Gideon and his 300

The moon was in full disk and brightness in the southeast. Only a few clouds of veils affected the steel power from time to time when the two men crawled over the top of the last hill spout of the Gilboa Mountains, always trying to crouch in the protection of the few bushes. They knew what she would expect. The skinny and small-grown man, who apparently had the command in the unequal pair of men, looked at his scrubbed dark-skinned companion tellingly and, with his chin, which was only scantly covered with a beard, pointed to a group of terebinths at the foot of the hill and whispered to his companion: “Pura, this looks hopeless, but the Lord has commanded us to go down Yes, it actually seemed hopeless, because below, in the valley of the More Hill, the army of the Midianites was stored over an area of a good 10,000 to 10,000 cubits. If it hadn’t been the enemy army, one could certainly have taken something away from this balmy night and the atmosphere. There were torches everywhere in front of the countless tents. It smelled of recently fried meat and flatbread, and still far behind the top of the hill More you could see in the moonlight the mountain Tabor in the north. But the fact was that here certainly 135,000 with swords, spears and shields armed, quarrelsome warriors of the kings of Midian encamped. For seven years now the Midianites oppressed the people of Israel; but now this army among the kings Sebach and Zalmunna seemed to want to destroy Israel completely, and the Abiesees from the Manasseh tribe first of all, for Gideon came from this generation. Gideon shuddered a little at the thought of sneaking down now, there to the enemy’s camp. But since the angel of the living God had appeared to him personally some time ago and even had spoken to him, the confidence in the goodness and love of Yahweh to his chosen people grew again. In various ways, he was allowed to experience in recent times how his gracious God had slowly and carefully rebuilt his faith through great and small miracles. Today Gideon knew that the Lord was with him, for he felt strangely clothed by the Spirit of God and endowed with confidence. Confidence and belief in God’s work in the struggle against this huge army seemed quite appropriate to him, because what had Gideon had to show, what did he have to oppose this outnumber? The angel of the Lord had assured him, the field worker, that he would give the army of the Midianites into his hand and that he would strike it like a man. So he had pushed into the horn and gathered his family, he had sent messengers through the whole tribe of Manasseh, by Asser, Sebulon and Naftali. And they had come up to meet the enemy’s army. With 32,000 more or less well-trained and equipped men, trusting in Yahweh, whom they had called for their distress, which the Midianites had brought upon Israel, they had gone up to the camp site near the spring of Harod, right at the foot of Mount Gibeon. But now Gideon remembered with a slightly sluffy feeling in his stomach that where once 32,000 were stored, exactly 300 men were still waiting for his return from the scouting of the enemy. Gideon was allowed to admit to himself again that this war would not be about his own honor or manpower. No, nothing else should happen that the living God would glorify himself by his intervention—just as he had already done at that time in Refidim, as Amalek, had come up to destroy the people of Israel passing through the desert. The Lord would be the banner of victory today! 300 waited for his return, equipped with torches, horns and clay jugs. “What a heroic troupe,” Gideon went through his mind, “what a heroic troupe!” Exquisite from God himself, they were ready to embark on his plan, chosen from the 32,000 by nursing their thirst at the source of Harod in a different way than their tribal and popular brothers. They had licked the refreshing water from the hollow hand and not like the others, kneeling, sipping directly from the creek. And these 300 had not even been aware that they would be chosen until God himself gave Gideon the order to separate them. These 300 wanted to satisfy the LORD to humble and smash the army of the 135,000. A wink from Pura, his hunchy servant, tore Gideon out of his mental excursion into the past few hours. Pura, the son of the widowed neighbor, had offered to work as a servant at Gideon’s family just a few months ago so that his mother would not have to sell her fields now during these difficult times of hunger and oppression. And even if Gideon’s family itself had just enough to survive, they trusted in God’s Word that who would help his neighbor in need would not suffer any hardship. So his former childhood friend was now his temporary servant. Only until the time he would be able to take care of himself again. Pura now looked at Gideon questioningly and Gideon nodded to him appeasingly. The two now crawled, pushing themselves as close to the ground as possible, to the group of terebinths at the foot of the hill. The Lord had given him the order to sneak up to the camp to listen to what would be spoken. As soon as the two had crawled close enough to the tents, so that they could just dare to squat a little more comfortably and get a better overview of the situation, even two guards, as if to the sign of an invisible power, began to entertain themselves quietly. The two did not seem quite sober, because their voices sounded substantiated and delayed, but perhaps it was also fear that resonated in the speech: “Eldaa, God be my witness, I dreamed earlier.”, the one raised, just loud enough that the words carried through the wind to the ears of the eavesdropping; “I dreamed, a loaf of barley bread, high as the mountain Tabor himself Everything was destroyed, the whole camp he rolled over and the top side hit the top and the lowest first. And when the loaf came to rest, everything was destroyed and the loaf was no bigger than two hand-widths… what this means?” With a stalling voice, the just addressed now raised: “Hamor, you donkey, this is probably nothing but the sword of Gideon, the man of Israel! God gave Midian and all the camp into his hand! Perhaps we should turn our backs on the army, only where should we flee?” When Gideon heard these words of the two guards actually trembling with fear, he fell from his squatting position forward on his knees, raised his arms to heaven, and sent a silent prayer of thanksgiving to his adorable Lord, the Lord of Hosts. “Away, back to the camp,” Gideon whispered as quietly as possible to his friend, companion and servant Pura. “We’ll get the others, and then we’ll prove this dust bug how right they are. The Lord has given Midian and his arrogant vassals into my hands.” Euphorically, the two snuck back to the top of the hill and ran back the rest of the path in a tight quick step to their small camp. The brothers-in-arms were already waiting uneasy for their return. When Gideon and Pura came to the camp and Gideon looked at his troupe, he had to sigh indignantly again and he thought to himself, “Yes, what a heroic troupe!” For they were also, heroic and full of trust, even so full of confidence that none of the chosen fighters had even questioned in the beginning what Gideon had announced to them about God’s glorious plan. They would only go out with light protective armor made of rough leather and armed with torches, clay jugs and horns. The weapons such as daggers or pikes and swords would leave them behind in the camp and pick them up again after their victorious return. Everything had been discussed before. On a silent hand sign of Gideon, which signaled that everything would proceed as planned, a hundred of the men had chosen Pura around Gideon. Two other divisions, each also 100 men gathered around their appointed leaders. Each of the leaders carried a covert embers light with them in order to be able to ignite the torches of their respective hundredths if they had arrived at their respective starting and intervention location. A tense mood lay over the camp. Only a owl knew something that still had to be told now! In the moonlight of the middle night watch, the faces of the men were seen, partly tense, partly joyful, but all with the determined expression of readiness. Another hand sign of Gideon set the hundreds in motion; at least two of them. Gideon with his men would now allow the small hourglass to run through a total of five times before they would also set in motion, because they had the shortest route to their intervention point. It was the same place as the eavesdropping post before. Arach and Zibja, however, would lead their divisions past Jezreel, west around the enemy camp. They would tread a bow that would surely take the time of half a waking period. Arach was used to fast walking in the terrain, which was concentrated towards a goal, because he was “messenger between the places”, which meant that he announced daily news between the localities. This led to him truly practicing hiking, even at night. What Arach had in terms of condition, Zibja had to offer in terms of agility and nimbleness. He was small and wiry, handy, nimble. A real shepherd who always had his flock in view and held it together. The two hundreds would now come to