds Chaplet Rosary): “When you offer my holy wounds for sinners, you must not forget to do so for the souls in purgatory, as there are but few who think of their relief.”

It’s not that we don’t care. It’s not that we don’t want to. It’s just that, shrug, we get busy. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of our prayers. Two suggestions here. The standard Stations of the Cross (or Way of the Cross) or the ancient devotion of praying The Way of the Cross for the Holy Souls. That’s the title of the first book I ever wrote (edited) and I don’t mention it here to make sales.

Please forgive me if it seems like I’m tooting my own horn. I’m not. But I never hesitate to toot horns, bang drums, and shout from the rooftops for the holy souls in purgatory. You can find a copy of the Stations of the Cross here. And more information about The Way of the Cross for Holy Souls here.

Following a practice that goes back many centuries, consider praying the Stations for the holy souls for thirty-three consecutive days at home or at church. If possible, go to Mass on each of those days in honor of Our Lord’s thirty-three years on earth. What a marvelous summer devotion this can be. I know this devotion is potent since I have done it for years. Many favors have been obtained by this means. It’s an exchange of prayers. I love Blessed Solanus’ statement: “The holy souls hardly ever fail.”

And remember: In a special way we can offer this practice for the priests and consecrated men and women in purgatory who tend to be forgotten too soon after their deaths. Remember, we gain fresh intercessors and when we pray for the souls plus it increases their intercessory power for you! (See the Catechism of the Catholic Church #958).

Take a “Prayer Stroll” In August, a month devoted to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, try a family “prayer stroll” through your local cemetery to pray for all those buried there. Continually pray the Eternal Rest Prayer on your rosary beads.

Visit the graves of your loved ones and clean their sites in a spirit of prayer and penance. Place or plant flowers near their grave in their honor. Have younger family members sprinkle holy water on the graves. (It’s one of the first sacramentals of the Church. Holy water refreshes the holy souls).

I did this with my young cousin, and he ran around the cemetery sprinkling holy water on the nearby graves as well! That’s the spirit, and a lesson for the youngest generation. Remember Masses and Gregorian Masses. The Pious Union of St. Joseph is one of the best organizations to arrange Masses for your deceased dear ones.

A Day with Mary Pious legend has it that on the day Mary was assumed into heaven (now marked on August 15th) all of purgatory was emptied, and the souls detained there accompanied her in her triumphant entry into paradise.

St. Bernardine of Siena said that through her prayers and the application of her own merits, the Blessed Mother has the power of freeing souls — especially her devotees — from purgatory. And St. Peter Damian attests that every year on the Solemnity of the Assumption, Our Lady liberates thousands of souls.

This summer, join with her, pray with her, for the souls who are longing for their personal, spiritual, "Independence Day." And let the celestial fireworks begin!

BY SUSAN TASSONE

[angelic-writer]

Hail True Body - (My) God's Not Dead

Holy shit, another one!! I'm on a roll! This time, I'm trying out Hail True Body by @mustangs-flames

The prompt is by the lovely @serickswrites who never fails to rip our hearts out. <3

This stars an AU I've been thinking of for a while now. I hope it's worthwhile.

CW: Captivity, Torture, Restraints, Forced to watch, Drowning, Attempted CPR, Escape, Referenced Character Death, Referenced injury of a child, Referenced toxic masculinity

Excerpt from John 11

The Death of Lazarus

Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. (This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair.) So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.”

When he heard this, Jesus said, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days, and then he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.”

“But Rabbi,” they said, “a short while ago the Jews there tried to stone you, and yet you are going back?”

Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Anyone who walks in the daytime will not stumble, for they see by this world’s light. It is when a person walks at night that they stumble, for they have no light.”

After he had said this, he went on to tell them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.”

His disciples replied, “Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.” Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he meant natural sleep.

So then he told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.”

Then Thomas (also known as Didymus) said to the rest of the disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”

The night sky was dotted with stars. In the barren plains of Edensfield, they all joined together to make a cluster, a light show made from the heavens. From a God that Mark thought he prayed to. It would've been a pretty sight if he and Cesar were out and about, enjoying themselves, not having a care in the world. But now, as he dragged his friend's body out into the field, he wondered if the stars above were supposed to mock him, taunting him of a future he could've had with Cesar.

"Look, we made it, Ces." Mark said breathlessly as he reached the edge of Mr. Marcus' property. He clutched Cesar tightly, fearful of dropping him or leaving him behind. "We made it to freedom. Just like you said."

Mark stopped walking, the weight of everything he had endured finally hitting him. "I'm free." He whispered as he stared into Cesar's upturned face. "You deserved to be free, too." He said as the overwhelming sadness he had started to feel back at the house began to take over.

"You... deserved it, too..." Mark repeated as a lone tear dripped onto Cesar's face.

The shorter boy's eyes were half-lidded, his gaze glassy and empty. His grey lips were parted slightly, and he was so terribly, terribly still. The kind of stillness that reminded him of that event. When they went to see her...

Mark dropped to his knees as he began to sob. He hadn't been fast enough. Hadn't done enough. Hadn't acted soon enough. He sat back against the tree, Cesar's limp body cradled in his lap. His heart was racing so fast, he thought it would stop at any minute. He wouldn't mind that. If he could at least see Cesar again, he'll gladly let his heart fail.

Mr. Marcus was their old high school history teacher who was obsessed with Greek mythology. He got along really well with the students, especially Cesar, to the point where people started calling him a teacher's pet. He had told them that they were gonna do great things when they grew up. He especially had faith in Cesar pursuing a medical degree. So when a mysterious figure pulled Cesar into a dark alley, knocking him out with chloroform and hit Mark over the head with a pipe, they had no idea who it would be.

They awoke several hours later in a dark room, lit by a single candle. There were handcuffs on their wrists, preventing them from any escape. There was the smell of rotting flesh coming from somewhere in the house. Didn't Mr. Marcus have a wife that he wouldn't stop talking about? He loved her, right? So why isn't she there? Surely, they would notice two high school graduates locked up in the house and call someone, right?

The figure walked in front of the candle and they could see a familiar face, illuminated by the candle.

"Mr. Marcus?!" Mark had shouted. "W-What the hell- What are you doing here?!"

Mr. Marcus tilted his head. His face looked like it had blood all over. His eyes had heavy bags under them like he hadn't slept in so long. "Hmm... That's a good question. What am I doing here? Well, I'm here because... Well, I had a bit of a revelation."

"Revelation? W-What do you mean?"

"Oh come on! Don't try to play dumb! Y'know, the one your little friend had."

Cesar shuddered, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Wait. So... You..."

"Yep. Those voices won't stop talking, telling me that something was wrong with her, that I couldn't trust her. I... I..."

Mark started to quake. "You... killed her...?"

Cesar let out a choked sob.

"I-I had to. One of them probably killed her and was wearing her skin! I... had no choice! I had to!! Oh god, the blood... I-It's gonna be hard to clean up, but I'll take it."

"Why...?" Cesar sobbed. "Why did you kill Mrs. Marcus?! Y-You loved her! You wouldn't shut up about her every day! You gave her flowers, took her out to dinner and everything! You were so happy! So why?! Why do all of this?! We never did anything!!"

"Because... Everything was a lie. They told me all I needed to know. How God abandoned us and that this world is doomed to fail. I cannot trust anyone. Anything. So I have to protect myself from them. You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Mark?"

Of course Mark knew what he was talking about. The mimics. He had encountered one when he found Cesar bleeding out on the floor.

"In fact... The reason why I kidnapped you two... is because they told me to..."

Mark blinked. "....What...?"

"Mr. Marcus, you don't have to do this! Y-You can fight this! You have to! We can help you!"

"So you can turn me in for killing my wife? I don't think so. In fact, I don't think you're really Mark and Cesar. I think you're just wearing their skin."

"N-No, we're not! We lived through our attacks!!" Cesar screamed.

"Yeah! We have proof! You can look at Cesar! He's living proof!" Mark chimed in.

Mr. Marcus sighed. "You must think you're so smart trying to get me to let my guard down just because you have simulated scars? Well, you can't fool me. No one can. Not anymore."

And so, he left the room. For the first several hours, they were left alone in the dark, handcuffed together. Mark tried to ignore the smell of death and closed his eyes, muttering prayers to God. That did little to calm his nerves, but a warm hand snapped him out of his thoughts. Warm hands against bandaged ones. "Hey, Mark. I-It's okay. We're gonna get out of this, okay?"

Even with the trauma of killing his own mother, he still had his optimism. They escaped a mimic attack at the house before. This was no different. How confident he was... "M-Maybe we can figure out a way before he even comes back." He whispered, leaning his head on Mark's shoulder.

"I think it's going to take some time to figure our way out of this. We're handcuffed together in the dark somewhere we don't even know."

