Charity Begins Where?

You may have noticed that there has been a big flurry of activity online recently about comments Vice President J D Vance made about the prioritisation of compassion for those nearest to us. He goes on to claim that those 'a lot of the far left' - which appears to mean to the Trump administration anyone more moderate than them - have inverted the principle. He claims the 'far left' hate their own and prioritize people from other nations. 

Now clearly that is a piece of political rhetoric, aiming to justify a principle to move more and more to an "America first" policy stance, and to justify ever more stringent action on undocumented people within the USA. What was different with Vance, compared to Trump, is that he attempted a theological justification of his policies.

He drew on the notion of ordo amoris (order of love) from St Augustine to explain and justify the order of priorities he espouses. This notion of ordo amoris is present in City of God Book XV where the ordering of love is related to sin and morality. The love of the wrong things is equivalenced to sin. For example in describing the earthly (for that read fallen and sinful) city Augustine writes:

"And this is the characteristic of the earthly city, that it worships God or gods who may aid it in reigning victoriously and peacefully on earth not through love of doing good, but through lust of rule." (Book XV.7)"

Of course, this has its roots in Scripture, where the love of money is described as the root of all evil (1 Timothy 6:10) and God's law for right living is summarised by Jesus as loving God and loving neighbour (Luke 10:25-28). Orderly love has God and neighbour as its primary focus and disorderly love is devoted to mammon (Matthew. 6:24).

This still begs the question as to whether some people merit love more than others. St Thomas Aquinas explored these question in his Summa Theologica (also knows as Summa Theologiae). Aquinas isn't an easy read, but he explores theological issues by posing and addressing a series of questions. In Summa Theologica Book 2, part 2, question 26 he explores questions which ask should you love A more than B with a series of candidates for A & B.

Aquinas suggests that it is reasonable to have an ordering of priority:

"We must, therefore, say that, even as regards the affection we ought to love one neighbour more than another. The reason is that, since the principle of love is God, and the person who loves, it must needs be that the affection of love increases in proportion to the nearness to one or the other of those principles. For as we stated above, wherever we find a principle, order depends on relation to that principle." (ST II.II.Q26.Article 6)

Aquinas argues that 'greater affection' for those closest to us is an inevitable consequence of everyday life - and is also moral. However, we must note that he doesn't say that it follows that there should be no 'affection' for those who are distant. So whilst a first impression suggests Aquinas is supporting Vance's position, there is a sting in the tail for the Vice-president. If his treatment of the stranger, the alien, the refugee and the migrant is devoid of 'affection' then it ethically falls short, according to Aquinas.

Likewise in Scripture, whilst the love within the family and good neighbourliness within a community are clearly encouraged, there is also a strong strand of teaching pointing to others - respect for the alien, hospitality to all, and care of the vulnerable. For example, widows and orphans get highlighted (e.g. Malachi 3:5, James 1:27). In the teachings of Jesus, we encounter the need to love our enemies and pray for our persecutors (Matthew 5:44)

But what about neighbours? In Luke, immediately after Jesus summarises the law as loving God and loving neighbour, he is asked who should be seen as a neighbour (Luke 10:29). Jesus responds by telling the parable we know as the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37).

For context, we should note that in New Testament time, the relationship between Jews and Samaritans was not good. We know from John's gospel (John 4:9) that a Samaritan woman was astonished that Jesus - a Jew - would ask her for a drink, share a vessel and receive hospitality from her. In Luke 17:11-19, when Jesus heals ten lepers, only one returns to thank him, and Jesus hold him up as a good example. However, he refers to him as a "foreigner" (Luke 17:18) indicating that he was perceived by the community as somehow 'other'.

Taking this into the parable, the Good Samaritan is often read as a story of one person being kind to a man who has been attacked and robbed, when others weren't. Sometimes a point is made about religious hypocrisy, as it is a priest and a Levite who walk by before the Samaritan arrives. What is sometimes missed is how controversial it would have been to make the Samaritan the good guy. Clearly the conclusion Jesus wants the questioner in Luke 10:29 to arrive it is that the Samaritan is the neighbour, and this would have been hard to swallow. We can see it in the closure of the parable, as Jesus asks who was the neighbour in the story (10:36). The response he gets is "the one who showed him mercy" (10:37). It strongly suggests that the man couldn't bring himself to say "the Samaritan". 

