Memory 2.
Sometimes It feels like time has stopped, and only I keep moving through it's solid stillness. It doesn't frighten me enymore. It only makes me wonder, how can it be possible. Sometimes I also wonder, why am I here, if I only did what He and his Father wanted me to? From the very beginning, he pointed out the aim, he was going to reach. He said, that he was going to die , he even announced the time and the place. As well, as he forsaw that he was going to be betrayed…he Gave me a strange look, back then, this I remember clearly.
It was few months after I joined Jesus and his people. It was very spontanous. I simply went with him that first day, without even going home to prevent my family. I didn't want to, because I knew that my will to leave was not yet strong enough, and they could have stopped me. I simply didn't give them a slightest chance.They must have thought that I died, or something…I just went after Him…at first we didn't talk, but then I gathered back my courage and self-confidence and asked him for his name.
Jesus, - he said with a smile. – My name is Jesus… - He didn't behave anything like the priests or prophets that I saw before, or heard of. He was very friendly and simple, open-hearted and gentle. Not snobbish, or aloof, or carrying the look of his own importance. He was just a man,almost like anybody else…almost, but not quite.
I was wondering, why did he follow me that day. Why did he choose me, among all others? When I met his friends, or followers,( I didn't know how to call them best) I was quite sad to see , they were all plain people, peasants or fishermen, who were mostly illiterate. I felt that I was absolutely unfitting with them, but yet, I couldn't resist the urge to go with them. I sensed a kind of tension, and uneasy looks that pierced me, but each time I saw Jesus look upon me, I felt more than sure about my decision. I had to change my life…and that was the chance. I wasn't sure if that was merely a whim, an outburst, a spontaneus act of a person who's tired of living a life that proved he's just one among the mediocrity? When I studied their faces, I asked myself, how did they come to be with him? Was it just the same…why did we all, actually leave everything behind, only to go after this strange, childlike man, with an otherwordly look? When I tried to regain my materialistic sight, I saw that he was a fragile soul, a man who at times lacked self-confidence, gentle and kind, even though very strange, and even unsetting at times…cheerful and soft one moment, then silent and filled with melancholy, or even angry, to the point of desperation, being on the verge of tears…It was strange, but I felt that he was somehow seeking for support and even protection. Not openly, but inwardly, calling out for a friend, who would give him a firm shoulder to lean , should he ever need it. For everyone else, he was a teacher, a leader, a guide…but he longed for someone, who would probably just comfort him. And I could clearly see it. It was so strange for me thta no one else ever seemed to notice.
Everything was combined in him: weakness and strength, sorrow and joy, determination and doubt, and that was probably something that fascinated us.
I didn't know who Jesus was, on that time, but my heart knew, He was going to bring some changes into my fate, some really serious changes…For me, he was my personal messiah, and I didn't even try to explain to myself the motives of my weird behaviour, which actually terryfied and and amazed my own self.
After I met everybody, I came to a conclusion that I would never fit in this group. There was a man among them, who's job before joining Jesus was, as I found out, gathering taxes…and he, somehow managed to tell others, that the ones like me, and my father , were thiefs, who stole from poor people, who kept their gold within huge vaults, and who's greed was stronger then any other feeling in their brest. Well, probably it was close to truth, but not with me. I didn't argue, I knew it would be worthless, but I remembered…and what's worse…they remembered.
It really amazed me that he didn't even ask me , why I went with him, who am I, what i did for life…it seeme like he knew, or more likely, didn't find that important. I think I understood what he meant, since I felt that I am being reborn, and everything I was before I met him didn't make much sense.
It took me some time to get used to the unspoken conditions of the group, to know the people, to understand what was going on within that small society…it took me even more time, to learn to understand HIM. Or, better said…to accept him.
I was really rather preocupied, about this messiah talk….and I honestly thought that he was a prophet, but not what his followers said he ought to be…a Son of God! It sounded absurd to me…absolutely absurd!
My lack of faith, and a habit to think logically, and even voice my opinion didn't help me much to gain respect and love among others. Simon or Matheus, despised me quite openly, while young John, who was quiet and very much into himself, simply didn't notice me… I wasn't one of them, and mostly everyone behaved as if I simply didn't exist at all. It felt a bit lonly…it would have, if not for him. We've used to talk a lot, Jesus and I…He spoke to others as well, teaching them, speaking of life, and faith, and sharing his wisdom with the ones who simply couldn't appreciate But our conversations were different..much more different. Our talking was more in a form of a dialogue, not just a speech of his..we would discuss things, sometimes he asked me for advices, sometimes we argued, sometimes we just laughed…And I found out that I was growing to feel strangely protective of him. The more I got to know him, the more I saw how vulnerable and fragile he was, so easy to hurt…And slowly, I took my place at his side, as his confident, and his advisor, but mostly his protector. He was the emotional and spiritual leader, but who needed to be guided himself. I gave him a shoulder, and to my surprise, he willingly leaned on it, trusting me to be his right-hand man, which caused a wave of miscontent among the apostles.
One evening, on our way to Galilie, Jesus's homeland, which he wanted to visit, we had a very strange talk….
In my despair, I recall it often. And now, as I walk through time which has stopped, feeling like I'm traooed in a solid piece of ice, I still recall his eyes, which reflected a whole million of stars that shone in the skies that night…Oh, Jesus, why me?