a hundred northwest of the camp, near the local village of Ofra, and northeast at the foot of the hill More and wait for the signal horn of Gideon, which would surely find a loud echo on the hill wall on this clear night. And then, yes, then they would “attack.” With Gideon’s hundredth in the south, the enemy, or what God would leave of it, would have only one direction of escape, namely, towards the Jordan River. You could almost hear the trickle of the hourglass in Gideon’s hand, it had now become so quiet. A dangerous situation, because the men had been on their legs for a long time and fatigue surrounded some like an early morning fog. But then, finally, the last grain of sand had also been roamed by the last turn of the hourglass, which had given them so much waiting time. Words from a tradition came to mind Gideon, whom his grandfather and father had already passed on. And to his fellow soldiers he spoke these words of God, which Jehovah himself had said to Joshua on the eastern side of the Jordan. He spoke just loudly enough to be able to hope that even the last man of the troupe could hear the encouragement: “Did I not command you: Be strong and courageous? Don’t be frightened and don’t be afraid! For with you is Yahweh, your God, wherever you go.” (*y1) Like a manifestation of encouragement-going into a mood through the throats of the men and on another movement of the hand, it became mucksmäuschenstill again and the men set in motion. Slowly and quietly, the warriors of God moved towards the hill above whose top Gideon and Pura had already crawled before. Then Gideon came a flash of thought, as given by God’s Spirit. If he were to step over the top with his hundred, they would probably not go undetected for much longer, because even such a small number of men would not be confused with a group of trees, even if the moon did not appear. He gave a hand signal, squatted, which all the others did to him without further request. He took out the covert light and ignited his torch. The men did the same to him and in turn ignited each his torch on another. Gideon knew they didn’t have much time now. Trusting in the Lord of Hosts, and that his mind would also touch the hearts and eyes of the other two leaders, he stood up and walked on the hilltop and without further hesitation. His men had probably understood, because they remained squat and seemed to wait for another sign. Gideon now stood alone and merely on the top of the small hill, illuminated by the moon and the upstretched torch. It seemed to take half an eternity for him to stand there until, after a few long-appearing minutes, he saw what he had hoped for almost at the same time both northwest and northeast of the enemy camp: First few, then more and more shining points! The battle could begin. Pura had crawled up to Gideon’s heels to see what his leader was now up to again daring. Gideon just nodded to him and Pura waved to the other warriors. Like a man, they stood up and lined up in a long row to the left and right of Gideon. Gideon now led his horn to his mouth and lips, took a deep breath and pushed in without further ado. A loud, dull call sounded from the funnel of the Aries Horn. Three times long, seven times short, three times long: Tiiieh tiiieh tiiieh — ti ti ti ti ti ti ti — tiiieh tiiieh tiiieh. Like a thunder roar, the sound swelled across the basin and like a twice as loud echo it returned from the northeast and northwest. Now the men of Gideon also tuned into the call of the horns and when the basin was already trembling, after exactly three cycles of the horned sonic, all 300 fighters caught Gideon to invade like a long-practiced choreography: either they smashed their clay jugs at their feet, blew further into the horn or began to scream out of full throat: “For Yahweh, and for Gideon!” Everyone kept their torch stretched in their left hand to the nighttime starry sky. A deafening noise filled the whole valley, so that the shouting, which now rose in the camp of the Midianites, was almost not heard at all. The uncoordinated orders of the sleepy and partly drunken troop leaders, the barking of the carried hunting dogs, the shouting of the completely panicked pack donkeys, all of which were completely drowned out by the roar of the three hundred battles around Gideon. Gideon, himself filled and shaken by an uplifting shudder from the feet to the apex, had the feeling that the heavenly armies were blowing into the horn and coming into the call in a cheering way: “For Yahweh and for Gideon!” A skilled army leader, who knows how to command an earthly army, would probably have looked at the resulting tumult in the enemy camp only a few moments and would then have blown to the final attack to fully use the surprise effect. But both Gideon, and Arach and Zibja, with their hundred men each, did not move from the spot, but cried, blew and smashed further out of body, as the Lord had commanded. A strong wind came from the west. It was a cool, humble-hearing wind. It seemed almost as if the wind was dancing through the tents from the west, because suddenly a fire broke out there in the tent, then there, and then again there, in another place. Within a few moments, several large and small tents were on fire. It seemed that the wind had to storm the order of oil lights in tents. Gideon briefly paused in the screaming and tried to concentrate his hearing on the camp. In the corner of his eye, he could observe that even his men had not missed this extraordinary labor, and with a movement of the hand tried to –signal-to–them–signal, they may continue to shout, but lower their voices somewhat. Focused, Gideon stared at the tents and then briefly closed his eyes to make more space for the hearing. In fact, yes, he was not wrong. Now he heard it more clearly. Swords clinked against other blades, metal against metal, dull shouts, louder screams, yes, pain-filled screams. The soldiers in the camp seemed to be fighting each other! And at that moment, Gideon was very sure that Yahweh, with the cool wind from the direction of the great sea, had sent a spirit, an angel of confusion and chaos with him to the camp. He imagined in his closed eyes how this angel dragged the soldiers by their hair, their beards and the garments, how he drove the almost pitiful guy through the marrow of the bones, how he whispered hatred in their ears and let them scourge wildly by also dragging on the legs and arms of the soldiers. Gideon continued to paint himself how the soldiers accused each other of insulting and pulling their hair. He continued to imagine how one word came up to the other until the confused and frightened men knew nothing more than to hit their comrades: with their fists, then also with the guns. A helpless mess had to reign in the eyes of Gideon, and so it was. The men in the enemy camp attacked each other and beat each other as if the comrades were the worst enemy in the world. As Gideon gradually also increasingly perceived the smell of fresh blood, he opened his eyes again and praised the Almighty God, the lords of the hosts inwardly, and again loudly tuned into the call of his men—not because he thought that he would make a difference now, but more out of humble joy at the greatness and glory of his God. Now Gideon noticed his faithful servant Pura next to him, who signaled with hand signals that he should look to the eastern camp. While the western camp was now burning almost completely lightless and dark clouds of smoke were blowing into the night sky, Gideon realized what Pura wanted to show him.
Individual soldiers had stretched their weapons and fled quickly, but partly also limping out of the camp of ever-increasing devastation towards the approaching sunrise, towards the Jordan River. If they run these cowards. Further north-east, however, Gideon saw something that worried him a little more, for he saw that the royal war banners of the Midianites were also moving eastward. Did these cowardly rulers want to leave the self-selected scene with the first fleas? He could see that behind the banners some foot soldiers had contracted to secure the royal withdrawal. Gideon nodded Pura and now took his horn back to hand, took a breath and blew in it: three times long, pulling out the last push until he ran out of breath. He dropped off, took a deep breath again and uttered another staccato. This was the foregone sign to advance to the camp. At the same time, it was the sign of previously selected, fast foot runners, two each from one in a hundred who would now move out as messengers, to the surrounding tribes of Israel. Although the 300 of the Gideon had caused the destruction of the camp, Gideon had foreseen in his own wisdom that an escape situation could occur and he was sure that it would be better to take up the persecution of the fleeing with a larger army. So messengers ran to the tribes of Naphtali, to Asser, and Manasseh. Gideon had chosen a particularly fast messenger, who had the mission to run up into the Ephraim mountains to align: “Come down, Midian to meet!” Gideon noticed how the night slowly gave way, Tau lay down on the bloody ground in the camp, a light fog formed, the first rays of sunshine colored the eastern horizon as blood-red as the underground.

