Holidays
Prologue
As Christmas time approaches, I have fancied myself upon a tradition of reading the classic, A Christmas Carol by Charles Dicken. This story is about a main character, Ebenezer Scrooge, a very rich miser who will forgo the immediate comforts of life, to reduce any and all expenses, fulfilling the proverb, How much is enough? One more dollar than I currently have.
This story also impresses upon me a Christian influence, and I adore the opening, which very vividly explains that Jacob Marley, Scrooge’s life-long business partner, had died. The details of his death are not known, but the assurance of his passing is pronounced. The story begins seven years after the death of Jacob. Seven, being a symbolic number in Christianity, as I see Dickens portraying a seven year cycle of completeness.
As I have read A Christmas Carol through the years, I began to see other symbolisms and parallelism to Jesus and Christianity, the love of God, and His redemption. Mind, Charles wrote this story in symbolisms, it reminds us of no matter how evil someone is, nor for how long one has been bad, there is always hope. When the Lord gets ahold of someone, even the fiercest of men, can have a change of heart, completely turning 180 degrees from their malicious ways.
For this parody, I took several parts from the Christmas Carol to make the short story parody. As I wrote this, I began to consider things presented in the four Gospels, I had not seen or thought about. I must warn, this story is not to replace the Gospels, nor the classic of Charles Dickens, but is a reminder we can see the hand of God anywhere.
Part I – Jesus’ Death on the Cross
Jesus hung dead on the cross: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. Most people would not have survived the after effects of the scourging, yet this motionless body hung lifeless on the cross. The collapse and pressure on the lungs from the weight was enough to finish anyone. The last proof Jesus was dead occurred when the Roman soldier pierced his side, spewing forth blood and water. Yes, Jesus was dead. There is no doubt whatever about that.
His body was placed in a fresh sepulcher and a stone was rolled in front of the entrance. The news of his death was received by the chief priests, Pharisees, his followers, and the Romans. Pontius Pilate gave the order to have the tomb sealed, and placed a centurion, Roman’s elite guard, to watch over the tomb. Jesus was as dead as the nails piercing his hands and feet.
Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard the nails piercing His hands as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile of dead as a door nail; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb the fact, the Romans brutally knew how to take the life out of a person. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Jesus was as dead as the nails piercing his hands and feet.
The chief priests knew he was dead? Pilate knew he was dead? The centurion knew he was dead? Of course they did. How could it be otherwise? Even his followers left shocked, that Jesus, the Great Rabbi, the Promised Messiah, did not come down off the cross, by some miracle, did not survive and take the kingship away from the Romans. He was to be their king, to rescue them, to end the oppression, ruling Israel forever and ever. Mary Magdalene, one of his main followers was cut up by the sad event, and began gathering spices and oils for the preparation of a dead body.
The mention of the spices and oils for Jesus’ body brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt, that Jesus was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet’s Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, than any other gentlemen rashly turning out at dark. Likewise, we are perfectly convinced Jesus’ battered body laid dead in the tomb.
For three days and three nights, the body laid silent. How else does a dead body lay? Yet, in the world of the living, life continued on. The centurion guards, continued watching over the tomb, switching shifts, in their well-trained orderly fashion. The chief priests continued on with their celebration of the seven day feast of Passover and began their preparations for the Feast of First fruits.
The followers of this dead body, and the one who would follower their leader to death? He lit out as the first opportunity presented itself, back to his hometown, back to his profession, what he knew. Idly spending time in a boat waiting for the fish to come wandering into his nets. The others? Why they hid, afraid for their lives, would they too end up with the same gruesome fate? Would they be next? Had they believed a lie, which this person was to rule all of Israel, and they would be at his side?
