Chapter 7 - Mordechai - Needing to escape
‘Look, I am not holy like a Pharisee and never will be. I'm terrified about the idea of God with me all the time... terrified that he will find me out, afraid that he will reject me.'
I remember being confused, uncertain, and even frightened, but somehow, despite these turbulent emotions, I also grasped something of the enormity of God's love.
Although many things weren't right in my heart, at my baptism in Siloam the Holy Spirit had shown me that God's love was greater than all my fears and failings. However, in a way, that added to my confusion. Whilst I'd sensed the impossible scale of God's love, I'd struggled to surrender to it, I was afraid of what it might reveal in me... of... of what it did reveal in me.
I’d always seen myself as one of the stable, strong and steady people in our family and the wider community. When my father died, I inherited his olive groves and developed our olive oil production. I managed our dealings with the local Romans and travelled to Rome to set up a lucrative trade deal - a local official was very impressed by the spiced olive oil that Junia had developed, and he opened the way to trade with a senator in Rome.
At thirty-seven I'd seen enough of life that very little ever fazed me... I was proud of my successes. I was strong and self-reliant, but... but the love that I sensed that day... a love that... that was so incredibly strong... it was like a bright light shining into a darkened room, revealing things that I wanted to keep hidden. So whilst I got the sense that I was loved, there were large parts of my heart that I knew weren't ready... weren't right. Large parts of who I was that I believed were unacceptable to God.
The Spirit gave me an insight into the enormity of God's love, well beyond what I could receive. It was a love that was hugely compelling and, at the same time, incredibly terrifying, and I came up from my baptism laughing and weeping. On the one hand, I was inspired by the enormity of God's love, but... but at the same time, I was afraid of that love, and disheartened by the brokenness and fear in me that kept me apart from God.
Aquila and I were among the last people to be baptised at Siloam, but we didn't follow the others up to the Mount of Olives. John asked Stephen and Cleopas to go and see how things were going at Bethesda, and Aquila wanted to go with them.
‘Two reasons,’ he explained, ‘Firstly, even though Prisca is with Junia and Mary, and at one level I'm sure she is safe... it’s her first time in Jerusalem and I'm concerned about her. And, secondly,’ he smiled, ‘to be completely honest, I desperately want to tell her about all that I've learned and experienced.’
I wasn't going to leave Aquila and Cleopas, so we went together to Bethesda and found that our women had gone up the Mount of Olives an hour earlier. Whilst six of the women from the upper room focussed on baptising, the four of us organised the people into queues.
That also meant we were asked loads of questions by people who had missed the excitement in the street below the upper room. Somehow I ended up working with Aquila, and I was extremely glad about that. I didn't want to talk, I was too full of questions and conflicting emotions. But Aquila was eager to share what he’d learned and experienced.
So whilst I brooded and wrestled over what had happened, he excitedly explained the good news about Jesus to anyone with questions... and to many others who didn't. He was bubbling over with an infectious joy that he couldn't help but share with anyone who stood still long enough to listen... And with a queue of people he had a captive audience!
‘Aquila! I love your enthusiasm, brother.’ Cleopas called out, ‘But you need to let these women get into the pool so they can be baptised.’ He laughed.
Aquila's enthusiasm was slightly comical, and was delightful, both to his listeners and to the apostles looking on, but it just added to my regret. His obvious joy highlighted what my brokenness had prevented me from receiving. No matter how good it sounded I knew that I'd never have the courage to surrender to God's love so completely. There were parts of my life that were unacceptable to me, let alone to God, and I silently grieved the reality that I would always be on the outside looking in.
When the last of the women were baptised, we left Bethesda and crossed the Kidron Valley. I forged on up the hill, glancing back occasionally at the long line of people behind me that wove its way up the Mount of Olives. I set a quick pace, partly because I wanted to find Junia and Prisca, but mainly so I could avoid talking with the others. Cleopas, Salome and Aquila were together at the front of the group of women following. Cleopas and Salome shared stories about Jesus, and those around them were completely absorbed in what they were saying.
