My Search for Redemption

I was having a rough time this morning. I had it almost set in concrete that I was going to do something. Something I knew was wrong. I asked God for help because I knew I didn’t have the strength myself to resist such a strong temptation. And then, by some chance, looking for something very different, I found the 40-minute video below. I encourage you to watch it. Now, the moment has passed, and I’m free to take on the next challenge.

Not that I’m looking forward to one, but one will not be long in coming. I’m not proud of myself. I didn’t do anything except ask for and be open to help. I don’t hate myself anymore. I accept the challenge. I have to.

While writing my post for Easter, I lost interest. I moved Part One back to draft status and ceased work on Part Two.

I’ve been having a difficult time keeping focus and faith. I’m sure you know how that goes. We all do.

But what happened is that in trying to find my strength, I realized how weak and small I really am. I couldn’t do it without help. In the past, all the things I did were useless. My effort to reach out to survivors with hope were tainted by my own frame of mind. Was I really doing something good? I don’t know. I wrote that if I had low stats as far as views, it didn’t matter, so long as something I wrote helped someone. Even if I never got to know if I helped. But the thing that bothers me is, I was always in the picture. It’s been about my life, this memoir of mine, but I got carried away. Lost my way.

Then, I realized how lost I had been since the beginning. Mental illness is a tough affliction, and much of the time, I was failing to get how sick I’ve really been or notice how it affected my work. My anger and indignation show in every line I have written. I offer no excuse, and I’m aware that most of my followers don’t bother anymore. I know this because getting one or two views a day or less is normal. I’m not reaching anyone anymore.

But that’s okay. I understand. I’ve posted some good stuff and some awful stuff. My dream of being a writer goes no further than this blog. The “cursed novel” will never be read. I will destroy it because I have known for a long time that it felt wrong to me, whether it was good or not. It felt blasphemous to me. That same conviction haunts my work here. Without reminding followers or mentioning to new readers that mental illness figures prominently in my everyday life, I often turned people off. And, while I’ve never felt that I had the right to take a pass because of mental illness, it does affect what I write because it’s part of who I am.

Maybe it’s not my fault that abuse shaped who I was. But that doesn’t mean I get a pass now. Being aware of problems means we have to fight them, right?

Well, my words have done far more harm than good, and I’m sorry about that. It’s not why I write. I ask you for your forgiveness if anything here on this site caused you pain. I have no excuse. Words hurt.

At the end of March, my health care worker notified me by text that I had an appointment. The next day. That’s cool. It’s telehealth anyway, so no stress. But the next day, I didn’t get the usual text for a link. I called the office, and it wasn’t supposed to be for that day; the appointment was the next day. I texted my worker that it was the wrong information. She apologized profusely, apparently unaware that I’ve never cared about little things like that. I texted, “I’m gonna get you back for this. Little early for April Fools Day, innit? When you least expect it, expect it.”

She wrote back,”Why be evil? I’m under a lot of pressure and words hurt…”

I sprang the trap: “Got ya! Hahahaha!”

A couple of minutes passed. She sent a smiley face. I had to remind her to lighten up. She’s overworked and underpaid for such a good and caring person in that job. She’s rare. The next day, she started her vacation. Haven’t seen her since. I hope she comes back, but if not, I’ll know why. A vacation is often difficult when the last day is up. Hours pass like minutes. A tired body isn’t ready yet, and the mind can’t handle jumping back into the pressure cooker.

But I had to try to get her to loosen up. She had never called me “evil”  before. I was kidding, and she didn’t catch on, despite knowing me better than that. The lesson I learned was to watch every single word, written or spoken, that comes from me. To never have anything that could be taken as having a different meaning come from me.

Words can do great damage. I don’t know how many I may have hurt in my posts, but I am sorry.

The choice is always mine. I admit I enjoyed being critical of Taylor Swift, but even though the media is mostly the prime perpetrator in her attention, she does revel in it, and a person cannot serve two masters: God and fame. Her claim to be a Christian falls flat with me.

So does my own claim. I’m taking that problem on right now, every day, with the courage and determination that can only be strengthened by God. In my quest to regain honor, I forgot about him, and in so doing, lost my way completely. The answer to overcoming anything was always God. In writing Part Two of my Easter posts, I was hit hard when writing about Christ seeing and being punished for every sin I had ever committed. The full meaning hit me like a train. God knew before I was even born every single word I’d say, every evil thought I’d have, every bad thing I would ever do. Hecknew how I would use my freedom of choice. But he loved me so much that his one and only son was sent to be sentenced and executed in my place. And yours.