"We'll make it to freedom, you'll see."

Cesar had been so confident. He was so confident that he would escape with Mark. He was confident that they would be free before Mr. Marcus can come back. And he was confident that Mr. Marcus wouldn't hurt them that bad.

Cesar was wrong.

Mr. Marcus had returned after several hours, flicking the lights, revealing the contents of the room. Mark's mouth had gone dry when he saw the rusty bathtub in the corner of the room. Mr. Marcus silently filled the tub as Mark's heart pounded. Only one word came to mind: baptism.

"Which one of you should I start with, eh?" Their old teacher asked quietly. After a minute of silence, too long for Mark's comfort, his eyes settled on the taller boy. "How about you? If you really are a mimic, you'll come back from this, right?"

Cesar glared at Mr. Marcus. "Over my dead body."

He looked to Cesar. "Fine. Then we'll start with you. This will be your first extracurricular lesson."

And that was all it took. Mark screamed and tried to grab onto Cesar as the teacher uncuffed Cesar from him. He scrambled after Mr. Marcus as he dragged Cesar to the tub by the hair. "LET HIM GO!! LET HIM GO!!" He roared.

"None of that." Mr. Marcus snarled as he kicked Mark in the face.

He stumbled to the floor, his cheek throbbing. He sat there helplessly, trying to figure out a way out of the cuffs. If these cuffs weren't around the bastard's neck first. They were loose, but Mr. Marcus would see. He had to wait until he left them alone again.

Mr. Marcus plunged Cesar's head in and out of the tub several times, Cesar kicking and fighting each time, but he didn't stop. He shoved Cesar's head below the surface once more. The way his limbs flailed about wasn't a good sign for Mark. He had to do something fast!

'LET HIM GO, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!! I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!" His eyes were wide with rage, his lips twisted into an unnatural shape, his nails dug into his palms, breaking skin and drawing blood. He was like a wild animal.

Mr. Marcus either didn't hear him or acted like he wasn't there.

Cesar's frantic scrabbling grew weaker and weaker until he stilled.

"CESAR!!!" Mark screamed as he watched Cesar's arms fall limply to his side.

Mr. Marcus blinked, relaxing his grip on Cesar's hair. He looked confused, the crazed look he had earlier disappearing. "C... Cesar?" He lifted his head up and looked at him. He flinched and dropped him to the floor. He stumbled backwards, his body starting to violently shake before he dropped to his knees. He looked at his hands which were still covered in his wife's blood. "Wh... What... What did I just...?"

He looked to Cesar who was lying limply on the floor. "D-Did I just...?" Tears started to fall down his face, his breathing quickening before he began to hyperventilate. "O-Oh god!! Oh my god!! I-I didn't mean- Cesar, I'm sorry!! I didn't mean-!!" He covered his mouth to muffle his sobs. He finally realized what he had done, though it was far too late.

¬ You killed him, Marcus. ¬

Mark and the teacher froze. That voice...

¬ You killed your precious student. ¬

It was here. And it had seized its moment.

Dark shadows wrapped around Mr. Marcus as he looked behind him. A creature beyond human comprehension was standing before him, black hands gripping his shoulders. A mimic. It followed him. Followed them. A pair of eyes looked at Mark and said in a voice he knew very well.

¬ Don't look, Mark. ¬

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he heard his former teacher screaming into the endless night. Screaming for help which will never come. Screaming until finally, it was silent. Mark opened his eyes.

There was no one. No Mr. Marcus, no mimic - just Cesar who laid on his side, his back to Mark. Water streamed from his body, staining the wood around him. "Hold on, Ces. I'm almost there. Hold on."

He slipped the cuffs quickly and stumbled forward. "Cesar?"

Cesar didn't reply.

Mark shook his shoulder. "Come on, Ces. We don't know how long we have until that thing comes back. We have to go." He said urgently.

Cesar's body shook with the motion, but he didn't respond. "Cesar?" Mark whispered as he rolled his friend onto his bad. "OH GOD NO!!" He screamed as he stared into Cesar's lifeless eyes.

No, no, not again! NO!!

"Please, Ces, please!!" Mark said as he started compressions. "Please don't leave me. We're getting out of here. Please, c'mon!!"

His medical knowledge was fuzzy, but he knew Cesar had been studying. He wanted to go to med school, wanted to be a nurse. He had a bright future ahead of him where he had nothing. Mark, you fucking moron! You should've listened! You should've let him go! You had Josiah! You could've come to him, but no. You just had to blow up at the one person who cared about you. Why are you such a selfish asshole?!

Please God, please. Don't take him away from me.

He counted to fifteen and blew into his lungs. His lips were slack, but they were warm. Still there. Still has a chance.

"C'mon, Cesar, please... You have to live. Please!" His hands sunk down into his chest, his ribs bending inwards. I think I'm doing this right. Cesar's body shaking like a ragdoll and the clicking of his ribs made him sick. It felt like an absolute nightmare, trying to get his heart beating and breathing expired air into his dying friend. Never in his life would he imagine doing this to anyone, let alone his friend. It felt like he was playing God in that moment. Cesar's life was in his hands.

"Cesar, c'mon! C'mon, you bastard!! Breathe!" He slammed his fist into his chest before he continued. He didn't know how long he tried to revive Cesar. He didn't know how long he pounded on his chest. How long he begged Cesar to breathe. How he pleaded with the universe to bring his friend back.

He just knew that eventually, he stopped because Cesar was dead. That there was nothing he could do to save him. That the only thing he could do was save himself and get Cesar's body to safety.

"You deserved it, too." Mark repeated as he stroked Cesar's still wet hair. "Oh Ces... I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything... God, please, no... Please, Cesar, please..." Mark knew he would never recover from this. Would never recover from watching Cesar drown. Would never recover from failing to revive Cesar. And he would never recover from staring into Cesar's lifeless eyes. And as Mark stared down into the face he loved above all others, he realized he deserved it.

A punishment for being selfish.

--------

On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Now Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home.

“Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”

Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

“Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.”

After she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary aside. “The Teacher is here,” she said, “and is asking for you.” When Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet entered the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. When the Jews who had been with Mary in the house, comforting her, noticed how quickly she got up and went out, they followed her, supposing she was going to the tomb to mourn there.

When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked.

“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.

Jesus wept.

Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

--------

Mark and Cesar were laying in a field, listening to a song from Queen. Freshly bloomed flowers swayed gently in the breeze accompanied by the birds chirping. It was a few days after they graduated and they were enjoying the summer breeze. Mark played with his cross while his brain absorbed the lyrics.

"Hey Mark." Cesar had suddenly said.

"Yeah?"

"I've been wondering... What is it like to die?"

Mark blinked. "Sheesh. Dark, dude."

"It's been something that has been on my mind lately. Ever since Emile died, I've been thinking... Was he suffering during his last days? Was he able to feel some sort of peace when we were there for him?" He sighed. "I dunno. And considering my mom's job, it caused me to think."

Mark looked at the sky, at the whisping clouds. What was Lola's job like at the hospital? Since she's on night shift, she had to have seen a lot of shit. Broken bones, torn open wounds, mangled bodies from accidents - She had to have a strong stomach to deal with all of that.

"I think... You never really know when you die. Though if you do good things, when you die, God will let you into heaven. It's just how I think, y'know?"

"Of course you'd say that. Well, if this God you're speaking of lets me in, then I hope I don't get kicked out for not being straight enough."

Mark chuckled. He stretched his hand up to the sky, wondering if he could take the clouds and make them into any shape he wants. Death was one thing that was a constant on his mind lately. Now that they were out of high school, he had no idea what life held for him. Would he stay with Cesar forever in this small town? Maybe live in a dingy apartment trying to start up a band? The thought of it made him smile.

Cesar was the only thing he held onto in life. His best friend, his universe, his God.

He closed his eyes as Bohemian Rhapsody came on.

That memory was all but tainted by that terrible argument. And the screams for help when Cesar unexpectedly called in the middle of the night. And the blood...

He almost lost him that night, but they fought off death. They clung onto each other like a lifeline, never wanting to let each other go. But, like all things in life, death had to come eventually. And it eventually claimed Cesar.

Mark clung onto the hand that was beginning to grow cold. The hand that was so warm before. A sign of his failure. He wanted him to wake up in that moment, to tell him how sorry he was for being selfish, for holding him back, for ruining his life, anything! If it meant hearing his voice again.

He was not a good person. Despite what Cesar, Cian and Josiah said, he was not a good person. He killed his parents, he hurt his sister, his grandparents hated him for not being man enough, he hurt Cesar. Do these things make him a good person? In a way, Cesar dying was like God or whatever punishing him for his sins, his transgressions. Because of his actions, he will never be happy with Cesar.