‘Slow down Motti!’ Cleopas called after me, laughing ‘We're not as fit as you.’
I slowed down but stayed a few paces ahead of the group. As bizarre as it must sound, I didn't want to hear what they were saying. The snippets I heard, and the enthusiasm in the questions being asked just reinforced my feeling of being on the outside.
Sensing something was wrong Cleopas quickened his pace and caught me up, ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he asked as he drew alongside me.
I was taken off guard and didn't know what to say. On the one hand, I desperately wanted to share my fears... to talk about the darkness I knew was within me... but I was afraid. I was afraid that if I revealed my secrets... the things I'd done and not done... then I’d be rejected by the others. As much as I found Aquila's enthusiasm slightly annoying, I knew they had something... they had something I wanted and I didn't want them to exclude me.
‘Err...’ I hesitated before replying, ‘About what? I'm just keen to find my wife.’ I said, which was at least partly true.’
‘You’ve hardly spoken since your baptism.’ Cleopas wasn’t put off by my reply, ‘I may not have seen you for several years, but I recognise that brooding look... something is troubling you.’
Just then my stomach rumbled loudly, ‘Well... I am hungry.’ I said, glad for the distraction, ‘We set off before dawn and it's now close to midday. We've all walked a long way and I've not eaten anything since breakfast.’
Cleopas laughed and put his hand on my shoulder as we walked, ‘We’ll need to get some food sorted soon, it’s been a long morning... But seriously,’ he gripped my shoulder and walked a little closer, ‘If there are things you want to share I'm always ready to listen.’
For a brief moment, I considered it. Part of me wanted to tell him how some things in my life made me unacceptable to God. To confess my failures, to bring into the light those things hidden in darkness... but I couldn't. My fear of rejection was too great.
‘Even if there were,’ I said, a little too quickly, ‘I don't think I'd share them with you. I remember all the scrapes we got into as young men!’ I laughed.
Cleopas smiled, let go of my shoulder and clapped me on the back, ‘The offer's there if you change your mind.’ He looked ahead up the hill, and then back at the group following, ‘We're almost there,’ he called out, ‘Just over the next rise.’
Cleopas’ questioning had opened the lid on parts of my life that I wasn't ready to deal with, and I was grateful that he stopped probing. We walked the last few hundred paces in silence, which meant we heard the crowd before we saw it.
To begin with, the sound was barely audible; a faint buzz that was easily masked by the scuffing of our sandals in the dirt and the noise from the conversation of those following us up the hill. Then for a moment, the sound of many voices joined in laughter rose above the background noise. Then as we left the path and approached a rise in the hill, the murmur of a large crowd became clearly discernible.
Stephen said that over three thousand people had been baptised, and even though I'd been there, I'd only ever seen parts of the crowd in the streets or by the pool. As we crested the rise and the view opened out I stopped, stunned by the beauty of the sight before me... thousands of men and women were seated in groups and covering the top of the hill. But it wasn't just the size of the crowd that made it special. I'd seen larger crowds in the temple, but there was something different with this one. The worship in the temple was impressive in its scale and moving to be a part of, however it was all choreographed. Here there was a wonderful chaotic beauty covering the hilltop. Looking around I could see worship and teaching, laughter and tears, prayer and conversation all going on at once. The whole crowd seemed to be radiating life and joy.
Like so many things had that morning, it moved me deeply and I ached to be part of it... but at the same time, I was terrified of it. The thought of meeting with that all-knowing love of God made me want to run far away.
Cleopas stood next to me scanning the crowd, ‘It's going to be hard to find Junia, Mary and Prisca among this number of people.' he said.
Having a focus helped take my mind off the enormity of the sight before me, and as I joined him in looking from group to group I felt my desire to run fading.
There were gasps from behind us as the group following reached the top of the hill and saw the crowd. Then a woman in a group about 50 paces in front of us stood up as she was talking. It was Mary. Cleopas called her name and the three of us made our way over to her.
