Ever since my mother passed away, my father had been lonely. They were in love. Never have I seen anyone love like this, even the newly weds. He had been gloomy for the past ten years. But now there is a smile in his face. He spends time in his room often, praying. Other times he is out to listen to this man. But there is joy in his face, that I know.
Today why did he ask me to go and collect water from the town? No idea. There are slave girls to do that. There is plenty of water here in the house. We have plenty. Then why water from the town? Why me? I am his only son, not a slave to do this. Why? But then I remembered the only commandments with a promise. So I obeyed. Here I am walking down the road, with a pitcher in my hand full of water. People are looking at me. Odd does it definitely look. In our custom, a young man doesn't do this. Why do I have to face this ridicule? Father, you just have to give the order. I have to face these.
And yesterday he asked me to make ready the upper room. I did it with gladness, preparing it with joy for the Passover. Passover has always been lovely. It reminds me of the history of our country. Being saved from slavery in Egypt. They say it is a reflection of the Messiah to come. I don't know these things. But I enjoy. But then, I also came to know he had asked the servants to prepare the Passover for us in the dining room also. Why? Then why did he ask me to set the tables in the upper room? Questions remain unanswered. But I obeyed.
Here I am standing in the crossroads on my way back home with perplexed mind. Why is Father behaving in a ridiculous way. People are looking at us and may be laughing.
But as I turned right to my home, I saw that two men had been following me, from the town. They reached at the door step of my home and they too looked perplexed. Father saw them and came out. Seeing him coming to us hurriedly, I asked him, here is the water you told me to bring. He told, keep it aside and come with me. Holding my hands with affection, as he used to when I was young, he walked to those strangers. Why did I then bring this water at all, father. Why are you walking so fast. Why are there tears in your eyes and yet you are smiling?
They asked, these strangers, where does the teacher have his Passover. Oh so Jesus might have asked him to arrange the upper room. Then why didn't he tell me before hand? I am his son.
But I was surprised when he told them that, he and his family is privileged to host the Master for the Passover. And that he had a vision, where an angel of God asked him to. He was not sure, and because of which he hadn't told his son too. Abba is having serious business with God. He is praying. He is having visions and dreams. But just because he had an illusive experience he asked me to go and get water from the town, in between apologising to me. And that all has been set in the upper room. Abba is a walking man of faith. He trusts Yahweh much. I am impressed. These are not illogical irrational squirms. But definitely, sure acts of faith. But why does he do this for this carpenter turned into a teacher? May be I should find out.
In the evening when the teacher and his set of friends had come, I was actually awestruck. There is a definite aura over Him. The smile. The majesty. Can't describe it. But there is a definite awesomeness in there.
As He came to the upper room, He exclaims with glee. And looks at me straight to my eye and thanks me. I was awestruck. He calls me by my name and acknowledges me and said I have done a good job. How does He know my name? Is father too close to him to tell him my name? May be? I am the host no? So he should know.
But as me and my Abba were hosting them. I could understand there is richness in His words. He tells about one of them betraying Him. If He knows who is it already, then why did He choose him? How does He know?
Take this bread, for it is my body.
Take this wine, for it is my blood.
Then they all sang a hymn and went off.
As we were cleaning the table father narrates the whole picture. That he too was sceptical about this man Jesus, but one day Jesus confronts him on the road and touches him and the moment he touched him, all his grief about Saphira my mother just vanished. Ever since he was trying to find out from the Torah about the Messiah and came to realise, this man whom we hosted just now, is the Son of God who would come to save us all. He had told beforehand that He would be betrayed and killed
But He would rise again.
Early morning as I was just dozing off after the heavy work in the night, one of Abba's friends rushes in to say that the teacher has been arrested. Shocked to the core, we three ran to the square. Jesus was keeping quiet. He doesn't look like the man I saw yesterday. Bruised, beaten. But the glory was still there. They sentences Him to crucifixion, the most gruesome punishment
But why? What wrong has He done?
Carrying the heavy cross. He comes close to me. His breath was warm as it fell on my face
Tears rolling down His cheek, I know it was not because of the pain. He told words that I would never forget. Demas, why do you ask why? Just believe.
I could see him fade away from my vision. Partly because of tears clogging my eyesight, partly because He was dragged away to be killed and I couldn't move. This is the man. This is the Saviour. This is God. Father was right. There is no need to be insecure, for that is why I asked these questions, yet I was doing everything to please others. There is no need to be insecure, for there is a God who loves me.
Yahweh God, forgive me, I have been running away from you. And for the first time I asked myself, why didn't I see this earlier.
Image credit: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Passover_Seder
Fabulous 😍 enjoyed every bit of that story..
ReplyDeleteAll glory to God
DeleteBeautiful story. You are a full baked bard! Loved it.. but why the name Demas? Does it have to do with Demas in 2 Timothy who later deserts Paul?
DeleteJust a figment of my imagination.. nothing to do with the demas who deserted paul
DeleteBeautifully woven writing.. The deep faith of a father and deep obedience of a son.... Seeing fruit in the grace of the Saviour👍
ReplyDelete🙌🏻
DeleteBeautiful...captivating read. Thanks
ReplyDelete🙌🏻
DeleteLate read, but so moved Amith. What a lovely story, Praise God🫠🙌🏻. You must think of putting your story collection into a book soon, my friend. You make us all time travel and think!
ReplyDeleteThanq Ren for your nice words. All glory to God
DeleteEngrossing. I went back in time.
ReplyDeleteI always wanted to be a fly on the wall when the Last Supper happened. And this was another perspective, the hosts view.
Beautiful.
I very often think I would meet these people of my imagination in heaven. It would be exciting. Or may be Jesus would say. Son it was not like that.... There is more in heaven.
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