Poem Of The Man God The Gospel As Revealed To Me

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    Faith Is Always Rewarded

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    Faith Is Always Rewarded Empty Faith Is Always Rewarded

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    An excerpt from:

    628. Jesus Appears to Various People in Different Places.

    Page 818

    The wayfarer walks, walks… Dawn begins to appear in the sky at the extreme horizon. But it is so feeble, at present, that it does not illuminate anything, and the poor lantern is still needed.
    Another wayfarer, all enveloped in a mantle, is waiting or resting near a little bridge.
    The one with the lantern, who is making for that bridge, stops in a doubtful attitude. He is uncertain whether he should pass there or go back, where in the gravel-bed of a little torrent, there are large stones that can serve to cross over the little water at the bottom.
    The one sitting on the rustic parapet, made of the trunk of a tree with a white-green bark still on it, raises his head, watching the one who has stopped. He stands up and says: « Be not afraid of Me. Come forward. I am a good companion, not a highwayman. » It is Jesus. I recognise Him more by His voice than by His appearance, which is veiled by the deep twilight, that the light cannot penetrate as far as Jesus.
    But the person stops, still doubtful.
    « Come, woman. Do not be afraid. We shall go together for a stretch of the road and it will be a good thing for you. »
    The woman, now I know that it is a woman, comes forward, won over by the kindness of the voice or by a mysterious force and she shakes her head as she proceeds, whispering: « There is no more good for me. »
    They now proceed side by side along the path, which is so wide as to allow only two pedestrians to pass. The advancing dawn shows, on one side of the path, a stiff forest in miniature of ripe corn awaiting the sickle. On the other side the corn has already been cut and is lying in sheaves in the field despoiled of its glory of a ripe harvest.
    « May they be cursed! » says the woman in a low voice, casting a glance at the sheaves lying in the field.
    Jesus is silent.
    The day is advancing. The woman puts out the poor lantern and, to do so, she uncovers her face disfigured by tears. And she raises her head to look eastwards, where a yellow pink line announces the rising of the sun. She shakes her fist eastwards and she says again: « May you be cursed, too! »
    « The day? God made it. As He made the corn. They are favours of God. They are not to be cursed… » says Jesus kindly.
    « And I curse them. I curse the sun and the crops. And I have a reason for that. »
    « Have they not been good to you for so many years? Did the former not ripen your daily bread, the grapes that change into wine, the vegetables and the fruit of the kitchen garden, did it not make the pastures grow to feed sheep and lambs, on whose milk and meat you fed and with whose wool you wove your garments? And did the corn not give bread to you, to your children, to your father and to your mother, to your husband? »
    She bursts into tears and shouts: « I no longer have my husband! They have killed him! He went to work as a day-labourer, because we have seven children and the little we have of our own was not sufficient to appease the hunger of ten people. And yesterday evening he came and said: "I am tired and I feel out of sorts" and he threw himself on the little bed, burning with fever. His mother and I assisted him as best we could, as we intended to send for the doctor in town today… But after cock-crow he died. The sun killed him. Yes, I am going to town. To get what is necessary. I will inform his brothers when I come back. I left his mother to watch her son and my children… and I came away to do what is to be done… And should I not curse the burning sun and corn? »
    So reserved as she was previously, so much so that I would not have thought she was a woman, and above all a distressed one, she has now broken the barriers to her sorrow, which overflows violently. She says what she did not say at home « in order not to wake up the children sleeping in the next room », what weighed so much on her heart as to give her the sensation that it was about to burst. Recollections of love, dismay for the future, grief of a widow, pass confusedly like rubble carried away by the swollen waves of a river in spate…

