H
e did what?” Zebedee was incredulous.
“It was amazing, father,” James continued. “You should have been there. The man in the synagogue was hopeless. Obviously possessed by some demonic creature.” James was animated. He realized that what he was saying lacked credibility to anyone who had not actually seen what he had seen. “The vile thing actually spoke to him.”
“It called him the ‘Holy One of God,” declared John. James seemed irritated that John would interrupt.
“He spoke to it as if it were a plaything . . .”
“He commanded it . . .” John interrupted again.
“Do you want to tell this?” said his brother, annoyed.
“You’re leaving stuff out . . .”
“Then, you tell it!” said James with exasperation.
“Will the two of you stop acting like children?” demanded Zebedee. “Go on son,” he said to James, “finish your story.” Why he would want these two adolescents among his confidants I will never know, their father thought irritably.
“Well,” James continued, “the evil spirit left the man and he stood as whole and in his right mind as the next man.”
“And then there was Peter’s mother-in-law.” John again. James kept quiet and let his brother relate how Jesus had healed this woman. When he finished, Zebedee sat back in his chair bewildered at his sons. What is happening here? he asked himself.
His wife stood by absorbing every word. She knew Joanna’s mother well. How often had they discussed the accomplishments of their sons together? Her sons, she thought, were magnificent. How fortunate this new rabbi was in having them as his friends and supporters. I must speak to Naomi . . . with that, she left the room unnoticed by her men. In the matter of an hour, or maybe two, the entire village knew of the events of the day.
That evening after sunset the door to Peter’s home crowded with people. They brought to Jesus every sick person in the town, every person perceived as demonic. Jesus healed as many as came to him. That seemed to be the way with Jesus. Rarely, did he interpose himself, or interject himself into the life of another. But if anyone came to him, he was there for them. He gave them all he had to give. No one turned away thirsty for more. As it was spoken of him six hundred years before through the prophet Isaiah:
“He took up our infirmities and carried our diseases.”
The evil creatures inhabiting the bodies of the tortured and demented were expelled at his command. He would not let them speak. They knew who he was. He would not allow his name to be spoken by them. They were inhuman, diabolical, supernatural fiends whose destruction was certain and total. For such a creature to speak his name would only defile the name it spoke adding further condemnation and futility to hideous the thing’s existence. Not allowing them to speak was therefore, an act of mercy, if such a thing can be imagined for creatures of darkness.
