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Miryam95

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  • Frank Thomas Smith
    I thought about my conversation with the Greek, a long time back, but unforgettable: our reality is nothing but a shadow-game on the walls of the cave. Close
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 1, 2005
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      I thought about my conversation with the Greek, a long time back, but
      unforgettable: our reality is nothing but a shadow-game on the walls of the
      cave. Close your eyes and it disappears. But how can there be shadows
      without light?

      I left the temple and went down to the city. I needed friends. I went to
      Veronica's, one of us for a long time. I found a gathering of women there,
      and Yeshua's mother had also come, without the rest of the family. She had
      come from Kefarnachum with some friends.

      Miryam, tell Yeshua that I am ready.

      Ready for what?

      He will understand.

      Should I tell him that he should visit you? Or would you rather go with us
      to Bethany to see him there?

      I will see him at the right time.

      These words again: at the right time. There was no comfort to be found
      there. So I went back up to the temple, but the sermon was over and the
      people were streaming back to the city. But where was Yeshua? I met some of
      our people here and there, but none knew where he was. Had what I feared
      already happened? Had a hired assassin secretly killed him and dragged him
      away? Had he been arrested? Before it got dark I went to Bethany. And there
      I found him. Nothing bad had happened to him. He was only tired and his feet
      ached. I still had two of those alabaster flasks containing the most
      precious of all oils.

      When, if not now.

      Rabbi, allow me to wash and anoint your feet. I broke one of the flasks,
      trickled some on his hair, and emptied the rest over his feet.

      Yehuda yelled: What are you doing? You're spilling out a fortune!

      Yeshua said: She is anointing me for my burial.

      Didn't Yehuda hear that? Or else why did he say: We could have given the
      money to the poor, or better still.

      Yeshua said: Whenever people speak of me and of my death, this woman will
      also be named.

      I went outside so no one would see how I was about to break out in tears.
      But no tears came. My pain was dry. I accepted the inevitable as though it
      had already happened, and I thought: If only it was all over. When I saw
      Yehuda later, I said: Well, do you still regret the use of the oil? It was
      the oil with which kings are anointed.

      He held my arm tightly: So you do believe that he's Yisrael's king?

      You must be mad, Yehuda, that you don't understand anything. Three years
      with him, and you understand nothing, nothing.


      Frank Thomas Smith
      http://SouthernCrossReview.org
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