And We Thought We Knew You:
Soul Journey With the Real Jesus
Jealous Neighbors
JUST A HOME BOY
Late Winter AD 29
Capernaum, Galilee
           "Message for Jesus of Nazareth.� Does he live here?"
         "Yes, I'll take it for him," Judas answers with a smile.� "Thank you."
         The small scroll is duly delivered.
         "Greetings from your sister whom you never see any more.� How about coming back down to Nazareth awhile?� Deborah's birthday is coming up.� Wouldn't it be a great surprise for her?� It will be like old times.� You can stay with us.� We have an extra bedroom.� And, if you bring any friends, we'll find room for them too." [1]
         A family reunion.� What a good idea.� It will be nice returning to his hometown and seeing all his old friends and teachers, walking through the market again, going into the synagogue where he grew up and went to school.� Yes, it is indeed a good idea.
         He thinks ahead who he can get help to house his friends.� He now has twelve of them.� Perhaps he had better write back and tell his sister so she can be ready for them all.� He never goes anywhere without them any more. [2]
Nazareth, Galilee [3]
         A couple weeks later Jesus walks through the gate of his home town nostalgically.� Memories move in on him.� Oh the memories....
         Jesus pauses as he stares at the familiar city square.� In his mind he sees some little boys in a race around the square.� He is one of them.� He visualizes his little legs carrying him as fast as they could to the first bush.� His ears recall the warnings of the grownups ~ especially his father ~ calling out, "Now don't you hurt yourself, Jesus."� Ah, those were the days.
         His twelve friends stand back in satisfaction, watching their teacher.� They know what he is doing.� It is refreshing to see him do it.� How he needed this rest.
         He walks on down the street and sees the synagogue where he went to school.� He was just five years old when he started.� What was that first rabbi's name?� Oh, yes.� Nahum.� Never forget him.� Hair growing out of his nose.� And the way he laughed, subconsciously closing his throat half way so the air had to scrape its way through....�
         He stops and watches.� A door opens and young children come running out to play ball in the street a few minutes and relax.� He can see the arrangement of benches on the inside as they hold the door open for the stream of children.� Pretty much the way it was when he was young.� The gouge on the side of the building where a boy threw a dagger he found in his father's things.� Jesus recalls the deep scrape on his knee from kicking a ball, then falling onto a large stone in the street.� He still has his scar.� No miracles in those days though.� He smiles to himself. [4]
         There at the back of the synagogue he sees the tree he and the others used to hang on with its low branches.� The tree where he experimented with tiny muscles and gravity.� He recalls a much more distant past.� The past when he, yet in heaven, created gravity. [5]� Little did he know how much fun he would have some day centuries later playfully defying it.� Another smile.
         A whim hits him.� Let's see.� It was over on that street.� He turns right and checks the buildings as he passes them.� No, not there.� Not there either.� Is he remembering right?�� So much has changed.� Well, there's where the street performers used to play their flutes.� A building has been put up there now.� On down the street.� Is he remembering right?� Then he see it.� The little inn that served the best lentil stew in any town around.� His visits after school on the way home all attested to it.
         A big grin takes over his nostalgic smile and Jesus motions with a wide swing of his arm for his friends to follow him.
         Come on, men.� It's lunch time! [6]
         "Lunch?� We had a late breakfast.� It's too early for lunch."
        Lunch, anyway. �We're having some of the greatest lentils this side of the Mediterranean.� After you, gentlemen.
         The twelve file after him with playful smiles, mostly grinning over their leader's, well, strut.� They think he's actually strutting.� You know, the kind that plagues a lot of teenage boys.
         Yes siree, Jesus recalls as he leads them to the door.� Spent lots of shekels after school in here.
         Immediately, they smell the aroma.� Suddenly they all feel they could probably find room in their stomachs for one bowl of these out-of-this-world lentil stews.� Maybe pleasing Jesus wouldn't be so bad after all.
         They are led to a large table in the back of the room.� Jesus sits with his back to the wall so he can survey his memories.�
         Hey, have you still got that cat?� What was his name?� Jonah?
         "Died last year.� Hey, how did you know that?"
