Capernaum, Israel, the adoptive, temporary residence for Jesus, emits a unique feeling walking within its excavated site. Tranquility slips into my soul, like a down-filled coverlet, as I wander in quiet reflectiveness seeking solitude among and around crowds. My thoughts, producing a visionary diorama, transport me back centuries to witness other crowds flocking this hillside trading village overlooking the northwestern area of the Sea of Galilee. Standing apart, unnoticed beneath a large tree, I suddenly become thirsty, finding myself begging for water without moving my lips. My parched tongue, staunched by wonder, speaks nothing though my heart feels the purest, most refreshing droplets relieving dryness, surfacing under eyelids immersed in the fountain of living water. Then, quickly flashing forward, following his footsteps, I observe him where another group congregates, this one of mourners and comforters in Bethany. His focus, as usual, is on the individual in painful suffering. I also remember a sorrowful experience that took him to a desert place. Next, the scene goes to a garden without Jerusalem’s walls. What has brought me to these places? Before I realize it, I find myself standing still with a full heart and moist eyes, trying to absorb every detail of the Capernaum sculpture, back to reality only in body. Where am I? Past? Present? My mind hears softly spoken, two words.
A life-sized bronze cast of many copies by a Canadian sculpturist, Timothy Schmalz. The original is in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Casts are found in many cities around the world, and became the focus of International Day of the Poor, November 17, 2019.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ald1bu5LLWs
I was drawn to the bleak facelessness wrapped tightly in almost full-body covering. The feet, with nail prints, are exposed. I imagine crossed arms hugging the blanket for warmth. I see my feelings exposed to the elements with goosebumps spreading from my shoulders to wrists in the midday heat of Capernaum. I hear the words, “The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.” (Matthew 8:20)
“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35) These two simple words touch the deepest part of me. Mostly, we read of his compassion and untiring devotion to others, even when exhausted. Seldom do we glimpse his innermost feelings, for they take place in desert places, on mountains, or in the Garden of Gethsemane. Poignant moments with people he loves, Martha, Mary, and their deceased brother Lazarus further testify of his empathy and ability to understand my pain, suffering, and grief, a fraction of the burdens he would bear in the Garden. Mine, so nanoscopic a matter, yet felt and known by my Savior, humbles this unworthy but grateful creature. His groaning and weeping, his love.
1 Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha.
Holy Bible, King James version. John 11
3 Therefore his sisters sent unto him, saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick.
5 Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.
32 Then when Mary was come where Jesus was, and saw him, she fell down at his feet, saying unto him, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.
33 When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled,
34 And said, Where have ye laid him? They said unto him, Lord, come and see.
35 Jesus wept.
36 Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him!
37 And some of them said, Could not this man, which opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have died?
38 Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it.
This account always brings free-flowing tears. Profoundly drawn to emotional expressions, I internalize. I see the humongous scab-scarring wound of my grief and visualize the Son of God’s pain, even with the knowledge of his identity, purpose, and what he will do for those he loves, showing forth power to glorify his Father. What strength it must have taken for Jesus not to go straight to those he loves upon hearing of the sickness afflicting Lazarus. In the company of those he loves, Jesus weeps! He groans within himself! Then the diorama’s setting changes to a grove of olive trees outside Jerusalem’s walls, where shadows of the past live in the evening hours, revealing a man, but not just any man — the Son of God, accompanied by faithful apostles, three of whom he keeps close at hand. I, as unripened fruit of his teachings, hang around, watching the unfolding drama.
| Matthew 26:36-39 | Mark 14:32-36 | Luke 22:39-40, 42-44 |
| 36 Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder. 37 And he took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. 38 Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me. 39 And he went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt. | 32 And they came to a place which was named Gethsemane: and he saith to his disciples, Sit ye here, while I shall pray. 33 And he taketh with him Peter and James and John, and began to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy; 34 And saith unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto death: tarry ye here, and watch. 35 And he went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. 36 And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt. | 39 And he came out, and went, as he was wont, to the mount of Olives; and his disciples also followed him. 40 And when he was at the place, he said unto them, Pray that ye enter not into temptation. And he was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast, and kneeled down, and prayed, 42 Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. 43 And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him. 44 And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground. |
“O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me…”
How do his pleading words make you feel?
How is the cup symbolic?
Words paint the colourful diorama of Christ’s exclusive intense hours with powerful imagery in his expressions of affliction and grief beyond human comprehension in the Garden scene. And the singularity of “wept” drenches my selfish mindset with a much-needed perspective. Like a camera’s aperture, my spiritual eyes keep focus on the intimacy of my relationship with my Heavenly Father and His Son. One word, one lens, one eye single, one life, one day, one me. Jesus wept.
Which scenic dioramas entertain your ‘stage’ when pondering the words or the life of Jesus Christ?
What emotional response do they prompt?
Life Happens in Scriptural Musings. . . so do Dioramas, Prayers, What Lack I Yet, Swords and Shields, Rescues, the Shepherd, and Faith and Wholeness.
Life Happens. . . so do Storms, and Skeletons, Feet, Tents, Father/Daughter Memories, Missing Pieces, Waves, Gingerbread, What am I to do Now, and Choices.
I loved the phrase you used…‘I as unripened fruit’. I touched me.