John's Story
recorded by James Synge
(scroll down for some questions for reflection at the end of the story)
It can’t be true.
That was my first thought when Mary told us that she had met with Jesus. It can’t be true. I was certain that she was having some sort of grief-induced hallucination, and as gently as I could, I tried to help her understand the impossibility of what she was saying. However, she was adamant about what she’d seen, so a number of us went out to the area of the tomb again, but there was no sign of Jesus, risen or dead.
After our fruitless search, I went to make some subtle enquires with my contacts at the house of the high priest, trying to find out if the authorities had taken his body. I spent several hours finding and talking with the people I knew in the high priest’s household, but they’d heard nothing helpful. They all reported the rumour that Jesus’ disciples had taken his body. Frustrated at my lack of progress in solving the mystery, I went back to the upper room late afternoon.
When I walked into the room, I was shocked by the transformation that had taken place. When I’d left earlier in the day the atmosphere in the room was a mixture of grief, depression and fear mixed in with a frustration with Mary’s outlandish story. But I came back into a room that was buzzing with hope and excitement. There were several people talking at once, and Peter and Mary were the focus of attention.
When he saw me, Peter rushed over and grabbed me excitedly by the shoulders. ‘I didn’t believe it either,’ he said, ‘but it’s true! Jesus is alive!’
I stood there, staring at him in disbelief. ‘What?’ I eventually managed to say.
‘It’s true,’ he repeated, ‘Jesus appeared to me too. He really has come back from the dead. I don’t understand it, but he has. That means we still have hope, God is still on the move here.’
I could see the conviction in his eyes, the same that had been there from Mary earlier, but I just couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t possible.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ I said, still unwilling to believe it, ‘Maybe you both saw some sort of ghost?’
‘I know it’s hard to believe,’ Peter replied, ‘but we didn’t just see him… he spoke to us, and… and we touched him! He wasn’t a ghost, he was real.’
‘There must be another explanation.’ I said, ‘Tell me exactly what happened.’
They both went over their stories; Peter explaining in detail his encounter with Jesus and Mary repeating what she’d said earlier in the day. The others all listened carefully, occasionally asking questions for clarification. I felt that Peter was leaving something out of his account, but it was clear that they were both convinced they’d met with Jesus. It seemed that their certainty had persuaded most of the others too.
I was sceptical… I wanted it to be true, but it just didn’t make sense. Could two different people both be so full of grief that they imagined they’d met with Jesus?
It was at that point that Cleopas and his wife Mary burst through the door. ‘Jesus is alive!’ they said as they came into the room.
‘Mary Magdalene was right.’ Cleopas said breathlessly, ‘He appeared to us and walked with us all the way to Emmaus. He spoke with us about how all the prophets had said the Messiah must suffer.’
Mary joined in, ‘Every word he spoke to us rang true, like it always does with Jesus… you know… in the way his teaching lights up your mind and sets your heart on fire. We didn’t recognise him till he stopped to eat with us and broke bread.’
‘You didn’t recognise him? How could you walk from here to Emmaus with Jesus and not recognise him?’ I felt a strange desperation rising in me as I asked the question. It just could not be true.
Suddenly I had the answer, ‘If you didn’t recognise him, how can you be sure it was really him?’
‘I didn’t recognise him at first, he’s younger.’ Mary Magdalene said, ‘The lines on his face are gone and his beard is a different shape, tidier than before.’
Peter agreed with her and added that Jesus still had the marks of the nails from the cross in his hands.
‘He also wore a hood for most of our walk,’ Cleopas explained, ‘and to be honest we weren’t looking too closely at the time, we were walking alongside each other most of the way to Emmaus.’
Four of them now were claiming they’d met Jesus. They were all so sure of what they had witnessed. The desperation in me grew. If it was true, then Jesus had chosen to appear to them, and not to me. Had I failed in some way? If he was really back from the dead, then surely, he would have appeared to me. It didn’t seem fair.
I know how childish that sounds, but I’m ashamed to say that’s how I felt at the time. I knew I’d done the right things; I’d been a model disciple. Alright… yes, I’d ran away with the others from the Garden of Gethsemane when they arrested Jesus, but I’d justified that as Jesus had said that the soldiers should let us go. After that I’d gone straight to find out where they’d taken him. I’d gone straight to the house of the high priest and asked questions to find out what was happening. I’d been there in the square as he was sentenced, shouting that they should free him. I didn’t give up trying, not even when a temple guard pushed me to the ground and hit me. I’d supported the women and especially his mother as we followed the procession out to Golgotha. I’d stood there by the cross, unafraid of the Romans and temple guards. In his final moments, he’d given me the job of caring for his mother. I was there when he died, and I had stayed there throughout, gently holding his mother as she wept.