        I'm Jesus.
         The two men stare at each other.� Their memories sharpen and collide in delight.� Jesus has only been gone a couple years, but Jesus hadn't been in the hostel in several years.  Plus, when a person is not expected and comes in with a dozen other men, no one pays much attention to any one of them.
         Well, I'll be!� It's you, Barnabus.� You're still kicking around here, huh?
         "Jesus, is that you?"
        Yes, it's me.
         "Good to have you back in town.� How long are you going to be here?"
         Oh, a week or two.� We'll see.
         "How are your mother and father?"
       Fine. [7]
         "Salome was just in here last week with one of her sons.� Good to see you again, Jesus.� Thanks for remembering us."
        Who could forget?
         His twelve friends just order stew.� That is not enough for Jesus.
         Still got that special stew with honey mixed in it?
         "You betcha!"
         An hour later the group is back on the street.
         Jesus continues on through town and into the market place.� His favorite sandal shop is still there.� That's about all.� He continues slowly through the rows of booths.� He stops.�
         Hey, guys.� Over here!
         His dozen friends have been lagging behind looking through some of the other shops.�
         "What now, Jesus?"
         How about some desert?
         "After two bowls of lentil stew?"
         We'll top it off with some famous date-nut bread.� Come on, guys!� What are you waiting for?
         They all file over to the bread shop and order their date-nut bread.� All but Matthew.� He is allergic to nuts.� But then, Matthew's weird.
         There should be an empty lot half a block.� We can eat it there.
         As Jesus strolls leisurely down the familiar street, his nostalgia is interrupted.
         "Jesus, is that you?"
         He turns.� He stares.� The other man stares too.
         "Jesus?"
         Hosea?
         "It IS you!"
         The two men walk toward each other and give each other a hug and kiss on each cheek.
         Oops, almost got date-nut bread on you.
         "What brings you to town, old boy?"
         Visiting my sisters.
         "Great.� I'd like to get together while you're here.� Where are you staying?"
         With Salome.
         "Great!� I'll come by in a few days.� Good seeing you again, Jesus.� It's been a long time."
         Yes.� A long time.
         Their date-nut bread sufficiently consumed, someone gives Jesus a hint.�
         "Uh, Jesus.� You don't think you could deliver us to your sister's house, then come back into town by yourself?"
         Well, I'm about ready myself.� Don't want to keep Salome waiting.
         They head out toward a residential neighborhood, make a couple turns down side streets, and finally arrive at the house.
         We're here.
         A young woman with a toddler hanging on to her skirt answers the knock and comes running out of the house.
         "Oh, Jesus.� It's so good to see you again."
         They give each other a familiar hug while the others watch awkwardly.
         How is the growing family?
         "Oh, we're just fine.� Matthan, this is your uncle Jesus.� He came to see us for Aunt Deborah's birthday.� Say hello to uncle."
         "Hello, Uncy," the toddler responds shyly.
         Jesus takes him in his arms.
         A big tyke, aren't you fella?
         Matthan looks into Jesus' eyes and pulls on his beard.� Then he wriggles loose.� Jesus sets him down.
         Salome, these are my friends.� He introduces them all, and they greet her warmly.� And of course, you know Andrew and Peter.
         "Good you see you again, gentlemen.� Well, everyone come on in," Salome says leading the way into the courtyard.� "I've got some chairs up on the roof for everyone."
         They walk through the courtyard and up the stairs.
         "Fresh wine anyone?" [8]
         No one is interest.� Except for Matthew.� He didn't indulge in the date-nut bread like everyone else.
         "Fine.� I'll get you some.� And I'll send someone to tell Deborah and Martha that you have arrived."
         In a little while they hear the gate latch down below.
         "That's my husband.� He'll be glad to see you."
         They wait a few minutes, and soon Matthat senior appears in the courtyard below.� Jesus walks over so he can see his brother-in-law.
         "Hey, there, Jesus," he calls up.� "You're looking good.� A little skinny, but looking good."
         "I don't think he eats like he should, do you big brother?"
         The men greet each other, then go through introductions.� "And, of course you know Andrew and Peter."