“However, there were a few things Gideon hadn’t considered…”

Shalom my dear friends.
It’s me again, Harif, you know, Kelita by nickname.

I wrote you a letter with the events of Shavuot after the ascension of our Lord Jesus, the Messiah. But that’s a lot of new moons.

I am writing to you today – in the joyful hope of the letter, may you reach out at the right time – from a small town called Mumba-Aai.
This is in the distant territory of the Kings of the East. The country here in the Hebrew language is called “Hodu.” I didn’t know that it gives so far away from home, so lovely spots and places on God’s creation. So colorful, so loud, so cheerful.
Whereby the cheerfulness often seems quite set up, but this with full enthusiasm.

What I’m doing here? Good question, but easily answered: Shortly after the events of that time, when our Lord Jesus went to heaven, only a few moon runs later, my dear twin brother Thomas had a dream.
To be more precise: an encounter with the risen in the dream. I have not experienced the dream myself, but just as Thomas gave it back to me and the assembled church, it must have been really very impressive:

From a glaring light came two hands, with the cross marks of our Lord, just as He showed Thomas his hands when He stepped into our midst. After that, his body and face became visible, both enlightened by joy and love.

In addition to Jesus, a second person slowly appeared, who probably looked very strange. The man was dressed in robes made of orange and pink fabric, on the head a turban of different colors. He was certainly a head smaller than Jesus, had a skin color like cherry wood or cedar wood and in the middle of his forehead, between his eyes, a red spot was emblazoned.
This spot, however, changed in the short moment that Thomas could look at it in the dream in something like a symbol, as the cross suffered from the Jesus. This man looked unattended to Jesus and sang a song in a language that Thomas did not know; but Jesus gave it to Thomas in his heart to understand. So he could empathize with some lines of the song that the strange man apparently performed for the praise of Jesus:

“There are unbelievers – I chose the true faith.
I was hungry now I was saturated. Sometimes we are sad – but in Him joy Jesus is not far away – He is right next to you and me.
I have Jesus, yes, I have Jesus, I have Jesus Christ in my heart. I have Jesus, yes, I have Jesus in my heart, and He has mine!”

