© Alex J MacDonald

It was the worst day of my life, and it was the best day of my life. It was the day I met him for the first time. I’d heard a lot about him of course, most of it not very complimentary, it must be said. Well, you don’t know what to believe, really, do you? Or I didn’t then.

He was certainly popular. People flocked from all over, just to hear him speak. The Preacher, they called him. He told stories. He explained about God. They said they’d never heard anything like it. It was powerful. They knew he meant every word.

Some people were saying he was anti-Semitic. They said they’d heard him say that God was more interested in the other nations than in the Jews. He said this in his home town synagogue. I’m a Jew myself, in fact a leader in the Synagogue, so I wasn’t very encouraged by that.

But there were amazing stories going round about him. First off, there was healing. He was some sort of faith-healer. He even helped a Roman centurion, they said he healed his servant just with a word! But some people were saying it wasn’t by God’s power he healed, it was really by the devil. But the same people were saying he freed people from evil powers, so I couldn’t make sense of that.

And another thing was this, he was always getting into trouble with the authorities over something or other. There was the famous occasion when a lot of our religious experts and theologians were there, and they actually heard him assure a man that all his sins were forgiven, like, all his sins, every sin he’d ever committed! I have that on good authority from people who were there. It’s no wonder that they condemned him for blasphemy. Well, only God can do that, can’t he? But there was a sting in the tail. The man was paralysed, right? And he told him to get up and walk, and he did! Of course, the man might not have been really paralysed, well, that’s what I thought then, but now... Well, anyway...

He was always mixing with disreputable people as well. A friend of mine, well an acquaintance really, Simon, he told me about the time he invited him to his house for dinner and this woman came in. Everyone knew the kind of woman she was. She made a bee-line for Him and created quite a scene seemingly, weeping at his feet and everything. But he just accepted it and said she loved him so much because he had forgiven her so much. That didn’t do his reputation much good with a lot of people. Well, to be perfectly honest, with me too. I did have my position to think about after all.

I suppose that would have been it really. I’m an ordinary sort of man. I don’t like bother, and change, and controversy. And this man seemed to attract controversy wherever he went.

But it was my little girl. It all happened so fast. You know what kids are like. One day as right as rain and the next seriously ill ... and the next ... well, she was at death’s door. I don’t know what it was. No one knew. They couldn’t do anything for her.

I’d have done anything, she was my little girl. She was actually 12 years old, but she was still my little girl. I’d have done anything, I was desperate. I remember saying to my wife, “I’d do anything”. And she looked at me. You know the way women look at you. And I knew. We both knew. There was only one person who could help us. And you know, suddenly all that stuff didn’t matter anymore, all the things my colleagues said about him, my position in the synagogue, what did any of it matter now? I’d have walked over burning coals for her.

I went out to look for him. And at first the news wasn’t good. He’d crossed over to the other side of the lake. Then I heard someone saying, “The Carpenter’s back”, sort of sneering like. That’s when I very nearly lost it. I caught him by his collar and said, “What did you say?” I’ve never seen anyone look so frightened for a long time. I must have looked really wild. Anyway he told me that “the Blasphemer” as he called him, had just landed and there was a big crowd down at the harbour.

I fairly ran down the street and I pushed my way through the crowd. They just parted in front of me. I was the synagogue ruler after all. That’s when I started to slow down. That’s when I started to get frightened. Would he help me? I’d heard about how he’d given a hard time to people like me, old Nicodemus up in Jerusalem, for instance. And there were all these people. Maybe if he did help me, I’d be at the bottom of the list. And anyway it was all foolishness anyway, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t true, it was all spin and exaggeration... and I was going to throw away my reputation for that. I’d be a laughingstock.

I had actually stopped and I was just about to turn away, when two things happened. I saw my little girl, lying on the bed, her face deathly white. And then I saw him. And I did something I’d never done before in my life. I went down flat on my face on the ground in front of him and I just said, “My little girl is dying. Please come and lay your hands on her and heal her and she’ll live.”

No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I felt this hand on me, a surprisingly strong hand, and then I remembered he was a joiner  and he caught me by the arm and lifted me to my feet. And he said, “Come on, let’s go!” I was never so relieved in all my life. I couldn’t stop talking, telling him all about my little girl, as we made our way to my place.

And the people kept crowding round us. Everyone wanted to ask him something or get him to do something. I don’t know how he could stand it.

