The Letter

(Based on Matthew 14: 13-21. The Feeding of the Five Thousand)

To my honored friend, Nicodemus. Peace be with you.

I have often missed you since you moved from this region; our debates and discussions on the law and the scripture were stimulating and deeply satisfying and I have not found another friend with such keen insight or depth of knowledge as you. I have often wished we could sit once again in the quiet shade of your olive tree to deliberate over the greatness of G_D’s laws but lately I have also desperately wanted to put before your shrewd mind an experience that has disturbed me deeply.

You must have heard of Jesus of Nazareth by now. The chief priest has denounced him as a troublemaker and I had no desire whatsoever to seek him out in order to listen to him or witness one of his miracle tricks. I felt that my duties left me no time to listen to madmen and itinerant preachers. However, his name was on everyone’s lips and I couldn’t go anywhere without hearing questions, whispers and speculations about this Jesus. I became concerned about his influence over people, especially over those who are ignorant of the law and depend on people like us to guide them in righteousness. The last thing I thought they needed was to be completely misdirected by some lunatic who claims G_D is his Father.

Two weeks ago, there was great excitement in our region. The rumor was that this Jesus was on his way to the other side of the lake where there is that hillside that has a natural amphitheater. People were closing up their market stalls, downing tools and gathering their families as fast as possible in order to go see him and soon the whole region was almost empty. The only ones left in the village were a few of the lame and sick sitting in the streets grieving about being left behind. I exhorted them to cease their whining and told them they were better off staying in town begging G_D to forgive their obvious sinfulness. I was about to return to my duties when I thought, “Perhaps I should go. People will come back full of this braggart’s words. They’ll be confused and pestering me to explain things. I’d better know exactly what it is he is teaching these people so I will know what we’re fighting against.”

When I arrived at the spot where his arrival was rumored to be, I was dumbfounded. I had expected several hundred people to be there but there were several thousand! I was filled with alarm for it was obvious that his influence was more widespread than I thought. I knew it would be difficult to hear him from the edge of the crowd (where I very much preferred to stay) because no man can make himself heard by four or five thousand people, natural amphitheater or not. Crowds tend to be unruly and noisy. So, I shouldered my way as close to the front as possible until I could go no further because there were too many people. I resigned myself to being a short distance away and sat down to wait. I looked to my left and found I was very close to a woman whom I had no doubt was a prostitute and a harlot. She gave me a very disrespectful look and turned her face away quickly. I was going to get up and find some place better to sit but the crowds were too dense. I had no choice but to stay where I was. I glanced behind me and who do you think was sitting right there, his knee almost touching my back? Ezra, the tax collector. Could I have found a worse place to sit? You have no idea how uncomfortable it was to be sitting with such sinners in order to listen to a self-proclaimed prophet as if I, too, was seeking something. I felt quite humiliated.

Suddenly the noise of the crowd died away completely. People who had been standing and milling around in the front sat down quickly and children who had been yelling and chasing one another immediately sat quietly on the grass. It was as if a wave of stillness washed over the whole crowd. Even I, who am not easily influenced by crowd-induced emotions, felt a kind of peace moving through me as if everything was all right. That’s the only way I could describe that stillness, Nicodemus. Everything was all right. I had never had that sense in my life before.

Then a fishing boat filled with several men came close to the shore. The men, upon viewing the crowds, turned to one man sitting wearily in the stern and they were obviously discussing the crowds and pointing back to where they had come from, perhaps indicating that maybe they should go elsewhere. The man they were talking to stood up and gazed at the crowds. The people were still silent but you could feel their hope and yearning palpably reaching out to him. He finally stepped out of the boat, waded to shore and began making his way through the crowd. As he walked, he reached out and touched those he passed by. That’s all he did. A light touch, sometimes a caress on the head…he was especially gentle with the sick and more than once I saw a great stir of joy and excitement after he had passed by and touched someone. The amazing thing was that the crowd remained respectful and orderly even though all desired to be touched by him.

When he reached the top of the hill, he climbed onto a large boulder and began to speak. What did he say? For the most part, I have no idea. He must have spoken for three hours or more and I only remember him saying a couple of things. At one point, he looked directly at me, right into my eyes, and asked with great love, “Why do you spend your money on that which is not bread, and your labor on that which does not satisfy?”