What we can be clear about in that story is that Christians can't support a definition of neighbour that is narrow, confined to a small locality, or to an ethnicity or faith allegiance. It is the nature of human relationships that we can't feel the same level of concern for everyone in a universal way that we feel for people who are close to us. However, I think the Scriptures leave us no choice but to see that we have a duty of care to all our neighbours - whether they are close at hand or far away, whether they are citizens of our country or far from their home.

Over the years I have met quite a few people who have said to me "charity begins at home". In a number of situations, I wondered whether home is where it stopped; in a few cases I even wondered whether it even made it to their home. We may well learn charity (Aquinas' affection or the Bible's agape) at home, but the right thing to do is to learn from that specific situation and apply it to our attitudes and understanding of all people.

Jesus on Money and Possessions

Jesus: Money and Possessions

I have always found it a little bit difficult to say exactly when I became a Christian. There is no atheist phase of my life to report, but I know there was a short period in my life when I moved from going along to things by default to actively choosing to follow Jesus. Christ Church, Chilwell, my home parish, was a large and lively church with a big children’s work, and I had gone along with friends since about the age of 7. It was around the age of 14 or 15 that it moved from something I just did to something more. For me faith came before very much actual churchgoing, and it was the person of Jesus that captured my attention.

For a lot of people, the compelling aspects of Jesus’ story are in the tragedy and triumph of his passion, or in the compassion he shows to those in need of forgiveness, healing or deliverance from evil. Of course, those weren’t (and aren’t) unimportant to me, but they weren’t the hook that caught me.

I was attracted by the way that Jesus had a radically different set of values. He rejected materialism and greed, and he undermined those who misused and abused power. He championed the poor and was a constant reminder to the ‘haves’ about their responsibilities for the ‘have nots’. I have, of course, consistently failed to live up to his teachings on all of these questions, and yet that aspect of Jesus’ teaching continues to excite me and challenge me. He questions my spending, my saving, my giving, my consuming, my possessing and my attitude to the environment and the world around me. This aspect of Jesus has also been where I have derived some of my political instincts from (although others might arrive at different conclusions!)

It has never felt like Jesus is finger-pointing and condemning me, but he is always asking me what it means to be a Christian living in a world that is based on a very different set of ideals. How do I live in a world that is based on getting, consuming and never being content with what you have.

I want to take a look at few parts of Jesus’ story that have provided that challenge.

It was a revelation to me when I found out that Jesus had a lot more to say about money, wealth and possessions than he ever did about sex. The Gospels are littered with sayings, parables and conversations which are either directly about money and possessions, or use financial or economic images and ideas. It’s been estimated that about 1/3 of the teaching in Luke’s Gospel could be regarded in that way.

So, let’s go on a little tour of Luke to see what he records:

Setting the Scene

Even before Jesus is born, Mary is singing about the rich: “he has filled the hungry with good things and the rich he sent away empty.”  (Lk 1:53), which gives us a preview of what priorities and values are going to be the hallmark of this child’s life.

Once Jesus begins his ministry, he is challenged immediately in his temptation by the devil about his priorities (Luke 4:5-8) “if you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” Jesus rejects earthly power, wealth and status to be faithful to his calling. And when he gets to the synagogue, he makes it clear: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor..” (Luke 4:18) which is something he reiterates a little further on in the Beatitudes: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of  God.” (Luke 6:20). Jesus is already generating disapproval for what he is saying – he’s rejected in Nazareth, and when he calls a tax-collector to follow him, the Pharisees are grumbling (Luke 5:30).

So we can see that in Jesus’ early statements and actions, he is pointing to a new set of priorities.

Some examples of his teaching

1. The parable of the Rich Fool (Luke 12:13-21)

OK. So you do well in this world, pile up your possessions and feel proud of yourself. Then what? In this passage, God calls a rich man who builds bigger barns a fool, as his stockpile will be worth nothing to him when he dies.

Jesus goes on to say that we should not be anxious about our material needs (12:22-31), but store up treasure in heaven (Luke 12:32-34) - in other words sharing the Gospel and putting his teaching into practise. As he says in a verse that sums up much of what we find in the rest of Luke's gospel, “for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

2. Money is like a rival God. (Luke 16:13)

When people talk about idols, they sometimes mean statues in temples. More often in our own culture, people are being referred to – ‘pop idol’ and ‘fashion icon’ are both examples of a religious word being used to describe someone in the public eye.