Never have the happy family he wanted.

He's never meant to find happiness. He will always be alone like he deserves.

Lord, if you had been there, Cesar would not have died.

He thought he felt something squeeze his hand. He looked to see he was still holding Cesar's limp hand. What was he supposed to do now? He can't live without him. He can't. There were still so many things to atone for. So many things to do before he could finally be happy. He rested his forehead onto Cesar's, still feeling the droplets of water as he closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ces... I couldn't do anything to help you... Please forgive me... I'm so so-"

Something squeezed his hand again. He snapped his eyes open and looked. Really looked.

There it was again. Somehow, Cesar squeezed Mark's hand. But how? He was dead, right? Was it just a muscle spasm? He put his face to Cesar's mouth to check if there was something.

There was a faint gurgle emanating from his throat, his lips twitching in an ineffectual attempt to breathe. "Cesar!!" Pressing his ear to his chest, he could hear something. It was a heartbeat. Too faint and slow, but it was there.

Oh shit...

"H-Hold on! Let me help you!" Laying him back down, he tilted his head back, pinched his nose and breathed into his mouth once more. He had a newfound sense of purpose now. He had Cesar and he was going to keep him there, mimics be damned.

He started compressing his chest again, counting to fifteen before briefly stopping. No, this number is too low. I have to go higher. What's the highest number? Twenty? Thirty? Yeah, thirty sounds good. He began to push past what he was initially taught, not caring if he had to break a few bones. All he wanted was for Cesar to live.

Cesar's hand twitched a few times as he continued. He will bring him back. This time, he was sure he will. He will get to have pancakes again. He will get to atone for what he did for hurting Cesar that day. Everything will be okay.

The sky was beginning to grow light, the individual stars going out one by one. The death of one life and the birth of another. The old lives they knew died on October 24, 1993. But with the rising sun, they will forge a new life.

Water came out of Cesar's mouth, but he still wasn't breathing. Mark was beginning to grow exhausted. Dammit, how did they make this so tough? Once more, he continued breathing into him, hoping, praying it will be enough.

He will make sure his God will not die.

After what felt like an eternity of Mark pumping blood through his friend's body, he finally responded. Cesar started coughing up water and rolled onto his side as he gasped.

"Ces!! Cesar!! Hey, hey hey hey, you're okay. You're okay now. J-Just breathe. I got you now." Mark stroke his hair as Cesar wheezed. Even though he just got brought back, he was in lousy shape. His skin was pale, his eyes looked sunken in and he was fading in and out of consciousness. "Hold on, let me get a phone-" He began to stand up, but Cesar grabbed his arms.

"No. Please... Don't go... Please..." He whimpered, his voice so quiet, it was like a little kid. Mark held him in his arms, carding his bandaged fingers through his hair.

"I'm not leaving you. Not this time. I promise." He rocked him gently, humming a song his mother used to sing for him. Cesar buried his face in his chest, his body relaxing as he slipped into unconsciousness. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around him, hoping to keep him warm. He will stay here for a while longer, then he'll find a payphone and call an ambulance.

What would he say to them? That their history teacher kidnapped them and almost killed Cesar, then got killed my a mimic? He'll figure it out later. Right now, he needs to calm the racing of his heart.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard police sirens coming towards the house. Looking up, he could see a familiar figure coming out of the squad car along with someone else. Cian. Mark began waving his arms and cried out, "Hey!! We're here!! Help!! My friend needs an ambulance!!"

Cian followed the direction of Mark's voice, barking orders to the other officers to get the EMTs. When he reached the tree that Mark and Cesar were at, he was shocked at what he was seeing.

Mark was holding Cesar in his arms in a loving embrace, his face wet with tears as the shorter boy wheezed. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon, causing the rays to shine behind him, creating a halo. A perfect recreation of a holy man holding a man who had previously died but was brought back to life.

--------

"So let me get this straight. He was dead?" Cian asked.

"Yes, he was." Mark said, picking at his fingernails.

"And he came back to life."

"Yeah. I tried CPR, but it didn't seem to be doing anything so I thought he was too far gone." His voice wavered. He didn't want to think about that event.

Cian closed his eyes and tapped his pen. Mark took a sip of coffee, a drink that the older man offered him earlier.

"Have you ever heard of Lazarus Syndrome?"

Mark blinked. "I-I guess. I know Cesar talked to me about it when we were studying."

"Mm. Lazarus Syndrome - Autoresuscitation after failed CPR. They started recording cases ten years ago, but they appear to be few and far between."

"Mmm-hmm. That's what it was."

There was silence. The more Mark thought about it, the more he slowly realized he jumped the gun back at the house. Cesar wasn't responding to the compressions so he thought he was dead when in reality, his heart delayed in beating again. It was just like Lazarus in the tomb...

And I'm Jesus Christ. Funny. You'd think it'd be the other way around.

The sound of the phone ringing broke him out of his trance. Cian picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Okay. He's doing alright?"

"Okay, that's good. Do you want me to go get him?"

"Alright, thank you."

He hung up. "That was the hospital. Cesar's stable."

Mark let out a sigh of relief.

"Do you want to go see him?"

He nodded his head a bit too enthusiastically. Cian chuckled. "Okay, okay. You kids really need some rest."

As they left the questioning room, Mark asked him. "By the way, how did you know where we were?"

"Josiah. He let us know what was going on."

--------

Mark sat beside Cesar's hospital bed, holding his hand. It was already becoming warm. He's here. He's here with him now. Nothing could take him away now. He had already been given a second chance that night and he will make sure he will treasure every second he spends with Cesar. Never take anything for granted. He will work on himself to become a better version of Mark Owens. He won't let anything ruin this moment.

Cesar slowly opened his eyes.

"Hey bud. You alright?"

He turned to Mark and smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you."

"No problem. You'd probably do the same for me, right?"

"You betcha." He gripped his hand. It was just as strong as before.

A lone bird perched itself on the windowsill, looking at the two men with an inquisitive look. Soon after, Josiah came into the room and they all delved into mundane conversations. For a moment, everything was back to normal.

--------

Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. “Take away the stone,” he said.

“But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.”

Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”

So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.”

When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.

Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”

[timeless-fanfic]

Hey can you write a being best friends with Mary of bethany fic

Best Friends with Mary of Bethany

Word Count: 1322

Mary of Bethany  x (Platonic) Reader

The sun was just beginning to rise over Bethany, casting a warm glow over the village as you made your way to the house of your best friend, Mary. It had become a routine of sorts—visiting Mary as the morning light spilled over the hills, filling her home with the first signs of a new day. Ever since you were children, you and Mary had shared everything: your dreams, your secrets, your quiet conversations late into the night.

Today was no different.

As you neared the house, you could already hear the familiar sounds of Martha bustling around inside, likely preparing for the day. But it was Mary’s soft laughter that you recognized first, and it immediately brought a smile to your face. There was something about her presence that brought peace to even the most chaotic of days.

You knocked lightly on the door, but before you could even lower your hand, the door swung open to reveal Mary, her eyes bright with excitement.

“(Y/N)!” she greeted warmly, pulling you into a tight embrace before stepping back. “I was just about to come looking for you. Come in, come in!”

You smiled and followed her inside, taking in the familiar sights and smells of the house. Martha was already in the kitchen, of course, preparing food for the day’s guests, though she paused long enough to give you a welcoming nod. You and Martha had always gotten along well, but it was Mary you had bonded with most. There was something about her quiet strength, her gentle spirit, that had always drawn you to her.

“How have you been?” Mary asked as she led you into the sitting area, gesturing for you to sit beside her on the cushions. “I feel like it’s been forever since we had time to talk.”

You laughed softly. “I was here just two days ago, Mary.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I know, but it feels like longer. So much has happened.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Mary’s expression softened, her gaze lowering for a moment as she collected her thoughts. “Jesus was here again,” she said quietly, her voice filled with reverence.

At the mention of His name, your heart stirred. You had heard much about Jesus from Mary and her family. The stories of His teachings, His miracles, and His kindness had spread throughout the village, and though you had yet to meet Him personally, you could tell how deeply He had touched Mary’s life.

“Tell me everything,” you urged, leaning in with interest.

Mary’s face lit up as she recounted the events of the past few days. She told you of how Jesus had visited their home again, how He had spoken with her and Martha, how His words had brought a sense of peace and purpose to her heart.

“He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” Mary said softly, her eyes filled with admiration. “When He speaks, it’s as if He sees into your soul. He doesn’t just look at you—He understands you, every part of you.”

You listened intently, captivated by her words. There was no denying the change that had come over Mary in the past months. Ever since she had begun following Jesus, she had become more reflective, more at peace. And while you hadn’t yet had the opportunity to hear Him teach, you could feel the impact He had on your friend.