When confronted with fear and disappointment, the mind can create such lavish reasoning and disorganize what appeared factual at the time, but is now fading with ever analogous thought. For three years they believed, followed, experienced. They were there, witnessed it all, and their blessed leader was dead. He was not victorious over his foes like their great renown ancestors of Abraham, Moses, David, Elijah, Josiah, Hezekiah and the recent Judas Maccabeus. This man was defeated, right before their very eyes. What had convinced them to follow, to believe, and now they too were in peril of a similar fate? And the shame, oh the shame, the ridicule from the ones they left behind, what would be said as they returned?
Once upon a time – of all the good days of the year, on the morning of Feast of Firstfruits – the Centurion guard stood composed near the tomb. It was a normal Jerusalem morning, the spring fog hovered over the city as the first light of the morn began to shine forth, breaking the darkness of the night. Occasional sounds from the city could be heard from the noises of feet upon the pavement stones. It had been a solemn three days.
The keepers took their melancholy breakfast in their usual melancholy way, and was thinking about the events that occurred over the past three days: the darkness, the earthquake, the marveling words from the soldiers in charge of crucifixion. “Truly this was the Son of God.” The centurions were well trained, battle tested, had spit in the face of death. These soldiers were fierce, well armored, they feared little. And now, the soldiers stood watch in a graveyard, where the dead disturb no one, tell no secrets. The morning was usual, the centurion had become familiar with his surroundings, and he now knew every stone. The fog so hung about the gateways of the city, that it seemed as if the Genius of the Weather sat in mournful meditation on the threshold.
Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the graveyard, except that this stone was very large. It is also a fact, that the keepers of the tomb were not afraid of much if anything – which is a bold word. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that these guards, began to fear, when the earth shook that morning, when the sealed stone began to roll away from the entrance without its undergoing any intermediate process of change – there was no one to move the stone in the doorway of the tomb. Not any one, but something was there.
His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow. It was not in impenetrable shadow as the other objects in the yard were, but had a bright light about it. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at the keepers: with ghostly appearance sat on top of the stone. They stood perfectly motionless. That, and its livid color, made it horrible; but the horror seemed to be in spite of their reasoning and beyond their control, rather than a part of their own expression.
To say that they were not startled, or that their blood was not conscious of a terrible sensation to which it had been a stranger from infancy, would be untrue. The brightness of this being on top of the stone brought darkness to their eyes, as they fell lifeless from the scene that unfolded.
Mary, who had previous gathered up oils, and another lady named Mary came up to the scene, their color changed though, when, without a pause, they looked upon the open entrance from the rolled away stone and saw the brightness of the being on top. Upon their viewing, this angelic being gave the usual starting statement as has been rehearsed many times through the ages with other encounters with humans, “Fear not.”
No, they could hardly believe it, even now. Though the being looked angelic through and through, and was before them, they felt the chilling influence of its holiness; as it spoke to them. “For I know that you seek Jesus, which was crucified.”
“He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.”
Not so much in obedience, as in surprise and fear: for on the raising of the hand, they became sensible of the confusion in the air; of the incoherent scene. But Mary stood outside the sepulcher weeping: and as she wept, she stooped down, and followed inside the tomb: desperate in their curiosity. They looked in and entered. They could hardly believe it, even now. The body was not there!
Their eyes marked the very texture of the folded napkin and the linen clothes laying by themselves. They were still incredulous, and fought against their senses, at the appearance of two angels, one at the head and another at the location where the feet would have been. Where the body of Jesus had been lain. Each second passed as if an eternity, then the angel spoke again:
“And go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead; and, behold, he goes before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him: lo, I have told you.”
The idea being an alarming one, Mary scrambled, teary eyed, turned her way to the entrance when she saw Him, but thinking he was the grounds keeper continued weeping. Jesus, as customary in Jewish studies, did not proclaim who he was to her, but instead asked two simple questions. Allowing the mind to break from the histrionic scene, which allowed some reason to come to Mary’s mind.
“Woman, why do you weep? Who do you seek?” The voice was soft and gentle. Singularly low, as if instead of being so close beside her, it were at a distance.
