Wonder

Just realised something this evening at dinner - Asha is now the age when Dad read to us our first 'real' book.

We were on our first vacation as a family - to Chikaldara - housed in an old mission bungalow there - and every evening before sleep Dad would read from Black Beauty. I was swallowed up by the story (tears flowed freely) and started into the magical world of books.

Naturally our happy two-some love hearing stories.

We read from a book tonight - a fictional tale of a boy who lived around the time Jesus did. Tonight's chapter ended on this cliff-hanger: the boy and his friend see a stranger wearing a white robe in the middle of a crowd.

No prizes for guessing who that 'stranger' will turn out to be.

But how sad that the author has such a wierdly stereotypical picture of the European Jesus - with his spotless white robe. I wonder what washing-machine he had access too - or maybe it was a small miracle that he kept doing to keep his robes spotless?

The gospel writer Mark shows things so much clearer - and more challengingly.

Jesus goes in private to a high mountain and is totally transformed - he becomes light and is joined by the two iconic figures of Jewish history - Moses the lawgiver and saviour - and Elijah the prophet and reformer. But even more astounding than this - a voice from heaven declares that 'This is my son, whom I love. Listen to him"!

After this mind-boggling experience we get a ground eye view of how people reacted to him at the time. Coming back down from the mountain "as soon as all the people saw Jesus, they were overwhelmed with wonder and ran to greet him." (Mark 9.15).

With so few words Mark paints such a rich picture. The crowd was overwhelmed with wonder and runs - to greet him. Such a strange word to use - totally against what I would write if I were writing instead of the dear lady who we read tonight. But here it is. The people greet our Lord.

Have you greeted him yet? He deserves to be.