Jesus and the Women He set the stage for Gallantry, for Equity copyright Doug Blair, Waterloo, ON. 2015
John Four and a Thirsty Woman
Each noon for the water When others were gone And Jacob’s well good all these years. Their gossip was hurtful Could not get along Alone I addressed all my fears. The men had been many Not all had been wed To me, or to those gone before. The present one helpful Perhaps there was love Provided I cooked, swept the floor. But here sat a man And waiting it seemed And asking me for a cool drink. And I of Samaria And he quite the Jew Oh what would the gossipers think? He spoke of a water That never ran dry
That tasted as fresh as the dew. A strange living water Relieving all thirst As if all my past life He knew. But no condemnation Just hope in His eyes And gentle words thrilling my soul I must tell the others Could this be the One? Long pledged to make broken hearts whole?
Shamed Woman
Here am I condemned to die, Alone in my shame on the sand. The Pharisees have caught me In passion and lust with that man. The law of our land has ruled Adulterers surely must die. In chambers I served myself To his strength, his charm and his lie. I know I have no excuse. It is written, “Let both be stoned”. But where is my man of charm? Sadly, I suffer this alone. Through crowded streets harshly dragged By priests who now lust for my blood; To the temple I am led, And made to stand marked in the crowd. All faces now gaze at me. I am stripped, bared and soiled by sin. Harsh judgment these men demand; But the Teacher-light shines from him! He looks kindly once at me, Then stoops to his knees by the sand; All talk of my stoning hushed… He writes on the ground with his hand. A long and stern look he casts T’ward these men of cold rite and creed; Then of stoning he suggests: “Let him without sin start the deed.”
Now much to my great surprise Accusers are shrinking away. Compassion confronts vain pride; They retreat with nothing to say. Oh Teacher, Jesus, my Lord, I can’t be condemned save by you. Your mercy has won my love. My days in the flesh are all through. …Fresh hope you have deemed to restore; I will go and will sin no more!
Widow of Nain
She lived down the street from us. Trying to make ends meet with her baked goods and her simple stitchery. Six years the husband had been gone. That awful accident at the building site. The week of lingering and the night of the terrible storm when her childhood sweetheart breathed his last. Their son had been twelve years old when he lost his father and the much needed male influence. In the intervening years he had few friends, no known romance and a string of short-term jobs to help his mother. It had seemed to her that a new household and laughing grandchildren were dreams incapable of fruition. Then fever visited, and the youth with his irregular work schedules, poor diet and meager build proved a ready target. He came home wheezing and lasted only two days. The neighbours, my husband included, had arranged the funeral bier, the rabbi’s attendance and the simple gathering of respect for one so little known. Oh, but he was still the hope and treasure of his mother. To the rest of us women her brave silence in the procession was almost more pathetic than an open flood of grief. At the end of the street and before turning to the place of meeting, we noticed a tall fetching man in the company of several friends. He laid his hands on the shoulders of two of his comrades and turned to us. With eyes confident, clear and piercing he faced the bereaved woman whispering, “Weep not.” Asking for no permission, he approached the body and touched the bier upon which it lay, “Young man, I say unto thee arise.” Imagine our shock when we saw the head move and the eyes register recognition, the lips a smile and some words of reassurance to his mother. Alive again! What strange power? What divine sympathy had come to bless our village, a delicate lad and one poor lonely woman? This man, Jesus, so masterful and compassionate. The mother’s dreams revived.
