Chapter 11

“Thoughts of my parents and my old life would enter my mind as the company would travel on. Taphitha and I would recount the times we were all together. I had devloped a special love for Taphitha as she traveled with me among the company of believers. She too, knew nothing about God and his ways, prior to joining up with Jesus, but as time went on, she radiated a glow of love for the master. One sabbath Jesus was teaching in the meeting place. There were many people there to hear Him. Taphitha and I were there. And there was this woman. It was heart breaking to see her. She was suffering from some affiliction that caused the frame of her body to be twisted and bent over in such a painful way.” Mary stopped bluntly, realizing that the story she was about to tell this woman was in fact her story but with a much happier ending. She didn’t know if she should continue and how this woman would feel about the outcome. As Mary struggled to know what to do or say, the woman broke her concentration. “It’s ok, dear. Continue on.”
Mary continued but found that she was hesitating in her recounting. The old woman took Mary’s dirty hands into hers and motioned her head as if to say, “please continue”.
“The bent was so aggressive that she couldn’t look up. She was stooped over, not being able to see the face of Jesus. Her eyes were only able to see His feet but she could hear clearly the sound of His voice. It was amazing. She made her way to Him by following His voice. There was no other way for her to have known Jesus because of the condition of her body. But the way she looked at His feet and reacted to His voice, it was as if she were looking into His eyes. I have looked into the eyes of Jesus many times and even though many people would doubt the beauty I see in His face, it was astonishing to find the beauty this woman saw in the feet of Jesus. He laid his strong hands on her back and said; “Woman, you’re free!” With those simple words, she stood up straight. Her body perfectly alined. She looked up and saw His face for the first time and I have never before heard praises like the ones she offered up to God. Her hands were raised high above the crowds that pressed in and her voice was clear and full of joy. And the look on Jesus’ face was one of pure jublience. He lifted his own hands and joined her in her praises to God. That was the moment that I knew Jesus was not doing any of the things He had done for His own glory. He accepted no praise for Himself. It was all for God. It was a precious but short lived moment, when the meeting-place president became furious because Jesus had healed someone on the Sabbath. But Jesus shot back; “You frauds! Each Sabbath everyone of you regularly unties your cow or donkey from its stall, leads it out for water, and thinks nothing of it. So why isn’t it all right for me to untie this daughter of Abraham and lead her from the stall where Satan has had her tied these eighteen years?” The crowd cheered as they heard Jesus say these words. It’s that idea of freedom, again. Jesus had freed this woman from her twisted body and that was more important than following a law. She was more important than the law. He called her a “daughter of Abraham”. I looked over at Taphitha with an expression of victory on my face. Her face was a mirror of my own. What shocked me most was the audiacity of the meeting place president to not acknowledge the miracle that lay before his eyes. A woman was set free from a bondage and people are arguing about following rules! What has become of us that we would keep someone in chains for the sake of rules? All those there wittnessed a miracle and someone turned it into a debate. At that moment, I had to remember all the words that Jesus had taught us about loving our enemies and praying for their eyes to be opened. It was a hard walk back to the camp as I struggled with the anger that I was feeling. I am all about freedom. I always have been, even in my old life. Why couldn’t everyone else see what I so clearly saw. And heard what I so clearly heard. She was made free. But others wanted her kept bound.”
Mary had gotten herself worked up over the story that she didn’t notice the tears running down the cheek of the old woman. When Mary did pause from her memory and seeing the tears, she closed her eyes and apologized for telling the old woman the story. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that. But why have you not come out to see Jesus. I know he could have healed you of your own affliction,” casting her eyes on the womans bent back. “I am not crying because I still carry my own affliction. I am crying over the love of my Savior. Dear Mary, my soul is whole, what does it matter what my body looks like. I too am free. Just like you, just like the woman in your story. Don’t feel pity for me, I am content in my circumstances. Now, go on.” The woman said with a bit of force and humor.
“As we walked back to the camp I was so caught up in the unfairness I saw at the meeting place, It took me quite some time to see that Taphitha was struggling with something of her own. I was assuming that she was just as angry with what had happened as I was. Until she asked a question. “Am I a daughter of Abraham, even though I was not born jewish?” I was stunned by her question and had to think a minute about where it came from. Jesus said something about being a daughter of Abraham to the crippled woman. I didn’t catch that. I was more concerned about the whole freedom issue. ‘Yes! I told her. Because, like the woman we just saw, Jesus healed us both. Me, with obvious afflictions, and you with the sweet passage of time spent listening to the Master’. It didn’t occur to me that when Jesus spoke, he spoke to all people. Taphitha heard what touched her heart the most as I did. I have wanted freedom all my life and in every situation, I find freedom a constant. As Taphitha and I walked the rest of the way home, she told me that she had always wanted to belong. She was an orphan before coming to our home to serve me. Being a daughter was what her heart desired most. And coming to know Jesus and the Heavenly Father He talks so much about filled a need in Her. But, she confided in me, she was not born Jewish, but Syrian. And how could she be a daughter of God, if she was not a daughter of Abraham. I assured her the best I could, but before I could seek counsel of other women in the group who were not Jewish, Jesus began to tell us all a story about God’s kingdom. He used a pine nut and a woman working yeast in a dough. Then a bystander asked if only a few would be saved. Jesus answered his question by stating that that wasn’t the point. He said, “Put your mind on your life with God. The way to life – to God!- is vigorous and requires your total attention. A lot of you are going to assume that you’ll sit down to God’s salvation banquet just because you’ve been hanging around the neighborhood all your lives. Well, one day you’re going to be banging on the door, wanting to get in, but you’ll find the door locked and the Master saying, ‘Sorry, you’re not on my guest list.’ “You’ll protest, ‘ But we’ve known you all our lives!’ only to be interrupted with his abrupt, ‘Your kind of knowing can hardly be called knowing. You don’t know the first thing about me.’ I knew Jesus was talking about the religious leaders and the Jews at this point, but when He continued, He spoke directly to Taphitha as evidence of the look of joy on her face.
“That’s when you’ll find yourselves out in the cold, strangers to grace. You’ll watch Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and all the prophets march into God’s kingdom. You’ll watch outsiders stream in from east, west, north and south and sit down at the table of God’s kingdom. And all the time you’ll be outside looking in – and wondering what happened. This is the Great Reversal: the last in line put at the head of the line, and the so-called first ending up last.”
“Wow, perfect timing! I looked at Taphitha with a silly grin and said, ‘I think He just answered your questions.’ As Taphitha found a home she never had, my thoughts of my father and mother flooded my mind. In all the time I had spent with them, I longed for the supposed freedom that I saw in my fathers lifestyle, while I secretly loathed my mothers submission to scripture. How truly blind I was. My mother was the one that was free while my father carried secret chains that bound him to it’s own brand of submission. While I grieved my fathers life, I was thankful for the freedom I found through Jesus, the Master and for a new kind of home to call my own.”