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Counting the Omer – It is Real – and the Time is NOW!
It is the Season of Counting the Omer
Counting the Omer – It is Real – and the Time is NOW!
Day 42: And there was morning . . .
All across the wheat field of my life gentle breezes are super-charging the atmosphere with the sweet fragrances of holiness, remembrance, and rest. These fragrances are the heavenly counterparts of the earthly treasures we call gold, frankincense and myrrh. On the Sabbath, you see, the veil between the Heavenly and earthly realm is lifted. On the Sabbath, if we will but open our hearts and receive it, Heaven and earth not only touch – they walk together hand-in-hand for hours on end.
Day 41: And there was morning . . .
Thankfulness is the message of the golden stalks of wheat today. One stalk of golden wheat is giving thanks to the Holy One for the blessing the soil of earth and making it fertile. Another is expressing gratitude to the Holy One for carefully watching over and preserving the purity of the seed from which this field has sprouted. Yet another is thanking the Holy One for the early rains in season this very year. Another is thanking Him for the sweetness of the morning dew. Another is thanking the Holy One for the nurturing periods of sunlight He has sent. Another for the miracle of growth He has wrought. And yet another is thanking the Holy One for the long-term strengthening effects of the very trials and challenges that constituted the most unpleasant part of the journey.
Come and join in this great chorus of thanksgiving! What are YOU most thankful for?
Day 40: And there was morning . . .
The wheat is turning to gold and bowing as if in adoration of the King. The tares are standing stiff-necked and showing their true colors. In the season of harvest the true essence and character of everything growing in the field of our lives is revealed for all to see.
Day 39: And there was morning . . .
As I look over the wheat field of my life today it dawns on me that not all of the grain maturing before my eyes is destined to become this year’s bread. Some of the grain in this field will not be consumed this year at all, but will instead be set aside to serve as seed in future years. And so now in every head of grain I see the potential for multiple generations of blessings for the world — all according to the wise plan and impeccable timing of the Master of the Harvest.
May we all learn to see the people and things the Holy One places in our lives through the eyes of the Master – and to think of them unselfishly and cross-generationally the way He does.
Day 38: And there was morning . . .
This morning the wheat in the field of my life is slow to respond to the prophet’s call to awaken. The Master of the Harvest whispers to me: “‘This is what I call ‘the complacency syndrome.’ Complacency is an attitude of deceived self-satisfaction that flows from two things: 1. grossly overestimating one’s own state of maturation, and 2. grossly underestimating the Master of the Harvest’s ability to accomplish the extraordinary and wonderful.
Complacency is a form of death, because the complacent soul ceases to seek – or even believe in – anything higher, deeper, better, more worthy.
Arise! Shake off complacency! Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man what the Master of the Harvest has prepared for those who love Him!
Day 37: And there was morning . . .
As I pondered the goings-on in the wheat field of my life this morning I was overcome with the stunning reality “It is really happening!” There REALLY IS a slow, sure maturation process in motion. There REALLY IS a season of fruitfulness looming before me, a season which is unfolding day-by-day in accordance with a timetable no man can control. And in the distance, barely audible over the cries of flocks of geese that are passing by my field I can hear the sound of the Master of the Harvest sharpening His scythe.
Day 36: And there was morning . . .
The grains of wheat are ripening rapidly – but there are still two full weeks to go before harvest. Now is the time for patience, watchfulness, and prayer.
Day 35: And there was morning . . .
The wheat in my field bows low to honor the King. And each stalk and stem He has planted whispers as He passes through the field one tender refrain: ‘Holy, Holy, Holy’. Alas, the tares which have sprung up in the field do not get it. They are so self-consumed that they do not even realize there IS a King – much less that He is RIGHT HERE WITH THEM IN THIS FIELD TODAY.
Oh beloved tares, embrace and enjoy the Presence of the King – and let Him open your eyes to the beauty and transformative power of Sabbath rest!
Day 34: And there was morning . . .
Life is bursting forth everywhere in my wheat field today.
Wherever there is life there is hope.
Wherever there is hope there is peace.
And wherever there is peace there is deep, abiding, unflappable, unquenchable joy.
Day 33: And there was morning . . .
The presence of tares in the wheat field requires us to re-evaluate our own essential identity, our own unique purpose, and our own glorious destiny. Not everything that grows in the wheat field of life will be like us. Not every person is here on earth in this season for the same reasons you and I are here on earth at this season. Not everyone we meet will understand – much less appreciate – the priorities under which the Master of the Harvest calls and empowers us to operate. And alas not everyone we encounter in the wheat field of life will choose to enter the glorious destiny which our presence in the world in the midst of tares is designed to demonstrate is available to them.