Of course, in the world we live in, virtually everything seems to be decided by money and many people see the acquisition of money as their only purpose in life. Election promises are usually couched in how much better-off we will be - meaning financially, not well-being or contentment. 

In contrast, Jesus is clear that the idol we should really be concerned about is in our pocket. This is summed up in Luke 16:13, where Jesus says “You cannot serve God and money”. It’s worth noting that the word “money” in many English translations of the Bible is actually a translation of the word “mammon” in the original.  It is thought that this actually means material possessions and wealth. Jesus asks his followers to choose which will be their master (Lord, kyrios) – God or wealth.

3) Jesus Wants To Set People Free From Mammon

It may seem a contradiction, but in a world so sold out to money, many people wish they could escape. Some have a hankering to leave what used to be called the rat race and do something else; some wish they could just drop out, whilst others want to find a way of being content. The problem is that people who don't know God have nothing else to trust but material possessions, yet Mammon is not a kind master.

Luke shows us examples of how people respond to the choice Jesus presents us with - whether God or Mammon will be their master.

First, the rich young man (Luke 18:18-30). He obviously has a hunger for something else. “good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”. He is clearly very devout and religious, even by the standards of his day – keeping the commandments. But when Jesus asks him to sell all he has, give it to the poor and follow him, he couldn't let go of his possessions. Although it offered treasure in heaven and the freedom of knowing Jesus, he turned away, sad. Mammon had too tight a grip.

We can contrast this with the encounter Jesus has with Zacchaeus (Lk 19:1-10). He’s not just any old tax-collector, he’s a chief tax-collector. Tax collectors had a reputation for extortion. They took the money the Romans demanded, and also took a cut for themselves. John the Baptist hints at that back in chapter 3 when tax collectors come to be baptised. “Teacher, what shall we do?” And he said to them “Collect no more than you are authorised to do.” (Luke 3:12-13). Here, Jesus breaks into Zacchaeus’ life by inviting himself round. He accepts his hospitality and takes him seriously. The greedy tax-collector sees a new chance in Jesus, and his attitude to money (mammon) is transformed.

Finally, the story of the poor widow's offering (Lk 21:1-4). It’s important to remember, this woman would almost certainly have already given her tithe. This is a freewill offering. But the point is that out of her devotion and commitment to God, she freely gives all she has. Jesus points to the value of that, over and above those who can comfortably give much bigger sums, without making the same personal sacrifice. He can see that she has not chosen Mammon.

Out of all the gospels, Luke particularly highlights these issues. Following Jesus is not just a theoretical exercise, or just about whether we turn up for certain religious rituals. It’s about a change of priorities. The Bible is clear that we are stewards, not owners of this world. We are accountable for how we use the resources at our disposal. We have received much from our generous God, and that comes to fruition when it inspires us to generosity too.

 

Parables Are Fiction

OK - I deliberately put it that way in a recent sermon to get people's attention. We have been looking at parables recently, which are often misunderstood - especially when the parable itself is expressed in a way that was designed to be provocative. So it is worthwhile reviewing what a parable actually is:

1. They are fiction, or perhaps less provocatively, they are a construct. When Jesus tells a parable, he isn’t reporting an event; he is telling a story. The characters and situations he describes may well have rung very true with his listeners – as they do today. People may recognise the type of person he’s depicting, but the form of parable we have is a construct. 
2. Jesus uses items and situations that are familiar to his audience – agriculture, keeping flocks, family disputes, a mugging. He features characters such as tax collectors, shepherds and farmers – to convey his point. He may well be drawing on actual events and encounters (what good author doesn't?), but the parable as delivered is not intended to be received as a report.
3. We have little or no back story, and we don't find out what happened next. We are not told whether the jealous brother joined the party at the end of the Prodigal Son account, because the parable is designed to leave the hearer with questions to reflect on.
4. Parables are not intended to be taken literally –  financial debt is used as a way of picturing forgiveness of sins, for example.
5. They often have a sting in the tail designed to leave the audience with something to think about: The parable of the good Samaritan ends with a question as to which person showed the true qualities of a neighbour. Jesus asks this fully aware of the hostility and suspicion between Jews and Samaritans, which is reported elsewhere. It forces a reply “…the one who showed him kindness” which suggests that even saying "the Samaritan" was a bit too much for the respondent. Likewise in the Parable of the Talents, we want to be with the underdog, but it's the man with 1 talent who gets the hard time! It forces us to ask questions as to what is going on and what does it mean.
6. Parables are reported as being delivered in a specific context (although Jesus probably reused material numerous times as he travelled around). There is sometimes a question that leads in, such as who is my neighbour? Sometimes Jesus has an audience in mind, such as the elite turning up their noses at him spending time with people seen as sinners and outcasts.

