No-man's Land
With a groggy start, I took a deep breath and looked around. What was I doing in this field anyways and what strange dreams I've been having? I said to myself as I stretched my feet out in front of me. I looked down, only to notice that I was still wearing Jewish robes and finally resigned myself to the fact that... at least this field I was sitting in; wasn't a dream. I was still in the first century (whatever that really means) and the events that came filtering back from the night before, probably did actually happen. Yeah, but woah, what strange dreams? I wiped my face as a flood of nervous feelings began to surface.
I thought about the first dream with the butterflies and the bridge and wondered what it meant? Most of it was pretty clear; I could see what was going on, although the end of it didn't make much sense. Everything else had happened and the more I pondered these occurrences, along with the words to the song that reflected such events; the pieces fit together. I understood the very end. I was finally free, like a butterfly; but how that freedom was going to come out of me attempting to kill myself, I could not fathom? How can my own insanity ever set me free? I wondered.
I don't know? I finally decided as I put that one aside and moved on to the next dream. Now, I've had a lot of nightmares about Desert Storm, but that one was just plain... weird! I chuckled to myself as I thought about the symbolism. Never ending love is what they (or rather we) had found. Yes, absolutely! That is indeed what I found and funny how the war brought me to that? I considered as I pondered the role of the Iraqis in the dream. I guess redemption is a funny thing in that respect. The grace of God knows no boundaries and just because you might be on opposite sides of a human conflict; you never know who you're going to end up next to in eternity!
Speaking of eternity! Another time and another place? Yeah, uh huh! I'm never going to be able to hear that song again and not have this dream stuck in my head. I grumbled. It's really not fair! I kind of liked that song and now it's ruined. It ain't ever going to be the same again. I continued complaining a moment or two; trying to real my thoughts in. Find a good Bible verse! I told myself, as I figured that would take care of my problem. The only phrase that came to mind though was: "anxiously awaiting the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ" and that wasn't exactly where I wanted to go. Don't think that's quite what that means! I finally started to laugh, since in a strange sort of warped way; it was funny.
Well, Father forgive me; was all I could say as I let out a sigh and just decided to let it go. I felt a twinge of sadness; since for some reason I didn't understand, I got a lot of comfort out of my stupid dreams. I don't know, maybe I really am warped. I tried not to cry as I struggled to admit that I really didn't want to let it go. It was scary and comforting, mind-boggling and yet made a lot of sense; all at the same time?
I began to realize that whatever was going on - dream or not; was working on some subconscious part of my mind. All my unresolved issues that I attempted to bury for so long were rising up to revolt, while all my theological knowledge and academic Bible learnings were sinking down to a depths that became ever and ever increasingly hard to reach. It was still down there somewhere and much of the happenings I had witnessed around me only confirmed its validity; yet at the same time, I couldn't figure out why all my emotions had suddenly gone absolutely haywire? I guess maybe I was scared at the prospect of confronting myself? There are a lot of things about me I didn't want to look at and what made me think God would find my dirty little secrets anymore redeemable than I did? I wondered as I flopped over onto the rippling wheat stalks, which were waving toward heaven. The tears flooded out once more, as I wished I could just dissolve into the soil beneath me.
What felt like hours had passed, although it also seemed like time was standing still. The sun hadn't moved very far, as I finally pushed myself up with an ironic disappointment that there was no way I could melt into the ground. I forced myself to my feet for a good look around, since I didn't know where I was, or how I was going to get back to the house?
I started to walk as my mind visited the last dream I just awoken from. I was very troubled by it's ending and the final scene. It all seemed stuck in my memory; a very human portrayal of the Divine that bordered on erotic, or at least erotic for me. I paused a minute to rub the shame out of my blushing face. I didn't want to go through this again. I determined as I could feel the disdain growing in my soul. I wanted to scream as I fought with the urge to slap my own face. I knew that ultimately did me no good, although I had no trouble admitting that it made me feel better; but if only temporarily. I tried not to think about it as I told myself to keep walking, but was finally so full of hatred, that I gave up and plopped down in the field, to indulge myself in several minutes of self abusive brutality.
I finally sat up, exhausted from my own deluge as I looked around to make sure no one saw me. I was well hidden in the grass and there was not a soul in my immediate sight, so I figured I'd successfully concealed my crime. What do I do now? I wondered as I struggled to stand up. It seemed pointless to return to the house now. I was too mortified by the thoughts of facing anyone; not that I felt they'd ever care to see me again anyways. Maybe I'll get lucky and some accident will end my pathetic life once and for all. I wailed
My sobbing eventually subsided and the vicious cycle of negative thoughts begin their descent. I probably would not be fortunate enough to just get run over by a chariot or have some stray arrow strike me dead; no, I'd probably be raped and tortured before some sadist finally snuffed me out for good. I started to laugh with morbid cynicism, as I struggled to climb up the embarkment to the road. I started to walk, wondering how long it would take me to gather the courage to return to the house; after all, I realized there really wasn't much else I could do.