Unknowingly, she answered, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”
But the O so familiar voice, a voice lost in the turmoil of the past three days, a voice feared lost forever, resounded in her ears. She had heard it, but in awe, her mind would not allow the comprehension, until she heard that O so familiar word. A word commonly spoken to her many times a day throughout her lifetime in all the colors of emotions. A familiar sound, which touches the individual senses, gives the importance of identity and self-awareness.
“Mary.”
The mind, not fully absorbing, fully grasping the truth of the event of her surroundings. The sayings of the angels, the mind’s fast recall of the things Jesus has told her. All truth became reality as her eyes and ears finally saw and understood through the veil of tears and darkness of misfortune and doubt.
“Master!?!”
Perhaps, Mary could not have told anybody why, if anybody could have asked her; but she had a special desire to grasps the unexplainable; and the emotion raged inside, begging to touch what the mind could not comprehend. But before the impulse of confused joy could be realized, the risen Savior forbade.
“Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God.“
The chief priests were obliged to ritual cleansing of their dressing-gown before they could commence with the customary ceremonies, yet could see very little then. All they could make out was, that it was still very early, and that there was the normal noise of people moving to and fro, and making a great stir, as there unquestionably would have been if night had beaten off bright day, and taken possession of the world. This was a great relief, because “three days ago after the sight of the death of the blasphemer and Pilate made his order,” and so forth, would have become a mere blink in the security of their religious decrees, as if there were no days to count by.
The chief priests reverently disclaimed all intention to offend or any knowledge of having willfully bonneted the Spirit at any period of their life. They then made bold to continue what business brought them here, when a disturbance was made known to them. The keepers of the tomb returned inside the city, and told the chief priests of what had been done.
It would have been in vain for the priests to plead that the weather and the hour were not adapted to their purposes; but they made toward the soldiers aghast of their sayings. Assembling together the elders, they debated among themselves the best measures to take for their continuing services. As they had devised methods to take Jesus into custody, they were now devising ways to ignore, and finally put the Jewish rebel down once and for all.
As they had paid Judas to betray Jesus, and have him arrested, they fell back on their earlier scheme, and paid the soldiers to betray what they had seen and heard, saying, “Say you, His disciples came by night and stole him away while we slept.”
The seemingly honorable soldiers balked at the notion and the endangering of their own reputation, yet the chief priests persuaded, “And if this come to the governor’s ears, we will persuade him, and secure you.”
Part II – The Past
They walked along the road to Emmaus, and they mourned together all the things that happened. These boys were in low spirits, and cried to each other, until the broad fields even looked so gloomy that the crisps in the air dimmed down to hear their sad encounter. Jesus himself drew near, and went with them. Taking the same approach as He had done with Mary, asked, “What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad?”
It had been no quiet matter, the happenings in Jerusalem over the past few days. The boys were astonished this man before them did not know. Jesus asked his second question, “What things?” They retold their past experiences and the adoration they had for their Leader. How their Leader should have redeemed all of Israel, and when their brethren went into the sepulcher, they had found the body had disappeared.
After three years of lecturing and demonstrating, what does a teacher do, after he has taught and his students had not understood? A crash course, back to the beginning. And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, He expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things concerning Himself, but they still did not understand who they were talking to. Psychologists express a weird phenomenon of those who have lost loved one, the loved ones come back in a ghost form. They recognize the ghost, but as Jesus taught them, they did not recognize Him. These pupils, unknowingly, were taking part in one of the greatest classroom lectures for all time. Also in their unknowing, they were dismissing the claim of seeing a figment of their imagination.
When Jesus sat and ate with them, he broke bread and gave it to them. Having been with this man for several hours, learning the scriptures a second time, it was not until Jesus used His unique manner of breaking bread that opened their eyes, and then, at that precise moment, all reason, logic, blindness vanished with the setting of the sun. Their eyes were now opened, and they knew Him! Upon their realization, Jesus disappeared, an in startled amazement, they leapt up and headed back to inform the other eleven that they had been with the risen Jesus!
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