Needy, Weak and Sinful (Men)

Jesus as the God-man who walked the earth was closest to the needy, weak and sinful.

Jesus Christ is also at this present time close to the needy, weak and sinful.

                I love this fact, it’s great and I celebrate it, but as a man I don’t want to be the needy, weak and sinful one that he’s close to. I want to be close to Christ, but as a man,  I want to be self-assured, confident, comfortable in my own skin, strong, completely pure, whole and holy. As a man I want to come to Jesus standing straight up with chest stuck out and the medals of my victories pinned firmly to my breast and the trophies of my conquests gripped proudly in my hands, so that I can show him what a good disciple I have been. I want Christ to look at me with pride in His eyes and give me the well done, good and faithful speech.

But, if I look down deep in my heart, it says that I really want to be the Man that did it, that conquered, that won, even though it was Jesus all along who conquered and won.

Along with us men, Jesus yearns and dies for us to be assured in Him, confident in Him, comfortable in Him and completely pure, whole and holy, in Him.

But, I have found that  what I want  to be, what I see myself as, and what I really am, are two different things entirely. How about you?

Just ask your wife or your mother who you really are. No wait, that won’t work, they are our wives and mothers and love us too much to tell us the truth. Perhaps at this point it would be wise to ask a trusted and mature mentor or pastor who we really are. Better yet, ask Jesus Himself. He is sure to answer and will give you the truth without worrying about whether we get our feelings hurt or not.

Let’s get brutally honest for a moment. I love brutal honesty as long as it’s me and not you. (That’s some more brutal honesty with a twist of humor based in truth.)

In the spirit of Christ I don’t really want you to be needy, weak and sinful either. But, if you are, I have the utmost compassion, my heart cries out for your healing and I’ll pray for you, minister to you, and give you some good advice. Some of which I have learned along the way and hopefully follow. But, I just don’t want to be the one that’s needy weak and sinful.

As a man this is all hard to reckon with in my own life.

When I spend so much effort worrying about my own power, am I missing His? Am I throwing the baby out with the bath water? Perhaps.

I could go on and on and tell you how to deal with this in your life. I really know how, but as Paul said in Romans 7:18 …for to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find. Since this really is the case, I guess I truly am needy, weak and sinful, and as long as I keep this perspective Christ can help me, and along the way I will learn to be the Christ-assured, Christ-confident, and Christ –strong man that will cause His eyes to fill with pride and His mouth utter the words, “Well done good and faithful”.

Because you say, 'I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing'—and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked— I counsel you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire, that you may be rich; and white garments, that you may be clothed, that the shame of your nakedness may not be revealed; and anoint your eyes with eye salve, that you may see.' -Jesus as recorded in Revelation 3:17-18

The Writer

The Writer wrote and Light came out,

Splitting darkness, He called it Day.

Heavens formed His next line,

Water, Sky as Beauty spread.

He called the coasts from Sea to be.

Hung the Moon on unseen stand,

Jupiter, Sun and Saturn too.

With spinning motion Writer sent.

Night and day O’ not alike,

Sets my time from here to there.

Time makes music to be heard.

“Arise! and read the tale” the Writer spoke.

With unseen pen and His own hand,

He sprinkled sky with heaven’s host.

The Writer’s fancy running wild,

Elephants, Zebras, and Lions too,

Animals countless and each unique.

“Man” He wrote, “come rule it all!”

Trusted creature, blameless now,

As Writers love came spilling out.

“I write to know what I’m about.”

Creature fled as Writer wrote.

Breaking the bonds as Ink ran out.

Thinking free ‘they’ settled in.

Our own existence, ours to write!

As Writer wrote, they wrote their own.

Owning history their stories wrote.

Wars and rumors, nations, lands.

Prophets, Priests and Poet Kings.

From spear to sword then cannon fear.

Ships set sail and found ‘new’ lands.

Creature spread both far and near.

Writer wrote as cities rose.

The Writer’s dream was not it seemed.

