Malchus' ear, acts of God, more from the Garden

Some of the latest things I've pondered...

Among the arresters of Jesus was Malchus, a servant of the high priest. When the arresters went to seize Jesus, Peter drew a sword and cut off Malchus' right ear. (John 18)

I wonder what went through Malchus' mind in the following moment, when Jesus touched his ear and healed it. (Luke 22)

What did Jesus' eyes say to Malchus when He healed him?

What must have gone through Malchus' mind. What must have transpired nonverbally as his eyes met Jesus.

What about Malchus' heart? Was it so calloused he remained allied to the brood of vipers and continued with the throng?

Or did Jesus' touch more than heal his ear? Did the Word divide his soul and spirit in that moment?

The canned-text, popular, intellectual Christian answer would be "oh yes, this must definitely have touched him to conversion".

I'm not so sure. Jesus says about some among us that though the dead be raised before our eyes we will still not believe.

Besides, being raised from the dead is a much bigger miracle than healing a severed ear, isn't it?

I wonder what Malchus saw. I wonder what he felt. I wonder what he thought.

I wonder what he did.

••••••••


hurricanes, tornados, technology and America

In speaking with a friend recently, he said the following:

"Consider where we find ourselves in the history of humanity. We are at the height of knowledge. Knowledge has become the doorway to 'truth'. Our beloved 'scientists' and 'experts' are uncovering more and more of the 'mysteries' of our life as humans. We have an addiction to explanation, both in secular and in sacred areas of life.

HOW has taken the place of WHY.

And so we blindly walk toward the perfect state of absurdity--for what could be more absurd than to have complete knowledge of 'how', but no grasp of 'why'? Think on that.

We allow for fewer and fewer mysteries. Which also means, less wonder and imagination is required to get by.

In a word, less faith. The Spirit and our spirit are lost in the fray. Working, but forgotten.

The institutional church is no less guilty of feeding this addiction to explanation. Books, lessons, sermons, sunday school, radio preachers, devotional books, language books. How-to's, tips, ideas, conversation starters, small group material, blah, blah, blah.

Ok, I'm perilously close to committing the crime I am accusing both science and the institutional church of doing. But this is where I stop, and suggest: the less we know, the more we believe.

Here's another way to say it: the less we look at, the more we see.

I choose not to know. I choose not to choose. I choose the un-known. I run from understanding. I embrace mystery."

In thinking about his comments the other day, my mind drifted over to the recent tornados and last year's hurricanes in the U.S.

A mesh of these acts of God and his comments blended together. There has been a lot of postulating about God's judgment and satin's attacks about these things last year and this year, and I like most folks have pondered them.

Yet a new thought came to me in light of my friend's comment. Regardless of it being judgment or attack, I thought of another angle.

Maybe one of many messages might be: "I AM above your technology. You can develop and engineer til the cows come home. Above all the human wisdom, knowledge, progress, comforts, conveniences and inventions you have, I AM. I desire you. I've tried to love you into this. I've given soft reminders, patient reminders. I try to draw you unto Me, but you're too busy and knowledgeable. I don't prefer these eye-openers, but how much choice are you leaving Me? Your ears only open and the scales from your eyes only fall when it's really strong."

There is no shortage of intellectual head knowledge of Jesus in this country. Yet how much do we crowd Him out with our own attainment and wisdom?

Why ask Jesus to heal a headache when we have aspirin? Why ask for healing of serious ailments when we have surgery?

God welcomes fools and the simple who believe (the Greek word for "believe" translates "trust in, cling to and rely on").

Are we trusting in, clinging to and relying on Jesus?

This is not asking what we philosophically think.

We are known by our fruit. What's the fruit in our living? He really does crave to be more than we let Him, yet He's a gentleman and does not enter where He's not invited.

Jesus didn't say "unless you change and become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" just to hear Himself talk.

And yet how often do we yawn at this, and scurry off to revel in our human solutions? (human ideas, human logic, human feeding of our soul, etc.)

I'll be a fool and an idiot, Lord.

•••••••••••

I can't help but thinking about Jesus' arrest in the Garden again (residual from yesterday's post, "before Jesus was silent").

