Hornswoggled: Captured In His Love

  Reflections

  Two weeks later, still in the same dungeon, not alone, but as of yet have not seen, but only heard those that were incarcerated with me in this almost blackened place of underground real-estate, and at every turn of events, I found space to rejoice.

  The almost daily beatings, for the most part, have stopped, and still not having met any of the other inmates, but speaking often with them, we began building a repertoire of friendships. Each man classified a criminal, but having done nothing that could separate any from the Love of God. Sometimes we’d sing together, sometimes pray, but always did we talk, and on many occasions, at length.

  After many months of interrogations, and now understanding that I was not to bow to their set of self-made rules, the elders assigned a young scribe to do that which they couldn’t, that is break me to their will. He was to relentlessly harass and agitate me until, supposedly, I began to see their point of view, and submit myself to their idea of godliness.

  His name was Jereriah, not much older than I was when asked by Jesus to go fishing for men. A well-mannered youth with very little knowledge of scripture, but made up for it in his willingness to please those that sent him. The first day we met, who knows, it could have night, it was a rainy one, for when it rained, water would trickle down the walls and fill the stone floor with ankle deep moisture, making for a very uncomfortable experience. He’d brought me food that was better prepared than that of the last few months, and appeared polite in every way, but had a determine look about him, as it was apparent that a mission was to be accomplished. But I sure didn’t think that the task assigned to him was of his nature, and I’m not really sure that Jereriah even understood just what his commission was to incur. And from the other stand-point; they didn’t know that he didn’t know.

  We talked for hours, mostly just the introduction stuff, with each trying to gain a feel about the other. He was raised a Jew, from the tribe of Benjamin, and lived, his only few decades, within the city that we both now presided. When he talked, there was firmness about his demeanor that just didn’t quite add up, acting as if this goal was to be conquered by a rigid rough attitude. But we talked, and day after day Jereriah would arrive carrying that same brashness to his approach of my conversion, wanting only to please those above him, and, I think, make a name for himself.

  Through the first year of this adventure with Jereriah we learned of each other’s little quirks, and we began to grow fond of the one that so much time was spent with, at least I did him. Even though his attempt to hide his true personality behind the stern facial expressions, and with the tone of voice, I could easily tell that he was a man of mixed feelings about my stay in this dark hole. For once in a while his friendliness would creep out to exact his true nature, I really liked this boy.

  Jereriah’s interest in me, and the things that I said, began penetrating within him, as more and more questions were asked; and them edging towards the things I knew about the Lord. He’d ask about Jesus, how He saw things, about His temperament, about the folks healed, about the meanings of the parables, and mostly about the general stuff that one would like to know if there was a genuine interest in them. We’d talk for hours, and as the weeks ran into another one, the conversation evolved more and more toward the things of God, and Him personified. The questions asked became extensively deepened as each was expounded on, and the perception received.

  Jereriah was a man much like me, especially in my youth. When about his age, I too grew up around the temple and the synagogues, understanding little, but doubtful about much. He knew his obedience toward the law was required by family and those that surrounded him, and gave little thought otherwise, except in secret. And at this point, I think, he began to question the ideologies and rituals of that certain religion, even before we met, but having had so many of his impressionable years given to it, knew of no other course to take. He did what was expected of him. Anyway, Jereriah’s interest in this new-found Gospel intrigued him in every way, hitting home on many of the questions and answers that the past so many years of evaluating, created.

  Within the first three or four months, I’d told him that more time was spent either talking with him or interceding for him, than all the time put together that I’d spent with my wife.

  His response was; “not all marriages were meant to be, and I’m sorry that yours didn’t work out.”

  I looked at him, smiled, and proceeded to tell him how much love and tenderness that my marriage had brought to the both of us. “If not for her love toward me, and the concern and affection she showed, my life might have been in a place that I shudder to imagine. And when meeting Jesus; and her knowing the emptiness that I felt about life otherwise, her love encouraged me to find that missing link of Life, a decision neither her, nor I ever regretted. I have so much love for that woman, at times, it’s hard to contain, and her for me.”

  Jereriah smiled back, reaching for my hands, grasping them tightly, breathed a sigh of relief, and said; “thank you.”