Thomas remembered how his tears were running out in his dream and he wanted to call out to our Lord with joy, but his mouth was closed. Instead, Jesus himself raised his voice and looked at Thomas with pervasive love, not turning clear eyes. He raised his voice, which sounded exactly like Thomas knew her. Full of compassion, of delicately melting intonation in the ears, but still sublime, royal, with the authority of a ruler. He said, “Thomas, my beloved child, I am always near, never far away…” While Jesus spoke a darkness behind the strange man, who tried to approach the man through the light of Jesus’ glory, did not make it. The man also kept his eyes constantly on Jesus.,This is my faithful servant Mehuman, for he is very trustworthy. I love him as I love you, and he loves me. Now take your brother, the younger, your friends who are with you, and your faith, move to the foreign land that I will show you. Wherever I once sent this man’s gender, because they belong to me. And I have chosen you, Thomas, to strengthen Mehuman and his brothers, for I have appeared to him, and he has loved me. So now go and don’t stroll, I have spoken to you!”
No one who heard this, like Jesus himself had spoken to Thomas in his dream, doubted that Thomas was called to travel to Hodu to look for our new brother in Jesus there. But since we could not really guess at that time how long and far and prosperous the way would really be, and above all how great Hodu is, we were happy courage and the church and Peter laid the hands on Thomas and me and our friends and brothers Ataja and Hemdan, and they sent us out to the foreign lands, knowing that the Holy Spirit would guide us on our way.
I could tell you many things that we have experienced on our long and arduous journey through Parthia and Persia, often on watercourses and ravenous streams, often on barren foothills, often starving and freezing, then thirsty again and passing in the heat. But that’s not why I’m writing to you today. But perhaps this opportunity arises again to report on it.
I want to tell you today about thoughts that the Holy Spirit of God gave me when we sat in our tents under the leafy trees by the sea. We had chosen this camp because it seemed to us to escape the midday heat and to seek refuge in the cooling sea breeze, if the wind stood from the west and not from the east.
From the Euphrates Delta we travelled with a merchant ship, whose captain did not assure us to head to many ports before he wanted to reach the port of Mumba-Aai and even asked us to travel free in case we would help him and his meager crew in the ports to load and unload the cargo. Of course, we were very happy to admit to that, because although we did not lack for anything on this trip, but we probably could have hardly afforded the crossing. When we arrived in the desired port after five tough months (because motivated by new workers, the ship’s captain did not let more ports than planned to run to do more business) was like we were entering a whole new world. Everything was colorful, everything smelled different than before in Persia. People looked even more used to for us. The animals, which also use the Hodus as a means of transport, looked even more powerful for us than camels and are probably called elephants. The temples in which the inhabitants of this country worship their so-called gods look even richly decorated than in other cities and countries on our journey. They are actually found in an excess on every street corner; there are also whole temple areas where various images of God are, for they seem to have thousands of these idols, worshipped and worshipped. Everywhere people throw themselves down, sometimes there in front of the temple, then again before that shrine. Even in front of a cow lying on the way and a fruit-clawing fat rat, I saw people throwing themselves to the ground. It was curious on the one hand, but also scary on the other. We pray daily to Jesus that He may also reveal his light and his truth to these people, and that He would use us for it where possible.
I wanted to tell you about the market, sorry that I have a little bit of a way in all these impressions that I carry in me,~~
If I quite remember, the market here is not so different from the markets we and you know so. There is everything you can imagine: goods such as pots, cloth, vegetables, bread, milk, a kind of fermented juice (I prefer not to call it wine), also meat and many different fish, spices almost at every single stand and of course also small hand-carved idols. The whole range is unspeakably colorful, the sweets unspeakably sweet, the spices spread an unspeakable fragrance and the sellers are unspeakably loud when they compete against each other to attract buyers to their market stalls. Everything reminds me a little of the goings-on at the Xystos market in Jerusalem the day before the Shabbat. I don’t know exactly what it was, maybe the completely foreign language, with which we were tried to chat all sorts of goods. We were simply helplessly at the mercy of the sellers’ offer salvos and had to make ourselves understood with hands and feet in order not to be moved to every stand. And if we managed to deny with our hands, the traders showed us with their feet what they thought of not wanting to buy from them. I definitely saw in many eyes of the traders, even if they screamed and offered so loudly, a profound sadness and helplessness. A deep sense of concern spread within me. Then I was reminded by the Holy Spirit of our ever-present God of a scripture from the scroll of the prophet Isaiah, and that is now also the reason why I write these lines to you today, because at the same time words of our Lord Jesus came to my mind again, which he once said to us. There is a great urge in me to briefly report in me how my thoughts work in my heart: Right far behind in the scroll of the prophet Isaiah (1) YHWH raises his voice to call to his people; and I see formally Jesus’ face on the body of one of these merchants of the market, who shouts loudly and clearly with his gentle voice: “To you thirsty, all, come to the water! And you have no money, come, buy and eat! Yes, come on, buy wine and milk without money and without the purchase price!” At this point, the actual dealer was greedy on my wallet, which I wear tied around my neck on the chest. But then I hear Jesus’ voice again, which calls as with the voice of an angel: “Why do you weigh money for what is not bread, and your merit for what does not saturate? Listen to me, and eat the good and your soul feeds on the fat!” More scrolls are approaching me in memory, and I sincerely hope that one of the brothers will actually prepare the work of the life and words of our Lord Jesus, so that his profound and redeeming words will not be lost. A scroll rises and I see Jesus with this Samaritan woman, plagued by guilt and shame, standing there at the fountain of Jacob when he said: “Everyone who drinks from this water will thirst again; but whoever will drink of the water, that I may give him, will not thirst for ever, but the water that I will give him will become a spring of living water in him (2)
Doesn’t that also go into the lives of these merchants, who indeed offer their goods, but have none of it a value for eternity? Water even evaporates unused if we do not drink it or use it for washing. And if the water of Jesus, as He has explained, stands for His Holy Spirit, who wants to refresh and refresh and refresh us at all times and independently of situation and environment, then everyone here in Hodu needs it, right? This one fishmonger comes to mind, who threw more and more different fish into this basket with a basket in his hand and screaming loudly and questioning the passers-by, yes, asking as if he were making a totally good offer. I assume he did that too. But unfortunately, he does not yet know anything about the very best offer, which the living God himself makes, by letting the prophet Isaiah urgently shout three times: “Come!” Come, even without money, your reputation is not important, it is important that you return to me, your God. And does not God himself offer this to the lab of the soul, which in the rite of sacrifice of the old covenant under the law Moses only belonged to Him, namely the fat of the sacrificial animal (3)? What generosity! Nothing is too valuable to him to give it to us when we come to Him. This makes my tears rise, because there is another scroll in front of my inner eye, which is not yet written and I see Jesus on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, close to the city of Capernaum where He spoke to the people who followed Him after this miraculous multiplication of bread to Tiberias and demanded more and more miracles. They did not yet understand what Jesus wanted to show them with the feeding of the many. He did not say, “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will no longer be hungry.” (4)?
And He even explained that He was the true bread of life, not like the manna from heaven, which nevertheless brought death in spite of consumption, but that it was a matter of faith, if one had the spiritual nourishment, Jesus or Jesus. God’s words, receive in themselves and trust in them, one will also have eternal life. Together with Him himself in the glory of God, a place where hunger and thirst, which may plague us in the world, will no longer play any role. In God’s presence, we will have everything in abundance and in abundance. Hallelujal I don’t know if you could follow my thoughts, I just want to say that we often run after things that are only transient and we hang our hearts on situations, objects and experiences that can only please the moment. This joy has usually passed after a short time, fizzles out like a drop of water in the sun. Only joy with and in God is lasting, for it is eternal.
As I now sit here at the entrance of the tent, which Thomas and I inhabit together and let the cooler evening breeze blow around the robe, I enjoy a glass of this aromatic spice tea from the market. I look towards the sunset, amazed how the fiery red sun disk sinks into the sea. When we sat on the shore of the sea in the west of Israel in the evening, we also saw such sunsets and admired God’s great creation. He makes it day and night, again and again, completely according to his good pleasure. And if I consider that we are already on the road for months and have moved steadily to the east, it does not seem to me as if the action of the sunset is further away than on the shores of Israel. Only the people here are others. If I now still consider who actually brought us here at these spots of the world, namely Jesus himself, then it rattles again in my head, as in an old mill tower where grain is ground into the finest flour. Again, a verse of the prophet Isaiah comes to mind, which is immediately after the verse already listed above. There it is spoken of the Messiah, Jesus, “Behold, I have set him as a witness for peoples, the prince and ruler of peoples. Behold, you will summon a nation that you do not know, and a nation that did not know you will run to you because of Yahweh your God, and because of the Holy One of Israel. He made you wonderful.” (*5).
It is really worth reading the whole paragraph if you should get your hand on the scroll. Now we are sitting here in a country that we do not know and whose language we do not understand in the beginning. In my eyes, it is as the Prophet wrote in the name of God. And when I see myself the idol temples and the hunger in the eyes of the people here, I am also sure that they are not indifferent to our God, who became man in Jesus and who believe in him eternal life.
In the morning we also met a Greek trader in the market, who previously lived in the land of Israel for a while. We were really happy to meet at least one person we could communicate with. We naturally came to speak in conversation on the bottom of our journey and we told Gajus, because that is the name of the man we received from Jesus’ mission, namely the Gospel, to bring the good news of eternal salvation to Hodu. And do you know what Gajus told us? The people here in Hodu believe that after their death they would be born again in a different form, whether human or animal or stone. Now, in this earthly life, through good works, sacrifices to the gods, and the manifold reciting of prayer tablets, they try to escape this cycle of eternal reborn. If their so-called karma is good enough, they can even achieve the eternal nothingness that is still above the realms of the gods. As far as I understand this, however, this is probably only possible for the better-offs of society anyway. Different other social classes are probably not at all possible to obtain the favor of the gods. However, I find it so sad that people here do not yet know the living and true God. But I see it that Jesus met the man Mehuman from this nation and He has now sent us to this land to help Mehuman spread the gospel, for it seems that God no longer makes a difference between His people Israel and the nations of the nations. He would like many people to be saved by the sacrifice of his Son Jesus. Somehow understandable, since God has conceived every single person and created him to want to preserve his creation. One thing only worries me: Gajus, the merchant told us that in the very south of the huge country of Hodu there is probably a region around the city of Mandarajya (which is called “City of the Simple”), where, according to the Babylonian captivity, a small part of the tribe of Manasseh is drawn instead of returning to the land of Israel. Gajus thinks that Mehuman may be found there, and that the journey there should be quite arduous and time-consuming. Pray, my friends, who hear these lines and read that we may succeed before the coming of Jesus to our destination to complete our mission there and on the journey there.
But I can already convey good news to you today, directly here from Mumba-Aai, because when we told Gajus the saving message of Jesus’ blood for the eradication of sins, he immediately accepted the word willingly and we could also immediately baptize him in the name of Jesus Christ, the heavenly Father and the Holy Spirit! He has even agreed to join our tour group, which will certainly become a great blessing for us along the way, because Gajus even speaks a little of this complicated language, which is probably called Sanskrit and which is used to speak here. This conversion and this man are clearly a gift from our gracious God!
If we did not have the clear mandate to seek Mehuman, we would certainly dwell a little to become somewhat powerful even in the language and to tell the lost souls here also of the greatest special offer of all time; namely of the special offer that God made to us through the sacrifice of his beloved Son. We may be saved out of pure grace, we can and need not do anything, we need not pay anything, for He has given everything and paid for it on the cross of Calvary! What an offer that we only have to accept, like a gift for the Purimfest! I will certainly think about this topic on our journey for a long time and maybe have the lines I wrote to you today also a little moved to pause now and think about and discuss this unique special offer of God!
If time permits and I should find directions for my lines, I will tell you more about our travels from the distant land of Hodu. Pray for us!
Warm greetings and commanded God,
Your Harif!

