BEHOLD THE MAN!. PART 1.

SCRIPTURE: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives. Luke 11:9-10.

For as long back as I can remember I had been taught that Jesus was my friend, that he loved me, and was always with me. I knew the Christmas story well, and I loved it. Dear little baby Jesus sleeping quietly in the hay was such a beautiful image for me.

At the age of three I learned I was a sinner and that I needed to tell Jesus I was sorry and invite him to come in to my heart. Because I loved little baby Jesus, this was easy for me. I cheerfully confessed my sins to Jesus and was told that Jesus had now come into my heart and that nothing could ever separate me from him. I would even live with him in heaven forever.

I can vividly recall my first Easter impressions. I was four years old, almost five in fact and, I thought, quite grown up. I joined with my whole family to attend the Good Friday service at which there was a dramatized re-enactment of Jesus’ death. It began with the trial before Pilate, and I could not believe it! There stood a person they called Jesus — and to my horror I saw that he was not a little baby!

JESUS WAS A MAN!

I was absolutely devastated! Nobody had told me that this MAN was always with me, that this MAN was my friend! My experiences had taught me to despise men — I really hated them because I was sure they were all like my Daddy. I had no brothers. All my uncles, cousins and only living Grandpa lived far, far away and I did not have any male in my life but Daddy, so had concluded that all men were like my Daddy.

As I watched the Passion Play extremely closely, I became increasingly delighted as the story unfolded. When the soldiers placed the crown of thorns on his head I thought this was just wonderful. Daddy often used to slip down my undies to rub rose thorns and stinging nettles in the area where my undies usually were.This happened when we were gardening together.(He always chose a time when Mum and my sisters were out).I knew how those thorns would hurt Jesus, and it was so good seeing a MAN hurt like this.My only regret was that the thorns were only placed on his head. I wanted to see the soldiers rub thorns under Jesus’ undies.That would hurt him so much more!

The highlight of the whole play was when the soldiers hammered nails into Jesus’ hands.MEN had rough, callused, huge and hurtful hands.I hated MEN’S hands. MEN’S fingers poked in places which caused me such agony.MEN’S hands smothered my face if I did not co-operate and keep quiet.Jesus, a MAN, had been hurt like me, and had his hands nailed.This was a positive, good experience which I thought all men should feel.It might teach them what this really felt like.

As the soldiers stabbed Jesus in the tummy my heart skipped a beat with joy. Daddy often trapped me in the woodshed and stuck something extremely sharp inside my tummy too. I absolutely hated it yet I had to keep quiet. So I completely overflowed with joy to see this MAN, Jesus, being stuck in the tummy. He kept quiet too.

Very soon after this, Jesus died and the Passion Play finished. Everyone in the church appeared somber, quiet and sad. I had no idea why. This was the best story I had ever heard!

As we walked all the way home I jumped and skipped, twirled and laughed. I felt a wonderful freedom. That night I had a marvelously sound sleep. All day Saturday I was bubbly and enthusiastic, because what had happened to Jesus was so good. He deserved it, because he was a MAN like my Daddy. Better still, he was now dead, so he was no longer inside me, nor would he be with me for ever and ever.

My regret was that this all happened to Jesus. I would have chosen my Daddy for the Passion Play! If only my Daddy had been treated like Jesus, my joy would have been complete. Then I would really LOVE Easter!

Underneath all this however, doubts lingered in the back of my mind. Everyone else at church seemed sad at the end of the night. Why was this? Why was I the only happy and excited one there? Surely all little girls had a Daddy like mine! Or did they??? I made a plan there and then to find out.

PRAYER: Dear Lord Jesus, I judged you to be the same as the only man I knew well in my earthly experience. I am so glad you placed that nagging doubt in my mind to set about my search for truth, and to find out if, in fact, all men were like my Daddy. This tiny seed has grown in me to develop an encoring mind, a continued curiosity to search out for myself who YOU are. Please encourage all who read this today, that they too, will search for you, to push on to discover who you really are, and not to be influenced by imperfect people who may represent you in a distorted manner. Amen.

TODAY: Make a list of all the questions you have in your heart about what God is really like. Do not be concerned about how awful they may appear to you. Once you have them written down out of your mind and on to paper, you may be very surprised to discover your true doubts. Be assured that you cannot shock God – God is totally unshakable and unshockable. Then you will have some positive tasks to find God’s reality for yourself. God loves those who dare to question! It gives you, and God, something concrete to work on.

Copyright Julie-Anne Wingate. 2002. All Rights reserved. For comments or responses, please contact