With all parables, Jesus is not directly reporting an actual event; he is inviting us to imagine a situation, be challenged by it, and let it evoke a response. It is a much more creative method of teaching than we sometimes appreciate, and parables are designed to leave us with more thinking and imagining to do. The real question is how does the telling and hearing of them change us - that is what they were designed for.

The Parable of the Rich fool (Luke 12:13-21)

The following is an edited down version of the section in my MA dissertation on this week's reading from Luke's gospel. I had forgotten what I had written, and it was quite helpful as I began to think towards Sunday. I thought I would post a shorter and more readable version here, in case anyone found it useful.

The Rich fool (Luke 12:13-21).

¹³Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” ¹⁴ But he said to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” ¹⁵ And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” ¹⁶ Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. ¹⁷ And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ ¹⁸ Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. ¹⁹ And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ ²⁰ But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ ²¹ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.” (NRSV)

The parable is introduced with an exchange between Jesus and a man in the crowd who is in dispute with his brother, concerning their inheritance. Jesus declines to intervene, phrasing his answer to echo the story of Moses’ intervention in the fight between two Hebrews. In the Exodus story, one of the men asks Moses, “who made you a prince and a judge over us?” (Ex. 2:14); in this text, Jesus asks the man “who made me a judge or divider over you?” (12:14b)  Rather than issue a direct judgment, Jesus answers in the form of a parable, framed by two sayings, which furnish some further interpretation. A parallel to the core of the parable is also to be found in the apocryphal Gospel of Thomas (log. 63), which may suggest it was in circulation in the early church, separate from the interpretive sayings in verses 15 & 21.

The term ‘rich’ in Luke has a negative connotation, which conflicts with the society within which the Gospel is set, where wealth was a sign of blessing, and a consequence of belonging to the inner elite of the community. Here a rich man is depicted as being fortunate enough to enjoy a bumper harvest (12:16). He asks, “What shall I do” (v.17), which in Luke’s gospel is a question of salvation. His choice is to multiply his wealth by building bigger barns to store his wealth, and to rest in his complacency, which has echoes in wisdom literature (e.g. Psalm 49 & Sirach 11:14-28).

God’s response is to describe him as a “fool” (12:20). Foolishness is comprehensively defined in Proverbs (e.g. Pr. 10:18, 10:23, 11:29, 12:15, 12:16, 13:16, 14:3), and in the Psalms it is the fool that denies the existence of God. (Psalm 14:1). The rich man sees his wealth as his security and not his God, and in doing so effectively denies his existence. Furthermore, he only makes provision for himself; no-one else is mentioned.

But in Luke, it is not simply that the man has a lot of money or assets; it is that in his context being rich would have carried with it power, responsibility and even a basis for assuming piety in the one who has been 'blessed' by wealth. The parable targets these assumptions and contradicts them. This man abdicates his responsibilities and fails to use his power to improve the lot of others. He even lacks the one remaining virtue of possessing a piety, albeit one which finds no expression in action.

Introducing the parable, Jesus states that abundance of possessions are not the means to measure the value of a human life (12:15) A valuation of life, based on possessions, inevitably results in the pursuit of material gain as the goal of life. 