(Taken with some liberties from Luke 7:11-17)
Lazarus' Sisters
“His sisters sent unto him, saying, Jesus Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick.” John 11:3 In their trouble the first thought of the sisters was of Jesus, and they sent at once to Him. This lesson we should not overlook. No doubt they sent for the physician; but they sent also for Christ. We should never fail to send word to Christ when anything is wrong in our home. We should want Him always in our sick-rooms when our loved ones are suffering. We must notice also the message which the sisters sent to Christ. It was very short and simple. They did not beg and plead with Him to come, — indeed they made no request whatever; they merely told Jesus that His friend was sick, and left to Himself to decide what He would do. They knew that He would do the right thing from the prompting of His own heart. Notice also the plea. They did not say, “He who loves thee is sick,” but, “He whom Thou lovest is sick.” They made their appeal to Christ’s own heart rather than to any personal claim. This is always our best plea with Christ — His love for us, not our love for Him. There is something also in this message which speaks of a deep feeling of peace in the midst of danger. Many persons in such experiences lose all their courage and ofttimes their faith; but these sisters, though in such deep distress, maintained their composure. They had learned lessons of peace from Christ in the bright, sunny days beforehand, and when the trouble came they were ready for it, and were not disturbed. If we would get Christ’s sweet comfort when sorrow comes, we must welcome Him in the days of gladness. If this Bethany family had shut Christ out of their home when they were all well and happy, they could not have had His blessed comfort in their sore distress. We must take Christ in the bright days if we would have Him when it grows dark. J. R. Miller
For the Women
I appreciate the tender and respectful treatment which Luke's Gospel gives to the women of Jesus' time. We must remember that women were effectively chattels with no independent commercial or judicial standing. They were married off by parental arrangement. It was shameful for them to consider training in a trade. They were physically separated from the men in the places of worship. They were subject to the whims of the husband in the eventuality of divorce. But then Luke speaks of Elizabeth the priest's wife; young obedient Mary of Nazareth; the widow of Nain; the sinful woman at the feet of Jesus in the pharisee's house; the infirm twelve year old daughter
of Jairus; the faithful woman with the issue of blood; Mary Magdalene and others who ministered unto Jesus of their substance; the attentive sisters Mary and Martha; the importunate widow of the parable who persevered before the judge; the mothers who brought their little children for Jesus' blessing; the poor widow with her sacrificial offering in the temple; the women who wept on the Via Dolorosa; the women who lovingly came to the tomb for final respects to Jesus' body; the earliest witnesses to the resurrection. Might I add a thought on that final item. It has been argued that if the disciples were concocting a story of the resurrection of their Master, they would not have used women as the primary and most direct early witnesses. In the prevailing schemes of men at that time women were not competent witnesses. But in the schemes of God...
At the Feet of Jesus
I cannot beat the trails, Or trim the wind-taut sails, Or pitch a camp beside the dusty road. I cannot tame the crowd, Or reprimand the proud, Or offer strength to bear your heavy load. I have a woman’s heart, And play a woman’s part, Attending to the tasks of house and fare. I hunger for some way, Some gesture just to say, I love you Jesus, and I truly care. You’ve shown us so much life And spared us all your strife, Retreating from our home to pour your heart Out in the hills of prayer, To meet your Father there, To gain His strength before you must depart. I grieved your love before, When you had planned much more Than simply curing Lazarus’ ill health. I wept that you came late, That you would hesitate, But you were bringing resurrection wealth! And here we are again
At table with you, friend, And I can sense the heaviness of sin Weighs doubly on you now, As you reflect on how The final ministry will soon begin. The ointment in my hand, A rare and precious brand, Seems all I have right now of worth to share. And so I wash your feet With fragrance rich and sweet, And wipe them clean and dry with my long hair. I know this is not waste, Though Judas jeers with haste: “The money could have gone to feed the poor!” But you have read my heart, My urge to play some part In love’s anointing ere you reach death’s door. Again I’m at your side, While others harp and chide: “There’s much work to be done, no time to rest.” But here your eyes meet mine In fellowship divine, Assuring that in this I share your best! MARK 14: 8, 9 She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying. Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, this also that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her.
Woman, Behold Thy Son
My Jesus tortured! Why? Oh that a sword should pierce my heart And rip it from my breast! My son brought here to die! A Roman gibbet follows hard The trial and false arrest. So few would mourn and cry, That mercy, boundless reaching love Should meet such boundless hate. Will no one answer why
My gentle Jesus’ coming here Deserves a robber’s fate? Forgiveness is his plea For every mortal gathered now To mock him at his end. Suspended on this tree, With only one repentant thief, Apparently his friend. Could I but rescue thee! Sweet infant, searching, sturdy child Who took a joiner’s trade. Am I here forced to see The final handiwork that you So selflessly have made? It’s Mother! In this crowd! But do your eyes discern the one Who comes to share your grief? And John, beloved, allowed Henceforth to render me instead A loving son’s relief. Cruel barbs come from the proud, Who jeer at one who ever dared To call himself a king. “How low this king is bowed! Or does he yet expect his God To show, escape to bring?” Noon sky turns black as night! And does the God who blessed my womb Now curse the Light of day? Oh, deep and dreadful sight, That dearest Father now forsakes The Son, though hard he pray! Come now, Celestial Might, And help the One who spread your name Through this poor hurting land. Show Him both just and right. Descend somehow! Deliver this, Our Child, with outstretched hand!