“I wish I could meet Him,” you confessed quietly, your fingers idly tracing patterns on the fabric of your tunic. “Everything you say about Him… it sounds incredible.”

Mary smiled warmly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on yours. “You will,” she assured you. “I know it. Jesus welcomes everyone, (Y/N). You’ll see Him for yourself soon enough.”

There was a certainty in her voice that gave you hope, and you found yourself nodding in agreement, trusting her words.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the warmth of your friendship filling the room. It was moments like these that reminded you just how grateful you were for Mary’s presence in your life. Even when you didn’t speak, you always felt understood, always felt at home when you were with her.

After a while, you turned to her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Do you remember the time we tried to bake bread together?”

Mary burst out laughing, her laughter filling the room like music. “How could I forget? We nearly set the house on fire!”

You joined in her laughter, the memory of that disastrous day still fresh in your mind. You and Mary had decided to surprise Martha by baking bread while she was out, but it had quickly turned into chaos when neither of you could get the dough right. In the end, it was Martha who had to come to the rescue, though she had laughed at your efforts once the smoke had cleared.

“We were so proud of ourselves, too,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the memory. “Until Martha walked in and saw the mess we’d made.”

“She’s never let us forget it,” Mary added, still giggling.

As your laughter died down, you leaned back against the cushions, a content sigh escaping your lips. “We’ve had some good times, haven’t we?”

Mary nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. “Yes, we have. And we’ll have more.”

The sincerity in her voice warmed your heart, and you smiled at her, grateful for the bond you shared. There were few people in the world who knew you as well as Mary did, and fewer still who understood you the way she did.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mary,” you said softly, your voice filled with affection.

She looked at you with equal warmth, her hand squeezing yours gently. “And I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

For a while, the two of you sat in peaceful companionship, the quiet sounds of the house around you adding to the serene atmosphere. It was one of the things you loved most about your friendship with Mary—there was never any need to fill the silence. You could simply be, and that was enough.

Eventually, Martha called from the kitchen, announcing that lunch was ready. You and Mary exchanged a glance before rising to join her, your stomachs growling in unison. As you helped Martha set the table, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

Life in Bethany wasn’t always easy, but with Mary by your side, you knew you could face anything.

Later that afternoon, as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, you found yourself sitting outside with Mary, watching the sky turn shades of pink and orange. It was a quiet, perfect moment, the kind that reminded you of how fortunate you were to have her in your life.

“(Y/N),” Mary said after a while, her voice soft but filled with meaning.

You turned to look at her, seeing the seriousness in her eyes.

“I want you to come with me the next time Jesus visits,” she said, her words a quiet invitation. “I want you to meet Him. I think you’d… I think you’d love Him.”

The sincerity in her voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. But as you looked at her, seeing the way her eyes shone with love and devotion, you felt something stir within your heart—a longing to know the One who had brought so much peace to your best friend.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, your voice filled with quiet anticipation.

Mary smiled, and in that moment, you knew that your friendship with her was only the beginning of something far greater.

[rosiewitchescottage]

The Chosen S4 - Finale

Some theories based on what we've been given.

Spoilers aplenty, so continued below.

Joseph of Arimathea - Yusuf's been a front runner throughout. But I think we can be pretty much certain now.

Even were a new character to be introduced in S5, why else would so much have been invested in Yusuf?

We even have his father as a family friend of Lazarus, sitting Shiva with Martha and Mary when Jesus arrived. He witnessed Lazarus coming out from the tomb.

And he was there to see Little Sister Mary anoint Jesus with priceless oil.

Which provides a segue into

Judas and Shmuel - "I have a bad feeling about this."

I suspect that these two will be working rather closer than is healthy, somewhere between the supporters of Jesus and those plotting his death.

No. I don't think that either wants Jesus dead. But they're so caught up in their own idea of what should be happening.

Judas believes in Jesus' Messianic status. But he completely misunderstands what it means, and is increasingly frantic to see it go the way he thinks it ought to.

Shmuel wants to believe. He's spoken with Jesus, prayed with Jesus and knows that there's something extraordinary about him.

But he's so hung up on the Letter of The Law that he can't see any other way than strict, unerring adherence.

Like Judas and many others, he believes that Messiah will defeat Rome, so that Israel can lead the world to God.

Both so close yet so far.

My theory is that they will plot to get Jesus to The Sanhedrin to force his hand.

Shmuel has heard Caiaphas (?) and Co saying that they will have to get Rome to dispose of Jesus.

So Shmuel and Judas will get Jesus to The Sanhedrin, so he will have to go face to face with and directly oppose Rome.

We know how that's going to go. 😥😥😥😥😥😥😥😥

Joanna and Claudia - As Jesus rides towards Jerusalem on his colt, with the all important bridle in place, and The City is preparing to welcome him.

Joanna burns her final bridge, jumping from her husband's carriage to joyously join the crowds.

There's an unspoken understanding between herself and Claudia, that following Jesus will give them both the Faith that has the Jewish people making the arduous journey to Jerusalem to worship and celebrate.

Joanna has taken that first step, after all she was already distanced from her husband.

Claudia is another matter. I wonder if she will disguise herself to go and see Jesus enter the city?

She's already been dreaming of him, but she hasn't seen him in the flesh yet.

The fact that we learned of her dreams back in S3.

That makes me think that she might see that he is the man from her dreams, earlier than when he comes to trial before her husband.

If she sees him as soon as he is entering Jerusalem. Then we'll have the whole of Holy Week in S5 for the poor woman to wrestle with her knowledge.

She's heard Herod and her husband talking about Jesus. She knows that The Sanhedrin have him in their sights.

She has 'A Bad Feeling' about where it's all heading. And I wonder what it'll mean for her relationship with her husband?

The Centurion at The Cross - How they're keeping us guessing about this!

Will be be introduced to us at the start of S5?

With this rapturous procession about to enter The City. Pilate's troops will have to be on high alert for trouble.

And, of course there will be their centurions in charge of them.

I suspect we will be getting to know the soldiers who will be performing the gruesome work of The Passion. There's the flogging, crowning with thorns, driving Jesus along Via Dolorosa to The Crucifixion at Golgotha. 😥😥😥😥😥

(One hopes that they won't be the drunken,maniacally giggling cariacatures that we had in The Passion of The Christ. 🙄🙄🙄)

This said. I can still see possible ways for Atticus and Gaius to be at least involved.

Atticus has completely terrified Pilate by letting his cocky, self assured face drop, to show a man who's seen, with his own two eyes, things that he just can't explain away.

He's seen a Zealot have his sica thrown into the river, but kneel and pledge his service to the man who disarmed him.

A man whose crippled brother now walks and dances on his own two feet.

He's seen a man walking on the storm tossed Sea of Galilee.

And he's seen a man mourned as dead for four days, walk out of his tomb alive and well.

Atticus is frantic to find out what's happening, how, why and what it means for Rome.

Could he be there to hear Jesus speak words of forgiveness for the soldiers crucifying him, tell a guilty, repentant criminal that they will be together in Paradise, make sure his Eema will be protected, in the midst of his own agony?

Will this convince him that at least The Kingdom Jesus speaks of is not one Of This World?

Gaius is now being treated as a friend in Capernaum. All our Galilean Chums heading towards Jerusalem are asking if he and his family will be coming along too, seeing as most of Capernaum will be out of town.

Having his duties as Praetor, Gaius politely declines, but asks for his thanks to be passed onto Jesus and 'Shalom, Shalom' to Simon Peter and Matthew.

But what if he and his wife have a change of mind? Things are quiet and peaceful in town, Gaius can leave orders for what needs doing.

This is their perfect change to see this all so important city and The Temple.

Little do they know what they'd be present to witness.

[marysittingathisfeet]

Jesus Wept

The story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead In John 11 is famous. It is taught to children in Sunday School almost as much as David killing Goliath. But there are a few things about the story that perplexes me.

Lazarus is ill. His sister's Mary and Martha send word to Jesus that Lazarus is ill. The bible tells us...

When he heard this, Jesus said, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's son may be glorified through it." Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus so when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days...

Say what? He loved them so he stayed two more days? Now if I had heard my really good friends were ill, Id drop everything and head to their house right away. After all Jesus did not have a 9-5 job. He walked all over Israel. So why not head right on over? Jesus had just said that Lazarus illness was to glorify God. If he had headed over right away and healed Lazarus, then the miracle would not have had the same impact. John 21:25 says that Jesus did many things that would not fit in the world if they were all written down. To glorify God this miracle had to stand out. Jesus probably knew that Lazarus was going to die and was probably dead. After all Jesus waited 2 days before heading to Bethany, but when he got there Lazarus had been dead for 4 days.

