For her next series of blogs Jane Coates has chosen to ‘step into’ the accounts of Jesus’s encounters with different individuals and to re-write the account from the perspective of that person or from a bystander at the scene. The words are clearly not words that you will find in the Bible account itself and so I trust that you will forgive me for taking such license.
Encounters 1 Luke 13 v 10-17:
I see feet and not faces. It has been this way for as long as I can remember. I look down at the dirt, the stone path, the mud, the dirty feet and sandals of those who pass me by. I do not look up to the trees, the birds, the sky, the window, the doorway or the eyes of those who pass me by. I am unseen though a familiar presence, a non-person, nameless, insignificant and of no value. My world is small. Every simple task poses new challenges of pain and inconvenience. I cannot lift, I cannot carry, I cannot reach up high and I cannot contribute. I am invisible yet a target of children’s jokes and laughter. I am humiliated, sorrowful, ashamed, a burden to others and the burden of my shame and weakness has been with me for most of my life-for eighteen whole years. I shuffle silently into the synagogue each Sabbath and hide with the women at the back. I do not want to be seen. My hiding is almost complete as I stand among the flowing robes and scarves.
But I am seen. There was One whose grace and compassion saw me in my hiding place though I could not hope to see His face. I was called forward. It was an invitation that I could not avoid. There was a stunned silence as I was guided to the front to where the gentle voice had called me. I had no expectation, no understanding of what might happen, or desire to meet this new teacher. I was in the familiar place, the safe place – hidden in plain sight.
His words came as a shock. “Woman you are set free.” There was no pre-amble, exchange of introductions, announcement to the gathered or the synagogue leader. Those simple words only and a gentle touch. And I was released. How it happened I cannot say. I only know that my back grew stronger, my weakened and limp muscles were renewed and for the first time I could stand tall. I was straight and I could see faces. Those faces changed and there was a surge of joy, praise to God, gasps of wonder and for the first time in many years I opened my mouth and I publicly praised and glorified God for my release.
The synagogue leader was not pleased. I could see his scowl of disapproval and dismay. For the first time I could read the faces of others. And for the first time I saw His face, the face of Jesus. I was no longer the nameless one, the ignored, the cripple but I was now ‘the daughter of Abraham’. I was significant, valued, part of a community with a contribution to offer. I was changed. But I was not the only one who was changed. The whole synagogue erupted with praise and thanks. I was released, set free, rescued and redeemed. I can never forget that day. But there were others there that day who were also released.