I felt deep shame. For the very first time in my life, I knew what it meant to repent. It’s important that I tell you it’s nothing that I thought it was.

It doesn’t mean asking for forgiveness. It doesn’t mean that if I did that, I could sin again and repeat my prayer.

It means that God doesn’t tolerate or forgive me of a sin I have no intention of stopping. My apologies were not accepted. They were useless words.

Redemption can only come when I decide to face, not avoid, the shame that comes with sinning. I have to face the sting of that shame and truly, honestly, fight temptation and not have the desire to commit a sin again because that’s not okay. To hate the act, to really mean it when I pray for forgiveness, that is when it will be forgiven. That’s when God can help me. I will ask for help and get it. Because I’ll honestly want that help.

I’m in that battle with myself and the devil now. This is a fight I can’t avoid. I can’t throw the towel in either; I have no desire to ever see Hell. I want to be with God. Because I know the things he’s done for me, and I love him for that and more.

I search and thirst for redemption, for without it, there is no honor.

Only Hell.

The First Easter part 1

Even atheists know how Yeshua of Nazareth was executed by Rome. Let’s talk about the parts most people get wrong, including scholars.

In his language, his name was Yeshua, a name very like “Joshua,” and we get “Jesus” from the ancient Latin translation.

All of  what we know about him comes from the canonical gospels; in other words, the accounts of the New Testament in the books of Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John.

While they do differ, I consider all to be as accurate as possible. Even if you dwell on when they were written and dispute their accuracy based on that alone, remember that the first Christians were hunted and persecuted. The Apostles all died as martyrs in all likelihood, but not before writing and telling the story to others. Therefore, I have always believed them.

It’s important to first understand that the Messiah was spoken and written of by the prophets of the Old Testament. For example, Isaiah chapter 53 says something extraordinary:

KJV

“53 Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?

For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.

He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.

He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.

And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.

10 Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.

11 He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities.”

Eerily accurate

This chapter describes a suffering Messiah. The Jews usually took it as such until well after the Christian doctrine included it.

Isaiah also predicted that the Messiah would come as an infant born of a “clean” woman. In other words, a virgin.

And this happened. Only one gospel describes the event, but it happened. There may be other accounts not yet discovered, which also give the story of Mary and Joseph, but what we have so far aligns with the prophecy.

And so we have Yeshua of Nazareth. He recruits 12 apostles, and for an unknown time (about three years), they travel on foot, teaching and learning while their master heals the crippled and the blind, and lepers. The stories of his deeds and his moving words of mercy and hope spread rapidly. Crowds gathered to hear him speak of forgiveness and the love of God for his children.

He often told stories to illustrate what he meant. One favorite is the story of the prodigal son: a father had two sons. One day, one of them said, “Give me that portion of my inheritance now,” and the father did. As time passed, the son lost all of his money on pleasures of the flesh, and he was soon broke. He tried to find work, but he was treated badly. Finally he though that even his father’s slaves were treated with kindness. So he went off to find home and ask to be a slave. But his father saw him coming and noticed his shabby, Wan appearance, and his heart was filled with pity. The son who had wasted the money never had to ask for scraps or employment. His father wept for joy that his son was returned, and told the servants to clothe him, put a ring on his finger, and to kill the fatted calf in order to celebrate his son’s return with a feast.

Meanwhile, the son who had remained with his father returned from the day’s work and found out the reason for all the gaiety. He was upset and said, “You’re giving a feast for him after he squandered what you gave him, the fatted calf for celebration, yet you’ve never even given me a kid to celebrate with my friends!”

The father explained, “You are my son, and you have always been with me. All that I have is yours. But your brother was lost, and now he is found! He has come back home!”

Jesus tried to tell us that we had (and have) wandered too far from the lighted path God set for us, and should we wish to return, we will be welcomed and forgiven.

The Ministry of the Nazarene held much to think about, and many believed in him. But the growing crowds and the stories of casting out demons, and even worse, raising the dead, and feeding a large crowd with some fish and bread, well, this was all getting back to the high priest in the temple at Jerusalem. To the mind of Caiaphas, this Yeshua was really causing trouble. Late in the ministry of Jesus, the high priest was alarmed, shaken and paranoid that his absolute rule over the religious requirements of the law would be questioned. And paranoid men act accordingly.