The solution is not for us to try to look, talk, and act more like tares in hopes that the tares will think we are like them and accept us. The solution is for us to follow the genetic blueprint of the Master of the Harvest to the end, joyfully, peacefully, and lovingly becoming the best and most productive crop of wheat that has ever been seen on the planet. Tares release toxins and produce poison; let us release the fragrance of peace and produce the bread of life.
Day 32: And there was morning . . .
I had not noticed them before, but in the light of the sun this morning there they are, plain as day, popping up in every section of the wheat field of my life – full-grown TARES! When did these intruders take root in this field? How did I not recognize them sooner – and pluck them out before the roots went so deep? There they stand, sapping precious resources from the pure crop this field was designed to produce. They are cross-pollinating with the grains of good wheat. They constitute both an embarrassment to me and an eyesore to passers-by.
Much patience is required – and much wisdom. Neither my embarrassment nor what others think of my field is what matters. Despising the tares will not make them go away – my assigned task is to nurture and bless the wheat. In that may I be found faithful by the Lord of the Harvest.
Day 31: And there was morning . . .
According to the schedule handed down to us from Heaven the precious wheat which the Master of the Harvest has planted in the field of my life and yours is supposed to be ready for harvest and presentation in just a little over two weeks. My first inclination is to say ‘impossible – it can’t happen!’ To my eye, you see, the field looks so uneven, the stalks so… immature, the tender florets on the recently emerged heads so vulnerable to storm, pest, draught and blight that it would take a miracle to meet the Master’s schedule.
Take a deep breath. One day at a time send your roots deeper and deeper in your quest to find the rivers of living water. In the meantime, refresh yourself with whatever dew presents itself. Do not give up in the heat of the sun. And most of all, no matter what happens, do not for one moment stop believing in miracles.
Day 30: And there was morning . . .
Out on the Eastern horizon the morning sun is using a cloud bank to play ‘Where is the baby?’ with the world while it sends silent fingers of orange glow into my wheat field. Dark shadows retreat rapidly before glow-fingers. The dew-drop army, however, resists and lingers. It is unwilling to surrender its comfortable place of rest without putting up a fight it cannot win.
This is the lesson of COPING WITH CHANGE. Generally change occurs extremely gradually in the world of the wheat and the world of men. But occasionally a season of rapid transition is bound to come along. To reach a level of maximum fruitfulness every wheat field – and every man – must learn to navigate the challenges of both seasons of rapid transition and seasons of mundane repetitive sameness without surrendering to fear, anger, worry, stress, boredom or despair.
Day 29: And there was morning . . .
The fifth week of counting inaugurates yet a new stage of growth for the wheat in my field. All across the field heads of grain are beginning to crawl out of the flag leaf sheaths in which they have been secretly incubating. It is as if they came out of nowhere. And now there are millions of them, with more appearing every few moments. This is the great season of emergence. It is the appointed time for the heads of grain to arise, to dance, and to emit the sweet fragrance that will draw the agents of Divine pollination.
Signs of life are everywhere.
It is going to be a busy week!
Day 28: And there was Morning . . .
The fourth Sabbath since the counting of the omer began with the field bathing in the stunning brightness of a glorious full moon. In my mind’s eye I saw great caravans of pilgrims filling the road that goes past my field. I saw them as well as filling all the roads that go up from the four corners of the earth. The pilgrims were all bound for Jerusalem, the City of the Great King. And they were carrying their children upon their shoulders, and singing the joyful songs of Zion. And in my heart I was caught up in both their pilgrimage and in their song.
Day 27: And there was Morning . . .
As the sun rises on my wheat field today the air is humid and still. There is not the slightest hint of a breeze. The stalks drink the moisture out to the air while they can in expectation of fourteen full hours of stretching out to bask and grow in the scorching rays of the sun. As it is with the wheat so it is with us. Maturation does not come from comfort, ease and recreation; it comes from perseverance in the face of serious and prolonged seasons of testing.
Whatever others may do, as for me, this is my prayer: Let me be found faithful – faithful to the end.
Day 26: And there was Morning . . .
This morning the wheat field is blanketed in a heavy fog. Visibility is very minimal. Sometimes in life we cannot see clearly at all what lies ahead of us. At those times we have to simply calmly go about the business of doing what we know how to do, accept that there are things beyond our knowledge and beyond our ability to control or change, and trust the Master of the Harvest to care for us, provide for us, lead us, and bring us safely to both our destination and our destiny.
