The atmosphere has changed. Doubters are silenced. Everyone is full of cheer and hope, waiting for the next appearance, waiting for the Spirit, waiting with complete expectation that everything which had been promised is coming true.
The kingdom comes.
Thirty five days have passed since Jesus came out of that tomb, thirty five of the most wonderful, exciting, and confusing days of your life. All has changed, only there was not yet a real beginning. You are still told to wait, basically to do nothing.
You love the times of prayer, the sharing with the others, seeing Jesus at irregular moments, hearing again his words of wisdom and peace, feeling the power of his presence, wanting to rest in that power forever.
And yet, and yet… you are feeling antsy. You miss your work. You miss being busy. You miss your family and friends. Everything has changed, but nothing has really started. You wait for the word, for the call to action which has not come. You wait to help usher in the kingdom.
Even with this, the nervousness of it all still weighs on your soul. The Romans are quite powerful. It would take a miracle to overthrow them, to rid this holy land of their insulting presence.
You haven’t even been to the Temple in a couple of weeks because of the insults and derision from the others there. How can you fight Rome if you don’t even have the courage to stand up to jeers from your own people? Jesus talked about power. That is what you need. The waiting does get to you, letting your thoughts run wild.
Every evening the followers of Jesus gather for prayer. There are too many to fit into one room, and so the large estate of Nicodemus is filled with various groups, organized not by class or position, only by time of arrival. The times of prayer are wonderful, washing away the fears and doubts, helping you wait, helping you find peace.
Sometimes Jesus prays with you, he appears and joins in, just as if he too were waiting.
Today is the Sabbath. There are more than enough men to establish a synagogue, and Joseph’s copy of the Scriptures means a regular service can be performed. John reads, his voice soft and strong at the same time. There is a fire in his eyes, like he could explode at any moment, his fingers tap the side of the table while he stands and reads, his leg bounces when he sits, energy unfocused being released.
The singing is long and wonderful, no longer do we sing the psalms of doubt and pain. There is victory, and we celebrate with David the victory of the Lord.
At the end of the service, near the time when the final prayers are offered, there is a stir in the back of the room.
You can’t believe who you see there. James. Not John’s brother. James, the brother of Jesus.
He is standing there, looking unsure of himself, and everyone else is unsure of him.
James is a Nazirite, a holy man, who spends most of his time in the Temple. Not once, not even once that you know of has he acknowledged the followers of his brother, and you heard he has not even talked with his brother for years. Their falling out was a result of Jesus’ ministry. James did not believe. He is the last person you would have expected to be here. From what you heard his words to Jesus were very harsh and very condemning.
He was not at the trial, did not see the beating, had made no acknowledgement of what happened. The rejection of Jesus was total, to the point he refused any relationship, broke off all ties, severed bonds. Jesus had died in his mind two years before.
His long hair was bound behind him, he wore a simple brown cloak.
“James,” Peter says, acknowledging the man’s presence.
James looks at Peter, nods, still looking confused.
“May I say a word,” he asks.
“Of course,” James, John’s brother replies.
His head down, not looking at any other, he walks to the front. Stands for a moment, his lips moving in a silent prayer.
“Forgive me,” he says.“Forgive me, for I am a sinner. I have sinned against God, for I have not believed what was right before my eyes.”
He pauses, looks up at everyone.
“You are correct in all you preach,” he continues. “Jesus is alive, he is the one who was promised. I wish to join with you, and learn what it is he taught, all that I missed in my shame.”
“What has happened, James,” Peter asks. “Why are you here?”
“I have seen him. Jesus visited last night. We talked all night. I… I was so very wrong, and he showed me who he really is. I believe it now, it all is true.”
Philip asks, “What did he say?”
“He told me to come here, to learn about his ministry, to learn what he has taught about the Scriptures. He told me to come and lead his people here in Jerusalem. I have much to learn.”
You are shocked, never would you have thought James would be one of those who believed. It was impossible. But here he is, standing, humbled, not just a part, commissioned to lead what he once despised. Truly God still works miracles.
“Welcome, James,” Peter says. “We are finishing up the service. Will you pray for us, for wisdom, for patience?”
“It would be my honor to pray with you, with the people of God who know the Truth.”
He prays, long and passionate, his words taking on a quality of heaven itself. In his voice, his way of speaking, his accent, you hear the voice of Jesus himself. They truly are brothers.
Jesus has called his own. God is at work in powerful, wonderful ways.
Lord Jesus Christ you are mighty and powerful, saving those who are strong and weak, rich and poor, mighty and humble. You pursue us with a passion, drawing us close to you, filling us with hope and light. It is your work which brings change, and it is wonderful. May I not lose hope in your salvation, may I not despair over the actions of others or the ignorance of those I love. You are drawing all people to you, and I am privileged to join in with your joyous work. Help me pray with patience and endurance, never losing faith in your passion to save sinful humanity.
Lift me up and come near to me.