    Jesus lets her speak. Because Jesus knows how to pity sorrow, He allows it to give vent to its feelings, so that man may be relieved thereby, and the tiredness itself, that follows the impetuousness of sorrow, may make him capable of understanding who comforts him. He then says kindly: « At Nain and at Nazareth, and in the places between the former and the latter, there are the disciples of the Rabbi of Nazareth. Go to them… »
    « And what do You expect them to do? If He were still here!… But they? They are not saints! My husband was in Jerusalem on that day. And he knows… Oh! no! He knew! He knows nothing anymore! He is dead! »
    « What did your husband do on that day? »
    « When the uproar of the street woke him, he ran up to the terrace of the house where he was with his brothers and he saw the Rabbi pass by, as He was taken to the Praetorium, and with other Galileans he followed Him until He died. They pelted him and the others with stones, when they found out that they were Galileans, up there on the mountain, and they repelled them farther down. But they were there until everything was accomplished. Then… they came away… And now he is dead. Oh! if at least I knew that he is at peace because of his compassion for the Rabbi! »
    Jesus does not reply to that wish. But He says: « He will then have seen that there were some disciples on Golgotha. Were all the Galileans perhaps like your husband? »
    « Oh! no. Many, also from Nazareth, abused Him. It is known. What a shame! »
    « So, if many people also from Nazareth showed no love for their Jesus, and yet He has forgiven them, and many will become holy in future, why do you want to judge all the disciples of Christ in the same way? Do you want to be more severe than God is? God grants much to those who forgive… »
    « The good Rabbi is no longer! here! He is no longer here! And my husband is dead. »
    « The Rabbi has given His disciples the power to do what He did. »
    « I am prepared to believe that. But He alone could defeat death. He alone! »
    « And do we not read that Elijah gave the spirit back to the son of the widow of Zarephath? I solemnly tell you that Elijah was a great prophet, but the servants of the Saviour, Who died and has risen because He was the Son of the true God and became incarnate to redeem men, have even a greater power, because on the Cross He forgave them their sins, and they were the first to be forgiven, as He was aware, through divine wisdom, of the true sorrow of their contrite spirits, He sanctified them after His resurrection forgiving them again, and He infused the Holy Spirit into them, so that they could represent Me worthily both with their words and their deeds, and the world might not remain desolate after My departure from it. »
    The woman steps back lively, dumbfounded. She throws her veil back to look at her companion. But she does not recognise Him. She thinks that she has misunderstood. But she dare not speak any more…
    « Are you afraid of Me? First you thought that I was a highwayman ready to snatch the money you have in your breast and serves to buy what is necessary for the burial. And you were afraid. Are you now afraid to know that I am Jesus? And is Jesus not the One Who gives and does not take? He Who saves and does not ruin? Go back, woman. I am the Resurrection and the Life. Sudarium and spices are not necessary for him who is not dead, who is no longer dead, because I am He Who defeats death and rewards who has faith. Go! Go home! Your husband is alive. Not one faith in Me is left without reward. » He makes the gesture of blessing her and going away.
    The woman comes out of her petrification. She does not ask, she does not doubt… Nothing. She falls on her knees, adoring. Then, at last, she opens her mouth and, searching in her breast, she pulls out a small purse, the poor purse of poor people, to whom misery forbids solemn honours for their dead relatives, and offering her purse she says: « I have nothing else… nothing else to tell You my gratitude, to honour You, to… »
    « I no longer need money, woman. You will take it to My apostles. »
    « Oh! yes. I will go to them with my husband… But what can I give You, my Lord? What? You appeared to me… this miracle… and I did not recognise You… and I so upset… yes, unjust even with things… »
    « Yes. And you did not think that they are because I am, and that everything that God made is good. If there had been no sun, if there had been no corn, you would not have had the present grace. »
    « But how much sorrow!… » The woman weeps remembering it.
    Jesus smiles and shows His hands saying: « This is the least part of My sorrow. And I consumed it all, without complaining, for your welfare. »
    The woman stoops to the ground to confess: « It is true. Forgive my lament. »