2 days after being informed that Lazarus was ill, Jesus decides to head back to Bethany (a suburb of Jerusalem- 2 miles from Jerusalem). Before heading back, Jesus tell his disciples that Lazarus has died. When Jesus arrives in Bethany Martha goes out to meet him. She leaves her home full of mourners from Jerusalem to meet Jesus. Martha greets Jesus with..

"Lord," Martha said to Jesus, "if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask."

To which Jesus replies ."Your brother will rise again."

Yes, Martha said, "he will rise when everyone else rises in the last day." Now Martha makes the same mistake we all make. She puts God in a box. Her expectations of God are limiting what she thinks God can do. Instead of asking Jesus what he meant or being open to what Jesus was going to do, she assumes he means something else. Sometimes it is just best for us to shut our mouths and wait on God to move. Martha returns home while Jesus stays outside the village of Bethany. Why did Jesus not return with her? Perhaps he did not want to be surrounded by all the negativity and doubts a houseful of mourners would create. After all when he raised Jairus' daughter from the dead, he chased out all the mourners. Martha told Mary that Jesus arrived, so Mary runs from the house to meet with Jesus. The mourners assuming she is running to her brothers grave follows her. When Mary sees Jesus she falls at his feet and basically says what her sister had said,

"Lord if only you had been here, my brother would not have died." (I wonder how many times Martha, Mary, and the mourners had discussed this in the last 4 days. I am sure they felt like Jesus let them down. But this is a discussion for another day.)

Jesus response to Mary is intriguing. The bible tells us that "When Jesus saw her weeping and saw the other people wailing with her, a deep anger welled up within him and he was deeply troubled."

Why did Jesus get angry? Did he not say that Lazarus would rise? Yet Mary and the mourners are acting like this was the end. True they did not hear him tell Martha that Lazarus would rise again, but they had seen and heard all the other miracles Jesus had done including raising people from the dead. After all did not both Mary and Martha state if he had been there then Lazarus would not have died? I know I get frustrated with my patients when I tell them something and I hear, BUT, but, but... Jesus was both fully God and fully human. He had the same emotions we had.

After the bible tells us Jesus was deeply troubled he asks, "Where have you put him?"

They told him, "Lord come and see." Then Jesus wept.

Why did Jesus weep? He was heart broken, Not because Lazarus was dead as some thought. He knew he was going to raise Lazarus so it was not grief. We know Jesus is angry. Perhaps he wept out of frustration and anger. He is surrounded by a group of people with little to no faith in him or God. Jesus heart was for the people. After all when he entered Jerusalem did he not have the heart felt cry..

"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathers her chickens under her wings, and you would not!" Matthew 23:37.

Plus Jesus was angered by their lack of faith. I know that sometimes when I get really angry, I want to cry. He cried because he was angry. He cried because he was sad that there was such little belief even in those he called friends. He cried for the lost souls surrounding him.

When Jesus wept the people who were standing nearby said, "See how much he loved him!" But some said, "This man healed a blind man. Couldn't he have kept Lazarus from dying?" (See they had been talking about it that why both Mary and Martha said it. They (the mourners) were casting seeds of doubt and discord. Much like the serpent in the Garden of Eden who whispered in Eve's ear casting doubt.)

The next verse tells us that - Jesus was still angry as he arrived at the tomb. Jesus commands that the stone be rolled aside. Martha - the one Jesus had a private conversation about Lazarus being resurrected- protests. She is worried about how bad the smell will be. If I was Jesus I would have thrown my hands into the air and said fine and walked away. But God is love and he is patient- which is good for us. Jesus responds to Martha by saying, " Didn't I tell you that you would see God's glory if you believe?" Belief is the key. Maybe finally at this time Martha and Mary's faith was increasing as their hope was rekindled. After the stone is rolled away Jesus says an odd prayer.

"Father, thank you for hearing me. You always hear me, but I said it out loud for the sake of all these people standing here, so that they will believe you sent me. Then Jesus shouted, Lazarus come out."

Because Jesus had been surrounded by some of little faith and others of no faith, the mockers, he had to make sure they knew who he was and that God was the one raising Lazarus. The bible tells us that Many of the people who were with Mary believed in Jesus when they saw this happen. (Prayer answered.) (Note if Jesus had not waited to go to Lazarus the people (mourners) would not have been there to witness the miracle and believe. Mary and Martha might have thought Jesus let them down, but he had a higher purpose he needed to accomplish.) There were others who ran to the Pharisees. (Always those who are butt kissers.) Interesting how a group of people can see the same event and it affects them differently.

The bible tells us in Chapter 12 verse 17- some time after he had raised Lazarus from the dead. Jesus had finally returned to Jerusalem for the Passover. This was when the crowds met him with palm branches.

"Many in the crowd had seen Jesus call Lazarus form the tomb, raising him from the dead, and they were telling others about it. That was the reason so many went out to meet him- because they had heard about his miraculous sign. Later we learn that the chief priests made plans to put not only Jesus but Lazarus to death "because on account of him many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus." John 12:9-11.

What started out as grief truly did result in God being glorified so that many could be saved.

[motownfiction]

lazarus

cw: discussions of catholicism, christianity, religion

In the spring semester, every tenth grader at St. Catherine’s is required to take a class called The Gospels. Some tenth graders, like all of Sam’s friends, take their Gospels with an honors credit. Sam’s not really sure how that’s possible (“What are you gonna do?” he asks when they pick their course schedules. “Prove beyond any ontological doubt that God exists?”), so he opts for regular Gospels. And even though none of his friends are in class with him, he kind of likes it. After all, there’s nothing Sam likes better than stories and the big questions.

He thinks his favorite story is that of Lazarus. Of course, growing up in a Catholic school (with Catholic parents), he’s heard the story about a million times: Jesus was friends with Mary and Martha and their brother, Lazarus. When Lazarus got sick and died, Jesus wept and brought him back to life. It’s a nice story, Sam thinks. All about getting a second chance if you die before your time. But as they read it in class this afternoon, something happens to Sam. His skin feels cold, but his palms are clammy. He can hear his pulse. And there’s a lump in his throat the size of a jumbo Communion wafer.

He is going to cry.

He is going to cry at the Bible.

What in the fuck is this? He’s never wanted to cry about the Bible before. After a decade of Catholic education, the Bible has always just felt so neutral to him. Something that’s there, something that carries some kind of weight, some kind of tradition, some kind of example … but just there, like an old dining room table, or a parent. But here he is, hunched over the pages in a desk that’s too small for a guy of six-foot-two, hiding his face and crying at the Bible. Almost crying at the Bible. His eyes keep reading the same three words over and over.

Lazarus, come out!

He’s not sure what it is. Maybe it’s the assumed tenderness, like Lazarus was always just sleeping and needed someone to wake him up in time to start the day. Maybe it’s that after he wakes up, Lazarus is loved. Maybe it’s the relief to find that the brother you love is still alive … the trust you have that no one ever really dies, so long as the living make an image of you. Sam’s not sure what it is. Just that he can’t stop thinking about it.

Lazarus, come out!

The words are stuck in his head as he sits through his seventh-period French class. He even translates them in the margins of his composition book: Lazarus, sors! Sam probably writes it ten times before the bell rings for the end of the school day, and it’s still stuck in his head.

Lazarus, come out!

It’s such a strange thing to have stuck in your head. And to think, when he woke up this morning, he couldn’t stop humming the chorus to “Don’t Pull Your Love.” Talk about a change of pace. Early seventies soft rock can’t hold him now. Now, all he can think of is stones, shrouds, and tombs.

Lazarus, come out!

The chill is still on Sam’s neck as he drives home from school that day – Sadie in the backseat, Charlie riding shotgun. He hasn’t spoken a complete sentence to either of them, not even when they ironically left “One Toke over the Line” on the radio. His mind is somewhere else. He’s lucky he even sees the stop signs and red lights.

Lazarus, come out!

When they pull into the driveway of their home, and Sadie and Charlie get out, it finally occurs to him.

It was like the words were just for him.

He lets himself cry, but he doesn’t really know why.

(part of @nosebleedclub october challenge -- day xviii!)

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

17th November >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Luke 19:41-44 for Thursday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time: ‘You did not recognize your opportunity when God offered it’.

Thursday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

Gospel (Except USA)

Luke 19:41-44

Jesus sheds tears over the coming fate of Jerusalem.

As Jesus drew near Jerusalem and came in sight of the city he shed tears over it and said, ‘If you in your turn had only understood on this day the message of peace! But, alas, it is hidden from your eyes! Yes, a time is coming when your enemies will raise fortifications all round you, when they will encircle you and hem you in on every side; they will dash you and the children inside your walls to the ground; they will leave not one stone standing on another within you – and all because you did not recognise your opportunity when God offered it!’

