Being a disciple was pretty tough in
those early days. You had to be made of stern stuff.
Oh,
I don’t mean the early, early days, way back in the days of being with Jesus –
the days of all the guys eating corn on the Sabbath or seeing the miracles, listening
to his amazing sermons and stories, being involved with massive catches of
fish. They were days of interrupting weddings by totally solving the catering disaster.
They were days of interrupting a walk through a village by giving eyesight to a
man born blind. And they were days of interrupting funerals by cancelling them.
They must have been amazing days!
Okay,
it can’t have been easy when it all went horribly mulberry-shaped but you still
had the memories of the dozens of men, women and children who had been
miraculously healed, the extraordinary confrontations with the religious
authorities and the incredible hours of teaching and laughter and fellowship
and fun and care and personal friendship and closeness and honesty and
encouragement.
No,
there must have been something really special about those days. I wasn’t around
then. I didn’t get involved until all the disciples got bladdered at breakfast
(or so it was said at that time). You know the one I mean, the morning at
Pentecost when Big P stood up and preached his marvellous talk.
There
were a lot of us joined up at that time – three thousand plus, someone guessed.
I’m
sorry. It wasn’t really a case of ‘joining up’. It was a spiritual thing, to be
honest. I was convinced in my mind and in my heart that Jesus of Nazareth was
the Messiah sent from God and that he had died on the cross in my place, and
had been raised from the dead by the power of God.
I
could be sure everything the Messiah said was true, and I knew God was pleased
with him.
So,
I became a disciple. Yes, part of the early church.
As
I said, it was tough being a disciple in those days. No Jesus to be impressed
with or encouraged by, since he’d already ascended into heaven. But on the
other hand, he’d sent the promised Holy Spirit, who provided power and courage
to be a follower of The Way (no-one called us ‘Christians’ for a while), which
was great since we really needed him. Really needed him.
You
see, the first thing that happened to us when we became disciples was that our
families despised us, disowned us or declared we were dead, which was no fun.
Then our synagogues chucked us out (or refused to have anything to do with us –
this became known as being sent to
Kadesh-Barnea). Finally, the PA (the Pharisee Authorities) set Saul the
Destroyer on us. You were in serious trouble if that bloke got his claws on
you, I can tell you! I lost a lot of friends in the first weeks of the Purge.
Zach,
Lizzie, Hal, Maria, Gloria & Uma, Ezzie, Manny and Liz and their three
little children – all were put to the sword. It was terrible.
At
about the same time, there were two dozen chaps thrown into the prison in
Damascus, and they were chained up, awaiting implementation of their sentences.
My
husband Mel been found guilty of ‘blasphemous preaching, preaching without an
official permit and behaving in a manner likely to cause a breach of the
peace.’ I was so proud of him for his boldness for the sake of the Lord Jesus!
But the big cheese was on his way to oversee the executions.
I
was genuinely frightened, and the prisoners were on the edge of losing their
nerve. They weren’t about to deny the Lord, but they were in fear for their own
lives and for the well-being of their wives and children.
S
the D was a nasty piece of work. He was a law-loving Pharisee, committed to
what he called The Letter, and filled with a passionate hatred for anyone who
made any messianic claims. He didn’t seem to realise that perhaps someone, one
day, would be telling the truth. No, to him, everyone was a heretic and
deserved punishment, along with everyone else who had been drawn in. Nasty, as
I say.
I
shouldn’t have been surprised, I suppose, but I have to admit that I was
flabbergasted when God miraculously intervened!
Apparently,
S the D fell off his horse somewhere along the journey, and heard a voice from
heaven. He was blinded by the light; God told him not to persecute Jesus
anymore and his companions had to lead him away. He turned up in Straight
Street, where Brother Ananias prayed for him to be healed (boom!), and started him
on a New Believers’ Course. There was serious rejoicing at the time. Well, at
first. The news that the Destroyer was giving up his campaign was brilliant! It
was no longer dangerous to admit you were a follower, and we could get on with
spreading the word.
Unfortunately,
this short spell of celebration was followed by a longer period of panic when
the rumour went round that S the D was claiming to be a WayFollower himself,
now.
This
was too much to believe all at once, and folks assumed he must have hoodwinked
some people (perhaps Brother Ananias was among them), putting it all on and
lulling them into a false sense of security. His real intention, they reckoned,
was to infiltrate the church, uncover followers of Jesus and then throw off his
disguise and reveal himself in his full horribleness.
A
sort of double-agent.
Awesome
Powers, International Man of Mystery, kind of thing. Double-oh Saul, licensed
to kill.
But
as it turned out, thank the Lord, Saul the Destroyer had become Paul the
Preaching Pastor. All our menfolk released from prison, the charges were
dropped and the Damascus Followers Fellowship was soon established. I never
actually met PPP, because he was always on the move, and I was on holiday when
he visited DFF later the same year.
I’d
wanted to talk to him. I think it would have been a positive meeting, despite
my sad memories of all those dead friends. I suppose we’ve all come to terms
with the reality that he’s being an important influence over every follower of
Jesus.
I
wonder how influential he’ll become as time goes by? Perhaps he’ll fade and
we’ll all stand on our own two feet.
Or
maybe we can go on leaning on him and what he teaches for a few more years yet.
He always said he was a man committed to The Letter, but now he’s a man who’s
committed to sending a Letter or two to the churches he’s helped to establish.
God
has a marvellous way of working things out, doesn’t he?
Salvation, Pentecost and 2999
others in the crowd
Do you think it was easier to be a disciple of Jesus
in New Testament times, or now? Please define ‘easier’.
Why didn’t the early church go ‘underground’
to avoid the Purge? If you were accused of being a Christian,
would the charge stick? Is there any evidence?
How did Saul the Destroyer become Paul the Preaching Pastor?
Has anything similar happened to you?
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