Why Weepest Thou?
Mary Magdalene had come to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus. It was Sunday morning. She had no idea how she was going to get the stone door opened. She had no idea how to handle her grief. She only knew that she must make the closest connection possible to the Master, for only there might she find some peace, some comfort, some idea for the future. This was the little woman out of whom Jesus had cast several demons. We do not know what they were. We cannot be certain that she had once been a woman of gross immorality. No matter, through Jesus she had heard and had believed that she was a new creature by faith. But the stone door is rolled away. The tomb is empty! The Master has been taken. And Mary weeps. For disappointed hope. For the cowardice of His followers. For the jealousy and envy and pride which had been shown by the fellowship right up to the end. For the hypocrisy and heartlessness of the religion of her age. For the unstoppable oppression of the contemporary powers. For the innumerable suffering ones who would now miss the comfort, hope, truth and healing of Jesus. For the pathetic alloy of elements, good and bad, in her own heart. But then a stranger appears. He states in seven words, "Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou? She briefly explains her predicament. Then she hears that familiar wonderful voice say her name, "Mary". How could she not notice? It is Jesus. Freed from the shackles of death. Coming to her side. Her response is automatic, "Rabboni" (most honoured teacher, most honoured Master). In spite of her compulsion to embrace Him, she is instructed to go and inform the brethren. Jesus is alive. He is immediately available. He is not diminished in power. He has been true to His word throughout. Let us take this scene in the Resurrection Garden and realize that it contains the seeds of all true revival in the Church and for the community.
Lydia at Philippi
He’s new to this district And found us in prayer All down by the river Our burdens to share.
We women were needy We women were dry We women were hopeful That God would come by. And fresh from the harbour There came this strange man Who, serving one Jesus, Extolled a new Plan Where wrongs were forgiven Where mercy held sway Where lives were transported From night into Day. We clung to his message Like bees to the bloom And Glory, his Saviour Had plenty of room For more in His Household For women like us Who hungered for right things Who longed just to trust. And trust, my reaction His stories, His Cross His leaving the grave shrouds His rising, Death’s loss. I own now this Jesus Relinquish my heart Perhaps now my household Could give Paul his start. For all Greece is needy And all Greece is lost I will serve this Gospel Whatever the cost. (Acts 16: 12-15)
Note: This woman might have been “the second witness” to the Apostle Paul confirming that Europe was ready for the Gospel hope and standard. The first witness was the vision of “the Macedonian call”. And then here by the river, this industrious woman, a seller of purple, received the new life and dedicated her prayer and resources to the mission of the envoy extraordinary.