I let out a sigh as the events of the previous day floated through my mind. All the time I'd spent following Jesus through the streets of several strange (or at least strange to me) towns; eating at the 'diner' and riding the camel. All this and He didn't tell me to get lost, or anything like that. I started to ponder. Maybe He has more interest in me than just marginal tolerance? Either way, I guess if He really didn't like me - I'd know that by now. I let out a chuckle, as I thought of all the Bible passages I'd read where the Pharisees or some such like religious leaders got a new 'hole' ripped for them. So - well, maybe there is some hope for me; or at least will be in the end?
I peered up at the clouds reflecting not only about the past, but the future. I started to feel badly as I thought about how Judas would actually come to regret what he did and end up hanging himself for the guilt he felt in stealing an innocent man's life. My brother on the other hand, was in more hopeless peril, since he really didn't seem to have any remorse for what he'd done. Oh yeah, he claimed he was sorry; but really only sorry he got caught. I recollected as vague memories of someone telling one of my doctors that my brother really thought this was normal behavior.
How is that? The voices screamed in my head.
"it's impossible to avoid that offenses will come, but woe to him who causes them. It would be better for him if a millstone were hanged around his neck and he was thrown into the sea, than if he causes one of these little ones to stumble." The verse kept skipping through my mind. Stumble yeah, I've stumbled alright. I admitted to myself as I followed the trail I'd left in the field. I've stumbled all my life. I let out a sigh as I came up to another road. God I really need Your help. I began to cry again as I looked up and down, trying to decide which way to go. All this weight that's bore down on my soul these so many years. I know I need Your forgiveness too. Beyond the theological parroting of why and how though; I have to confess that I don't really understand any of this.
I stood at the edge of the road as my mind continued to wander. Yes, I've had a lot of goofy dreams (along with a few more to add to now) that I was terribly ashamed of, which had a certain person in them, (who I didn't understand very well). Yet I knew I was attracted to; although not particularly out of appearance (for He wasn't of the prime specimens of male humanity to behold) but maybe simply because of the promise He held. Even though I felt badly about these dreams and all; I knew logically speaking, they weren't really a big deal. It was just my imagination. Nothing really happened and it's not like I have a whole lot of control over what I dream about anyways; so?
I guess that's what was truly bothering me. Why was this happening in the first place? My emotions seemed so out of control (to me) and maybe what I really needed forgiveness for was not how I actually was, but only how I perceived myself to be? I'm not infallible and these things are going to happen to me, because I'm mortal. A mere reflection of the same Adam, standing there with the same fruit in my hand wishing to be something I can't. So, I don't know? Maybe that's it? I need the real God to forgive me for the god that I'm not.
I'd stopped and had been standing at the edge of the road, contemplating my journey back through the fields, when I heard the clip clop of a horse behind me. I turned to see someone in an ox cart traveling up the road. I didn't think much about it and just continued walking when it rolled passed me and pulled over to stop. I suddenly looked up realizing I recognized this group of people. It was John and Mary, Philip and Andrew. Wow, had they actually come looking for me? I started to sniffle as I wondered if they'd really been sent by Someone else?
"Hi guys." A small voice squeaked out as I hurried on over to them. I wasn't paying too much attention as John pulled me up into the cart when a fifth figure sat up and moved over to make room for me. I had sat down and was busy wrapping myself in my scarf before I realized who the fifth person was. Sitting across from me with eyes closed and head leaning up against the back gate was Jesus.
He opened His eyes, briefly sat up and reached across the cart. When His fingers came in contact with my stinging face; I let out a sniffling chuckle, as 'Vulcan mind meld' flashed through my thoughts. Yes Lord there is a lot of crap between my ears that needs cleaning out. I started to laugh. And if You could make me stop doing that; that would be good too. Jesus looked at me a minute or so before He cracked a smile and then resumed His position against the tail gate.
"And by the way." I mumbled as I reached out and shook His foot. "Yaw-daw."
"Yo.. well'-koom." Jesus labored a bit as He flashed me a puzzled look. I nodded with a little smile.
John indicated that we were again headed back into the city as he vigorously pointed down the road and repeated "Yah'ru-saalem. Yah'ru-saalem" until he seemed convinced that I understood what he was saying. "Thank you. Thank you." I smiled as I nodded that I indeed 'got it'. Good. John gestured as he turned his attention back to Andrew. Was I going home to my century now? I started to wonder as I wiggled around and tried to get comfortable.
Jesus pulled His feet out of my way as the cart bounced down the road. His eyes had drifted closed again and I sat watching Him a minute or two longer. His breathing slowed until it almost stopped altogether and then He took a deep breath and started all over again. What does God dream about? I wondered as we went over a bump and He was nudged back into a state of semi-consciousness. He'd open His eyes and closed them again, seeming too tired to notice the rut we'd just passed.
My eyes began to wander around the scenery as I listened to Andrew and Philip laugh. I had no idea what they were talking about, but something in the rhythm of the bustling streets was amusing them. I looked at Mary, who started to snicker as she subtly gestured toward a group of scribes and Pharisees who were obviously unhappy about something.