(1: Jesaja 55, 1+2)
(2: John 4, 13+14)
(3: Leviticus 1,8; 3,3; 4,31; 7,3 →7,22-25) (
4: John 4, 35)
(*5: Jesaja 55, 4+5)

Shavuot is Pentecost

I woke up from a light, restless sleep. A not to be classified feeling was still in me, something between foreboding and a whisper that belonged: “No longer distant, the first ray of the sun, soon the night is defeated. The spirit of the saint floats in the world; through a fine veil of absolute calm, beyond seeing, hearing and tasting, he gives an idea of the completely different, of the incomprehensible.”
Although we had been living and sleeping here in the Obermachen for several weeks, where our Lord Jesus Christ also celebrated the Passover with us, we had not quite got used to the morning turmoil in the alleys of Jerusalem, but on this day it was different again. Sleep, real sleep, had been unthinkable for weeks anyway. It was Shavuot, the so-called feast of the week, 50 days after the great Sabbath to Passover. It is one of the three great pilgrimage festivals of the Jews, which I also belong to, in which every male Jew was obliged to make a pilgrimage to the temple in Jerusalem. After the crowds to Passah had just left the city for the most part, they had been pouring back into the city for days now.
My name is Kelita. No, actually my name is Harif, but everyone calls me Kelita. Harif means “preterm infant” – I’m supposedly only born three labors in front of my younger twin brother Thomas, but no one really knows that, because actually nobody knows so well … Oh, let’s leave it, it doesn’t matter. My brother has called me, since we stood next to each other on a mountain slope as children, he on a stone and I downhill from him, “dwarf”, so: Kelita, although I am actually almost a whole finger width bigger than him. Thomas is otherwise rather reserved, sometimes shy, almost despondent, while friends claim I myself am rather bold.

Thomas, however, was called to the “inner circle” of the disciples of the traveling preacher Jesus of Nazareth a little more than three years ago, but I always went with them, but always stayed in the background. But Jesus is not actually the one I want to tell you about, me or Thomas. Rather, I would like to reflect to you with my words what happened after the Lord Jesus’ resurrection and ascension. Of course, I can only do that in the beginning, because a lot of what a person has experienced cannot put into words. I wish you had been here with us at the time, it was so unspeakably fantastic! If I hadn’t experienced it myself, I couldn’t believe it either.

Ascension? What do I mean by that?
No, no kamikaze action of the celots (*celots wanted to eliminate the Roman rule by force). Simon, one of the disciples, was called “Zelot” among us disciples. Jesus had explained it to us all on the basis of the Torah, the law book of the Jews: He would go back to his Father in heaven for a while to prepare us a place so that we, who we believe in Him as the promised Messiah, the Redeemer, could also come to him. And when we were on the Mount of Olives with him 40 days after Jesus’ resurrection, he talked about sending us another guardian who would be with us forever, the Holy Spirit of God. He also exhorted us to go into all the world – have you heard this, into all the world … – to proclaim His gospel of salvation out of grace. Then he was miraculously carried away before our eyes by something like clouds. At that time, however, we finally knew what to do, because after the crucifixion and the death of Jesus, we were a little like sheep without shepherds: everyone was wandering around, anxious and indecisive.

We went back to the city of Jerusalem and stayed there, as Jesus had commanded us, waiting to be done with the strength from above, whatever that could mean. When that was supposed to be, of course, nobody knew so exactly. That was perhaps also a reason why many of us could not really sleep. No one wanted to oversleep that moment.

So it was the first day of the week when I woke up from restless sleep in the morning. Seven weeks and seven Sabbaths to Passover. A cool breeze passed through the upper room, followed by the delicious smells from the bakeries in the alleys. Already the whole last days the bakers of the city seemed to bake only one thing, namely cheesecake! These are honey-spiced, palm-sized, fine flour-baked cakes from a dairy product, which we call “quark” here in Israel. Some also put some orange rubbing or even raisins in, but that should be outlandish in your eyes, as I can imagine. You must know that Shavuot is also called “Matan Torah”, the feast for the gift of the Torah, that is, the tablets of the law, because some scribes want to know that on this day Moses received the tablets of the law on Mount Sinai from the hands of God himself. Among the Jews, it is also said that the law is like milk and honey, therefore the cakes. I always thought God had said that the land of Israel itself was like a country where milk and honey flow … confusing. Yes, and because we Jews would not be Jews if we did not create an additional commandment for everything, there is also for Shavuot or Matan Torah this, but unwritten and rather funny, commandment that every Israeli, be he young or old, must eat at least 5 cheese cakes. Five is the number symbolizing the grace of God. Another special feature could be seen for several days now in the streets of Jerusalem: The people decorated their house fronts, especially those of the synagogues, with flowers and foliage. For one thing, this is a sign of thanksgiving to God for the harvest, for Shavuot is a harvest festival. On the other hand, flowers and leaves stand for the fact that we see in the Torah the “tree of life”.

Jesus, to come back to the wonderful topic
Which is why I tell you all this, he said, that we should be in the city until we have received the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of God, or, as others say, the eternal Spirit. I was a little surprised at the time, because I was also there when Jesus, the risen Lord, first appeared to us in the upper chamber. At that time he breathed on us and said to us, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” That was like a tepid spring wind was roaming through the room, I had goose bumps all over my body. It smelled of aloe and myrrh with a slight cinnamon note, on the other hand it was fresh and clear and somehow … mysteriously supernatural. I, and also the 50–60 other disciples present, reported it, felt so awake … so … ready to receive, as if something had sharpened my senses; all fatigue, even all fear and all doubts had disappeared. Because of this experience, I just wondered what kind of spirit we should wait for, if Jesus had already breathed the Holy Spirit into us. I don’t understand it today, but it would also be very little divine if I could understand simple scribes of God’s works. But little by little, over the years I got some mosaic stones added to the blurry picture.
When I was from my restless sleep at 1. Shavuot, after Christ’s ascension, woke up there in the upper room, I had the feeling, the foreboding that anything could happen on this Shavuot. The upper chamber that Omar Schelumiel, whom everyone called only “the talkative” (for here was the name program), kindly provided to us since the Passover, was already well filled with people from the night’s rest, with about 40 disciples, who also gradually awakened and curiously stretched out their heads under their coats. It almost seemed to me that I was not the only one this morning with a certain premonition. As for Omar and his freedom to provide us with the upper room, I can only say what I have heard: on the one hand, his not too secret love for our Lord Jesus and also some kinship with Joseph Ben Jakob, the foster father of the Lord, was his not too secret love for our Lord Jesus and also some kind relationship with Joseph Ben Jakob, the foster father of the Lord, which played a role.
I don’t know how you actually imagine this upper room by Omar Schelumiel or have presented it so far.