Aquila got there first. He rushed to embrace Prisca and tell her all that had happened. Mary and Junia were both smiling broadly as we approached, but I could see they’d been crying.
‘Are you alright?’ I asked as I got close to Junia
‘In my whole life, I have never been better.’ She smiled, ‘This has been the most incredible morning.’
I asked what they’d been learning, and Junia and Prisca enthusiastically outlined the parable of the sower to me and Aquila. Various other women kept chipping in to explain odd parts that had been left out, so it was more than a little confusing. I didn't fully grasp what they said, but I understood enough to know that my heart was full of hard and rocky ground. That seemed to explain why God could not associate with me, and it felt like I was being condemned all over again.
It must have shown on my face, ‘You don't look well,’ Junia said, ‘What's the matter?’
‘Oh... err, nothing... I'm really hungry.’ I lied, ‘It's been at least eight hours since we ate breakfast, and we've done a lot of walking.’
‘Trust you to be thinking of your stomach!’ Junia laughed, but by the way she looked at me I could tell she knew I wasn't sharing everything. ‘What else?’
I tried to cover my lie by explaining about the temple guard at Bethesda, ‘So, given the way the authorities were looking to arrest the followers of Jesus,’ I concluded, ‘Mary didn’t think they'd be happy with a gathering like this.’
Junia has always been able to read people like a book. She still wasn’t convinced and was about to quiz me further, but I was saved when Cleopas and Mary returned from a conversation they'd been having with some of the others for the upper room.
They explained the plan for dispersing, meeting up in the temple and then gathering later tomorrow in small groups in people's homes. However, when they asked, no one in that group felt able to offer their home.
‘We would welcome you in our home,’ a woman called Abigail offered, she nodded to the smiling woman next to her (who turned out to be her daughter), ‘There would be enough space for all of us, but my son-in-law is a Pharisee. He belongs to the school of Hillel, and I know he was against what was done to Jesus, but I don't know how he would react if we all turned up tomorrow.’
‘That's not a problem,’ Mary explained, ‘Martha of Bethany, and a few others, have offered their homes to any groups that don't have a place to meet.’
Mary had just finished explaining how to find Martha's home in Bethany when Peter called together the whole crowd to learn the prayer Jesus had taught his disciples.
It was a simple enough outline of prayer, but I was sure that each line had deeper meanings than I could comprehend. I repeated each line but struggled with the one about sins... ‘Forgive us our sins, for we are forgiving everyone indebted to us.’
I interpreted it as a simple formula; in order for God to forgive me, I needed to be forgiving of others. At least that helped me understand why God could not forgive me; there were people I could never see myself forgiving... and I knew there were things I could not forgive myself. It helped me understand, but also made me feel even more of an outsider. Did all the thousands of other people gathered here forgive so easily? Could I be the only one who struggled to let go?
‘Where are you all staying tonight?’ Cleopas interrupted my train of thought.
‘We'd planned to stay at Barak's Inn in Jerusalem.’ I replied, ‘And then head back to Emmaus tomorrow.’
‘With all the pilgrims here for the festival, by the time you get back to Jerusalem I expect that most of the inns will be full,’ Mary said. ‘You should stay with us at Martha's place in Bethany. She can fit us all in.’
‘That would be wonderful.’ Prisca almost squealed with excitement and was then clearly embarrassed at the sound of her voice.
‘I feel exactly the same,’ Junia was beaming as she reached out and reassured Prisca, ‘We’d love to come with you... and learn more from you.’
Aquila agreed and... and I felt trapped. I didn't know if I could face being around so many people who were ‘right’ with God, when... when I wasn't. I wanted space to be on my own, space to try and process all that had happened that morning, but I couldn't see any way out of it, so I nodded my agreement.
The crowd dispersed, most heading back down the hill to Jerusalem with instructions to split up and go in through different gates. Several hundred went in the opposite direction, towards Bethany and Bethpage, and within that group, there must have been about a hundred who were going to stay at Martha's.