         "Yes, hello.� Glad you could come along.� Honey," he adds, changing the subject, "got the grill ready?"
         "No, could you get it lit?� I'll bring out the ribs of lamb."
         Salome works to get dinner ready for the evening while the men on the roof swap stories.�
         Suddenly Jesus' vision goes black.�
         Okay, so who's the wise guy? he calls out playfully.
         That has to be Martha the lark-a!
         Delicate hands are taken down from Jesus face.� He turns around in excitement.���
         You're not that kid I used to swing around in the courtyard when we were young any more.
         "Nor are you staying still so I can sneak up behind you to blind you either!"
         They laugh.� Everyone laughs.� It's family.
         "And these, of course, are your friends," she acknowledges, looking toward the twelve.
         Introductions again.
         "Abijah will be here in a jiff.� He's bringing the pomegranates in.� We heard you weren't coming alone."
         Did you say pomegranates?
         "And they're soaked in honey.� Your very favorite."
         Jesus does not recall it being his favorite, but would never correct her.�
         Soon Abijah walks up the stairs with a toddler on his shoulders and another one behind him with a big ball engulfing his hand.
        Hey there, big guy?� Want to toss that ball to your ole Uncle Jesus?
         More laughter.� More stories of the good old days.� The lamb ribs are about to burn.
         "Where's the birthday girl?"
         "Oh, Deborah.� You know she has always been late to everything."
         Still?
         "Yes, still."
         But they're interrupted by a loud banging on the gate.
         "They're here!"
         "Get ready, everyone."
         Everyone rushes down to the courtyard grinning, though half of the group never saw Deborah before and would never recognize her without help.� But they go anticipatingly anyway, enjoying the life and love of a typical family reunion.
         Deborah walks in through the gate holding a baby in her arms, her husband at her side.
         "Happy birthday!" they all shout joyously.
         Deborah goes over to her big brother, playfully twists his nose, then gives him a big hug.
         The evening progresses happily and the siblings are reunited, trying to outdo each other with stories.
         Now, that's not the way it happened.� I'm older.� I know.
         Sooner than expected it is night and the mosquitoes are out.
         "Well, tomorrow is the sabbath and synagogue."
         "Yes, we'd better get these tired children home."
         Everyone hugs and bids each other good night.� Jesus, Peter, James and John go on into the house and sit in a large gathering room.� They are interrupted soon after sitting down.
         "Jesus, it's for you.� I didn't know anyone else knew you were here."
         He walks out to the courtyard.� It is Hosea.� He is talking more soberly this time.
         "Jesus, could I talk to you?� I know it's late, but...."
         Sure, Hosea.� Anything for an old friend.
         Jesus accompanies Hosea into the sitting room.�
         You can talk in front of my friends.
         "Well, I hardly know how to say this.� Uh, well, after all, I went half way through school with you before I had to drop out and help more with the farm.� But, I've heard things.� Things like, well, that you can heal people."� He pauses to see if Jesus sloughs off such a ridiculous suggestion.  "Can you do that, Jesus?� Can you really make people well?"
         What's wrong with you, Hosea?
         "It's not me.� It's my wife.� She's waiting at home.� She needs help.� Can you help us, Jesus?"
         Go get her.
         Martha gets nervous.� She does not like all this talk about her brother being sent by God.� She knows better.� Why don't they just leave her brother alone?
         The conversation remains more subdued.� In a little while Hosea returns with a small woman.� It is now dark and officially the sabbath.� She is wheezing.�
         "She can hardly breathe.� It happens during spring and harvest every year.� Can you help her?� Please?"
         Jesus walks toward her.� He looks into her eyes and she into his.� They stand there a moment.� Then he smiles.
         Okay.� You're fine now.
         "I can breathe!� I can breathe!� And I don't even have to labor for the breath.� It's just there!� The air is just there. �Thank you, Jesus.� Thank you."
         "You must be the one sent by God," Hosea says seriously.� Tell me more.� Please, I want to know more."
         It is dark now.� The evening wears on.� It is now midnight.
         "It's synagogue day tomorrow.� We need to go home and let you get some rest, Jesus.� Are you speaking?"