Inscribing history His characters fled.

Writers Pen, the blood it bled,

Spilled the Ink as creatures flee,

Blood red with sorrow n’er to end.

Writer come and hold my hand,

Guiding nudge towards heavens land.

The story write with Pen that bled.

The Wedding

The Wedding

“Mom! ‘I really,really want you to go with me and the boys’ It’s going to be such a grand party!”
Josh pleaded with his mom about going to Mary and Andrew’s upcoming wedding at Khirbet Kana.

“It would mean so much to them  if you would be there,” He said, as Mom stood there with an unconvinced look on her face. 

Josh usually got his way with Mom if he pleaded long enough. Josh was her first born and her favorite, as unpopular as that was with his siblings.

“Andy and I have had a lot of good times together, and  I really hate to lose him to marriage.”
Josh thought, as he reminisced about all the good times they had.  “He really ‘was' a lot of fun to have around, the life of the party.” Andrew had ‘fallen hard’ for Mary and vice versa.

Pleading again with his mother, he added.

“ It’s on Wednesday and starts at noon.”

His mother sternly replied, “You know how they like to party, it could go on for days, and I have so much to do around here, what with your Dad being gone for this past year, and your brothers and sisters are less and less help the older they get.”

Josh was pacing back and forth now, like a lion trapped in a cage, as he sparred with his mom, trying to convince her to go along with his plan.

“Come on Mom! It really would mean a lot to them, and me. I promise I will sit with you the whole time, and whatever you want, I’ll get it for you, and you won’t have to lift a finger.”

She never was able to resist Josh’s insistence. After all, he was such a good boy.
She said “OK!!, I’ll go if it really means that much to you.”

She really was ‘touched’ that he wanted her there so bad. She had often felt excluded even knowing that was not the intention. “It was just a woman thing to feel that way,” She figured.

“And Mom…by the way, ‘Could you bring a lamb, cooked the way everyone likes it?’”

“I knew it!” She ‘lovingly’ screamed with a look of feigned surprise on her face as she chased him out the door.

“Now! Josh, you go out and cut the firewood and kill the lamb!”
“Ok mom, ‘no problem’ I’ll do anything you want and added, ‘I really do want you there more than your succulent, mouth-watering and tasty lamb.” He said as he winked cutely at his mom.

---------*---------

Wedding parties in this part of the world were known to go on for up to a week, so Josh’s mom spent the next couple of days making sure that there was enough food prepared for his brothers and sisters. Mom was like that, and Josh thought that they should fend for themselves, thinking, ‘Mom’ was forever doting on them as if they were little children, and they were all nearly grown.

Besides having to cook all those meals, she cooked the lamb Josh wanted. It was her specialty and she was known far and wide for her scrumptious roast lamb. She would have the servants transport it there, ones that she could spare from taking care of Josh’s brothers and sisters.

The day came to leave for the wedding and Josh’s mom spent the day buying a gift and putting the finishing touches on her lamb.

“Mom,” said Josh. “Aren’t you about ready to go? We want to get there before the bride and groom do, so we won’t miss any of the wedding”. “Hold your horses big boy!” said his mom. “Slow and steady wins the race, don’t you know?”

Josh and his mom traveled from their home city to Khirbet Kana, three miles away by foot. It was a long and dusty walk hauling the lamb.

“You know I’m doing this as a favor to Mary and Andrew, I just want you to know that.” She repeated for the fifteenth time, but she was Mom and it would have been futile and dangerous for his health to point that out.

Besides, Josh really was a good kid, and for a man of thirty years old he did not have any of the wreckage that most of us accumulate in the vapor trail of our life. There were no drunken parties like some of his brothers had been a part of.

If you knew Josh, you knew that he was just good, to the point of ridiculously good, but if he knew it, he didn’t show it. He was just one of the guys, and there was nothing off-color, not to mention bad, that you could blame him for. Perhaps, the worst was standing up to his mom a couple of times. And once, when he was hanging out with his best friends (outside the family), his mom and brothers and sisters had wanted him to come with them and he had refused saying that his friends were his real family.