Comfort to a Woman in Grief
(Taken from the Letters of Samuel Rutherford) To LADY KENMURE, on the occasion of the death of her infant daughter MADAM, — Saluting your Ladyship with grace and mercy from God our Father and from our Lord Jesus Christ. I was sorry, at my departure, leaving your Ladyship in grief, and would be still grieved at it if I were not assured that ye have one with you in the furnace whose visage is like unto the Son of God. I am glad that ye have been acquainted from your youth with the wrestlings of God, knowing that if ye were not dear to God, and if your health did not require so much of Him, He would not spend so much physic upon you. All the brethren and sisters of Christ must be conform to His image and copy in suffering (Rom. 8.29). And some do more vividly resemble the copy than others. Think, Madam, that it is a part of your glory to be enrolled among those whom one of the elders pointed out to John, ‘These are they which came out of great tribulation and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.’ Ye have lost a child: nay she is not lost to you who is found to Christ. She is not sent away, but only sent before, like unto a star, which going out of our sight doth not die and vanish, but shineth in another hemisphere. We see her not, yet she doth shine in another country. If her glass was but a short hour, what she wanteth of time that she hath gotten of eternity; and ye have to rejoice that ye have now some plenishing up in heaven. Build your nest upon no tree here; for ye see God hath sold the forest to death; and every tree whereupon we would rest is ready to be cut down, to the end we may fly and mount up, and build upon the Rock, and dwell in the holes of the Rock. What ye love besides Jesus, your husband, is an adulterous lover. Now it is God’s special blessing to Judah, that He will not let her find her paths in following her strange lovers. ‘Therefore, behold I will hedge up thy way with thorns and make a wall that she shall not find her paths. And she shall follow after her lovers, but she shall not overtake them’ (Hos. 2.6-7). O thrice happy Judah, when God buildeth a double stone wall betwixt her and the fire of hell! The world, and the things of the world, Madam, is the lover ye naturally affect beside your own husband Christ. The hedge of thorns and the wall which God buildeth in your way, to hinder you from this lover, is the thorny hedge of daily grief, loss of children, weakness of body, iniquity of the time, uncertainty of estate, lack of worldly comfort, fear of God’s anger for old unrepented-of sins. What lose ye, if God twist and plait the hedge daily thicker? God be blessed, the Lord will not let you find your paths. Return to your first husband. Do not weary, neither think that death walketh towards you with a slow pace. Ye must be riper ere ye be shaken. Your days are no longer than Job’s, that were ‘swifter than a post, and passed away as the ships of desire, and as the eagle that hasteth for the prey’ (9, 25, 26, margin). There is less sand in your glass now than there was yesternight. This span-length of ever-posting time will soon be ended. But the greater is the mercy of God, the more years ye get to advise, upon what terms, and upon what conditions, ye cast your soul in the huge gulf of never-ending eternity. The Lord hath told you what ye should be doing till He come; ‘wait and hasten (saith Peter,) for the coming of the Lord’; all is night that is here, in respect of
ignorance and daily ensuing troubles, one always making way to another, as the ninth wave of the sea to the tenth; therefore sigh and long for the dawning of that morning, and the breaking of that day of the coming of the Son of man, when the shadows shall flee away. Persuade yourself the King is coming; read His letter sent before Him, ‘Behold, I come quickly.’ Wait with the wearied night-watch for the breaking of the eastern sky, and think that you have not a morrow. I am loath to weary you; show yourself a Christian, by suffering without murmuring; — in patience possess your soul: they lose nothing who gain Christ. I commend you to the mercy and grace of our Lord Jesus. ANWOTH, Jan, 15, 1629
Nothing More Beautiful
Zephaniah 3: 14 Sing,
O daughter of Zion; shout, O Israel; be glad and rejoice with all the heart, O daughter of Jerusalem. 15 The
Lord hath taken away thy judgments, he hath cast out thine enemy: the king of Israel, even the Lord, is in the midst of thee: thou shalt not see evil any more. 16 In
that day it shall be said to Jerusalem, Fear thou not: and to Zion, Let not thine hands be slack. 17 The
Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing. 18 I will gather
them that are sorrowful for the solemn assembly, who are of thee, to whom the reproach of it was a burden. 19 Behold, at
that time I will undo all that afflict thee: and I will save her that halteth, and gather her that was driven out; and I will get them praise and fame in every land where they have been put to shame.
The Lover Ponders
Can you not get it? I am ravished by you. Saw your potential when I first took hold. Passed by many others, you know; and that is my prerogative. When you consider Ruth and the story of her gentle courtship out in the fields of Boaz. That was my heart for you.