         I don't know.� But will if asked.
         "I hope they ask."
         The next morning Jesus asks if they still start worship services in mid morning.
         "Yes.� That bunch down there at the synagogue will never change.� The only synagogue in the province that waits until mid-morning to start."
         Jesus and his friends walk a few blocks to the old synagogue.� The one Jesus attended as a child.� They approach the door. [9]
         "Welcome, friends.� Glad to have you this morning."
         The rabbi at the door does not recognize Jesus.� He is new.� Jesus goes on in, and turns toward the stairs leading to the basement.� Slowly he walks past his old classrooms.� The classrooms where he learned the names of all the prophets and memorized the Ten Commandments.� The classrooms where he amazed his teachers on occasion, much to the consternation of his peers.
         "Show off," they would taunt.� Especially Ahaz.� Ahaz couldn't stand Jesus.� He was always trying to get Jesus into trouble.
         He walks back upstairs and into the sanctuary.� He stands at the back and looks over to the right about half way up.� That's where the males in his family always sat.  Opposite on the left is where his mother and sisters always sat.�
         "Jesus, is that you?"
         He turns.� Hezron?
         "You bet!� How have you been, ole boy?"� He pauses, winks, then adds, "I've been hearing things about you."
         Yes, well....
         "Been preaching."
         Yes.
         "Bet I could pull some strings and get them to let you preach this morning for us.� That would be great.� Home boy makes good.� Just wait right here."
         A few moments later, Hezron returns with a nod.� "The way is cleared for you, Jesus.� You're preaching this morning.� What will it be like up there in front instead of half way down where your family always sat?"
         Others walk in.� The word spreads.� Jesus is back.� Welcome home, Jesus.� Glad to see you again, Jesus.� What have you been up to, Jesus?� Skinny as ever, aren't you, Jesus?
         The service begins.� Jesus is finally given an introduction.�
         He stands.� He surveys the crowd.� So many familiar faces.� A little older, but familiar.� Warm feelings come over him.� Will they feel the same way toward him?� He must not hold back.� They must know.� They must be told.� He scrolls through the fine scripture scroll kept at the synagogue until he finds it.� Their ancestor, a prophet of God, wrote it.�
         "Let us all stand for the reading of God's word," someone announces.� Then Jesus reads. [10]
         "God's spirit is on me.� He ordained me to teach the good news to the destitute.� He sent me to free the prisoners, bring sight to the blind, release the tyrannized, and proclaim the year of God's eternal blessing."  [11]
        Jesus rolls the scroll back up, and sits down on the speaker's seat on the podium.� Every eye in the audience is on him.� It is quieter than usual.� Everyone has heard the rumors.� Rumors that can't possibly be true. �Surely he won't try to fool his old friends.� He can't pull the wool over their eyes like he has everyone else.� They know him too well. [12]
         Jesus stares back.� He knows their hearts are already set against him.� But he must try.� He opens his mouth to speak.� What will God tell them?
         "Right here and now at this time and date, this scripture is fulfilled." [13]
         Stirring among the people.� Whispering.� Shuffling.� Finally quiet again.� Give the man a chance, everyone.� Give him a chance. [14]
         Jesus looks over at his sisters and their family, then to the audience in general. [15]� He quotes other scriptures.� He explains them clearly and wisely.� His old teachers begin to swell up with pride.� They did a very good job with this young man, didn't they?
         Looking around at all of the grins, someone mumbles audibly ~� on purpose ~� "He's not so hot.� His father is Joseph and his mother Mary.� We all know that."� It's Ahaz.� Unmistakably Ahaz. [16]
         "Hey, how about a miracle?"
         "He's a fake!"
         "Come on, do a miracle!"
         This is not a good time.� Things are not going as well as in other places.� He does not speak.� Neither does anyone else.� Complete silence.
         No one comes forward at first.� Finally someone shuffles out of their row and to the aisle.� Then someone else.� And someone else.� After awhile there are a half dozen people down front.
         Now what?� Now, son of God.� Son of Joseph.� Or whoever you are.� Now what?� All is quiet.� They wait for Jesus.� He walks over to the first person.� And without asking any questions, he speaks.  Quietly he speaks.