Day 25: And there was Morning . . .
My wheat field is half-way to harvest. There have been some tense moments already, and there are yet 24 more sunrises – and many more challenges I am sure – before I will be able to leave this field rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.
But the Master of the Harvest is faithful, and in reality it is His Wheat, not mine. He will watch over it, and He will cause it to mature in just the right way at just the right time. Selah!
Day 24: And there was Morning . . .
The jointing season creates in the wheat field a phenomenon somewhat like the emergence of a new generation of young adults creates in humankind. The new stems coming forth from the joints created on the initial stalks have a level of energy the stalks from which they came lack. But if separated from the life-giving flow of nutrients they receive through the stalks the new stems would quickly wither and die.
And so it is with humans. Every generation must draw off of the life-force and wisdom of the generation that gave it birth, or it will never see its destiny.
Honor your father and your mother!
Day 23: And there was Morning . . .
The 23rd sunrise finds that the wheat in my field has entered a new growth stage. The blades are ‘jointing’. Each remaining healthy stalk has formed the first hard joint out of which another stem will sprout.
This is the beginning of fruitfulness. We still have a long way to go before mature heads full of grain appear in the field, of course. For now however I rejoice greatly in the fact that the process has entered another stage.
Who has despised the day of small things?
Day 22: And there was Morning . . .
Day 21: And there was Morning . . .
The sunrise finds the quiet holiness of the Sabbath resting upon the wheat field. Reverence and remembrance have changed the atmosphere completely.
Both the odor of offense and the sounds of war are disappearing into the sweet singing of the Lord of the Harvest. Every note He sings releases waves of humility, forgiveness, healing, blessing, security and peace. As He showers His love on the field things that seemed frightening and maddening and frustrating a few hours ago melt away into childlike joy.
Each blade has fallen silent and is soaking up the beauty of His Voice. All stalks are now gently swaying in unison to the melody of His song.
Yes, there will be a harvest. And we will all see it. And hand-in-hand we will rejoice in the harvest together!
Day 20: And there was morning . . .
This morning my wheat field is a war zone. Drawn by the odor of offense, selfishness, and dissension being emitted by the blades of wheat in my field all kinds of very real enemies had come to feast.
The enemy forces did not distinguish between the blades of wheat they attacked. They attacked the emerald green stalks right along with the yellow-green and chartreuse stalks.
And as stalks of each color began to fall on all sides of the field, the realization slowly began dawned on the survivors that blades of wheat of different colors and different mindsets are not the real enemy after all, but that whatever color and whatever approach to life we have, and what sound we make when the wind blows on the field, when it comes right down to it we are not only all in the same war bur we are all on the same side.
Day 19: And there was morning . . .
The sunrise found me praying over my languishing wheat field. I was asking the Holy One to bring peace to the offended, angry shafts, to bring humility and compassion to the arrogant, selfish ones, and to bring unity among all the shafts of different colors and different mindsets.
Even as I spoke these prayers my eyes were opened and I saw series of vast enemy armies… approaching my field from every direction. A vast aphid army came from the North. The combined forces of the Cutworms and Stalk Borers poured in from the South, while Wheat Stem Maggots and Wireworms crawled in from the East and the Cricket and Mite Coalition threatened from the West. Simultaneously White Grubs and Slugs emerged from the earth, and Sawflys and Grasshoppers descended from above.
As the scent of blood draws a shark or the smell of fear incites a dog, the odor of offense, selfishness, and dissension being emitted by the blades of wheat in my field had drawn all kinds of enemies to the attack.
Day 18: And there was morning . . .
Alas, this morning finds my wheat field in a stage of dormancy. The blades with emerald-green stalks say they want to separate from the blades with yellow-green stalks. The blades with chartreuse stalks say they want their own field too. And all of them are suddenly expending all their energies, passions and time finding fault with the way one of the others does this thing or that.
Oh, my beloved blades of wheat: can you not see that focusing on our DIFFERENCES always prevents us from both soaking up His Radiance and drinking in His living water? It always shrouds us in darkness and makes us stiff and brittle, stagnant and useless. Let’s get over it . . . and get on with life!
Day 17: And there was morning . . .