If Jesus had risen from the dead, then why hadn’t he appeared to me? I found myself getting angry as I thought about it.
I ought to explain.
You see, from the moment Jesus called me to follow him, I’d always worked hard to be the perfect disciple. There is no way I would have qualified to be a disciple of a ‘normal’ Rabbi. I was quick to learn and fascinated with the scriptures, but the scribe that taught the children the Torah at our synagogue was next to useless. So, my knowledge wasn’t good enough to make any Rabbi believe that I could learn from him. However, Jesus saw past that. Jesus saw my potential, and he encouraged it. And when he said, ‘Follow me.’ I was determined that I would be the best disciple any Rabbi had ever had.
I listened intently every time he taught, asked questions for clarification at every opportunity, watched carefully what he did in each miracle he performed, and more. When I discovered that he got up before dawn to pray, then I started doing the same. When I saw the way he cared for people, I tried to copy his actions… although at that time I never felt true compassion for people, but I wanted to do what Jesus did.
It was his teaching that fascinated me most, I could never get enough of it. The authority with which he spoke, the stories he wove into his teaching, the way he opened the scriptures to us and gave us new understanding… all this made his teaching captivating. It wasn’t just the content of his teaching though, even the things he taught that I didn’t understand still held my attention.
It’s hard to describe, but every word he spoke had power in it; you could feel his words lighting up the darkest corners of you mind, chasing away ignorance, increasing your faith, and helping you to see things differently. It’s like he was saturated with light and love, and it leaked from him in every word and in every action.
I was committed to following him, to becoming like him in every way. I even worked on changing my accent, so that I sounded like him… which got me a lot ribbing from the others. That didn’t bother me, I was focussed and worked at being the best. Sometimes the lack of commitment of the others frustrated me, but I was secretly glad, as I thought they just made me look better.
It all worked though… Jesus saw I was committed, and he made me part of his inner circle. I was glad that James, my brother, was part of that small group, but I could never understand why Peter was. He often got things wrong, and rarely seemed to take on board what Jesus was saying. I couldn’t understand why Jesus referred to Peter as the rock on which he’d build his church. In my eyes I was clearly the better disciple, I just needed to work harder to show Jesus that I was his man.
I remember early one morning, I rose as usual whilst it was still dark, and made my way out to pray. We’d all been late to turn in the night before, and I’d not slept well as I’d been puzzling over some of the things Jesus had said, and working out my questions for the following day. As a result, I’d found it a lot harder getting up that morning, but I gritted my teeth, told myself that I was doing all this for Jesus, and forced myself to get out and pray.
I walked some distance away from the camp to find a quiet spot to say the morning prayers. I was just getting ready when a hand on my shoulder made me jump… it was Jesus.
‘John,’ he said, as I turned to face him, ‘What are you looking for?’
My first thought was that this must be a test. I wondered if he was referring to one of the parables about the kingdom he’d shared with us the day before, something about a merchant looking for fine pearls…
‘No John,’ he laughed gently, ‘this is not a test… What are you looking for? Tell me what’s on your heart. And this time, don’t ask me where I am staying!’
I laughed nervously, remembering the time when Andrew and I had first met him, and said just that in response to the same question.
What was I looking for? I paused and thought for a moment, ‘I want to see the Kingdom of Israel re-established in my time,’ I said at last, ‘but it’s more than that. Underneath all that, I think what I long for is for things to be different. I want an Israel where people aren’t oppressed, where they don’t have to worry where the next meal is coming from. I want an Israel where God’s peace and justice are everywhere, where His righteousness is in everyone’s heart. And I want to be part of making that happen, I want to make a difference.’ I let out a huge breath. I’d never even articulated that to myself before, and it felt good to say it out loud.
Jesus smiled, ‘John, you will be part of bringing God’s peace and justice and righteousness in more than just Israel, but not if you work yourself into the ground.’
‘Yes Lord… but I’m doing all this for you and I’m doing it for God.’ I replied.
‘Hmmm,’ he said, ‘for me and for God? Are you sure that’s who you are doing it for?’