In the same way, the core story of the parable is rounded off with the saying about being rich towards God (v. 21). In the wider context of chapter 12, we can understand this to refer to generosity. A little further on, Jesus' command is simple, “sell your possessions and give alms” (v.33) and they must pursue “treasure in heaven”. This is concluded by the summary challenge “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (v.34)

The overarching message of this section is clearly the folly of lives that have material and financial gain as their goal. This pursuit is, of course, vulnerable to disaster, since these treasures are easily lost, stolen or destroyed. Furthermore, they eat away at the commitment of the disciple. Seeking the kingdom (v.31) becomes less of a priority as concern for material well-being grows. It may be that this was becoming a concern within the Christian community that Luke was seeking to address, and so it was a priority for him to include material from the communal recollections about Jesus that directly tackled the issue.

Jesus and the man with demons.

Today's Gospel reading was the strange and disconcerting story of the man described as troubled with a legion of demons in Luke 8:26-39. It prompted me to look again at the work that Debbie had put in towards writing a life of Jesus in the form of a novel - done during her illness. As she put it, she wanted to get away from "men in tea-towels" saying "yea, verily" to genuine characters - inspired by how Hilary Mantel had depicted Thomas Cromwell in Wolf Hall.

As something different, in place of a sermon, I read out this section from what she had written. It was slightly strange reading her words to a congregation that had never known her, but I got some appreciative feedback, and it made a change from a conventional sermon.

You will spot that she weaves in another story from a different part of Luke's gospel.

Yeshua gathered himself and strode on ahead, unflinching.

In a matter of minutes, dusk had turned to darkness. Only the stars and half a moon lit the path in front of them now, a path which was taking them up the incline ahead of them towards the sound of the gulls’ shrieks and the murmuring of grazing animals. This was not the sound of sheep or goats, however. A vast herd of pigs was roaming free at the top of the incline. Some of them had wandered down among the caves and tombs which, Yeshua’s companions now realised, were round about them on every side. The swine were short, stocky, dark; they ran quickly and grunted as if about to charge their unexpected visitors. But in fact, they kept their distance.

Yeshua was again reciting Scriptures as he walked ahead; they clung to his voice as though to a lamp for their path, a light to their feet.

 

“I was revealed to those who did not ask for me;

I was found by those who did not seek me.

A people who sit among the graves

And spend their nights keeping secret vigil.

Who eat the flesh of pigs

Whose pots hold broth of impure meat.

I will not destroy them all;

I will bring forth descendants from Jacob,

And from Judah chosen people who will possess my mountains.”   (Isaiah 65)

 

As the sound of the Scriptures drew the others together, it also beamed like a torchlight through the graveyard, and it was not long before it flushed out the one Yeshua knew he had come to meet. From somewhere to the left – almost as if from deep underground – a wailing began. Then a high pitched crying, like a little girl; a man’s deep laughter; a noise of animals far more disturbing than the noise of the pigs. They braced themselves to be set upon by some sort of savage army. But in the end, it was just one man who threw himself into Yeshua’s path.

He was, indeed, a man, though at first sight he looked more like some terrible wounded beast. He was completely naked, his body a patchwork of cuts and scars where he had harmed himself with broken pots and stones. Remnants of chains hung on his wrists and ankles. His hair, like a Nazarite, had not been cut for who knows how long; thick, matted, it fell down his back in knots and tangles. He barely looked capable of emitting even one small voice, yet the whole cacophony of sound was coming from his mouth.

“What do you want with me, Yeshua, Son of the Most High God? Don’t torture me, I beg you!”

“Tell me who you are.”

 

Mary and the others, having shrunk back in fear, huddled closer together.

 

“Tell me who you are,” Yeshua repeated.

The man reached forward, clung to Yeshua’s robe, and opened his mouth. What came out of him was clearly like torture.

“Our name is Legion!”

“Legion!”

“Legion!”

“Legion!”

“Because we are many!”

“Don’t throw us out of him, Yeshua! Don’t let us die!” it was the little girl now, pleading. “You wouldn’t let us die!”

“Just keep us from the Abyss, that is all we ask,” sobbed the weeping man. “Give us somewhere new to go, Son of the Mighty One!”

 

The man’s whole body shook as the voices ripped through him.

 

Then the laughing man’s voice started, a chuckle at first, rising to a hysterical pitch of howling and snorting. Across the graveyard, the pigs began to echo him.

“Let us go into the pigs! Please Yeshua! They love us, listen to them!”

And now his chest was heaving as voice after voice joined in.

“To the pigs! Let us go to the pigs, oh please let us!”

