1

Where We All Come From

Jesus.

What do we think of that name when we say it, scream it, or moan it?

It’s a name I’m sure we’ve all heard at one time or another. Whether some of us put much meaning into it or not, this name always seems to come up. I know that at one time, for myself, whenever I heard that name it felt like something old and distant. It was like this prehistoric figure who once was rumored to roam the land, never to be seen or heard from again.

At times imagery would pop into my head when I heard this name, which made it even harder to truly take in all that it meant. Sometimes I felt as if I were a little kid sitting around a campfire, eagerly leaning in as the elders would share stories passed down to them, “Yep, that Jesus fellow was somethin’ else, He was! That bear stood anywhere between 10 and 15 feet tall! But Jesus didn’t back down, no, sir! He stood His ground and gave that bear a good whacking upside his head! Ya better believe that bear went a-runnin’!”

Well, okay, maybe the images weren’t that farfetched. Perhaps it was more like memories from childhood, where I was made to sit on hardwood church pews, shifting from one side to the other to allow blood to flow to my lower extremities. Then, at times, I’d have to pull my dress back down into place which had hiked up from all of the shifting, which would cause my pew-sticking skin to create audible screeching noises to be heard clear down the church rows. I’d usually look over in embarrassment to my sisters to see that they were doing practically the same thing, with an added whine and rolling of the eyes in “preaching-recipient” agony.

We were at church service, and there was no escape, we realized, but we were told we were supposed to be there, so we were. It still wasn’t fun, not service sermons, anyway, but Sunday school was another story. We could handle the classes and actually tended to enjoy more of the one-on-one explanations instead of this mass address to an audience. I know I often wondered why the kids couldn’t just end out their day with Sunday school and let the adults have their advanced classes in this more college-like forum.

But, nope.

We had to have our Sunday school, plus this hour of practicing to sit still — only to stand up when you saw everyone else do so. Not to mention bowing our heads in prayer, only to peek around to see if everyone was really closing their eyes when they tipped their heads forward and folded their hands. For the record, most people just seemed to be looking down at their laps or shoes. I could see the whites of their eyes at times, and that just doesn’t happen if you truly have your eyes closed.

But, then, suddenly and mysteriously among all of the discomfort and spying, the pastor would heighten his voice in parts of his sentence to emphasize a name that would suddenly draw my eyes forward, “Jesus said . . . blah, blah, blah,” only to lower his voice into something not memorable by a child.

So I’d heard the name Jesus before. I thought I knew where His place was in a book, too. The one that was written over, uh... well... a long time ago, called the Bible. Most people seem to be at least aware of the existence of the Bible, and I’m guessing that if they know it exists, they have at least opened it once or twice.

I admit that I’m not too savvy on the Bible, myself, but I did read a good deal of it some time ago. So bits and pieces of it have stuck in my head about the main points and ideas, I suppose. It seems to ring of “Be good, and don’t let the darkness change you.” But, of course, there’s more to it than that, I realize. But to say that I have truly mastered the full details of the Bible would be far from the truth.

So, if someone thinks they can come up and out — quote me, you bet! But there’s something to be said for where my heart is (It’s just my head that can’t always keep up with the quotes and reading and such.).

But back to Jesus: Who was, or is, this man, and where does He fit within our society? This is something I’ve often wondered.

I knew the general setting of the Bible: really ancient, lots of sand, with men and women walking around in big airy robes and sandals. There were kings, queens, empires, and lots of wars with hands-on battles with swords and rocks. Back in those days, people paid high taxes, and the amount of land you owned measured your wealth among your neighbors.

Scratch that last part, since those concepts have never changed.

But today things have changed quite a bit in considering this physical world. In today’s playground, there are paved roads, dance clubs, televisions, cars, high schools, airplanes, technical gizmos, movies, and robotic pet dogs! These are just a few added distractions in this day and age to make it harder for the modern human to place how people in the Bible went about their daily lives. I doubt that many of us could even fathom having to wash our clothes by hand in our sinks, let alone go down to a river or well to beat our clothes with a rock. Envisioning those days of old is difficult enough, now try to manifest in your mind that God’s Son Incarnate once traversed that very soil so long ago.

I’m trying to hold the thought, myself, and I think I have a decently assumed visual in my mind, since I have seen enough “Life of Jesus” specials on television. But to truly understand the whole concept of Jesus and what His life and sacrifice is about, can be a struggle to absorb.

I knew that a man by that name, claiming to be the Son of God, existed at one time. So for me it was pretty much historical fact, but I didn’t know where He fit in with what I was doing today and if He was at all concerned with all of the atrocities which are going on in the world.

So, I suppose to quiet my own lack of answers where Jesus fit in, I just kept it out of my mind. I figured that if I didn’t place judgment on it, how could I be for or against it? He had existed; I knew that, He performed miracles; I accepted that, and you had to say your prayers in His Name to get your point across to God.

Well, I knew all that, but this stuff was more memorized than personal. It was like there was more “head” stuff involved than “heart” when it came to Jesus.

For me, God was easy to know. I knew there was some higher being who started this whole earthen mystery. I feel that we are all born with this feeling that something or someone is missing in our lives, and we spend a great deal of our lifetime trying to find that missing piece. It’s as if we came here with the distinct knowledge that part of our heart lies elsewhere and we need to reconnect to that “something else” to feel whole again. So we go where others are looking for that same missing piece — and it usually is in a worshiping place of one faith or another — and we try to piece the mystery together for ourselves. Someone, a long time ago, gave me a name for this pretty natural thing I personally felt and sought, and the name “God” stuck with me for the most part.

Now there goes another powerful name for you: God.

His is the very name we shout when we are in our most dire need, next to Jesus’ name. Even if you didn’t have faith before in Him, suddenly it’s the first thing out of your mouth when you’re in trouble. Isn’t that something?

I always thought that was one of the world’s greatest mysteries. Here you have the rottenest of the rotten, sitting on death row, and suddenly he or she finds God. Surprisingly, now I understand more of that mystery...(continued in Chapter 1)