You probably think of a medium-sized room with a table in the middle and some loungers around it. But this was not the case; tables and loungers were actually only set up on request, i.e. if necessary. Otherwise, up to 120 people could sit in the hall, standing or sitting on the floor. And I can tell you, at our evening praises and thorales and prayer meetings in honor of the Lord Jesus, the room was often overcrowded. Since we no longer hid, more and more people dared to visit us, also to ask the disciples of the Inner Circle about Jesus and his teaching. So I was not particularly surprised that on this first day of the week, well-known faces, passionate followers of the Lord Jesus, came together to form a harmonious community at the very beginning of the morning (that is seven o’clock according to the Roman time). It had become known that, exactly on the first day of the week, we came together to break bread and praise and worship, the day that Jesus Christ rose from the dead. Perhaps you know the day better under the Roman name “Day of the Sun”. I was so glad to see many of our siblings in the faith. All had these bright eyes, the glory of our Creator seemed to want to break out of them. There were Hymenaeus, Judah, Sered, Sia, Tertius, Mary – the wife of Alphaeus –, Salome, Baruch, Shefa-der Kahle, of course also Luke the doctor, Miriam, Mary – the mother of the Lord –, his brother James and and and and and and

When the room filled up, harmony and joy were always tangible. Everyone brought, as he could, something in food, for the meal together after the service, Peter had provided several loaves of fresh bread and John had again not allowed himself to get the wine in fresh hoses – both for the master’s meal. It was a colorful hustle and bustle, there was the slave like the doctor, the maid, the incognito-run Roman soldier with his Israeli wife, all races and classes together, united under one roof.
Peter, who had taken a stand with the other disciples of the inner circle at the head of the hall, was clearing his way around to read from the book of Ruth, according to good Jewish custom, and the first heads turned to them, the murmur gradually sent … suddenly a roar from the sky rose, as if by a mighty wind, penetrated through the open windows into the whole house of the Omar This wind was really piercing, and I mean that literally. He penetrated through those present, and not like a cold, wet autumn wind, but it reminded me of the breathing of our Lord Jesus, only much, much more intense, even more refreshing. Every pore of the body started to tingle, everything got warm, then fresh and warm again.

This had to be the fulfillment, the baptism with the Holy Spirit that Jesus had announced. I saw, and so it must have been with myself, that something like tongues, divided as by fire, settled on the assembled community, upon each individual. Then it became turbulent; if there is such a thing, it was, “orderly turbulent”, because the whole church talked about each other, and I had the feeling that there was talk in every language of the world, and others. The brothers and sisters flocked to the street in front of Omar Schelumiel’s house and preached the gospel of Jesus Christ, each in the language given to him by the Holy Spirit. The enormous roaring had not gone unnoticed by the neighbors and passers-by, crowds poured in. People were amazed, amazed, almost horrified. I still have it in my ears, as one inquiringly shouted, “Are you not all from Galilee?” Why do we hear you everyone in our own language, when we come from different countries and regions … from the southern coast of the Caspian Sea, from the media, Elam, Mesopotamia, Judea and Capadocia, Pontus and Asia, Egypt and Libya, even from Rome and the distant islands, and we hear you all praise and praise the deeds of God … what will this become?” There were, of course, scoffers, as always, when something happens that no one can quite assign. People whispered offside, others running along in front and laughing: “Haha, too much wine from the southern slope, haha, haha!” You can certainly only imagine what was going on on the street: a wonderful mess of radiant, ghost-spooken faces and astonishing, perplexed faces.

I don’t know how long it all went and how exactly rest came back to the crowd of people. I only saw Peter, my brother Thomas and the other ten disciples of the “Inner Circle” standing together in one place and heard Peter raise his deep, sonorous voice and give an explanatory sermon, which was eager for all those present and again astonishedly followed. Unfortunately, I don’t have such a good memory as our dear brother Lukas, the doctor. But I know that Luke wrote an account of the work of the apostles to his friend Theophilus. The report was named “Acts of the Apostles” at some point, and I think that Luke wrote down the whole sermon there word for word. I thank our God for blessing Luke with such memory. It is really worth reading the sermon if you have this book. It is very informative and Peter has well explained how the prophetic words have come true. Surely the Holy Spirit was at work here too. I mean, Peter was a fisherman, how else could this guy have explained everything so fine? But I still remember verses that the prophet Joel once wrote, which Peter also quoted. They’re like carved. Right at the beginning of the events, the same verses went through my head: “And it shall come to pass in the last days, says God, that I will pour out from my spirit upon all men; and your sons and your daughters will prophesy, and your young men will have visions, and your elders will have dreams; and upon my servants and my maidservants I will pour out of my spirit in those days, and they will prophesy.”

That was exactly what happened. Later I learned that many, many people who are imbued with the Holy Spirit have had dreams and visions and have prophesied many. I found it particularly beautiful at that time that one can hear from the verses that God makes no distinction between men and women, old and young, Israelis and the nations, Jews and Gentiles … But this knowledge gradually came and we had to learn to implement this knowledge.
I want to come to an end slowly with my account of this wonderful Shavuot, my dear friends. But one thing I have to tell you, for this Shavuot in the year of death, the resurrection and the ascension of our beloved Savior, the Messiah Jesus Christ, was truly something very special. One could almost say that it was like a day of the birth of the church of Christ.

Looking into the crowd that listened to the brother Peter, I could see in addition to the astonished, the radiant and the doubting faces also deeply affected people. The air was for cutting when Simon Bar Jonas had ended. From the crowd you could hear muttering and moaning until a certain man raised his voice. He was seen to have the sermon met his heart. He asked what many of those present probably asked themselves, namely what he and the people should do. Those who had now understood that the Jesus whom they had crucified, who rose from the dead, ascended to heaven and sat only to the right hand of God, was their promised Savior. Tears were seen running down his face, as if his guilt was breaking out. Peter’s answer was simple and impressed those present so much that I too want to take the time to write the words thicker: Repent, and each of you is baptized in the name of Jesus Christ, for the forgiveness of sins, then you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

I saw a lot of people who shook their heads, turned away, even walked away, but even more of those present fell on their knees and shouted to the God in heaven for forgiveness. With many tears, but also with much joy for the saved souls, the first church grew so much on the day that it was then started to meet for the services in different houses. It is said that there were about 3000 souls who were saved that day. But also the number of those who went to the temple daily to the glory of Jesus to spread the Gospel increased by the day. Many people were baptized on the same day, and it can be rightly said that this release of the Holy Spirit brought about something in people. They somehow changed positively; they became more joyful, loving, peaceful, more patient, kind, kind, more faithful, more gentle, could master themselves better … All this did not happen immediately, not from now on the same, but little by little one saw these changes in people. A brother of the second generation, you may also know him, Paul by name, called these events to the man who received the gift of the Holy Spirit quite appropriately: the fruit of the Holy Spirit. Oh how glorious, I rave again and again when I notice in myself how the Spirit of God guides me, how he works and weaves in me, reminds me of Jesus and his words.
So it is no wonder that the new church of Christ often, actually daily, met for prayer and worship, divided everything and gave it all away with joy and rejoicing heart also to the needy. It was simply exuberant, overflowing love at work, the love with which Jesus also met his fellow man: selfless and sincere, not jealous, not too important to himself, unbittered, pure, sacrificial. To approach Jesus himself in his nature, I see as not possible, we are still trapped in our old, sinful body, but he was sinless. But I see on many siblings and also on me how they stretch and stretch to become like Jesus, with great zeal and determination.

