Thousands of us were crowded almost atop each other along the green hillside over looking the blue green waters of Lake Kinneret. The Rabbi Yeshua, the miracle worker, the prophet, was teaching us. He stood on a boat out on the water just off of the shore. There was a hush over the multitude as we listened to his every word. I didn't really understand how we could all hear him so clearly, but his voice was strong and deep; his words seem to ride the wind with a spirit of their own. Most of those near the shore were men, but there were a few women had managed to find there way to the water's edge. I know that it is wrong to envy, but I envied them. Shoshanah, Yochanah, Miryam, Shlomit and Shimon Bar Yonah's wife and mother-in-law were among Rabbi Yeshua's inner circle. They often followed him in his travels to minister to other towns in the Galil and Y'hudah. My sisters, Devorah and Miryam, and I, Rivkah, were fortunate to have traveled from our village to Capernaum in hopes to hear the Rabbi, for Devorah to be healed of her blindness, for me to find hope. We were pressed in upon each other, and though the day was mild, we were sweating from the extra warmth of so many people. I could feel my brother Yosef's steamy breath upon my neck.
Poor Yosef, my oldest brother, was responsible for the care of Devorah, his own family of six and now, me and my daughters Dinah and Avigayil. My husband Sha'ul, now no longer my husband, had given me a writ of divorce one year ago and sent me out of our home with my two young daughter's, who stayed behind today with Yoseph's wife Rachel and their children. I had to leave my two sons, Binyamin and Ya'akov with their father. I still can't think of them without tearing up. My arms ache to hug them and my eyes long to see them. I was a faithful wife, a good wife and mother. Sha'ul and I were still passionate and happy, or so I thought. One day, Sha'ul had returned home early from his trip to Damascus; he was a merchant. I had been collecting eggs from the hens, and he surprised me. I dropped the basket and broke a couple of eggs. It's happened on occasion in the past; they're eggs--a stumble hear or a slip there and they break. He smiled at me, kissed me, then turned and left. Two hours later he returned with the writ of divorcement. His reason was that I had broken the eggs, which is wasteful, and he no longer wanted a careless, wasteful wife. A month later, I was replaced by his new wife Rut. I sought justice, but I was told that Moses commanded that a man give his wife a writ of divorce and put her away. Why would HaShem have Moses command such a thing? Now here I am to find some answers and maybe some justice from Rabbi Yeshua.
"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy...." the Rabbi taught.
His words touched me for I was mourning, still, the loss of my husband, my sons and my life. I did thirst for righteousness and truth, but I had not considered mercy, though my brother had shown it to me.
"...You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt should lose it's flavor, how shall it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything,except to be thrown out and trampled under foot by men.
"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.....In the same way let your light shine before men so they may see your good works and glorify your Father in Heaven..." He continued.
I had never heard such vivid illustrations, such a call to being a source of light to others. Yeshua's urging of good works was not dogmatic rules to obtain favor, but an expression of love.
"Do not think I have come to abolish the Torah or the Prophets! I did not come to abolish, but fulfill...For I tell you that unless your righteousness exceeds that of the Pharisees and the Torah scholars, you shall never enter the Kindom of Heaven!" I heard Yeshua speak.
I don't understand. Sha'ul was a Pharisee! How righteous can the Pharisees and Torah scholars be when they can do such things to their wives and children? How can the Rabbi, who speaks with such wisdom and act with such compassion condone such interpretation of the Torah by them that splits up a family, breaks our hearts and ruins our lives?
"...You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery. But I tell you that everyone that looks upon a woman to lust after her has already committed adultery with her in his heart...."
I sat up straighter. Now the Rabbi would clarify this injustice, surely.
"...It was said, 'Whoever sends his wife away, let him give her a certificate of divorce. But I say to you that everyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, makes her commit adultery and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery..." the Rabbi uttered.
He does not condone such interpretations! However, it would seem that I was condemned to a life of celibacy, or I would commit adultery and cause anyone who might marry me to commit adultery. I won't be responsible for bringing any man into such a sin. Am I missing something? Is this not punishment for Sha'ul's actions and not my own? I was crest fallen, but I knew that Yeshua was different than other Rabbi's and Torah scholars. He spoke truth, and his whole countenance expressed love. I stayed to hear every word.
He taught of overcoming evil with good; of righteous living; of how to pray--to HaShem as Father! Abba!--to overcome worry with trust in our Abba in Heaven; to not be condemning of others; to judge the fruits of prophets and teachers; to build a firm foundation for life on his teachings and follow them. He taught with such authority.
After he finished, Rabbi Yeshua began to heal the sick. I, Devorah, Miryam and Yosef stood and pushed our way through the crowd. We helped Devorah reach out to Yeshua. She called to Him. He extended his hand, took hold of hers. When he smiled, she saw it. His light brown eyes were radiant with love and joy. Then, he turned his attention to me. He caressed my cheek and said, "What has the living to do with the dead? Your husband is dead. Your faith has set you free. Be baptized with all of these and do as you have heard me teach this day." Then, he stepped away and was surrounded by a hoard of others who needed his touch.
I was baptized that day, by Andrew, one of Yeshua's disciples, so were my sisters and brother. We all had much to discuss on our journey home. Sha'ul was a Pharisee, but he was dead in his trespass and sin. His heart was so into the letter of law, that it was dead to the Spirit of God. Sha'ul as my husband was dead. I was free to live my life, and even marry if I were so blessed to be loved again by another man. Yet if such a blessing never happened, I was free; I was loved; I had purpose to be a light to others. Yeshua had opened my understanding to the Spirit of God, the Spirit of the Law. Marriage is a sacred covenant between two people and blessed by God. It is not meant to be broken. But when a man or woman violates that covenant through adultery, idolatry or a hard heart, and will not be reconciled as God wills, then the other mate is free. What has the living to do with the dead?
Lori Vidak 6-12-14
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