I remember that he paused and looked at me for a long time, then said ‘John, remember this… the Father loves you… and I love you.’
He paused again, looked me straight in the eye as he said ‘Your passion for justice, your zeal for God’s kingdom, your desire to become more like me, these are all evident in the things you do… but all your hard work does not make the Father love you any more than he already does. He, and I, love you completely… always.’
‘Yes lord. Thank you, Lord,’ I replied, not quite sure where all this was going.
Jesus continued, ‘One day John, you will know our love completely… one day it will flow through you like a river. Then you won’t have to act like you care, our compassion will just flow through you… then you won’t have to strive, feeling that you have to earn God’s love, you will understand the enormity of God’s love for you, and for all people. Then all that you do will flow from the knowledge of that love. For now, you just get glimpses of the love that is to come, but then… then you will know with your whole being just how much you are loved.’
‘Thank you, Lord,’ I said again, even more unsure of his meaning.
Jesus sighed, ‘For now John, just remember that I love you. Never forget that… I love you. Now, shall we pray together this morning?’
‘Yes, lord.’ I said beaming, and my heart leapt as we turned to face in the direction of Jerusalem and started the morning prayers.
I’d like to say that I understood what he meant and that I stopped striving, but I didn’t. I wanted to be his right-hand man, I needed to be better than the others, I needed to be more… Hah! As if by my own efforts I could actually bring the kingdom of God here on earth…
I share all this with you so that you understand why I was sure that, if Jesus was alive, he would have appeared to me. If he appeared to anyone, I was sure it would have been me.
I realise now that if he’d done that, it would have been a disaster for me, and for all the others… I was too arrogant… too sure of myself… I was all wrapped up in trying to prove how good I was, rather than just letting God’s love work through me… I was more concerned about being right, than about the very peace and justice that I claimed was my desire.
I know all that now… but at the time… at the time I felt it wasn’t fair. I was just about beginning to believe that maybe he had appeared to the others, and as much as the idea excited me, I felt confused, and hurt, and angry.
I walked away, I couldn’t bear to hear any more and I wanted some space. I made an excuse and went downstairs and barred the door; we didn’t want any unwelcome visits from the authorities. As I came back upstairs, I could hear Cleopas and Mary telling the others about the things Jesus had said to them. I was lost in my own thoughts and wasn’t really paying attention to anything they said.
And then it happened.
As I reached the top of the stairs, I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye… I turned to look and saw that Jesus was right there with us in the room!
It was all true!
The others were so engrossed in Cleopas and Mary’s story, that they hadn’t noticed. I stood there like a statue, paralysed by hope and fear; hope that it might really be him, fear that it might be a ghost, and fear that he would know what I’d been thinking.
Jesus looked at me and smiled. ‘Peace be with you.’ his voice carried easily over the noise in the room.
As Jews, our normal greeting would be Peace to you, or peace be with you. But most times it was said it was in an unthinking, automatic way. However, whenever Jesus spoke those words, they carried the very essence of light, and life, and love. I experienced that familiar sense of God’s love and power, as his words of peace washed over me, a beacon of light in the dark confusion in my mind, and I felt my fears subside.
I saw Jesus’ words have a similar effect on the others. The conversation stopped, everyone turned and saw him standing there. There was a pause before a mixture of shouts of joy and shrieks of fear erupted from the group. Those that had seen him before were excited at seeing him again, those of us that hadn’t were terrified by the reality of the stories we’d just been hearing. It was one thing to hear stories about meeting Jesus, it was entirely different to experience it for yourself.
Jesus laughed, that deep resonant laugh that expressed such joy in life, ‘You should see your faces,’ he said, ‘There is no need to be afraid, this is really me. Don’t doubt the stories you’ve heard and don’t doubt what you see now before you. This is me.’
When we still hesitated, he said, ‘Look at my hands and feet, I still carry the wounds from the nails. Touch me and know that I am not a ghost, I am flesh and bones just as you all are.’
Peter and Mary Magdalene were trying to get round the group to Jesus, but he held up his hand. Still smiling he said, ‘Hang on a moment you two, we need to give the others some space to take this in.’
‘Cleopas, is there anything here to eat? I had to leave in a hurry from Emmaus, and I never did get a bite of that bread.’ He laughed again. Cleopas picked up some broiled fish, brought it to Jesus and he ate it.