Again this morning I heard an unhappy rumbling coming from my wheat field. I did not like the sound of that rumbling, so I ran to the field to find out what was going on. Some of the blades were saying that they just could never be what they were created to be and do what they were created to do in a field which had blades with different colored stalks. The emerald green blades were saying they belonged in their own field, because they didn’t like the sound the yellow-green blades made when the wind swept through the field. The yellow-green blades were offended. The chartreuse blades took up the yellow-green blades’ offense. Each group blamed the other. And to a blade, every one of them stopped growing.
Day 16: And there was morning . . .
As I was walking to the wheat field this morning I heard a horrible commotion. The blades of wheat were engaged in a heated argument over which group of them was the Master’s favorite sheaf. Some of the groups were arguing that their sheaf lined up best with the Master’s ideal standard of what wheat should be. Some were arguing that they made the most beautiful sound when the wind blew upon the field. Others were arguing that what they were producing was more valuable or important than what others were producing. Some were calling themselves ‘elect’. Many were calling themselves ‘remnant’.
The BAD WORDS I learned from the wheat today, my friends, are PRIDE and DIVISION. Run silent, run deep.
Day 15: And there was morning . . .
I noticed today that I am not the only one who is watching the progress of the wheat in my field. My spouse and children are watching. My neighbors are watching. The passersby on the roadway that runs past my field are watching as well.
And so it is with each of us. Someone is always watching. Someone is always listening for what that which is growing in the wheat field that is my life – and yours – is saying.
Day 14: And there was morning . . .
The dawning of this day finds the blades of wheat in my field laughing, dancing, absolutely full of joy. It is a day for REMEMBERING Whose we are, for GIVING THANKS to He Who planted us here, and for REJOICING over the privilege of being allowed to be here at such a time as this.
A sound like a mighty rushing wind arises, and half the field begins to sing ‘Shabbat Shalom’ [Sabbath Peace!]; then deep calls unto deep, and like the sound of many waters the other half of the field responds ‘Shalom Aleichem‘ [Peace be unto you!]
Day 13: And there was morning . . .
The wheat field is all in a tizzy this morning. The bees are here, and from seemingly every corner of the field one can hear buzzing.
And so it is in the field of human experience. Someone comes around causing a buzz about something or other, and there goes our peace. Welcome to the great ‘DRAMA’ DISTRACTION. Someone starts whispering about someone doing someth…ing dirty decent folks can frown on. Someone takes up the offense, jumps on a soapbox, and starts quoting cliches. Emotions are stirred. Sides are chosen. And for a few hours or days, everybody’s talking about something that will make absolutely no difference – if it is even remembered – by the next phase of the moon.
Beware the ‘DRAMA’ Distraction. Let the bees buzz. You are growing wheat to feed the world, not making honey to catch flies.
Day 12: And there was morning . . .
The blades of wheat are basking in the sun. To the casual observer they each look the picture of health. But the question being asked by the Master of the Harvest is not ‘How good does the wheat look on the outside?’ but ‘How Strong Is the Wheat’s Root System’? In other words, how much wind and intense heat can each individual blade in the field tolerate without withering and dying where it stands?
The season of extreme testing lies just ahead. And the answer to the Master’s question lies below the surface of our lives, in what the Psalmist called the ‘inward parts’.
Day 11: And there was morning . . .
The word being spoken today in the wheat field is PATIENCE.
Patience means staying calm and pleasant when having to WAIT for results one would prefer to see immediately. And it also means taking delay, difficulty, strain, insult, provocation, and even unfair bias in stride without complaint.
Patience or impatience is the true test as to whether a person lives primarily out of his or her short-sighted self-interest OR is instead anchored in and lives for something much greater.
Day 10: And there was morning . . .
The fog has lifted. It was just a passing cloudbank. The wheat field survived – and indeed this morning the blades – even the ones that complained the loudest yesterday – look today fuller and taller and stronger than ever. All the complaining they did yesterday seems so petty and foolish now. And that is the way it always works, for truly the only thing complaining accomplishes is to declare to the world how immature – and how clueless to the Great Plan and Timing of the Creator – the ones who complain really are.
Day 9: And there was morning . . .
The blades of wheat are shivering miserably in the cold, damp fog. Some of them are speaking BAD WORDS again. Today the bad word I hear most often is COMPLAINT.
Every complaint made on earth about any subject, you see, constitutes a slanderous accusation against the Creator of Heaven and earth that He is too unconcerned, too uncaring, or too incompetent to know what is going on with His Creation and to deal with the things He has created in a way that the speaker of the complaint thinks is appropriate.
Complaint is the venom of the serpent. But there is an antidote for this venom. It is a compound formed by joining HUMILITY with THANKFULNESS.