         Your cold is healed.
         Then to the next person.�
         Your foot rash is gone.
         Then to the next.
        Your stomach flu is over.
         And the next.
         That wasp sting will not bother you any more.
         And next.
         That bruise from the fall is gone.
         Next.
        Your dandruff is cured.
         There is smiling.� But it is such an anticlimax.� Jesus looks at his audience.� He sees people with crippling arthritis, missing fingers from an accident at work, painful liver complications, and blindness.� None came to him.� How his heart aches.� Their faith is so weak.� So very weak. [17]
         He sits down next to the healed ones.� The rabbi in charge of stands and faces the audience.
         "We can certainly say it is good that we have been here this morning.� We have heard an amazing sermon to say the least.� And those miracles!� What wonders he has wrought among us, brethren.� Flu and everything.� Surely God has blessed our humble assembly."
         But before he can announce the closing benediction, someone else walks toward the platform.
         "Brethren, we must be careful that we're not carried away.� This is just Jesus.� We knew all his brothers James, Joseph, Judas and Simon.� All of his sisters are still here with us.� Half the men in this audience beat his team in races.� You don't see him raising the dead like we're hearing.� That's because he can't really do it.� He's just one of us.� I caution you, brethren."
         Now Jesus is back on his feet.� He walks toward the platform to take another turn.� He has taken the bait.� He knows he has been set up.� Just like in the old days. �But he must push them to make a decision one way or the other.
         "So, I guess you're all thinking, 'Doctor, heal yourself!' "' he begins.� 'Do here in your hometown what everyone really knows you what you claim to have done in Capernaum.' "� He sees Martha in the audience.� She has lowered her head.� He knows he is embarrassing her.� But he must go on.� She does not understand.� He is more than just her brother.� He is her savior, her creator. [18]
         "As you know, a teacher is honored everywhere except in his own home town and among his own relatives and family," he continued.� "No great teacher is accepted at home."
         Now that Jesus has broken open their hearts, he must go on.� Keep pushing.
         "You are just like the people in our ancestor Elijah's home province.� There were many needy widows all around him when the drought came.� But no one in Palestine asked for his help; only a woman from Lebanon."
         Now wait just a minute, Jesus.� Are you saying those Lebanese are better than us?
         "And there were many people with leprosy living all around our ancestor, Elisha.� But no one in all of Palestine came to him for healing except a man from up in Syria." [19]
         Now what?� Will the others recognize themselves and ask Jesus to heal them?� Will they quit holding back?� Will they come to him and be made well and whole again?� Will they?� No, they will not.
         Ahaz stands up in a rage.� "Do you hear that, brethren?� Can we stand for such outrage anymore.� This Jesus was always such a show off.� He has not changed one iota.� He is the same as he always was.� A smart aleck.� An egotistic trouble maker."
         "He is declaring treason!"
         "He is saying other countries are better than ours."
         "Call the authorities, someone!"
         "Get him out of here!" [20]
         Suddenly a crowd of men swarm the front and grab hold of Jesus.� Jesus, their former playmate.� Jesus, their former team mate.� Jesus, their former classmate.� Jesus, still the one trying to turn the parents and the rabbi and the Levite against the rest of them.� Well, he won't get by with it this time.�
         "Get word to the Roman guard!� Turn him over to the authorities!"
         But a few more aggressive ones grab hold of Jesus and secure his hands behind his back.� They push him down the aisle and out the door.
         "No!� Let him go!� Let my brother go!"� It is Martha.� She is pushed out of the way.
         The crowd grows.� They have a grand purpose.� They must protect their religion.
         "Don't let him get away!"�
         "He never hurt any of you!" Salome shouts, trying to break into the crowd.� "Let him go!"
         It is now a mob.
         The Roman guard will never do anything!� Religion means nothing to them.� For the sake of God's nation and the Temple, they must do it themselves.
         "We'll show him!"
         "No!� Stop!� Don't do this!� Jesus!"� It is Deborah.
         The men push their way down the street, out of town and up the rocky precipice that is good for nothing else but rubbish and dregs and scum.� They head for the city dump.  Severral women mingle with the mob.