That had really ‘frosted’ his mom, but even that slight  could be forgiven, considering there were no other offenses that could really be laid at his feet. No one had really understood that one, until later.

When they got to the wedding, the host was so glad to see them, he took their coats and shoes, exclaiming profusely that “they were just in time”. He even gave them the best seat in the house after Josh had tried to sit in the back.

The place was “buzzing” with excitement. The wine was flowing, and when mom’s lamb was served out, the place erupted with joy. The talk was flowing and large platters of succulent lamb were being passed around.

The last toast by the host of the party was so ‘colorfully’ full of humor and life that the crowd was still humming and laughing for a good five minutes later. One overly overweight man tipped over backwards with his glass in one hand and a leg of lamb in another, crushing the wooden chair that was under him, still laughing as he took another bite.

The crowd erupted in a new wave of hilarity.

The wine was really having it’s effect. The servers were busily going from glass to glass trying to keep them all full when slowly the happy party noise began to subside and one guest after another was being politely told that there was no more wine.

No one really complained or made a fuss, but a slight damper was put on the hilarity of the event. When the servers began to clean up and serve water, the same happy faces, began to chill even more.

The incredible lamb that mom had brought was now a disheveled pile of scraps and bones in the center of the immense table.

Turning towards Josh, Mom ‘matter of factly’  said “they have no wine”.

Now you and I both know that when our mom turns to us and says ‘they have no wine’, this can only mean one thing, “go get some”.  This crowd was at least a hundred and fifty people, and they had drunk lots of wine. There was a good buzz going and this party was going to be done if some life could not be injected back into it. These were not winos or drunks, but good people and business men, and there was no fear of it erupting into a riot or fights starting if they didn’t get any more wine, unlike some other parties in the region.

But, it would have been a shame to see such a great party come to such a blah end so soon.
“They have no wine,” Mom said turning to her son Josh.

“Woman! What am I supposed to do about that?” Said Josh somewhat sternly. “It’s not the time for that”.

“Woman! ‘Don’t take that tone with me!’” She said discreetly, but not unheard, not wanting a scene at the party.

If the crowd hadn’t been quieted by running out of food and wine, they sure were quieted by this. You know those times when the absolute wrong thing has been said at absolutely the wrong time? A hush that thickens the air in the room like cold gravy and tastes even worse.
Or,  when a fight is about to start in the wrong place, like at a wedding.

Then, turning to the waiters, Mom said, “Whatever he says to you, do it.” What was Josh to do? He groaned deep within his guts, but not so deep that his mom didn’t hear a little rumble.

She shot him “the look”. All you men know what I mean by “the look”. What was Josh to do? Risk a full blown fight? That had never even come close to happening in all his thirty years, and it wasn’t about to happen now.

Off to the side, Josh saw six casks, about twenty or thirty gallons each, that were used to hold drinking water. He grabbed a couple of the servers and told them to fill them with water from the tap.

“Fill them to the brim.”

When that was done, he said, “Draw some out now, and take it to the host.”
Taking the glass and tipping it to his lips, you could see his eyes light up and the smile show through the glass. He hadn’t a clue where the wine had come from, but the servers knew.

He began to profusely rave to the bridegroom about how honorable and great a man he was because he had saved the best wine for last. He brought the bridegroom Andrew to the head of the table and had him stand up, and in front of everyone began to renew a new series of glowing toasts.

The wine that had been drunk wasn’t the only thing causing the glow at the table.

Andrew’s bride was beaming with pride at her man, Mom was radiant with joy at her ‘Good Son” and the party was buzzing again.

The only witnesses to the ‘real miracle’ were the lowly waiters that filled the water casks.

Joshua was the Life of the party and made everyone look good.

This beginning of signs Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and manifested His glory;
and His disciples believed in Him.

Gospel of John 2:11