Nicodemus, would you think me a complete fool if I told you that at that moment I felt terribly ashamed? I was ashamed of my gold rings and my fine linen robes, which only a few moments before had been proper symbols of my status and of G_D’s blessing. I felt ashamed of…of everything, Nicodemus. I thought of the sick and lame I had left behind in the town, people who had simply wanted to see this man. I felt as though everything I had deemed terribly important and valuable and all the judgments I had ever made were like dust and ashes as his eyes penetrated my heart. But the wonderful thing was that even though I felt ashamed, I didn’t feel condemned. I felt so free as though all the ‘important stuff’ I had been carrying around in my head and heart didn’t matter anymore. I didn’t have to carry it. I had no idea how much of a burden it had been until it was gone.

Before I could think much more about it, I noticed there was something going on up at the front. His followers were talking to him, pointing at the crowd then pointing at the sun in the sky and they were urging him to move back to the boat. He just smiled at them, indicated the crowds and said something. They were at a complete loss. You could tell how confused they were even from where I was sitting. Then a young boy came up to one disciple and handed him a basket that the disciple took to Jesus, perhaps thinking that at least Jesus could eat even if no one else could. Some of the people in the crowd, sensing that he had finished teaching, were standing up and getting ready to go even though it was a long journey to where they could get food or lodging. Jesus told everyone to sit again, held the basket high so all could see it, asked for the blessing of G_D upon it and began to break the bread and hand it to the disciples. He indicated that they were to hand it out to the people.

Things became very confused then and I couldn’t quite see what was happening as the disciples asked more men to help them distribute the bread. Obviously, the bread and fish weren’t being depleted but I couldn’t quite see where it was coming from. It just seemed to keep coming. In fact, it seemed like they were having trouble distributing the food quickly enough before their baskets were filled again to overflowing. 

I was just about to jump up and try to see what exactly was the source of all this food when I felt someone tug my sleeve. I turned and there was the prostitute holding out two big pieces of bread and a large fish to me. She looked like a totally different woman. Her face, instead of being hard and resentful, was glowing, warm and soft. Normally I would never have taken food from such a woman but I received it with a sense that I was being given an incredibly valuable and beautiful gift.  I looked into her eyes and said, “Why don’t you keep it? You need it far more than I do.” Do you know what she said? She said, “He looked directly at me and he spoke to me. He said, ‘The eyes of all look to you and you give them food in due season.’ I don’t know exactly what that means but my heart yearns to share the abundance with you and everyone around me.”

All I could do was accept it with great thanks. Then there was a voice in my head that said, ‘Ezra hungers’. I immediately turned around and said, “Ezra, this food is for you. Eat well and may the blessings of the Lord be on you.” As he received the food, he had tears rolling down his cheeks. I had to turn away because I felt I wanted to weep as well knowing it was not physical food Ezra hungered for but for the bread of acceptance and respect. When I looked into my lap, there were two pieces of bread and a fish where nothing had been a moment ago. Again, I heard his voice resonating inside of me saying, “You open your hand, satisfying the desire of every living thing.” I looked up and again he was looking directly at me. Did he say the words out loud? I somehow don’t think so. It just felt like I was a deep part of him and of his ministry to the people - and I felt like I had come home.

From that moment until the time I arrived back home, everything was a peaceful blur but since then I have been vacillating between feeling like my whole life has somehow been made right and feeling a kind of terror of not knowing who I am anymore or what I should be doing, as if everything I ever knew and thought has been turned upside down and inside out.

I started out this letter to you, Nicodemus, hoping that perhaps you would write back with words that would pull me out of my chaos and set me back firmly on the solid secure ground of law and reason but now, after writing out my experiences, I know that it is not possible. I must accept that the old wineskin has burst and is not reparable. I must be open to the new wine that has penetrated the deepest parts of my soul. I keep remembering the psalm, “The Lord is good to all and his compassion is over all that he has made.” Funny how often I have read that line and never heard it.

It’s no use, my good friend. I have been completely undone by the Nazarene. I know now that he is not a madman or simply another wandering teacher.  He is the Son of God and he is everything I have been looking for, even though I didn’t know I was looking for anything. I pray that you will soon have an opportunity to see this Jesus of Nazareth – or better yet, to speak with him. You will never be the same. 

May the grace and peace of the beautiful Holy One of Israel be with you and your house.

Your humble servant,

Joseph of Arimathea