Gospel (USA)

Luke 19:41-44

If you only knew what makes for peace.

As Jesus drew near Jerusalem, he saw the city and wept over it, saying, “If this day you only knew what makes for peace– but now it is hidden from your eyes. For the days are coming upon you when your enemies will raise a palisade against you; they will encircle you and hem you in on all sides. They will smash you to the ground and your children within you, and they will not leave one stone upon another within you because you did not recognize the time of your visitation.”

Reflections (7)

(i) Thursday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

There are two places in the four gospels where Jesus is portrayed as weeping, at the tomb of his friend Lazarus in the gospel of John and just before the enters the city of Jerusalem for the last time in the gospel of Luke, which is today’s gospel reading. His tears at the tomb of Lazarus express his sorrow at the death of a beloved friend and the devastating impact of Lazarus’ death on his sisters, Martha and Mary, who were also friends of Jesus. The tears of Jesus in today’s gospel reading express his sadness over the failure of a city to welcome him as the bringer of God’s peace. Both set of tears spring from love. We weep over those we love and care about. Jesus had a deep love for the city of Jerusalem and its inhabitants. Earlier in Luke’s gospel he had exclaimed, ‘How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!’ It is a very maternal, motherly, image that Jesus uses of himself. The tears of Jesus in today’s gospel reading are like the tears of a mother who has been rejected by her children. Jesus’ statement, ‘you were not willing’, reminds us that the Lord’s tremendous love for us needs some response from us. At some level, our will needs to be brought into line with his will, our desire needs to correspond in some way to his desire for us. The good news is that, even the smallest of openings, faith the size of a mustard seed, as Jesus once said, is all he needs for his loving purpose for our lives to come to pass.

And/Or

(ii) Thursday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

Luke presents Jesus in a very emotional state in today’s gospel reading, weeping because the city of Jerusalem did not receive him, and did not recognize that in Jesus God was visiting them. The city will now have to live with the consequences of rejecting Jesus. The tears of Jesus are the tears of a love that has been rejected. Jesus came to reveal and make present God’s hospitable love for all, but many rejected God’s messenger of good news. There is a sense in which Jesus, and God who sent him, was helpless before such rejection. All Jesus can do is weep at human intransigence. Jesus cannot force himself on people; when rejected, he can only move on. He has come to seek and to save the lost, but the lost, and that includes us all, have to be open and responsive to his searching love. He walks with us and wants to enter into communion with us, but, every so often, he needs us to say to him, in the words of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, ‘Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over’.

 And/Or

(iii) Thursday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

Luke tends to play down the emotions of Jesus in his gospel. Yet, in this morning’s gospel he portrays Jesus weeping over the city of Jerusalem. He weeps because he knows that the city, at least those who rule there, will not recognize him as the visitor from God who brings God’s peace. Jesus will be put to death in the city as God’s rejected prophet, God’s rejected Son. Jesus is helpless before this ill-fated decision that the city will make. All he can do is weep. Earlier in Luke’s gospel Jesus had said of Jerusalem that he had desired to gather her children as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but they were not willing. There is a sense in which the Lord remains helpless before human unwillingness to respond to his longing for us. There is only so much he can do to enter into a loving relationship with us; at some point he will need our willingness, our openness. He needs our free response. Yet, the good news of the gospels is that he remains faithful to us; he waits patiently for our response. Even if it comes at the eleventh hour, he welcomes it. His tears do not make him bitter or close his heart to us; his tears are always tears of love, a faithful love that endures in the face of human resistance.

 And/Or

(iv) Thursday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

The tears that we shed often speak volumes about the feelings that we have for someone. In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus is described as weeping over the city of Jerusalem. Jesus had a deep love for this city and its people. Earlier in Luke’s gospel he had said that he had wanted to gather its inhabitants to himself as a hen gathers her chicks under her wing. Yet, Jesus must have foreseen that the leaders within the city, the members of the Sanhedrin, would reject him. In fact they would go on to choose a rebel against Rome in his place, Barabbas. It was the choice for rebellion against Rome that would result in the destruction of the city about which Jesus weeps in the gospel reading. Jesus was powerless before the choice that the people of Jerusalem made, or its leaders made on their behalf. Our choices always have consequences for good or ill. The Lord wants us to choose what he would choose, to make our choices in accordance with his will for our lives. He weeps when we fail to do so. The gospel reading suggests that the Lord cannot force himself upon us. He seeks us out but we have to allow ourselves to be found. He offers us a way and provides the means for us to take that way but we have to be willing to take it. Yet, the gospels suggest that the Lord will not give us on us easily. His tears do not make him bitter or close his heart to us; his tears are always tears of love, a faithful love that endures in the face of human resistance.

 And/Or

(v) Thursday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

At the beginning of his ministry, Jesus announced that God was powerfully reigning in and through his ministry, ‘the kingdom of God is at hand’. God’s life-giving power was at work through Jesus for the healing of the sick, for the forgiving of sinners, for the inclusion of the excluded and for the accepting of the rejected. Yet, today’s gospel reading reminds us that there were limits to this power of God working through Jesus. Jesus weeps over the city of Jerusalem because its people, especially its leaders, did not recognize the opportunity God was offering everyone in and through his ministry. For all his power, Jesus was powerless before their refusal to recognize that his coming was a visit from God. The power of Jesus was the power of love, the power of a divine love which is stronger than sin and death. All love, even divine love, must be freely received because it is in the nature of love to be a free gift. The tears of Jesus speak volumes about the capacity of human freedom to reject the gift of God’s unconditional love offered to us through his Son. The Lord’s tears could be shed for any of us because we can all fail to recognize the opportunity when God offers us. Yet, the good news, the gospel, is that our failure need never have the last word because God’s love revealed in Jesus is stronger than our failure and it endures in the face of it.

 And/Or

(vi) Thursday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

One of the most distressing experiences in life is to be rejected by someone we love and care about. This is the kind of sadness that engulfs Jesus at the beginning of today’s gospel reading as he sheds tears over the city of Jerusalem. This city and its people always had a special place in God’s purpose. According to the Jewish Scriptures, it was the place where God had chosen to dwell. Jesus knew that the message of God’s kingdom, God’s reign of love, that he had preached throughout Galilee also had to be preached in Jerusalem, the city that was closest to God’s heart and, therefore, to Jesus’ heart. Yet, unlike Galilee, where Jesus’ message and ministry were often well received, Jerusalem proved to be impervious to his message. It would live up to its darker reputation as a city that kills God’s prophets. The powerful people of the city were soon to reject Jesus in the most violent way. God was visiting the city in love through Jesus and this love was rejected. An opportunity for the city to experience the peace that comes from receiving God’s loving visit was lost, and the gospel reading suggests that this broke Jesus’ heart. Jesus is helpless before people’s refusal to receive his love, God’s love. Jesus’ desire to be in a loving relationship with us is never in doubt, but his desire needs to find an echo in our hearts if it is to come to pass. He respects our freedom to reject his love and the peace it brings, but it continues to break his heart. Yet, he does not give up on us, just as he did not give up on Jerusalem. As risen Lord, the first place he instructed his followers to preach the gospel in was the city of Jerusalem, ‘beginning in Jerusalem’. The Lord continues to wait for our response. Indeed, he works for our response by sending the Holy Spirit in our lives to prompt us and move us.

 And/Or

(vii) Thursday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

We have all shed tears at some time. Very often, we weep over those we love. We weep at the sickness and death of our loved ones. When we give our heart to someone in love, we know our heart will inevitably break. We accept the suffering that loving someone brings. The alternative is not to love anyone, which is the poorest form of life. Jesus was God’s love in human form. His love for others had a unique quality and the suffering which his love brought him also had a unique quality. Because he loved more than any human being could, he suffered more than any human being could, and that suffering often led him to weep bitter tears. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus weeps over the city of Jerusalem. Jesus had earlier said that he had wanted to gather the people of Jerusalem to himself, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but they refused his loving outreach to them. The rejection of his loving visitation to them brought him great suffering, which led to his weeping bitter tears over the city. ‘If you had only understood on this day the message of peace’. Their rejection of Jesus’ love would have tragic consequences for the city. Jesus was often powerless before human rejection of his love. We may love others but we cannot force their love for us; we are powerless before the mystery of their freedom to accept or reject our love. The Lord’s love for us is not in doubt. What is in doubt is our willingness to receive his love and to respond to it. One of the most important questions Jesus asks in all four gospels is his question to Peter in John’s gospel, ‘Do you love me?’ It is a question addressed to each one of us personally. We are all invited to make our own Peter’s response to Jesus’ question on that occasion, ‘Lord, you know everything, you know that I love you’.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

[yhwhrulz]

Streams in the Desert Devotional for September 20

"Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?" (John 11:40).