    Jesus disappears in His light, and when she looks up she sees that she is alone. She stands up, looks round. Nothing can prevent her from seeing, because it is broad daylight, and there is nothing but fields of crops around. The woman says to herself: « And yet I have not dreamt! » Perhaps the demon tempts her to make her doubt, because she is in a state of uncertainty for a moment, while she weighs her purse in her hands.
    But then faith triumphs, and she turns her back to the place where she was going, retracing her steps, as fast as if the winds were carrying her without making her fatigue, her face shining with a joy which is greater than any human joy, so peaceful it is. Now and again she repeats: « How good is the Lord. He is really God! He is God! Blessed be the Most High and He Whom He sent. » She cannot say anything else. And her litany mingles with the singing of birds.
    The woman is so absorbed that she does not hear the greetings of some reapers who see her pass by and ask her where is she coming from at that early hour… One joins her and says to her: « Is Mark better? Have you been for the doctor? »
    « Mark died at cock-crow and has risen from the dead. Because the Messiah of the Lord has done that » she replies, walking fast all the time.
    « Sorrow has made her insane! » whispers the man, and he shakes his head joining his companions, who have begun to cut the corn.
    The fields are filling with more and more people. But curiosity overwhelms many who decide to follow the woman, who quickens her steps more and more.
    She goes on. There is a very poor house, low, solitary, lost in the country. She directs her steps towards it, pressing her hands against her heart.
    She goes in. But as soon as she sets foot in it, an old woman throws herself in her arms shouting: « Oh! my daughter, what a grace of the Lord! Take heart, daughter, because what I have to tell you is so great, so happy, that… »
    « I know, mother. Mark is no longer dead. Where is he? »
    « You know… How? »
    « I met the Lord. I did not recognise Him, but He spoke to me and when it pleased Him, He said to me: "Your husband lives". But here… when? »
    « I had just opened the window, and I was looking at the first sunbeam on the fig-tree. Yes, just so. The first beam touched the figtree then, against the room… when I heard a deep sigh, like that of one who wakes up. I turned round frightened and I saw Mark sit up and throw behind him the sheet that I had laid on his face, and look up with a face, a face… Then he looked at me and said: "Mother! I am cured!" I… I almost died myself, and he assisted me, and he realised that he had been dead. He does not remember anything. He says that he remembers up to the moment we put him to bed, and then nothing else till he saw an angel, a kind of angel who looked like the Rabbi of Nazareth and who said to him: "Rise!" And he rose.
    Just when the sun had completely risen. » « Just when He said to me: "Your husband lives". Oh! mother, what a grace! How much God has loved us! »
    Those who come in find them embraced, weeping. And they think that Mark is dead and that his wife, in a moment of clearness of mind, has realised her misfortune. But Mark, upon hearing the voices, appears, looking serene, with a child in his arms, and the others holding on his tunic, and he says in a loud voice: « Here I am. Let us bless the Lord! »
    The newcomers beset him with questions, and as is usual with human things, discrepancies arise. Some believe in a real resurrection, and some, the majority, say that he had only fallen into a torpor, but he had not died. Some admit that Christ has appeared to Rachel and some say that it is a lot of nonsense, because some say: « He is dead » and some: « He has risen, but He is so indignant, He must be, that He works no more miracles for His murderous people. »
    « You can say what you like » says the man losing his patience « and say it where you like. As long as you do not say it here, where the Lord has raised me from the dead. And go away, o unfortunate people! And may Heaven enlighten your heads so that you may believe. But go away now and leave us in peace. » He drives them out and closes the door.

    He presses his wife and mother to his heart and says: « Nazareth is not far. I am going there to proclaim the miracle. » « That is what the Lord wants, Mark. We will take this money to His disciples. Let us go and bless the Lord. Just as we are. We are poor, but He also was poor, and His apostles will not despise us. »

    She busies herself tying the laces of the children's sandals, while her mother puts some provisions in a bag and closes doors and windows, and Mark goes to do I do not know what.
    They go out when they are ready and walk fast, the little ones in their arms, the others happy and somewhat bewildered, eastwards, towards Nazareth, obviously. Perhaps this place is still in the Esdraelon plain, but in a different part than that of Johanan's estate.

    Peace Be With You Always

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