  We both just sat there with no words spoken, both soaking in the ambiance of the love spoken about, and seeing, thru my eyes, a man melting into a dimension never ventured. It was at first hard for him to understand that my walk with Jesus, whether Him being on earth, or Him living within, was worth every effort of sacrifice either was to endure. He just couldn’t stop smiling.

  This pause must have lasted for close to an hour, and as he stood to leave, only the two small words spoken, still smiling and relaxed in every muscle of the body, Jereriah left with that loudness of silence.

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  Over the next year or so, Jereriah, still assigned to me as an interrogator; and we spent must time together, almost on a daily basis, and became the closest of friends. As I watched him, and he watching me, we both could see in the other that our lives were changing, for his so-called daily cross-examinations of me turned into a profound fellowship of friends. His heart was enlightened with the radiance of Christ; that which was taught from his youth vaporized into the oblivion, and I also began seeing those fumbles of my early immaturity, as now seen, as the path that I had to take and learn from. I was learning, and so was he.

  The dungeon was dark, and without the one torch that hung on the wall thirty feet away, there would have been no light at all. At night, which would never have been noticed, I was alone, except for the sounds of other prisoners long past my viewpoint, and at day, Jereriah was always there. The only way to ascertain my days from the nights was my friend’s morning arrivals, and by this everyday occurrence, it was quite easy to maintain stability. Each night the torch would burn out, but each morning my new-found acquaintance would refurbish it with a new one.

  The knowledge I gained from the quiet of night, and the conversations by day, regenerated the seeds planted by Christ, and I continued to grow. I never would have known the deep effect of the teachings of Jesus without this solitude that gave me time to evaluate. The questions asked by Jereriah caused me to dig deep for the truth of an honest answer, therefore creating growth in me thru His wisdom, which was a welcomed and appreciated alternative of even that which was accumulated under that Carob tree.

  The next morning, still pitch black, I heard the familiar footsteps of Jereriah’s approach, and then the fresh light from the new torch, as the same pleasant face made itself clear. Each night he seemed to measure up more question as his interest in Christ grew. And on this particular day wanted to know what was meant when I said; “by His stripes you are healed.”

  “Friend and fellow disciple, this answer has two meanings, and each has its great value. For by the so-called punishment given to Jesus by the Romans, and the great suffering He endured, and doing so in our place, we are healed, no longer accountable for our past. Also, just being in this prison
is another example, and some would say that being here is punishment, but of a truth, it is not. Often in this walk of life we stray from one mishap or calamity to another, and something is programmed in our life that effects our walk with Christ, and as many as God loves, He chastises. And His blessing upon us is often thru that chastisement, therefore His stripes given to me, or let me say, imprisonment upon me, is exactly what it took to open my eyes to the thorough nature of Gods’ Love. For without this stripe I would not have understood the complete nature of man, or the complete nature of Christ living in me, which is, by-far richer than that of the former mentioned. Therefore this stripe of my arrest, and this dungeon has created a bloom of Love that will produce seed after its own kind, and has lifted me to a level never thought to be achieved.”

  The soft spoken man listening to my answer, simply said: ”Wow.”

  Jereriah was hungry for the Word, and it was evident by his actions; and purpose was given to him by the power received each time understanding was apprehended. Looking at him, as he studied every spoken syllable, as he watched me, was like flashing back to the memories of me. More important than his collection of what was being said, and the comprehension of it, was the eagerness, and willingness, to absorb every nugget that could be had. For it was the Christ that Jereriah was hearing, and occasionally it came from my voice.

  I believe thru the course of the year, Jereriah listened to every event, from me, that took place while, myself, and the other twelve disciples, walked daily with Jesus, but now, thru all the stories, slowly began to understand that walking with Jesus in the now, is much more effectual than when we, seeing Him face-to-face, ever obtained. At first this was hard to grab hold to, but now, through a personal relationship with Christ, it was becoming more and more vivid to him, and his eyes were beginning to open even more.

  What a thrill it was to watch this young man grow in the Wisdom of the Lord. I believe every recollection in me was reflected upon, and it was as if most of it was received by mouth, for most of the time his was open. It was fun, and a pleasure being with one, such as Jereriah, and to watch this young man being transformed by Christ into a disciplined believer.