Day 8: And there was morning . . .
The blades of wheat in the field are all stretching forth to greet the dawn. The message being communicated from blade to blade is JOYFUL EXPECTATION.
It is a new day and a new week, and because we have a wonderful, caring, wise Father in Heaven who is in charge of the events of our lives we inherently sense that SOMETHING GOOD IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN to us in the week that has just commenced.
Instead of stressing and lamenting over how many bad things people are doing in the world around us today let us all start looking for SOMETHING GOOD in the world – with JOYFUL EXPECTATION.
Day 7: And there was morning . . .
Today the blades of wheat are flowing with the breeze, singing songs of hope, and dancing with joy.
It is the Sabbath, and all is right with the world.
Day 6: And there was morning . . .
Today the wheat is whispering the word ‘HYPOCRISY’. It is not an accusation being shouted in anger – it is just a gentle warning being whispered in tender affection. HYPOCRISY simply means being an actor – putting on a false identity, assuming a public role that is not a true reflection of who we really are privately, and playing that part before an audience, hoping for some kind of reward.
HYPOCRISY is a dangerous distraction – for the actor and for everyone else.
We only have a little time – so why not just be real?
Day 5: And there was morning . . .
The blades of wheat in my field are standing noticeably taller this morning. Each one is like the other, yet unique. And as I gaze at this paradox, another BAD WORD enters my mind. The word is SELF-CENTEREDNESS.
A self-centered approach to life is the essence of every DISTRACTION that diverts our attention and energy away from mission, purpose and destiny.
We are each carefully designed and created by a Master Craftsman, so of course each of us is unique, precious, and beautiful. But maximizing who WE are, broadcasting how WE feel, telling everybody what WE think, like, don’t like, believe and don’t believe etc., is not what this world needs, much less why we are here. We each have a role to play – but it is neither the role of DIRECTOR or the LEAD role in the drama.
Our unique beauty shines brightest when we stand confidently, joyfully, and yet respectfully, alongside all our fellow blades of wheat grass in the great field of life, eyes to heaven, glorifying our Maker.
Day 4: And there was morning . . .
BAD WORDS are everywhere. Today while watching the wheat grow in the field I heard the warning ‘BEWARE THE DISTRACTION OF ‘OFFENSE’. An offense is to the soul what a compound-fracture is to the body. Every time we let some person or occurrence take our peace and joy, make us angry, or frustrated, or resentful, or hurt, or affronted, we disable ourselves, release toxins into the atmosphere, and reveal our weakness.
Every offense turns the focus of life away from purpose and mission to ‘us’, our feelings, and our opinions about right and wrong, fair and unfair. Call for the stretcher – another one bites the dust!
Day 3: And there was morning . . .
While watching the wheat grow today I heard another BAD WORD. This time the word was WORRY.
WORRY always leads to yesterday’s bad word, DISTRACTION, because to indulge in worry means to be distracted from one’s purpose and mission in life by alien thoughts – thoughts of fear or anxiety over some future event, confrontation, or situation that may or may not ever happen and which one cannot control.
Worrying means wasting time, energy, strength and emotion.
Just focus on the mission to which you are called, and take one step toward that mission at a time.
No worries, mate!
Day 2: And there was morning . . .
I heard a BAD WORD today as I was walking out to check on the status of the wheat growing in the field of my life! But it might not be the kind of BAD WORD you think.
The bad word I heard today is DISTRACTION. Distraction is the opposite of FOCUS and is the arch-enemy of PURPOSE and DESTINY.
A distraction is anything that draws away your thoughts, energies, or emotions OR diverts your attention and your efforts away from that which you were created to do.
Distraction is a very, very BAD WORD. Recognize it for what it is . . . then shake it off and move on!
Day 1: And there was morning . . .
Counting the omer – it’s not just about the numbers. In fact it’s not really about the numbers at all. It’s about the process of developing. It’s about step-by-step maturity. It’s about becoming.
Let the Holy One take your hand and lead you to a secret place – a vantage point from which you can see clearly what is happening in the wheat field of your life. Remember and meditate upon the Master’s parables about the sower and the seed about the wheat and the tares [both in Matthew 13] about the grain of wheat that falls into the earth and dies [in John 12] about the phases of the harvest [in Mark 4:26-29] and about the debt of wheat [in Luke 16].
And as you inspect this year’s growth and seek to learn from the Master how to maximize the return, listen at the breaking of each day for wise counsel blowing in the wind.