Looking back, I understand what an amazing privilege it was to be there. These people had travelled and worked with Jesus for three years. They had seen countless miracles and performed them themselves, they had sat with Jesus over hundreds of meals as he taught them about the kingdom of God, about what God was really like. Aquila, Prisca and Junia understood and were as excited as young children before a Passover meal.
Aquila wore a smile so wide that I thought his cheeks would burst. He was walking with Cleopas and Thomas asking questions and listening intently to their answers. Junia and Prisca were almost skipping with joy as they walked alongside Mary, laughing often as she recounted tales of their times with Jesus.
But I felt like I was suffocating. I needed some space, so I stopped, bent down and made a show of fiddling with my sandal until the group were about twenty paces ahead. I stood up and let out a big sigh.
‘It's a lot to take in, isn’t it?’ the voice made me jump and I turned to see a man walking up behind me.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.’ He glanced back over his shoulder, ‘I just had to answer a call of nature.’
He was a small man, a little older than me with a weathered face and dark, deep-set eyes. There was a large scar on his left cheek and an intensity in his face, which would have looked sinister but for his broad smile.
He raised a hand in blessing, ‘Shalom, peace be with you brother. I don't believe we have met. My name is Simon, although I'm often known as Zee.’
‘Shalom, Simon. My name is Mordechai, but everyone calls me Motti.’ I was disappointed that my chance to be alone was gone, but at least I could be polite. ‘Why do they call you Zee?’
‘Because of my life before Jesus called me.’ He replied, gesturing that we should continue walking. ‘I used to be a Zealot and was in a few skirmishes with the Romans in my time.’ He gestured to his cheek, ‘It’s where I picked up this.’
‘You used to be a Zealot? And yet Jesus called you to follow him?’ I fell into step alongside him. Despite my desire to be alone, I felt my curiosity rising. ‘How did that happen? From the little I've understood so far, I thought Jesus was against violence.’
‘He was... He is,’ Simon corrected himself, ‘Even when he was being arrested, he was warning us against violence. A few of us attacked the guards, and he stopped us saying, “Those who live by the sword, die by the sword.” Hah! He was still teaching even then.’
‘So... if you don't mind me asking... given your, err... background, how did it come about that you were following him? It's just... just...’ I paused uncertain how to continue. I glanced at the group walking ahead and saw they were well out of earshot. Even so, I spoke in a low voice, ‘It's just that... that because of... of things that I've done... that... I mean I'm so far from being right, being acceptable... ’ I tailed off, unable to complete the sentence.
Simon stopped walking and turned to look at me, ‘You think God won’t accept you because of something in your past, and given that I was a Zealot, you want to know how it was that Jesus accepted me.’ He gave an understanding smile.
‘Yes... sort of.’ I said searching for the words, ‘It’s just that I'm struggling with all this.’ I gestured towards the group walking ahead of us down the hill, ‘I'm comfortable with God being in the temple. God is holy and pure, and before we enter the temple, before we come into his presence, we immerse ourselves in the mikvah. We... we say the Schema, we offer the sacrifices, but...’ I took a deep breath, ‘But this is so different... I mean... God meeting each of us directly...’ I paused again, ‘Look, I am not holy like a Pharisee and never will be. I'm terrified about the idea of God with me all the time... terrified that he will find me out, afraid that he will reject me… In fact, I think he already has.’
I’m not sure exactly what it was about Simon that made me feel I could open up to him like that. I think it helped that he was someone I didn't know, and that he had a past that I thought would have excluded him too. But I believe the main thing was timing. Since the experience in the street below the upper room, I'd felt drawn to know more of God and, at the same time, felt increasingly terrified of God. The pressure had built and built in my head, until finally I had to share it with someone, and Simon was there at the right time and place.
‘To be honest,’ Simon smiled again, ‘For pretty much all the time I was following Jesus I felt like a fraud. He knew... I know he knew what I'd done. We had so many conversations on the road where he tried to open my eyes to what God is like, but it’s probably only in these last two months that I'm beginning to understand. Let me tell you my story.’