 

Yeshua stood absolutely still, listening intently, fixed on hearing from his Father’s Spirit what he should do next. When he opened his mouth, it was again the words of Scripture, this time of the Prophet Jeremiah, which issued forth. He spoke directly to the possessed man with such compassion, it was as if no one else in the world existed.

 

“‘In that day,’ declares the Lord Almighty,
    ‘I will break the yoke off their necks
and will tear off their bonds;
    no longer will foreigners enslave them.
⁹ Instead, they will serve the Lord their God
    and David their king,
    whom I will raise up for them.

¹⁰ “‘So do not be afraid, Jacob my servant;
    do not be dismayed, Israel,’
declares the Lord.
‘I will surely save you out of a distant place,
    your descendants from the land of their exile.

Jacob will again have peace and security,

    and no one will make him afraid.
¹¹ I am with you and will save you,’
    declares the Lord.   (Jeremiah 30)

Immediately, the voices were silenced, and the man’s breathing slowed to a deep calm. Yeshua, now fully in control, straightened his back and addressed himself to the presences whom it was now time to release.

“Legion! Listen to me. You may enter the pigs, on condition that you leave this man and never return to him again. If you do, then you will not be spared the torments of the abyss. Do you understand me?”

Excited muttering. The little girl spoke for them all.  “We understand!”

“Then Be Released! Leave Him Now!”

None of those whom Yeshua had taken as companions that night would ever forget what they saw.

For Mary, of course, the presence of demons had a personal significance she would have done anything to forget. She was fighting back the memories of the night Yeshua saved her life, the night she almost died at the hands of her neighbours. Where had her demons gone, she wondered? No herd of pigs to take them away, and yet they had never troubled her again. Please God, please God, that this new Legion would not sense in her an open door. She wrapped her arms around herself and prayed.

Simon Peter, James and John had all witnessed the casting out of demons – not least in their own Synagogue, on the Sabbath when Yeshua had so enraged Jairus by releasing a young boy from whatever it was that had possessed him. But none of them had seen anything like this.

The man, unconscious but breathing, rolled on to his back and began to twitch. Every few seconds, his chest heaved and fell abruptly; and immediately after each seizure, the noise of a pig squealing carved through the night air. From out of the caves they came, one by one, shrieking and running and bucking their way back up the hill to the herd who were grazing above them. And it went on and on. How many presences came out of him?  Fifty? Sixty? At the very least. How had he survived it?

As the stampede through the graveyard went on, they became aware of voices above them, startled at first, and increasingly mounting in panic. The swineherds, settling down to doze as usual through the night shift, had been rudely awakened. Terrified pigs were running wild through the rest of the herd, kicking and biting as their bodies were taken over by who knows what. The herdsman were running for cover now, back down the hill towards Yeshua and the man from whose frail body the whole cacophony had been released. And, as they deserted their charges, with no one left to protect them, the pigs ran towards the edge of the cliff and over its sharp side into the lake. It was hard to say which was worse, the screaming, or the silence. Not a pig was left. Together, they had rushed headlong to their fate.

“What have you done?” shouted one of them at Yeshua. “Why have you let them go out of him? He held them all safe. But now . . .”

They kept on running down the path, five of them, heading towards the village.

Gradually, the silence became less terrifying. Mary unfroze herself, checking that nothing seemed to have entered or harmed her. All seemed well. The men too, who had crouched tightly together during the erupting storm, began to relax. It was James who moved first. Kneeling beside the naked man, he took off his own outer garment, lifted him gently under the shoulders and wrapped him in it. Thaddeus was next, kerchief and water bottle in hand, shakily cleaning his face with infinite gentleness and care. Yeshua sat and watched them. Eventually, the man began to stir, and his eyes opened. He looked at them as one who had been asleep for years.

“Greetings, friend” said Yeshua at last. “Do you know where you are?”

“Does he even know who he is?” Simon muttered to John. “What’s your name, son?”

It had clearly been a long time since anyone had answered.

 “Adin. My name is Adin.”

“You’re a Jew, Adin, am I right? Do you remember how you came to be here?”

Adin nodded. He looked close to tears.

“Can you tell us your story?”

He took a drink from Thaddeus’ bottle, and collected himself.

“I have been such a fool. Such a fool.

