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CHAPTER IV Here Is My Servant
The rabbi from the school of Shammai watched in what for him could only be described as a shock of revulsion. He had all he needed. It was time to go.
His report to the Sanhedrin was cold and unforgiving. He spoke of Jesus in profoundly accusative terms as if he were demonized, as if he were Beelzebub himself.
"The very next Sabbath after he cultivated a friendship with that publican," Asher continued, "I saw him cavorting in the wheat fields, his lemmings harvesting the grain for themselves--on the Sabbath, mind you--rubbing it of its hulls and consuming it right there in the fields." Asher became animated. "When Youssef, here asked him . . ."
At this point Youssef cut in, "I asked him plainly why they were doing what was obviously unlawful on the Sabbath? And do you know what this fool said?" Youssef paused as if waiting for an answer from the Jewish leadership. None came.
Asher spoke again. "He referred to that obscure passage in the first book of Samuel where David and his soldiers ate of the hallowed bread . . ."
"And he couldn't get his facts straight," chimed Youssef. "He said it was in the days of Abiathar, the high priest, when in fact it was Ahimelech. Open and see for yourself. If he were of God he would know his Scriptures better." In thus saying, Youssef had embarrassed himself. It was indeed in the days of Abiathar's service as High Priest. Ahimelech, his father, was simply serving as the Temple priest on the day of David's intrusion.
Asher glared at the younger Pharisee's stupidity and continued, "And then this false prophet said that the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath." At that, Nicodemus, who had been listening to Asher's report, chuckled. His mirth did not go unnoticed.
"I see little that is amusing," spoke one of the rabbis. "This man may be dangerous."
"You haven't heard the worst," continued Asher. "His arrogance knows no limit. He actually said, and this is a direct quote, 'The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.' Did he not use these exact words, Youssef?" Youssef nodded an enthusiastic affirmative.
Jesus did absolutely nothing to allay fears about himself. In some cases his behavior seemed clearly designed to exacerbate those fears. Conversely, he did everything to reach out to those in personal pain. He gave no quarter to his critics while sacrificing himself for those who needed him. He did all he could, it seemed, to alienate and annoy religious leadership, those who strictly adhered to religious form, legalists all. Yet he met with compassion and love those whose hearts were open to him. These things did not endear him to human institutions. Especially those that believed they were instituted by God. In their eyes, Jesus had set himself against God. For them, Jesus was definitively antinomian--against the Law of God! He showed no deference to his "religious superiors," and no regard for the traditional laws and time-honored doctrines. Jesus plowed his own furrow. He was thought unmanageable. A maverick. A rogue. A rebel. An insufferably young and foolish renegade. The good he did was lost on those who could not see beyond his apparent disregard for form and cliqueish theological proposition. In fact, they were enraged by this disregard because it appeared to validate his repudiation of their obdurate rectitude. When he healed, it fanned flames of rage because the institution could not duplicate it. His teaching declared religious form to be vacuous and vain, bankrupt of moral and compassionate values, utterly lacking in authentic sensitivity to God. Many years later, it would be the same. People would fail to see that he came not to enforce the Law, but to satisfy its demands. What they did not comprehend, was that to fulfill the Law meant to satisfy its requirements. Thus, in satisfying its requirements, these demands are at the same time both affirmed and resolved. They peal from the holiness of God and are answered in the echo of the crucifixion. Otherwise, there is no point in satisfaction. In its satisfaction, the Law is established; it is credentialed. But in its satisfaction, the Law that reveals human darkness gives place to grace and truth, to embrace human redemption. The coercive force of the Law of God is henceforth met and sated in this Carpenter who calls himself the Son of Man. Jesus came, therefore, to give to those who would receive it a new Law, the Taskmaster of Love, the Judgment of Grace, the Justice of Compassion. In so doing, he brought release from religious bondage. He requited the vengeance of a Law that accused.
Another Sabbath. Jesus entered the synagogue at Capharnaum and was immediately invited to teach. This was now the pattern wherever he went. The multitude crushed to hear him. The local rabbis naturally resented this, but some welcomed him. Some did not know what to do with him. All extended to him the liberty of preaching and teaching in their synagogues. They would not have dared do otherwise. On this Sabbath, the Jewish religious leadership had come deliberately seeking a reason to accuse him. They had persuaded a man whose right hand was shriveled to attend the service just to bait Jesus, just to see if the Carpenter would heal on the Sabbath. The man did not have to be encouraged. He longed to be able to use his hand. When the rabbis approached him, what did he have to lose? So, encouraged, he placed himself up close to where Jesus was teaching so that he could not be missed. At points when Jesus paused, the man gestured, looking at his arm and then back at Jesus, holding it up so it could be seen. He sought not the Lord for worship, nor to learn, but to have his arm healed and perhaps to appease the legalists in the bargain. Jesus, of course, was not a fool. He surmised what this man wanted and that he had been put up to it. He looked around at the religious prigs in irritation, distressed at their unwarranted enmity. He would give them what they wanted and without equivocation. He said, therefore, to the man with the shriveled arm, "Get up and stand here in front of everyone." The man stepped up on the dais. Then looking directly at the lawyers, Jesus said to them, "I ask you, judicious jurists all, which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to destroy it?" He waited. He looked at each one, establishing withering individual eye contact. There was no response. Smiling as if satisfied, he said to the man, "Go ahead then, stretch out your hand." The man surprised, responded, "What?" "Stretch out your hand!" Jesus commanded, loudly and with force, his irritation unsheathed. Jesus held unmitigated contempt for burdensome, religious strictures. He seemed to enjoy the public display of such contempt. He did not fear its probable consequences. If the Son of God can be said to hate, he hated these strictures. He rejected with vigor anything that vacated by its very existence the exigencies of human kindness and compassion. Timidly now, with uncertainty, the man raised his hand and as he did, it was completely restored. The leader of the Pharisees clapped his hands, causing others to do the same. But his applause was a mockery. He was at the same time furious and elated. This witless pseudo-prophet, this absurd pretender had fallen like a ripe fig into his hands. They now had obvious reason to retaliate. He had violated the Law of God with a high hand and with arrogance. This primitive bumbler's days were numbered. Immediately he consorted with his colleagues who in turn began to plan. Jesus, with disgust, withdrew from that place. All of this resulted in even greater popularity for Jesus. News about him spread everywhere, and people brought to him all who were ill with various diseases, those suffering severe pain, the demon possessed, those having seizures, and the paralyzed. He did not hold back. He healed them all. Large crowds from Galilee, the Decapolis and Jerusalem followed him. The whole of Palestine, it seemed, were streaming toward this young man who held such hope, such promise. When those possessed of evil spirits saw him, they fell down before him and cried out, "You are the Son of God." But he quieted them. And thus was fulfilled what was spoken by Isaiah, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he leads justice to victory. In his name the nations will put their hope." Jesus withdrew to the lake. People followed him, crowding him. Those with diseases were pushing forward to touch him. A solitary boat lay tied to the dock. "Get me into that boat," he said to Peter. Peter rallied James, Andrew and the rest of us, and forming a wedge, we forced our way onto the dock. Reaching the boat, we maneuvered Jesus into it and cast off. The crowd pressed so that it appeared the dock might collapse. Some actually fell into the water and waded toward him. Immediately Peter pulled the boat into deeper water. "That is far enough," said Jesus intending to continue speaking. He was ignored. In a moment, Peter had raised sail and the boat was gone. Jesus lay back on a coil of rope, exhausted. "They are as sheep," he said, weakly. "This is madness," said Peter just loud enough for me to hear him.
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