Oh dear ones, I would continue to tell and write to try you even more to infect with my euphoria, but you only wished for a short summary of what happened, and so I also look at my almost empty ink barrel and command you to the blessing of our triune God. May you, even if it are turbulent, even if the world may stand head, give space to the good spirit of God, the Spirit of truth in you, which you believe in the name Jesus Christ. And if in your midst there should indeed still be someone who does not feel the work of the Holy Spirit in himself, I cordially invite him to accept the grace of Jesus, the forgiveness of sins through his blood, and to lead a life with Jesus through the Holy Spirit into himself.

I don’t promise too much when I say, Jesus? It’s worth it!

Amen. Author Christian Irle 🦁🦁 to reach also by email:

Ariel at lionofjudah.info – we will be happy to forward your message.

But to all who received him, he gave them the right to become children of God […] (John 1: 12)

“You will find me and find me. For if you seek me with all your heart, I will be found of you, saith the Lord, and I will turn your captivity.” (Jeremiah 29, 13f.)

This song was probably written in the JVA in Celle in 2019 and is one of my early songs whose lyrics I almost did not change.
It was created in the smallest detention room I have met, narrowed down, new on a new station, but with a wonderful view after two years I could enjoy almost no view to “outside”.
This new view to the outside sparked me again my “innate” wanderlust. On the one hand satisfied and happy about this extended view, on the other hand torn by the desire to walk in front of the walls. And deep down in me the desire for a person to whom I could entrust myself without fear that he could condemn me, because I was already sentenced, to life imprisonment and of myself for many of my missteps in my life.
Are there people you can fully trust with who won’t disappoint you?
The Bible says that one should not place one’s trust in people, but yet we are communicative creatures who want to exchange with their environment.
The refrain speaks of a little courage in me, because I wanted to communicate and I had found a new means of communication for myself: singing and ukulel playing, how wonderful.
I still like to play the song after the years, because yes, I still want to ask for ears, who listen to me, I want to continue to turn my interior outwards, through my singing, I do not want to stop dreaming that there is a person who is not afraid of me, because I am aware that I carry a thick package with me, a package of the past; and from this the formulation of hope, because hope dies What I didn’t know very well at the time is the fact that this friend, who wants to be and IS close to me, was already there day after day and waiting for me.
Yes, in prison, everyone probably starts praying, even if they may not want to admit it. If you don’t blow away reality with crushing chemical drugs, you get to the point where you have to deal with yourself, and that’s a good thing! What we bring in prayer towards heaven is certainly very individual. My problem is often that I can’t open up well and often retreat when it gets too much for me. I used to wash away this “shortcoming” with alcohol, but at the beginning of my prison career I had never decided to drink alcohol again, and here in prison this works really well, if you are not totally jaded and want to continue on illegal ways. So my prayer was that I wanted to find strength to be able to master the daily difficult, demanding situations on my own strength; however, I did not know our wonderful God too well, who, as is well known, would like to show his strength in our weaknesses (2. Corinthians 12, 9). But in me came again the awareness of the necessity that man needs someone to whom he can confide, someone who always wants to be with him, that best friend, to whom one, to whom I could trust absolutely blindly without having to worry, that he wants to turn me out of my life story the proverbial rope.
Today I know… this is what I wrote in Strophe three back in 2019 and at some point in the course of my development in the relationship with and to God in Jesus Christ changed by a “power” that is always there, to the tangible God who is already waiting in the morning when I wake up so that he can show me his love and can accompany me lovingly through the day. I have learned that people can never, never be as sincere and forgiving as our heavenly Father, can never be as close as my Savior and best friend Jesus Christ, with whom I also sometimes struggle, but who does not quarrel with me, but always wants to lead me on his right path. He doesn’t just want to be by my side every day, he’s by my side every day whether I realize it or not, whether I put my focus on it or not. He is eager to hear my new songs on a daily basis, he is eager to write new songs with me, to play ukulele with me…
Yes He also listens daily to what I put before the heavenly throne, “needs” and annoyances, even He always listens and acts according to his wisdom in giving and not giving. In the last line I write that He is not afraid of being with me either; but the thing is rather that He invites that we, that I have no fear, oppresses us and me, is oppressed, moved, in positive and negative, to bring to Him so that He can take care of us, and give us a peaceful, quiet heart that rests in Him.

Thank you Lord Jesus Christ, my friend near me, thank you not only for being a fantasy but the truth
and the life, the light in my life, thank you for being the living God who cares for his people!

“For I know exactly what thoughts I have about you, says the Lord: Thoughts of peace, and not
of suffering, to give you a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29, 11)

Or: The slightly different Christmas story

I’ve been walking around the city all day.
It’s not easy for a twelve-year-old like me who decided to live without his parents and on the street. Certainly not in the case of snow.

And certainly not at Christmas.
Everywhere it glitters, everywhere it glows, everywhere it smells. The best place in such a day is the Christmas market around the city church: The sellers let a cocoa or a buck sausage jump on Christmas Eve if you put on the right, suffering view.

Earlier when I was an even smaller child we went to church more often on Christmas Day, especially on Christmas Eve. That was always great.
But we haven’t gone on for two or three years.
My father says he has no desire for church, it is always so stressful at Christmas anyway. He does not have to give himself the stress, for nothing and again nothing, as he says.
Well, I don’t care, I’m not going home anyway, they don’t miss me anyway…
If it’s clear what happened to me earlier, it’s blatant: I wanted to go to the city church to warm up a little. In addition, I used to find it so beautiful there, with the fir tree and all the candles, the beautiful, cheerful songs and the nativity play and such.
There’s the pastor at the door, looking down at me, and up again and down again and pushing me away from the front door…
“For such a dirty snotty angel like you, we have no place here today.”
Those were his words. And then he closed the door in front of me. Cheeky!

Sadly I sat down on the stairs in front of the door and wondered if there would be another place somewhere else where I could warm up now.
It had become really bitterly cold and the snow drifting was getting worse.
I stared at my broken shoes, pulled my legs up to me and tried to warm me. From the inside of the church now sounded like mockery the first notes of the Christmas band:
“You little children are coming…oh come all…to the nativity scene comes…in Bethlehem’s stable…”

Earlier when the choir sang this, I kind of liked the song better.
To make matters worse, the light over the door of the church went out… probably a switch-off motion detector. So I sat there like a bunch of misery and asked myself for the first time on this day what I was doing in this place, it was Christmas.
I felt a little like this one girl in the fairy tale that my mother used to read to me…something with matches and so…with the difference that I had no matches with me to warm me a little, not even a lighter.

Suddenly I meant to be able to see the moon in the sky behind the thick snowflakes, but then… it seemed to me more like the sun and at the same moment I felt very warm and slightly internal.
I was really confused, because the sun actually rises in the morning.
I got up and wanted to find out where this, always brighter and more cozy, light would come. I then saw something like a bright star sparkling and shining directly above one of the stalls on the church wall, where mulled wine had been sold at noon.