Mary and Martha could not understand what their Lord was doing. Both of them said to Him, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." Back of it all, we seem to read their thought: "Lord, we do not understand why you have stayed away so long. We do not understand how you could let death come to the man whom you loved. We do not understand how you could let sorrow and suffering ravage our lives when your presence might have stayed it all. Why did you not come? It is too late now, for already he has been dead four days!"

And to it all Jesus had but one great truth: "You may not understand; but I tell you if you believe, you will see."

Abraham could not understand why God should ask the sacrifice of the boy; but he trusted. And he saw the glory of God in his restoration to his love. Moses could not understand why God should keep him forty years in the wilderness, but he trusted; and he saw when God called him to lead forth Israel from bondage.

Joseph could not understand the cruelty of his brethren, the false witness of a perfidious woman, and the long years of an unjust imprisonment; but he trusted, and he saw at last the glory of God in it all.

Jacob could not understand the strange providence which permitted the same Joseph to be torn from his father’s love, but he saw the glory of God when he looked into the face of that same Joseph as the viceroy of a great king, and the preserver of his own life and the lives of a great nation.

And so, perhaps in your life. You say, "I do not understand why God let my dear one be taken. I do not understand why affliction has been permitted to smite me. I do not understand the devious paths by which the Lord is leading me. I do not understand why plans and purposes that seemed good to my eyes should be baffled. I do not understand why blessings I so much need are so long delayed.

Friend, you do not have to understand all God’s ways with you. God does not expect you to understand them. You do not expect your child to understand, only believe. Some day you will see the glory of God in the things which you do not understand.-- J. H. McC

"If we could push ajar the gates of life,

And stand within, and all God’s working see,

We might interpret all this doubt and strife,

And for each mystery could find a key.

"But not today. Then be content, poor heart;

God’s plans, like lilies pure and white, unfold.

We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart--

Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.

"And if, through patient toil, we reach the land

Where tired feet, with sandals loosed, may rest,

When we shall clearly know and understand,

I think that we shall say, ’’God knew best."’’

Copyright Statement This material is considered in the public domain.

[jdgo51]

The Comfort of a Burden Shared

Today's inspiration comes from:

Untangle Your Emotions

by Jennie Allen

Editor’s note: Our next Online Bible Study — Untangle Your Emotions by Jennie Allen — starts June 10th and we want you to join us! Grab a friend and sign up today!

"One of the most emotional moments in Jesus’s life was after the death of His good friend Lazarus. Days after His friend passed, Jesus arrived at the home Lazarus shared with his two sisters, also good friends of Jesus. Martha was angry, and she let Him know it:

If You had been here, my brother would not have died. — John 11:21

How many times have we been angry at God but scared to say so?

Jesus did not shame Martha. He comforted her and issued a greater hope than an earthly healing:

I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die. — John 11:25

He comforted Martha with the hope that only He could give. Then He came to Mary, the other sister of Lazarus, and she fell at His feet, weeping. Scripture says Jesus named that He was deeply troubled and moved by the weeping of Mary, and He wept with her.

You're Invited

This is the only human who ever walked the face of the earth who actually had the power to solve the problem of death, both in the moment and for eternity. And yet Fix-It Jesus did not show up here. Feel-It Jesus showed up and wept with His friend who was weeping.

Why?

He knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead. He knew He would fix the problem both temporarily and eternally for all of them. Yet, in Martha’s anger and Mary’s grief, Jesus did not correct them; He comforted them.

In this scene, He models for us what it means to live out Paul’s instruction to “rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn” (Romans 12:15).

Something about mourning with those who mourn helps when nothing else can and nothing else will. And Jesus knew that.

Who can I safely share my feelings of hurt with? Who might like to share their painful feelings with me, if I signaled that I was open?

John 11:1

2 Corinthians 1:3"

Shared with permission from Jennie Allen, author of Untangle Your Emotions.

[shammah8]

APRIL GLOBAL COMMUNION SERVICE WITH PASTOR CHRIS

We have to watch and pray

📖 Daniel 4 King Nebuchadnezzar had a dream and wanted  Daniel to interpret the  dream. There is an important part of the dream

📖 Daniel 4:15-16

🔴 The subject of this dream was Nebuchadnezzar himself. He was to be givem the heart of a beast. He would  become like an animal and go into the  bush. For 7 years, he would live like an animal... And at the end of that period he would come back and continue to be King and  run the empire. 

📖 V17:

🔴God can take even those non compos mentis and put them in places of authority.

🔴 We can't just leave things the way they are.  We must pray.  Because  the spiritual controls  the physical. 

📖Romans 8:26 - 'help' comes from different words which means to take hold together against. Or to take hold together from the opposite side. But it is literally the former. 

🔴That presupposes that One is joining together with another to put their forces together to work against another. 

🔴 He takes hold together with us against. In our limitations and weaknesses, we form a force together against whatsoever it is that comes against us.

📖Luke 10:39-41

Jesus was teaching.  Mary sat at his feet to listen to his message,  but we are told about Martha.

Martha was Cumbered. 

Read from the RSV.

Martha was distracted with much serving.

She wasn't saying Mary  should come and help with the food, but she wanted Mary to help because she was anxious and troubled  about many things. The Master understood this. 

🔴 Imagine you find yourself distracted by many things. The Holy spirit helps us in that  situation so that our minds can become calm and we can have composure.

🔴We don't even know the details of how to pray as we ought. But the Holy spirit intercedes for us with deep sighs.

This is not referring to speaking in tongues.  They are sighs and groanings too deep foe words. Like you are crying and you don't know why. Words are not coming out of your mouth. You are just sobbing. 

The Holy ghost makes intercession for the saints. Whatever you are praying about will be answered because you are praying by the Holy Ghost. 

📖V28: When you pray like that you just know everything is going to work out for your good. You just know it. 

📖Verse 28 is based on verse 26 & 27

🔴 If you want everything to always turn out for your good,  practice verse 26 & 27.

📖 Colossians 4:12...  Epaphras was recorded to always do this.  He laboured fervently in prayer. It is to strive/to contend for something or with an adversary. Epaphras got into contention with some force on behalf on the saints in Colosse. 

1 Tim 6:12. Fight the good fight.

📖Genesis 20:17-18; 21:1

Abimelech had taken Abrahams wife until God talked to Abimelech in the night and instructed him to restore Sarah to her husband. At this time, Abraham already had the promise that he would bear a son through Sarah but there was no pregnancy yet. Abraham was told to pray for Abimelech.

(They had been made barren before because of Sarah). After Abraham prayed for Abimelech's household to receive children, Sarah was able to receive her miracle too.

📖Job 42:

Job had lost everything. 

His friends came to see him and were speculating as to what may have caused his downfall, asking him to repent of whatever sin he may have committed. 

God stepped in and corrected the friends that  they were wrong with what they said. God asked them to go to Job and ask him to pray for them. Job could have refused because he was angry at them. But he prayed for them and everything turned for his good.

📖 V10 - things turned around for him because  he prayed for his friends. 

God restored to him,  everything and twice as much.

🔴 There is a benefit in praying for others; When you take your attention away from yourself.

🔴 God will make happen to you and for you what you make happen for others.

🔴 This month is a month of Intercession.

Create your schedules. 

Give attention to the  needs of others.

[johnhardinsawyer]

"We Didn't Know At the Time. . ."

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

3 / 24 / 24 – Palm/Passion Sunday

Psalm 118:19-29

John 12:12-19

“We Didn’t Know At the Time. . .”

(Wandering Heart – Week 6)

“His disciples did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him.” (John 12:16)

We didn’t know at the time. . . how it was all going to go. . .  We had been traveling with Jesus for a while – some of us for several years.  We had been up North, hundreds of miles away from the city of Jerusalem, and Jesus had told us that he was going to end up going to Jerusalem.  He also told us that when he got there, he was going to suffer, and die, and be raised again.[1]  We sure didn’t like the “suffer and die” part and we sure didn’t know what the “raised again” part meant.  We didn’t know at the time how it was all going to go when Jesus rode into the city. . . but now we know.

We didn’t know at the time. . . who would be there. . .  We were used to people following Jesus.  I mean, we followed Jesus.  But we were used to crowds of people following him.  

Just a few days before we got to the outskirts of the city, we had been down in the ancient town of Jericho.  Jesus had met a man named Zacchaeus – a little fellow, a Tax Collector – and Jesus invited himself over to Zacchaeus’ house.  Everyone else was scandalized.  Here was this great teacher and rabbi, going to the house of a sinner!  We were used to things like this happening.  Jesus was always spending time with “the wrong people,” but somehow, when he went on his way, all of the “wrong people” had been made right with God and their neighbors.  The same thing happened to Zacchaeus.  “Today, salvation has come to the home of Zacchaeus. . .” Jesus said, “for the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” (Luke 19:9-10)  

On the way out of Jericho, there were two blind men crying out, “Have mercy on us, Lord, Son of David!” (Matthew 20:30)  They kept yelling it out and Jesus was moved by compassion and healed them.  They joined the crowd and followed Jesus up the mountain to Jerusalem, along with the rest of us.  