Here's one of the things I've overlooked for years, and it's either awesome or hilarious, or both.

Okay, yesterday's post talked about the awesomeness of Jesus saying "I am He" and His arresters being blown back and falling to the ground. What a pure miracle to ponder--God speaks and man cannot stand. (And that's not really scratching the surface.)

I'm a detail nut by design, so here's where my mind goes:

Can't you just see Jesus and his handful of disciples in the Garden. He's just scathed them for falling asleep on Him several times, when He knew His hour was at hand and had asked them to pray.

I can see the mood being kind of dead-air or even a little tight because of that, not neutral or stoic, when all of a sudden this large group of hateful people shows up.

Jesus knows it is time, and does not cower. He steps out and says "Who are you looking for?"

(okay, pause for a second. Imagine the tenor of this angry crowd. These people have hated Jesus. They've mocked Him, done all they can to trick Him with religious questions, tried to trip Him up, tried to get Him to commit double speak. He'd called them a brood of vipers and whitewashed tombs. He'd called them pretenders, fakes and actors. He shamed them with questions they could not answer. They hated Jesus' guts in their blind religious fervor. Okay, back to the Garden.)

Can't you imagine then, when He asked them who they sought, that there was defiance and pride and perhaps even some growling when they said "Jesus the Nazarene".

They may have even shouted it, with spit or froth coming from their mouths. They hated Jesus, they'd despised Him for some time, and they knew it was now their time to get Him and unleash their pent up hatred.

So after they have said Who they are seeking, Jesus says "I am He" and the power of His words knocks them (literally "lurches" in the original Greek) backward to the ground.

Then Jesus asks a second time, "Who are you looking for?"

I wonder how long the pause between their falling down and Jesus asking again. I don't perceive it was right away. It seems in addition to the shock, wouldn't Jesus give it some time to sink in and for them to realize what had happened. Ten seconds? Thirty? A minute? Five minutes?

The account in John doesn't indicate anything was said between the fall-down and Jesus asking them a second time. So it was silence however long it was. And it seems good the arresters would be given a moment to absorb what happened.

Because of what happened the first time, I can see them wincing and gritting their teeth, with only one eye open and their heads cocked, bracing for what might come next when they say "Jesus the Nazarene" again.

If instead of growling or defiantly shouting His name, as they may have the first time, I wonder if they squeaked "Jesus the Nazarene" like a little field mouse or Caspar Milquetoast wimpette the second time they said His name.

They probably did not want to say it again, for fear of what might happen worse. They had already been knocked to the ground. What might happen next? No telling.

But they muster the courage and they say a second time, probably much less haughtily and thinking 'don't know if we should say this but gonna bite the bullet': "Jesus the Nazarene".

So what happens? Jesus says "I told you that I am He."

I wonder if Jesus said this tongue-in-cheek. You know, with some disbelief-amazement in His tone, as in "what's the problem? I already said 'I am He' and you fell down. What did you do fall down for?" (snicker snicker)

I wonder if Jesus turned and winked at His disciples either before or after saying "I told you I am He".

I wonder if Jesus toyed wtih the mob in this way, demonstrating both His authority and His humility.

The knock-down said "I AM Who I've said all along I AM, and I've just given you one last sign that I AM".

And then, in humility, following that last moment of showing the power of God, Jesus relents. His hands prophetically come down. He pauses (temporarily) showing the Kingdom, and He now becomes the silent Lamb of sacrifice. it is now time for Him to become our sin. Mine. Yours. All of ours.

You know, it may well have not happened like this. Maybe Jesus and the mob said what they said monotonously and on key, in simple fulfillment of Scripture. Or maybe it was as solemn as we grow up being taught, and even how we may read it today.

Maybe Jesus didn't have a twink in His eye toward the disciples when the crowd fell back to the ground.

Maybe He didn't shoot His disciples a glance and flash them a quick eyebrow raise along with a smirky grin on His face to silently say "how'd you like THAT, boys?" before He turned back and gave himself willingly to the crowd.

I don't know.

The religious would gape their mouths at me for suggesting this.

And yet the Jesus I know...it wouldn't surprise me at all. ;-)