I grew up with my father and brother. I never knew my mother, she died in bringing me to birth, and my father was so grief stricken he never took another wife. It might have made him hate me, but far from it, it made me a favourite in his eyes. Not easy for Dan. My older brother.  We farmed the land just outside Tiberius. Good place; fertile, ready market in the city. It was a good life. But not enough for me.

All Dan wanted was to take on the farm from my father. Married a local girl, settled down on the estate, never expected that I would want anything different. But did I! I was desperate to get out, to see something of the world, to create my own chances, my own story. So when I came of age, I asked to see my father. I knew the farm had done well, would continue to do well. And I asked him to divide his wealth between Dan and me, to let me leave and see if I could make my own way, my own life in the city.

I could see it was a blow to him. But he didn’t try to persuade me out of it. He listened, and he nodded, and later that day, he gave me an enormous sack of gold. Far more than I expected. Then he blessed me, and told me I was free to go. He simply asked that I would come back when my fortune was made, and make him proud of me, as he had always been proud of me.

But I’m afraid I did little to make him proud.

Tiberias, Herod’s new city, was the first place I headed for. But I fell in with a crowd who persuaded me that Gerasa was the place where fortunes were to be made. Fabulous city of Roman culture, Greek philosophy. And eclectic! Even a Jew could make a fresh start there. At least, a Jew with a sackful of gold. But while ever those coins filled my pockets, I saw no need to work. How could my father have trusted such a fool! By the time I saw disaster on the horizon, it was too late to avert it.

When at last I began to look for employment, no one wanted to know. Turns out I’d made a reputation for myself as something of an idiot, though while the cash was still flowing, no one bothered to tell me that.

In the end, this was the only place I found any shelter.  Working with the swine herds. A Jewish boy feeding pigs! They loved that alright. Every day, it felt as though a little more of my soul was being hollowed out. And then, well . . .”

He stopped. Drank some water. Stared into space, as though he’d forgotten that there was anyone with him.

Mary prompted him gently.

“And that’s when the voices began?”

He nodded, his eyes still fixed straight ahead. She nodded too.

 

They were silent for a long time. At last, Adin shook his head, as one who was finally waking up from a long and tortuous nightmare. He looked long and hard at Yeshua.

“Who are you?” he said.

 

When the swineherds found them later, they were even more shaken to see Adin not only clothed and calm, but talking in his own voice, lost for so long, with the strange visitors who had upended their world so completely. Their leader lost no time in making his feelings clear.

“You’ve taken away our livelihood tonight. By morning the stench of pigs will fill the bay, and you’ll be fair game for anyone who goes in pursuit of you. And you talk to demons and command them! If you are still anywhere to be found on these beaches, the whole lot of you will be stoned. So do you hear me? Take Adin with you, and get out of here now. While you still can.”

Adin’s face lit up as he looked into Yeshua’s.

“May I come with you, Rabbi? May I be your disciple? I would follow you till the end of my days. For I was dead, but you have made me alive. I was lost, but you have found me.”

Yeshua smiled. “No, Adin. You have something much, much more important you need to do. You need to go home to the father who has never stopped longing for you and never stopped waiting for you since the day you left him. You need to go and present yourself as his servant, your head covered in ashes, your heart filled with remorse at the hurt you have done to him. You need to go and face Dan’s anger and judgment. And then, you need to start again.”

Adin looked up, tears streaming down his face.

“Come with us to the boat now. We’ll drop you off at the cove where the bay meets the road to Tiberias.”

Mary cut his wild hair with a fisherman’s knife as James and John took the oars between them. The others made sure he was decently clothed and clean, and Mary made him a pouch with enough money to buy him breakfast for his journey. “Not enough gold to tempt you in there!” she smiled. “Just enough to stop you fainting before you reach your father’s house.”

The fishermen were used to navigating by starlight. As the cove at the end of the road to Tiberias began to shimmer into view, Yeshua noticed that Adin had begun to shiver.

“Nervous?”

“What if he doesn’t want to see me, Yeshua? What if he sends me away?”

“Sends you away? A good father send his exiled child away? I don’t think so. My Father in heaven is rejoicing over your return now. And so will your earthly one.”

They pulled the boat up the sand, embraced him, and watched him walk up the beach until he disappeared on to the road.

Text (c) Debbie Peatman 2015