When we got up the mountain, we arrived at the village of Bethany.  This is where our friends Mary, Martha, and Lazarus lived.  Now, we had gotten word that Lazarus was sick, but by the time we got to the village, we learned that Lazarus had died.  Everyone was so sad, but Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life,” (John 11:25) and then he went to the tomb.  Everyone was crying and even Jesus began to weep when he saw everyone else crying.[2]  Jesus loved Lazarus – we all still do.  But when he said, “Roll away the stone!” (11:39) and “Lazarus, come out!” (11:43) Lazarus – who had been dead – came out, alive.  

We didn’t know at the time who would be there when Jesus rode into the city, but now we know that it was everyone who had heard about Lazarus[3], plus two formerly-blind men from Jericho, plus people who had been tax collectors and people who had been sick, and untouchable, and even dead. . .  We didn’t know at the time who would be there when Jesus rode into the city. . . but now we know.  

We didn’t know at the time. . . how it would happen. . .  When we were in Bethany, Jesus sent a couple of us to go and borrow a donkey – a colt that had never been ridden.[4]  “If anyone tries to stop you,” Jesus said, “just say, ‘The Lord needs it.’”  (Luke 19:31-34)  And sure enough, here they came with the donkey – the colt that no one had ever ridden. Most of us didn’t know at the time what the prophet Zechariah had said long ago, 

“Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!   Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!   Your king is coming!   A good king who makes things right,  a humble king riding a donkey, a  mere colt of a donkey.’[5]” 

Long ago, back in the time of King David, kings didn’t ride horses.  Nobody rode horses at the time.  Instead, the king of Israel would ride a mule – a donkey.[6]  

And, when Jesus began riding down the hill – down from Bethany on the Mount of Olives into the valley below, he could see the whole city, laid out before him:  there was the huge Temple with the Roman fortress right beside it.  There were the crowded streets, already filled with people who were there for the festival.  The hill, there, is steep.  Walking down the Mount of Olives into the valley below caused our legs to burn and our sandals to slap the cobblestones – but Jesus rode like the king he is.  

Partway down the hill, he stopped – the whole procession stopped.  And Jesus looked at the city.  And he began to cry.  And he said, “If you, O Jerusalem, even you had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace!  But now they are hidden from your eyes. . .” (Luke 19:42). Alas, times have not changed. . . 

We didn’t know at the time what Jesus meant. . . We didn’t know how it would all go. . . But now we know. . . 

We didn’t know at the time. . . what would happen that week. . .  Jesus rode into the city with crowds of people chanting, and singing, and waving palm branches[7] and throwing their cloaks on the ground[8] to keep the hooves of his borrowed donkey from touching the dirt.  “Hosanna!” they shouted.  “Lord, help!  Lord, save!  Help us – save us – we pray!”[9]  “We did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then we remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him.” (John 12:16)[10]  

Jesus rode up – out of the valley – and into the city and went straight to the Temple where he cleared out the money-changers.  “My Father’s house is supposed to be a house of prayer, but you have made it a place where robbers and thieves feel at home,” (Luke 19:46)[11] Jesus shouted.  He then spent time teaching in the Temple under the angry and watchful gaze of the chief priests, the scribes, and the leaders of the people.  These were the very people, he had told us, who would cause him to suffer and die.  They were looking for a way to kill him but all the other people were spellbound by what they heard.  Jesus was just that good.  

The chief priests and scribes tried to trap Jesus with arguments about the law and the prophets, but Jesus was just too smart for them and he side-stepped their verbal traps.  So, they decided to spring a physical trap.  

Somehow, they got one of our own – a man named Judas – to betray Jesus.  It happened on Thursday night – after we had eaten the Passover meal and after Jesus had washed our feet and told us to serve others in a similar way.  Jesus went to pray in a garden – outside the city walls, not far from where he had stopped to weep over the city – and that’s where they came to get him.  Judas led the Temple Guards and he kissed Jesus, giving him away, and Jesus was arrested.  The very thought that Judas would use a physical act of love to deceive and betray. . . it makes my blood boil.  At first, some of us wanted to fight – I even drew a sword – but then we all ran away. . .  When our friend Mark tells the story of that awful night, he mentions one of us, who ran right out of his clothes, trying to get away.[12]  Most of us had left everything behind to follow Jesus, but on that awful night, we left everything behind to get away from him.[13]

We didn’t know at the time. . . what would happen that week, but now we know.  And most of us are not too proud of how we acted.

We didn’t know at the time. . . how we would feel. . .  When Jesus rode into the city, we expected great things:  liberation, healing, justice, righteousness, power, and glory.  Everyone was excited, or so we thought.  When things took a bad turn and it didn’t turn out how we thought, we felt so confused.  We did not know that Jesus’ liberation and healing, justice and righteousness, power and glory would not come through some triumphant overthrow of earthly authorities.  

We didn’t know at the time that there could be any other way. . . but now we know that Jesus – in love, through love, by love – would humbly offer himself for the life of the world. . .  for all of us, no matter who we are.  Jesus liberates us from sin and death.  Jesus heals our broken spirits.  Jesus makes things just and right – between us and God, and between us and one another.  Jesus shows us that the greatest power we have is to serve others in loving self-sacrifice and any glory we may receive in this life comes from and belongs to God.  

We aren’t always going to get things right, but Jesus has already gotten it right and is at work on us and in us and through us through the Holy Spirit.  We won’t always know at the time that this Holy work is taking place right before our eyes, but all will be revealed.  We will know, in full, just as we are fully known by the One whose love for us knows no end.  

We didn’t know it at the time, on that day when Jesus rode into the city to cries of “Hosanna!” and palm branches being waved. . . but now we know. . . 

Now we know. . .

Thanks be to God!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

-------

[1] See Matthew 16:21 and 20:18-19.

[2] See John 11:35.

[3] See John 12:17.

[4] See Luke 19:30, ff.

[5] Eugene Peters, The Message: Numbered Edition (Colorado Springs: NAV Press, 2002) 1312. Zechariah 9:9.

[6] See 1 Kings 1:33, 2 Samuel 13:29, 18:9.

[7] The Gospel of John is the only version of the Palm Sunday story that mentions palms (see John 12:13).  

[8] See Matthew 21:8, Mark 11:8, and Luke 19:36.

[9] Walter Bauer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979) 899.

[10] Paraphrased, JHS.

[11] Paraphrased, JHS.

[12] See Mark 14:51.

[13] An interesting perspective from Abraham Kuruvilla, someone I might not normally read: https://voice.dts.edu/article/who-was-that-young-man-kuruvilla-abraham/

[rainsmediaradio]

Daily Hope Devotional by Rick Warren 19th December 2023 – Make Time for What Matters at Christmas.

TOPIC: Make Time for What Matters at Christmas. TODAY’S  SCRIPTURE: Luke 10:41-42 (NIV) “‘Martha Martha,’ the Lord answered, ‘you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.’”

RICK WARREN DAILY DEVOTIONAL FOR TODAY 19TH DECEMBER 2023

This Christmas, consider doing less, not more. By simplifying your life, you’ll have more enjoyment, more fulfillment, and less stress. At one of the busiest times of the year, we need to make sure we’re filling our calendars, our minds, and our hearts with what’s important—not trivial things that won’t even matter in five years, much less for eternity. The trivial things I’m talking about are not evil things. You can fill your life with good things that keep you from spending time with God. You can be involved in ministry all the time and be so busy working for God that you don’t leave God any time to work in you. An example of this can be seen in Mary and Martha, who were sisters and also friends of Jesus. One day they invited him to their home for a meal. Mary sat at the feet of Jesus, listening to his teaching. Martha was busy worrying about the food and making sure everything was in place. Doesn’t that sound like Christmas? You spend months buying and wrapping gifts, decorating the house, putting up the lights, fixing the tree, sending out cards, preparing meals, and planning parties. Then, when Christmas arrives, you realize you were so busy with the preparation that you didn’t make any time for Jesus. “Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, ‘Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!’ ‘Martha, Martha,’ the Lord answered, ‘you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her’” (Luke 10:40-42 NIV). Mary knew there was one thing worth her time: getting to know the Son of God. Nothing else will matter in eternity. God didn’t put you on earth just to work and then retire. He wants you to get to know him. My wish for you this Christmas is that you would stop, take a breath, and shift your focus to the one thing that matters most in this life: Jesus. Read the full article