On what we call Palm Sunday, Jesus came to the city riding an ass, or what we call, a donkey. This fulfilled a prophecy.

That day began what’s known as the week of the Passion. It would end with the execution of Jesus.

It didn’t help much that Jerusalem was crowded with the faithful who came to celebrate the Passover and the greedy merchants who would prey on them. This was the worst possible time for what happened next. Jesus saw the temple courtyard crammed with money changers who converted foreign coins to what was acceptable. They took in a handsome profit in the exchange. He also saw something worse. Merchants who sold doves and sheep for the sacrificial offerings to be burned on the altars who also profited because once inside, the priests decided which animals were pure enough. If there were blemishes or other visible signs of imperfections, those animals were refused. This caused the worshipper to need a new animal for sacrifice for the atonement of sins. Most couldn’t afford another purchase and believed that they would be stricken by God as punishment. This fear, more like a terror, could absolutely ruin anyone. Their hearts were in the right place, but they had been lied to. The fear alone often kept someone in line, and if that didn’t, then fear of the Romans did.

Rome had moved in to capture Judea around 65-60 BCE, and it was Herod “the Great” who was an Edomite but tied to the royalty of his mother, who was perhaps of Arabic descent from Petra. When he was friends with Mark Antony, then his foe Octavian, who, after the Battle of Actium, would become Caesar Augustus, Herod enjoyed a puppet reign as a king of Galilee Judea, which was a Nationalist political territory, which meant that surely they would have fought a war against Rome, but Herod was a buffer. He cleared the sacred temple mount and either expanded or completely rebuilt the great temple, which went a long way to get the Jews to keep the peace.

However, a war did take place. The animosity of the Jews would never leave them.

But it was not all bad.

The temple was a source of joy to the people, connecting them to God in faith and in practice.

But the people nonetheless hated the Romans and Herod as well, who was seen as a traitor and an evil man. All of this led directly to the actions Jesus took in the temple courtyard when he saw that it was full of profiteers who were anything but believers. He threw the tables of the money changers and loan sharks over, then went after the merchants who sold the sacrificial animals. He threw open their cages and scattered them. Then, in front of an astonished crowd, he shouted, “It is written, My house shall be called a house of prayer, but ye hath made it a den of thieves!”

It angered as much as saddened him to see all of this. But it also angered Caiaphas and the priests. Jesus, if there had been any doubt, would now be viewed as a direct threat to their absolute power. He had an unknown but large number of followers, which was even more troubling. The priests all knew that he had to be dealt with.

While still in the city, they tested him in public. Posed with facing the true laws, if they asked the right questions of him, he would surely corner himself, exposing his fraud. A woman said to have been caught in the act of adultery was thrown to the ground in front of him. Already terrified and humiliated, she did not raise her head. “Master, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. According to our laws, she should be stoned to death. What do you say?”

Jesus replied, “You are correct. That is the law. He among you who is without sin, let him cast the first stone.”

All of the mob had stones in their hands, but not one of them threw one. They had instead put themselves in a corner. Bewildered, they dropped their stones and walked away. It was utterly humiliating. When they were gone, the woman, who had not looked up, was still weeping and waiting for the first heavy stone. Jesus asked, “Woman, where are those who condemned you?”

She finally, fearfully, looked up. She was amazed to see that stones littered the sand, and those who had held them were gone. “There is no one,” she said. Jesus said gently, “Then neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.”

As the Son of God, he had the authority to forgive her. As a gentle man, he pitied her and, though aware of her sin, chose to be merciful and loving. This was his nature as both God and man, sent to become flesh to tell the truth, to heal, to renew the broken.

By mid week, he had taught in the temple, and still stories of his deeds filtered into the city. There was one about Jesus raising a man from the dead after several days of being entombed.

It was rapidly getting out of hand. A blind man was given sight. One of the twelve Apostles, Judas Iscariot, possibly meaning “Judas, the man from Kerioth”, or “Judas from the city,” wasn’t a true believer. He had been frightened by how much attention Jesus was getting, but it’s also possible that he was a zealot, a member of a group of radicals who sought to overthrow Roman rule. One had approached Jesus and tried to persuade him to strike the Romans. Jesus tried to tell him that he wasn’t going to be doing that, which turned the zealots against him. Judas would take it from there. He conspired to betray Jesus to the temple guards in exchange for 30 silver coins: the price of a slave.