That simple act unlocked all the reservations we had. Suddenly we were all around him, wanting to touch him, joining in with his laughter, and full of wonder and joy. When things had settled down, he invited us to sit and eat with him.
Whilst we ate, he reminded us that he had told us that this would happen; that the Son of Man would be killed and rise again on the third day. I must confess, I’d never taken that literally. I thought that was just a parable that I didn’t understand. I’d put it to one side to think about later… and then forgotten about it.
Jesus took us on a tour through the scriptures, helping us to see all the places in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms where it said this must happen. I had studied the scriptures and listened to his teaching for years, but I’d completely missed this. It was like the sun breaking through the clouds, light suddenly dawned, and scripture came alive in a whole new way.
‘It doesn’t end there.’ said Jesus, ‘There is so much more that you need to understand about the Kingdom of God. I will teach you more of this over the coming weeks, but the Holy Spirit will help you understand more fully. I know you don’t grasp all this yet, but don’t’ worry, wait until you receive the promise of the Father, wait until you are clothed with power from on high. Then, as you learn to see things differently, to understand the love, and grace, and forgiveness of God, so you will be empowered to share that good news. The whole world needs to hear that there is nothing that can separate them from God’s love. As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you. You will be my witnesses to all of this.’
We were hanging on his every word, rejoicing at being in his presence again, when there was a pounding on the door downstairs. I looked round in surprise, and when I looked back, Jesus was gone.
Thoughts/questions for reflection:
1. How did this story make you feel?
2. Were there things in the story that jarred, or resonated with you? Why is that?
In the story, John is working to be the perfect disciple, striving to be more like Jesus, wanting to be acceptable in his own eyes and in the eyes of God. For him success would be sitting at the right or left hand of Jesus when he restores the kingdom of Israel (Matthew 20:20-24, Mark 10:35-41). However, Jesus points out that God doesn’t love him any more for all he’s doing.
Often people believe that the only way they can be acceptable to themselves and others is if they achieve ‘success’, however they define success. The problem in having to achieve in order to feel acceptable is that any ‘success’ is temporary and there is always something more to be done, which means that there is pressure to achieve again in order to feel acceptable and we continue round an unhealthy cycle.
Frank Lake, a prominent psychologist in the 20th century, identified this pattern as being stuck in a ‘Cycle of Works.’
3. Do you recognise the cycle of works in the world?... in your own life?
In the story, Jesus told John that there would be a time when all that he did would come from the foundation of knowing he was fully known and completely loved by God; knowing that he was acceptable, just as he was. The things he then achieved would flow naturally from that place. This is the opposite of the cycle of works, and Frank Lake called this the ‘cycle of grace’.
4. If you reflect on the concept of the cycle of grace, how does it make you feel?
Jesus asks John a question, ‘What are you looking for?’
We have many things that we might hope for in life; short-term hopes for things like a good night’s sleep, a good day at work, or a time of laughter and fun with friends and family… medium-term hopes for a good holiday, or a promotion at work… longer-term hopes for a new job, or massive things like solutions to the climate change problems we are facing.
It’s a great feeling if we get/achieve/experience the things we hope for, but that feeling rarely, if ever, lasts. I think there is something more behind all the hopes that we may have, some deeper longings. We rarely stop to reflect on what those deeper longings might be, but this is what Jesus is getting at when he asks John that question.
5. If you pause and think about it, what are your deepest longings?
…for you? …for your family and friends? …for the world?
Imagine Jesus is right there with you as you read this book. As he looks at you, he asks, ‘What are you looking for?’ What would you say?
A prayer to finish
Loving Father,
Thank you for the love that you have for all humanity.
As we journey through this Easter season,
Help us to understand that we are loved just as we are
Help us to discover our deepest longings, and
Help us to receive the love that you long to pour into our lives
So that your light would shine in us
And all we do would flow from the knowledge of your love
Amen
Ignatian imaginative contemplation on this passage
As before, the background and the story provide a window to help look at the passage imaginatively for yourself. If you want to go deeper:
Ask God to speak to you through the passage
Slowly read the Bible passage again
Visualise yourself as one of the characters, or as an observer. You might work through the whole passage, or just sit with a certain scene within it.
Pay attention to the details of the scene; what do you see, hear and smell?
Notice what you feel as you immerse yourself in the passage?Again, ask God what he wants you to take away from this.
You might like to note any thoughts or feelings in a journal before moving onto the next chapter.
next chapter.
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