And then he just stopped and said, “Who touched me?” Well, I thought he’d really lost the plot then. Who touched him?! Who hadn’t touched him?! I didn’t want to say it, but I mean he was surrounded by a crowd! I didn’t have to say anything, as it turned out, because his right hand man, Peter the big fisherman, said what everybody was thinking.

But he says, “No, someone did touch me. I know because power went out from me.” And he kept looking around to see who it was.

By this stage I’m nearly frantic. We can’t afford to waste time. My little girl is dying! Doesn’t he care?

And then this woman came forward. She was really shaking. I recognised her. I’d had to exclude her from the synagogue. Women’s troubles. I had no choice. The regulations were quite clear. Women suffering from bleeding had to be excluded. I was thinking, it’s been a long time she’s had that. It was round about the time my little girl was born & yes, twelve years ago. And I thought, she’s had it 12 years. If she wants his help, can’t she wait just a little bit longer till he sees my girl? She should get to the back of the queue!

And then she fell down at his feet. Just like I’d done a couple of minutes before. And I suddenly felt differently about her. I’d been there. I knew how she felt.

But then something very strange happened. She wasn’t asking for help. She explained who she was and what was wrong with her, how she had spent all her money on doctors who couldn’t cure her. And then she said she came up behind him and just touched the edge of his cloak and she was instantly healed! You could see it in her face. Something had happened.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I was happy for her, of course, but every moment was precious. There was no time to lose. My little girl was dying! Why was he delaying talking to her? She was already cured!

But he was really concerned for her and he told her that her faith had healed her, and she was free from her suffering.

I thought, “Right, let’s get on!” And that’s when it happened. I got hit right in the guts. I don’t mean physically. That would have been nothing. Some of my men came from my house. They just shook their heads and said, “Don’t bother the Preacher any more. Your daughter’s dead.” You know that empty feeling in the pit of your stomach. I was numb, completely numb. It was all for nothing. I’d been such a fool. She was gone. My little girl. All our hopes and dreams for her were all gone. And there was nothing anybody could do about it now.

That was when he looked me straight in the eye and said, “Don’t be afraid. Just believe. And she’ll be fine!”

Now you might think that was the cruellest thing anybody could say to a father who’d just lost his little girl. But you weren’t there. It melted my heart. You might say I was clutching at straws, and maybe I was. But he meant it. And I believed him.

When we got to the house, it was chaos. Everyone was in an awful state. All the aunties and cousins and neighbours were there and they were all howling.

When he could make himself heard, he said, “Why all this noise? The girl isn’t dead. She’s just sleeping.” At that, hope rose up in me again, but it was quickly squashed. They all said, “Rubbish. You don’t know what you’re talking about. We know a dead body when we see it!” That was the weirdest thing. People who a few seconds before were howling and crying their eyes out, were now laughing at him and mocking him. I was glad when he put them all out. And believe me, he put them out all right!

Then we went into my daughter’s bedroom, my wife and I, and the three fishermen, Peter, James and John, and him. I think that was when all hope left me. She was dead.

But he just bent over her and took her by the hand. For a carpenter with big strong hands he did it so gently. And he said, “Get up, little girl!” Just like her mother used to say to her on a lovely summer morning when she’d overslept.

I’ve heard some people talking about miracles and they say this happened and then that happened and so on. It wasn’t like that at all. No sooner had he said, “Get up”, than she jumped out of bed! The colour came back to her face and she looked at him kind of funny and smiled and she walked over to her Mum and I and ... well, the rest is just a blur. I remember that he told us to give her something to eat. He’d raised the dead, but he wasn’t going to feed the hungry, at least not that day!

And then he said a funny thing. He said, “Don’t tell anyone about this!” He was really serious about that. I thought, “Some hope!” A lot of people had seen her dead, and a lot of people were going to see her alive. But it was so like him. Some people said he was a self-publicist, always promoting himself. But that’s not true. He did the most amazing thing ever. He raised the dead. And then he told us to keep quiet about it. It’s like he did those things just because he loved people, even people like me who didn’t deserve it. He didn’t want people to be mesmerised by his powers, he wanted them to be captivated by his love. At least that’s what I think. You’ll have to make up your own mind. And you’ll have to make up your own mind now, won’t you?

Who was he? You know who he was. Jesus, Jesus of Nazareth. I’ll never forget the day he came into my life, the worst of days and the best of days.

Read Luke 8 v 40 - 56