Ha-Talmid – The Journal of the Follower/Disciple, Part V
Ah, but back to what happened at the River that day long ago.
The intoxicating Countenance of the Glorious Stranger and the stunning reverberations of John’s ‘HINEI – SEH HA-ELOHIM!’ declaration had my inner-child’s heart deliciously all a-flutter.
In my Hebrew spirit I was dancing like David danced, and singing like Miryam sang.
But alas, my grown-up, Greek-speaking, religiously-trained natural mind was having a hard time joining in.
My heart was leaping with joy; but my mind kept thinking things like “Foolishness!” and “Blasphemy!”.
Sometimes, Dear Reader, it is amazing how VASTLY the Greek-educated mind over-estimates its own intelligence!
John’s breathless ‘HINEI! SEH HA-ELOHIM!’ declaration was the only introduction we had to the Glorious Stranger. While at the River that day He had not even looked in our direction, much less spoken to us. He had not uttered a word of teaching or spoken so much as a ‘Shalom’ in our hearing.
But when we saw Him walking away, going back to wherever He came . . . well, we could not bear to just let Him go.
We looked at John. He smiled a gentle smile as if to say “B’SEDER” [it is alright or in order].
And that is when Andrei and I took the first fateful steps in what was to become a lifetime of following after the Man Whom John had called the LAMB OF GOD.
Ha-Talmid – The Journal of the Follower/Disciple – Part IV
I had gone to the River that day with my old friend Andrei. You probably know him as ‘Andrew’.
He and his brother Sh’mon were fishermen from Beit-Tzaida, near Kafer-Nahum. You probably know his brother as ‘Simon’ or ‘Simon Peter’.
And who am I, you ask? That will be revealed in good time.
You must understand, however, from the outset, that the story you are reading is not about me. This story is about the Glorious Stranger I met at the River that fateful day.
Do you know the Glorious Stranger, Dear Reader? If you do not know Him, it is my prayer that through this journal you will come to know Him and love Him as I do. And if you do know Him, it is my prayer that through this journal you will come to know and love Him in the fullness of your own unique way, and even more than I ever could. For He is worthy.
– Ha-Talmid
Ha-Talmid – The Journal of the Follower/Disciple – Part III
Time seemed to stand still there by the River that day as our eyes drank in the sight of the Stranger. Who knows how long my companion and I stood there in awkward silence.
And then our ears heard something like a groan burst forth from deep within John’s soul. We looked at him and saw that his countenance had changed completely. His weathered facial features shone like those of a newborn child. His familiar expression of fierce intensity had melted into sweet peace and childlike joy.
The next words out of John’s lips were to us like what you might consider a nursery rhyme. From toddlerhood we had heard of our ancestor Avraham [Ah-V'RAH-em]. One of our favorite stories was about Avraham and Yitschak [whom you call Isaac] climbing Mount Moriyah to become the first Hebrews to worship in that holy place. Halfway up the hill Yitschak paused and asked his father a very difficult question: “AYEH HA-SEH? [Where is the lamb?]”
So you see Beloved, what we heard John doing that day at the River was simply answering Yitschak’s question: ‘HINEH! SEH HA-ELOHIM! [Behold, the lamb of God!"]
– Ha-Talmid
Ha-Talmid – The Journal of the Follower/Disciple – Part II
We had not as of yet heard the Glorious Stranger speak a single word.
We had not seen Him do a single miracle.
We had no reason at that moment to believe that He ever would.
He was a man of the earth like us. He was no taller, more broad-shouldered, or more handsome than the rest of us at the River that day.
And yet something about His Countenance drew us to Him in a most captivating way. It was as if He KNEW that we would be here at the River today, that we would gasp when we saw Him, and that we would be captivated by Him. And all we wanted to do was get to know Him.
We just had no idea how.
I had stumbled upon John a few months before the Stranger showed up at the Jordan that day. Like most of my countrymen, I was sick to death at the mockery of Roman architecture Herod had made of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem [through back-breaking taxes he collected from us, of course]. And I had become totally disillusioned with the policies of the corrupt Sadducean High Priesthood which Rome controlled with carrot and stick and sold to the highest bidder.
I had been looking for something REAL, something about which I could be PASSIONATE again, and John had re-introduced me to hope.
I did not know it yet, but the Glorious Stranger John now bid me to BEHOLD was about to lead me into much, much more!
– Ha-Talmid
Ha-Talmid – The Journal of a Follower/Disciple
Ha-Talmid - the Follower/Disciple