When you turn a look toward my garden of spices in the Canticles, do you not yearn for more of my delights? When you wince at the waywardness of Hosea's wife, you sense a little of what challenges me in holding on. No I will not make light of my covenant...not ever. When you see Mary of Bethany pouring the fragrance upon Jesus' feet and crying out her loyalty, you are coming near to my hope for you. When you admire the stamina of Lydia at the riverside, praying yet again for the revelation of Grace that does in fact come through Paul, you see the champion that I envision in you. When you accompany John and behold the Bride, the Heavenly City, descending from Heaven, you begin to appreciate how intensely I treasure this thing called marriage. Now would you please rest in the assurance of my fidelity? Not going away, Beloved. Not ever deaf to your cries; nor to the abuse you sometimes suffer for my namesake. Believe me, my Love, this thing of ours can only get better.
Known by Him
Known by Him and claimed by Him. That is the path to victory, to overcoming. Not healed by Him; prospered by Him; promoted by Him; given acclaim by Him. Simply known...and we know Him. The original word suggests an intimacy, as in marriage. The chapter on the Good Shepherd (John 10) suggests that the sheep know His voice and will follow Him and none other. Have the under-shepherds caught this intense affinity? They are caregivers in every sense of the word and not just teachers or cheerleaders. They must have time to attend upon and not just to preach to their charges. Feel this intensity of care in Ezekiel chapter 34: 13And I will bring them out from the people, and gather them from the countries, and will bring them to their own land, and feed them upon the mountains of Israel by the rivers, and in all the inhabited places of the country. 14I will feed them in a good pasture, and upon the high mountains of Israel shall their fold be: there shall they lie in a good fold, and in a fat pasture shall they feed upon the mountains
of Israel. 15I will feed my flock, and I will cause them to lie down, saith the Lord GOD. 16I will seek that which was lost, and bring again that which was driven away, and will bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick: but I will destroy the fat and the strong; I will feed them with judgment. I found my attention drawn recently to the Passover Psalms (the Grand Hallel, Psalms 113118). At a late point in the reading one encounters the verse " 118:6 The LORD is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me? " And that is all our confidence.
The Bus Fare
Years ago I thoroughly enjoyed reading "The Hiding Place" and "Tramp for the Lord", books written by Corrie ten Boom (1892-1983) and telling of her itinerant life both during and after the Second World War. Her family of clock-makers in Holland were arrested by the Nazis for harbouring Jewish people in their home. In the camp Corrie proved a real blessing to the women around her, conducting Bible studies and talking through problems. Her sister became ill and was denied crucial medical care. Corrie remembers discovering her dead body stacked with others like so much cord-wood. In the closing days of the war Corrie miraculously escaped one final truckload of prisoners destined for the gas ovens. In the post-war years she became convinced that her major purpose was to assist in establishing forgiveness, trust and cooperation between the ravaged peoples of Europe. Upon simple invitations she traveled extensively to tell her story in small community halls, hospitals and churches. Jesus had been her hiding place. Arrangements always seemed to be last-minute and Corrie would jokingly tell friends that "God never provided the bus fare until she was about ready to take the trip." How often have I thought of this quaint saying when considering an imminent trial, challenge or difficulty. Corrie's experience and wisdom have helped. The story is also told of her visit to a crippled patient in a hospital ward. Anger and self-pity
consumed the man. He would hear none of her Jesus. Undeterred, Corrie reached into her purse and produced a nearly completed work of needlepoint. She held the underside of the piece toward the man, all twisted, knotted and seemingly messy. "My friend, this must be your point of view on your life. But remember two things: 1) It is unfinished and 2) You do not have God's point of view on the project." Corrie then turned the needlepoint over to reveal a beautiful still-life image. Another incident involved the aftermath of a town-hall meeting when she was approached by a man whom she recognized as one of the most senior and brutal of guards at the prison camp. Smiling awkwardly, he advised that he had turned his life over to Christ and had repented of all the evil done during the war. Could she find it in her heart to forgive him? Corrie's thoughts raced over the next few seconds. She saw the camp. The young women in despair. The indignities. The seemingly endless menial labour. Her sister's dead body. The deadly truck departures. In an unspoken prayer she confessed that she did not have the grace to forgive. Would God provide it. A sensation of warmth passed through her right arm and it was extended by reflex for the handshake. Both individuals were then teary-eyed and the kiss on the cheek and the embrace were soon accomplished. No longer enemies. But family. Here again was the bus fare.
The Blairs: Bev, Hilary and Doug