During the 50 Days of Easter, my blog will be musings by Joseph of Arimathea on the amazing happenings of the time between Easter and Pentecost--between the Resurrection and the Coming of the Holy Spirit on the disciples. Enter with me into this imagined series of recollections by Joseph. (The image today is Pentecost by Canadian artist Gisele Bauche.) Religious Art Gallery - by Gisele Bauche (spiritualityandart.ca)
The streets of Jerusalem filled with foreigners over the days following the amazing Ascension of Jesus of Nazareth. They came for the major Jewish feast of Shavuot, 50 days after the
Passover. Over the centuries it had become one of the important festivals of
the faith when Jews from all over the world tried to come to Jerusalem. (Passover
and Sukkot were the other feasts men were to attend in Jerusalem at least
once in your life.) Shavuot is the celebration remembering, most importantly,
the giving of Torah to Moses on Mt. Sinai during the Exodus when we became the
People of God. Many people celebrated by bringing the first fruits of their
early wheat harvest as gifts to the Temple.
I had not really been counting the days since Passover
because so many other new things had been revealed. Usually, I prepared by reading
the Book of Ruth to commemorate the kingship of David and how his lineage
traced back to the beginning. Then on the Eve of Shavout I would join the other
leaders in a synagogue or in the Temple taking turns reading through the entire five books of Torah.
When I realized that Shavuot was near, I was surprised when
Matthew mentioned that Jesus was of the lineage of David. He suggested that we
read the Book of Ruth and then recite the Lord’s lineage until this time.
“Yes!” I didn’t usually speak first in the assembly because
I felt rather like a late-comer to the group. “I am happy to take a turn at
reading if someone else will recite the lineage forward to
Jesus of Nazareth.”
And so it was that we began. The evening stretched into the
dark night as we read the story of how a foreign woman became the grandmother
of a King, and recited the names of the ancestors of David. Every so often
someone would ask me to tell more about one of the men mentioned. I was glad to
share what I knew. It made me feel more a part of the group than before.
Matthew took up the recitation of Jesus’ lineage from David to the present and I leaned forward to hear all the familiar names in a new light.
"It is wonderful when we see how God's saving work stretched from the beginning of time until this new creation," I stated.
Everyone nodded. As often happened Mary of Magdala began to chant a psalm. We all joined in. I felt closer to these men and women, and to God than I had felt in all my years serving on the Council and worshiping in the Temple.
As we were praying and singing psalms, something amazing
happened. There was suddenly a giant gust of wind that banged the shutters
backward and rushed into the room. Before anyone could respond, we felt
enveloped in warmth. In shock we all saw what looked like flickering flames dancing
in the air over each person.
Our songs of praise in Hebrew became songs of praise in many other languages. I recognized Greek and Egyptian and heard myself speaking in the Celtic language, which had long eluded me despite my trading with the people in distant Britain.
Each of us reacted in a different way to this amazing
occurrence. Peter leaned out the window to shout into the street. The Mary’s
were in tears and dancing together while singing in a trio of languages. James
and John began laughing like boys, while Andrew and Matthew joined Peter at the
window.
It was cacophony, but beautiful. I sat bemused, feeling
wrapped in the warmth and surrounded by a love I had never experienced before.
I wanted to run and dance and sing like a child and I wanted to just sit in the
embrace of the love.
Eventually I heard shouts from the street.
“They are drunk.”
“Shame to be drunk so early on Shavout.”
Peter laughed and responded, “Men of Jerusalem, we are not
drunk as you suppose. It is only nine in the morning! This is what was promised to
our forefathers. The prophet Joel said, “In the last days, God says, I will
pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy. Your
young will see visions. Your elders will dream dreams. Even upon my servants,
men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy."
Peter went on to tell the crowd about Jesus. I listened, astonished by the courage and clarity with which he spoke. Less than two moon
rises ago, this man had been in hiding like a terrified rabbit. Now, he was not even
intimidated by the glowering presence of members of the Council who appeared in
the crowd.
Surely this was the work of God. I shook my head and took a deep breath, realizing I was part of that work, too. I wondered what I would do. Certainly, I was no longer an accepted member of the Sanhedrin.
"Maybe I will
take a more active role in my tin trading business with the Celts in far-off Britain," I mused to myself, content for now to just sit and feel the Love of God surrounding me and everyone in the room.
Note from Cindy: Joseph of Arimathea has fascinated me
for a long time. Legend says that he did indeed go to Britain, and so say that
he took the Holy Grail (the chalice from the Last Supper) to Glastonbury. Thanks
for coming along on this imaginary journey with Joseph of Arimathea through
these 50 days of Easter. Next week, a new series will start.