Once this arrest was made, Simon Peter awoke in Gethsemane and cut the ear off one of the guards. Jesus said, “No, Peter! All who take up the sword shall die by the sword!”

It had already been a night in which Peter and the others were confused by the Master’s words and actions. Before even arriving in Jerusalem, Jesus had told them, “…there, the Son of Man will be betrayed, arrested, and raised up.”

Earlier at the Passover meal, Jesus had confused them further. He said the bread he broke was his body, broken for them.

That was puzzling because the expression “raised up” meant “to be crucified.” But of the wine he said, “This is the cup of the New Covenant. A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another. As I have loved you, so love one another. By this, people will know that you are mine. Drink, for this is my blood, shed for you. This do, (eat and drink) in remembrance of me.”

Later, in Gethsemane, Jesus had awakened Peter, John, and James and warned them to be vigilant. Jesus was extremely agitated. In the light of their torches, it was clear that he was sweating blood, a real condition caused by extreme agitation and fear.

When the guards showed up and Judas kissed him, it was over. There was no going back.

Before loyal (the members of the Sanhedrin who had expressed interest in Jesus and who did not consider him a threat were excluded), members of the Sanhedrin convicted Jesus of blasphemy and false teaching, leading the people astray. He was sent to the Prefect Pontius Pilate. We now know that he was not a “procurator” because of archeological evidence found in Caesaria, which indicated he was a “prefectvs,” or prefect, of Judea.

Pilate’s wife, who remains anonymous, sent him a scrap of papyrus on which she had written a warning not to have anything to do with Jesus, for she had dreamt of him and suffered greatly.

On finding that Jesus was from Galilee, Pilate saw his way to rid himself of the prisoner. He ordered that Jesus be sent to Herod for trial. It should have worked. It didn’t.

It was proper to send Jesus to Herod Antipas, as Rome preferred that criminals be tried in their native land. And as it happens, Herod was in Jerusalem at the time. Nazareth was in the tetrarchy zone of Galilee. It could be argued that he was from Bethlehem, but he was born there, and his mother did not live there. As far as we know, he grew up in Nazareth.

Herod was the son of Herod the Great and likely as crazy as a bag of rabid cats. None of his history points to his being of sound mind. He probably spent much time besotted or watching his wife, Herodius’s daughter, whom history has named “Salome.” He lusted after the younger woman. He had lusted after Herodius as well, marrying her while her husband was still alive. This was an abomination according to Jewish law.

It was Salome who, in exchange for an exotic dance, asked for the head of “the Baptist,” referring to John the Baptist, a loud critic of the unholy marriage. But the death of that prisoner had, according to scholars, haunted the tetrarch. As years passed, he ran afoul of Caligula after being good friends for a while, but that story makes little sense; everyone ran afoul of Caligula.

When Jesus was brought before him, he was complimented that Pilate had deferred to him. But what he wanted was to see a miracle that this Jesus was so renowned for.

He got nothing but silence. Angered, he sent Jesus back to Pilate. And here Pilate made his first mistake of the day: he should’ve released Jesus because the tetrarch of Galilee had merely sent him back with bruises and a purple robe. Instead, he put him on trial. When the courtyard began to fill with spectators obviously manipulated by Caiaphas, Pilate began to get nervous. He knew what they wanted.

He was about to make his second mistake of the day. He hated the Jews, hated this dirty, arid land and hated the fact that he should be at a higher post.

He was a cruel man, as many Romans were. Rome demanded discipline among its captured provinces, and civil unrest was not tolerated. Much earlier, after Spartacus and his army were put down, it was inevitable that survivors who had caused so much trouble would be severely punished. While the body of Spartacus was never found, 6,000 of his routed troops were crucified beside the road between Capua and Rome. Since Rome used this form of execution as the powerful deterrent that it was, the bodies were, as custom dictated, left to rot. Crucifixion had come to be the slave’s death, but political dissidents and thieves were also executed in this way. The custom was to strip the prisoner nude, nail him to the cross, and leave him to the insects, carrion birds, and the harsh elements. Rome was efficient and ruthless, and there was no reason for regrets. That would change with the execution of Jesus of Nazareth.

End Part One