Sometimes It feels like time has stopped, and only I keep moving through it's solid stillness. It doesn't frighten me enymore. It only makes me wonder, how can it be possible. Sometimes I also wonder, why am I here, if I only did what He and his Father wanted me to? From the very beginning, he pointed out the aim, he was going to reach. He said, that he was going to die , he even announced the time and the place. As well, as he forsaw that he was going to be betrayed…he Gave me a strange look, back then, this I remember clearly.
It was few months after I joined Jesus and his people. It was very spontanous. I simply went with him that first day, without even going home to prevent my family. I didn't want to, because I knew that my will to leave was not yet strong enough, and they could have stopped me. I simply didn't give them a slightest chance.They must have thought that I died, or something…I just went after Him…at first we didn't talk, but then I gathered back my courage and self-confidence and asked him for his name.
Jesus, - he said with a smile. – My name is Jesus… - He didn't behave anything like the priests or prophets that I saw before, or heard of. He was very friendly and simple, open-hearted and gentle. Not snobbish, or aloof, or carrying the look of his own importance. He was just a man,almost like anybody else…almost, but not quite.
I was wondering, why did he follow me that day. Why did he choose me, among all others? When I met his friends, or followers,( I didn't know how to call them best) I was quite sad to see , they were all plain people, peasants or fishermen, who were mostly illiterate. I felt that I was absolutely unfitting with them, but yet, I couldn't resist the urge to go with them. I sensed a kind of tension, and uneasy looks that pierced me, but each time I saw Jesus look upon me, I felt more than sure about my decision. I had to change my life…and that was the chance. I wasn't sure if that was merely a whim, an outburst, a spontaneus act of a person who's tired of living a life that proved he's just one among the mediocrity? When I studied their faces, I asked myself, how did they come to be with him? Was it just the same…why did we all, actually leave everything behind, only to go after this strange, childlike man, with an otherwordly look? When I tried to regain my materialistic sight, I saw that he was a fragile soul, a man who at times lacked self-confidence, gentle and kind, even though very strange, and even unsetting at times…cheerful and soft one moment, then silent and filled with melancholy, or even angry, to the point of desperation, being on the verge of tears…It was strange, but I felt that he was somehow seeking for support and even protection. Not openly, but inwardly, calling out for a friend, who would give him a firm shoulder to lean , should he ever need it. For everyone else, he was a teacher, a leader, a guide…but he longed for someone, who would probably just comfort him. And I could clearly see it. It was so strange for me thta no one else ever seemed to notice.
Everything was combined in him: weakness and strength, sorrow and joy, determination and doubt, and that was probably something that fascinated us.
I didn't know who Jesus was, on that time, but my heart knew, He was going to bring some changes into my fate, some really serious changes…For me, he was my personal messiah, and I didn't even try to explain to myself the motives of my weird behaviour, which actually terryfied and and amazed my own self.
After I met everybody, I came to a conclusion that I would never fit in this group. There was a man among them, who's job before joining Jesus was, as I found out, gathering taxes…and he, somehow managed to tell others, that the ones like me, and my father , were thiefs, who stole from poor people, who kept their gold within huge vaults, and who's greed was stronger then any other feeling in their brest. Well, probably it was close to truth, but not with me. I didn't argue, I knew it would be worthless, but I remembered…and what's worse…they remembered.
It really amazed me that he didn't even ask me , why I went with him, who am I, what i did for life…it seeme like he knew, or more likely, didn't find that important. I think I understood what he meant, since I felt that I am being reborn, and everything I was before I met him didn't make much sense.
It took me some time to get used to the unspoken conditions of the group, to know the people, to understand what was going on within that small society…it took me even more time, to learn to understand HIM. Or, better said…to accept him.
I was really rather preocupied, about this messiah talk….and I honestly thought that he was a prophet, but not what his followers said he ought to be…a Son of God! It sounded absurd to me…absolutely absurd!
My lack of faith, and a habit to think logically, and even voice my opinion didn't help me much to gain respect and love among others. Simon or Matheus, despised me quite openly, while young John, who was quiet and very much into himself, simply didn't notice me… I wasn't one of them, and mostly everyone behaved as if I simply didn't exist at all. It felt a bit lonly…it would have, if not for him. We've used to talk a lot, Jesus and I…He spoke to others as well, teaching them, speaking of life, and faith, and sharing his wisdom with the ones who simply couldn't appreciate But our conversations were different..much more different. Our talking was more in a form of a dialogue, not just a speech of his..we would discuss things, sometimes he asked me for advices, sometimes we argued, sometimes we just laughed…And I found out that I was growing to feel strangely protective of him. The more I got to know him, the more I saw how vulnerable and fragile he was, so easy to hurt…And slowly, I took my place at his side, as his confident, and his advisor, but mostly his protector. He was the emotional and spiritual leader, but who needed to be guided himself. I gave him a shoulder, and to my surprise, he willingly leaned on it, trusting me to be his right-hand man, which caused a wave of miscontent among the apostles.
One evening, on our way to Galilie, Jesus's homeland, which he wanted to visit, we had a very strange talk….
In my despair, I recall it often. And now, as I walk through time which has stopped, feeling like I'm traooed in a solid piece of ice, I still recall his eyes, which reflected a whole million of stars that shone in the skies that night…Oh, Jesus, why me?