They were blustering at a ferrel dog as they chased it down the street, several of them standing around one fellow who was shaking his head as he was looking down inspecting his tunic. It took me a couple of minutes to realize, this dog had peed on him. I started to snicker myself, wondering if one of these fellows was the one I'd decked a couple of days earlier?
We were all still glancing around at each other in subdued chuckles when for no reason it seemed, Jesus was suddenly jolted out of His tranquil world. Mary John and I turned to Him as He sat up, looked around, mumbled something, restlessly squirming about before He pulled His Tallit up over His head and face, changed positions and laid down on the floor of the cart, with His head now next to me, although facing the tail gate.
John and Andrew flashed each other puzzled looks of concern as Mary kindly patted Jesus's leg while she pulled His tunic down over HIs feet. Jesus let out a sigh as He seemed to grow quiet; although I think I was the only one who could hear His muffled sniffles and whimpers. I simply placed my right hand on His head praying that what ever solace we could offer Him, He'd actually find comfort in.
We can't help You. I sighed as I plucked through the folds of prayer shawl to uncover His face. He didn't move, but lay there with eyes open staring at the tail gate.
I know. He seemed to sigh in reply.
What day is it actually? My mind wandered as I twirled the little tassels around my fingers. It has to be Thursday I pondered as peered down at Jesus; the world's Passover lamb laying in this cart. You gotta do it. My thoughts spoke to Him as He continued to stare at the gate.
Yeah, I know. He seemed to sigh again in reply as He pulled the shawl back over His face and cried some more.
Another 20 minutes or so had passed when we were pulling off the side of the road. I watched with a certain sense of awe as John reached over Mary, slapped Jesus on the backside and in no shorter words said: wake up - we're here.
What an odd lack of respect this seemed to me to be, as Jesus only mumbled some sort of acknowledgement before He sat up and backhanded John in return. John started to laugh as Mary began to object, being in the middle of 'no man's land' while the two of them began to swat back and forth in a rather childish rendition of 'you're it'. They both started laughing when; finally having enough, Mary drew the final straw and started throwing it at them. (Straw that is.)
Philip slowly turned around with a smirk on his face that resembled a father in the car with his naughty children in the back seat; as now that Andrew was in on the act, a straw flying frenzy was nearly in full swing. At this point Mary was scolding Jesus like she was His mom.
Jesus only flopped down backwards in the cart nearly laughing hysterically, as He sort of hid behind me while John was now hurling fist fulls of straw in our direction; most of which was landing on Mary. Lack of sleep and the stress of pending judgement have turned Your Son into a delinquent. I sort of smirked as I gave Jesus the 'side eye' peer.
Jesus had scooted up nearly behind me, hiding His face between the side of the cart and my shoulder, with one arm sort of around me, flipping straw at Andrew, when He started to make a strange noise. He sat up and rather quickly climbed out of the cart, nearly landing in the street, before He pulled himself up and began walking around in a circle at the side of the road. He seemed to be hyperventilating; although it was a little unclear as to why.
Andrew jumped out to assist Him, as He stood at the side of the road, leaning over with hands on His knees trying to catch His breath. It looked like the onset of another panic attack to me; although Jesus seemed pretty intent on reassuring Andrew that He really was OK. He staggered over to the side of the cart, leaning against the wheel with His hands now clenching the slat between Mary and John. Anther 10 minutes or so had passed when Jesus seemed to have calmed down enough to move on to the next intended task.
He motioned to me that I should get out of the cart and follow Him, while He instructed the rest on where He would later meet them. I wondered where He'd be taking me this time? I glanced at Him as I slowly climbed out. I hopped down off the little step behind the tail gate; and the cart began to roll away. I waved to Mary and everyone else as Jesus just sort of stood behind me, holding my one arm and facing the opposite direction. I turned and looked at Him as He was counting streets again.
He grabbed my arm and began to walk; sort of dragging me behind Him, He staggered like He was a bit inebriated. I knew that wasn't the case, since He didn't smell like He was drunk. I'd certainly been around my mother, (as well as exhausted soldiers) enough times to know the difference. Jesus was tired. I knew that and thus, at least part of the reason for His erratic behavior. Interesting, I thought to myself. Lack of sleep does the same thing to God incarnate that it does to me.
We ambled our way up a road when Jesus finally managed to get enough control over Himself to at least walk in a strait line. But maybe Ya could use a couple of glasses of wine? I thought to myself. If being tired makes Ya loopy; enough wine would probably put Ya to sleep. Although I wasn't sure how appropriate it would be in the scheme of God's eternal salvation plan to get the Passover lamb drunk? 'What's that in the bread, it's gone to my head...' The words to a song from Jesus Christ Superstar tripped through my mind. Not that I ever cared too much for that musical. I always thought it was a bit tasteless. Monty Python's The Life of Brian though; now that was hilarious!
Blessed are the cheese makers!