         "He's finally getting what's coming to him!"
         Salome, Martha, and Deborah stand in the middle of the street.
         "Please, not Jesus," they moan amidst tears.� "Not Jesus...."
         The mob grows ruthless.� Now is their chance.� Finally their chance.� The chance most of them wanted to have at him growing up.� Now he's going to get his.�
         "Turncoat!"
         "What are they doing to Uncle Jesus?"
         "Hypocrite!"
         He was illegitimate anyway.� Everyone knows Mary was pregnant when Joseph married her.� Good people were not seen associating with Jesus ~ or anyone else in their family. [21]
         "Bastard!"
         "Stop them someone...."� No one hears.� Or wants to.
         Now at the precipice.� Now at the top of the cliff.� Now where broken pottery, dead animals, and rotting clothes are thrown out.� Now where broken hearts, dead lives, and rotting souls are throwing down their only hope.
         Dust stirring everywhere.�
         "Get up there, you, Jesus!� Get up on the edge so we can show the world that you're just flesh and blood like the rest of us!"�
         Shouting everywhere.�
         "You were born like us.� You will die like us.� Only you'll do it a little sooner than the rest of us."
         Arms and fists everywhere.
         "Always had to be first, didn't you?� Well, it'll be a pleasure seeing you go first this time, pretty boy!"
         "Well?� Throw him down, someone!� Throw him down!"
         The crowd stops
at the edge of the cliff
and looks around
confused....
         The dust has settled.� The shouts have stopped.� The air has cleared.
         "Where is he?"
         "Did we do it?� Is he dead?"
         They look down but do not see him.�  One man climbs to the bottom of the cliff for a better inspection.� No body.�
         "Go after him!� Don't let him get away!"
         "Is there a reward for him?"
         "I heard King Herod is thinking about it."
         "That's good enough for me."
         "Get him!� Get Jesus!"
         They search through the dump among the debris and the stench, the rubbish and the filth.� Search for Jesus.� Search in all the wrong places. [22]
         Salome is now back home.� Martha and Deborah are there too.� They alternate between hysteric sobbing and silent anguish.
         "Oh, Jesus.� If you had just kept your mouth shut.� But you had to make waves."
         "Oh, Jesus.� How are we going to tell our parents?"
         There is a knock on the gate.� A small scroll is delivered.
         "He's alive!"
         "What?"
         "It's in Jesus' handwriting!� He's alive!"
         "But how?"
         "It does not say.� It just says, 'I am safe.' "
         Now the tears of relief.� And confusion.� And frustration.
         The sisters wonder if they can ever show their face at that synagogue again.� Not after what big brother pulled.� They recall all the arguments growing up.� All their jealousies.�
         "How could he humiliate the family like that?"
         "I'll never go back to that synagogue."
         "I don't ever want to see him again."
         "Oh, Jesus, how could you do this to us?� How could you?" [23]
���������������������������������������������������������� LIFE APPLICATION
1.�������� I Timothy 4:1-3 says,� "The Spirit clearly says that in later times some will abandon the faith and follow deceiving spirits and things taught by demons....They forbid people to marry and order them to abstain from certain foods, which God created to be received with thanksgiving."� Do some religions disregard this?� How does it make you feel?
2.�������� The Apostle Paul said in Romans 6:4, "We are buried with him [Jesus] through baptism."� He said in Colossians 2:12, "Having been buried with him [Jesus] in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God who raised him from the dead."� When the Apostle Philip baptized an Ethiopian, "Both Philip and the eunuch went down into the water and Philip baptized him.� When they came up out of the water...." (Acts 8:38-39).� What does this tell you that baptism is?� Are you glad you discovered these passages?
3.�������� The Old Testament prophecied powerful countries would be reduced or go out of existence ~ Babylonians, Persians, Grecians, Egyptians, Phoenicians, Hittites, Caananites, Moabites, Edomites, Midianites, etc.� Read the last twelve short books at the end of the Old Testament.� No human could have known this.� Will you show this black-and-white evidence to someone?� What are the chances that everyone you tell will be glad you did?
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