Meek and mild or passionate and wild by Kirsty Gill

24 February 2021  { Historical Fiction }


Meek and MIld

Meek and mild? Well that was certainly not my experience of the man. He caused quite a scene in the temple forecourts that day.

 

It was the week of the Passover and the usual charlatans were setting up their stalls to fleece us. The authorities had a monopoly. We had to change our every day money into the currency of the Temple in order to buy whatever sacrifices we could afford. Of course they charged us extortionate interest rates but we had no choice – if we wanted to buy an animal to sacrifice we had to use their currency. So they had us over a barrel.

Most of my friends and I could not afford to buy a lamb or a goat. We could only afford a dove. The temple authorities were also in charge of which animals could and could not be sold as well as the currency which was used to pay for them. They were complete despots. Sometimes they would allow us to purchase an animal and then they would examine it and decide that it was not quite pure enough for sacrifice – it might have the smallest of blemishes, but that would rule it out. So we had wasted our money and would be forced to buy another animal or if we could not afford it, go without bringing a sacrifice to the altar, thus allowing ourselves to be mocked for our poverty.

 

This guy, Jesus, the itinerant preacher, he was having none of it. He was full of indignant rage at the behaviour of the unscrupulous stall-holders and the moneylenders who were prepared to lend us money at extortionate interest rates if we could not afford to buy an animal outright. My sister, Joanna, is still paying off the debt she got into last year at Passover. We could see the fury in his face as Jesus made a whip out of some rope which had been left lying about. I think it had been used to tether a donkey. He forcibly turned over the tables of the money-lenders. There was a terrible racket as coins flew everywhere. Then he frightened the stallholders by cracking his whip so loudly that they fled in fear without stopping to bring their animals with them.

 

Following the sound of the coins rolling onto the floor, the cries of the stallholders and the cracking of the whip, could be heard the flapping of the wings of the doves as they escaped their cages and flew to freedom.

 

“My Father’s house has become a den of iniquity”, Jesus said. We could have told him that but we were glad that he could see it for himself and that he was on our side – the side of the poor that is. Respect to the man. There is no pulling the wool over his eyes and he has no time for hypocrisy.

 

We have been waiting for a Messiah for some time. We were hoping for a leader who would help us overthrow the Romans. We have been living under their authority for too long. Some say this Jesus is the awaited Messiah – he is certainly not what we expected. He seems to be a humble man yet he has a quiet air of authority. He rode into Jerusalem for the Passover on Sunday on a simple donkey while Pontius Pilate made a much grander military entrance by another gate.

 

Of course Jesus's reputation proceeds him. We have heard rumours of miracles he has performed. Well, not just rumours actually. My sister, Joanna, the one who is still paying off her debts from last Passover, well she had been suffering for years with, well you know, women’s problems – she never seemed to stop bleeding. She had tried everything. She had bathed in the Jordan and the pool at Siloam, she had tried all manner of herbal remedies, she had fasted and prayed but nothing seemed to help her with this debilitating and embarrassing problem. She was shunned  because of it, my poor dear sister.  Then last year she heard that Jesus was to pass through her village so she picked up the courage to brazen it out and follow the crowd to try to get near him. It was heaving. She could not get near enough to speak to Jesus but she touched the hem of his cloak and hey presto! – the bleeding stopped! Jesus turned and asked who had touched his cloak. She looked him straight in the eyes and told him that it was she who had done so. Joanna said she had never seen anyone look at her before with such tenderness.

 

So there is something about this Jesus. Many say he is full of compassion. Some say he is meek and mild. That is not what I saw that day.  The man I saw in the temple forecourts was full of passion for the poor and rage against the misuse of the Temple. Talk about drama! I shall never forget that day nor shall I forget how my own dear sister, Joanna has been healed and can now walk with us all once again, head held high, no longer hiding herself because of what was considered her shameful affliction.  That day it was the unscrupulous that were made to feel ashamed because of their own actions  - not my sister who had suffered through no fault of her own!  It gave me hope.  Perhaps there is justice in the world after all

24th February 2021

 

 


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