I was amazed and very cautiously a little closer. I rubbed my eyes and my nose too. The closer I got all the more I had the feeling it would smell like horse manure or something, but where?
It was really a little creepy I have to confess, even if I’m already twelve and I’m actually afraid of nothing. But my curiosity was greater than the horror factor and I went closer to the booth until I could see that any rioters had probably torn down the front of the stall to pour straw and manure into it…and put a donkey and a sheep in it?
No, that couldn’t be. Somehow the stall suddenly reminded me of the little nativity scene, which I had previously seen at the front of the altar of the city church and always thought so great…just somehow…ten times bigger!
Now I had to rub my eyes again, because I actually meant to see a man and a woman kneeling on a crib. And the light of what seemed to me like a star fell into exactly this nativity scene and became brighter and brighter!

I stood there, and then I did what every reasonable boy would have done in such a situation, which completely overwhelmed him: I cleared my throat, gathered everyone’s courage and asked, “Hello? Is there anyone there?”

Now it became really strange, because I felt that something like a warm hand would push me closer to the nativity scene from behind. I felt a voice around me that spoke to me and it was the most glorious and cordial voice I had ever heard. She said to me:
“Shalom, my beloved boy! Is there no room for you in the church?”

Contrary to your assumption, I did not panic, I was no longer afraid and somehow I was not confused but somehow no longer. I felt so much peace and joy in me as I had never experienced in my life.
But I hadn’t found my otherwise a little loud manner yet and so something stuttered like: “What…uka…how…he…are you…uh you, you, this…?”

And the same loving voice said to me again:
“Do not be afraid! It is I, Jesus Christ, the Son of Almighty God.
I came to you people in this world to deliver you from your sins.”

Despite all the confusion and astonishment, despite uncertainty and question marks in my face, I got insight and somehow I could grasp a clear thought and I asked, “Jesus? But if you didn’t have to be in this church, it’s Christmas!!!”
The answer now came with some delay and in this peaceful, glorious voice lay at once some sadness, no bitterness, but sadness:

“You know my beloved boy, it’s almost like 2000 world years again today. At that time I came into my world, I came to my property, but the world did not take me in.
I came into the dark as a light, but people preferred to stay in the dark.
Nowadays, people put so many things at the center of their lives and the center of the celebrations they say for me to celebrate that I just have no place in their hearts anymore…”

I was very terrified at the words that Jesus’ voice spoke to me and stood wordless before the manger!
“Come,” said the voice to me, “we want to go in together and I want to explain to you what I just told you.”
Suddenly I felt my hand resting on my left shoulder, which had already pushed me to the nativity scene earlier and my inner peace and the peace in me became even greater than before. I felt so light, almost like I was floating.

All of a sudden I was in the middle aisle of the church. I saw the band playing in front of the altar, where the nativity scene was otherwise set up. I saw the band play, but in my ears I heard something more like a quiet angel choir. The people in the rows of seats partially looked at the floor, which, but they looked forward, sometimes rocked very energetically with their heads. On the other hand, no one seemed to pay attention to me, I’m not even sure if people could even see me.

Now the voice, which I had identified as the warm voice of Jesus Christ, spoke to me again: “Look at my dear boy, I will now show you the hearts of men so that you can recognize them.”

I wondered what this could mean, but I understood very quickly when I looked around. When I drew my attention to a person, it was as if I could look inside, see what moved their hearts and literally heard what their thoughts were thinking.

There was a man who was perhaps as old as my father, on which my eyes were stuck and I looked into his heart and I saw his thoughts:
“Oh man, that I have to give myself this every year here with the church, hopefully this circus will be over soon. At home, I could already treat myself to a shot of whiskey that I will give myself afterwards…”

I saw a woman sitting next to him and looking into her heart.
“Heaven gives that Heinz does not give himself whiskey again afterwards. I hate it when he drinks, he will only be aggressive again… but drag me to this miserable service beforehand, this hypocrite!”

I felt grief rising inside me. My gaze wandered melancholy further and stuck to a little boy who kept his head slightly crooked. I looked at his heart and it thought,
“Well, the band is still cool, but I thought it was even cooler than we had here for Halloween the Harry Potter service. At least that was more realistic than this story they brought today.”

Harry Potter? Worship? A strange feeling came up in me. Was that true? What did Harry Potter have to do in church? I

In the back row sat completely in the corner an old lady, even older than my grandmother. She had lowered her head and her hands folded as if she were praying, but I looked into her heart and saw dark, accusatory thoughts:
“Jesus, born; peace, where? You took my husband in the war and left me alone with my children. And stupid as I am, I still go to church every week, even though I have not believed in a loving God for a long time.
Not even my children come to me with the grandchildren for Christmas, no one sees me, where is this love?”
I saw a tear running down her cheek and tears rose up inside me, because I felt so much bitterness in her thoughts, felt so much accusation…and I myself felt powerless.

At that moment I heard a clearing from the altar.
The pastor of the church had probably climbed to the pulpit. I looked forward to him and saw his heart and it permeated me at the same moment a cold shiver!
The heart said, “Now fast! It is a good thing that I was able to swipe the sermon together for ten minutes, is the same every year anyway and the people want to go to their roasts and I have to hold two other church services today.

If I had known before my studies that Christmas is so stressful… well, and it is scientifically not even proven that all this has happened that is in the Bible, after all, it is only a book that was written by people and people make mistakes. It is absurd to tell of a virgin birth, where the word for virgin can also be translated to young woman. But eyes to and through, all for the good feeling in the cold season, blessed be God.”

Was that really what the pastor was carrying in his heart?
I mean, I am only twelve years old, but I had understood that Jesus Christ is true, that he was born of the Virgin Mary… after all, he had just confirmed it to me.

After this experience, I closed my eyes, I didn’t want to see any more hearts and experience what these hearts think. The tears ran down my cheek.

“It’s good my beloved boy that you see what the hearts think.”
I heard the voice again with my eyes closed, this warm warm voice, I still heard the grief in it, but it was a warm sorrow, something like an understanding grief.

“Love among men is cold, but above all they are turning away from me, their God loving them. This makes me so infinitely sad because I love and will always love all people equally.
Unfortunately, people don’t want to know much about me anymore, they build on their own abilities, no longer believe that there is a Creator God, trust only science.
My boy, I knew even before the foundation of the earth that this would happen and believe me what you have seen is nothing in contrast to what I see in people’s hearts every day.”

Again, a pleasant warmth surrounded me while the voice was speaking and it felt very bright around me, although I had closed my eyes I could notice. I easily opened my eyes and found myself in the complete darkness; only a warm bright light was pointed at me like a spotlight. It felt like I was still in the church, I couldn’t see the people on the benches anymore.

There appeared in front of me suddenly and out of nowhere a mirror and I saw my own reflection, but in clean clothes, with brand new shoes on my feet and freshly styled.

“Now to you my beloved child,” I heard Jesus’ voice, still equally warm-hearted as before, say to me. I knew what was coming now.
“Now look into your own heart and tell me what you see!”

I reluctantly looked towards the mirror, I didn’t feel like I could resist… I had to look.
And I saw my heart! I couldn’t have a word over my lips.

“No, my beloved child, you don’t have to tell me what you see, I already know it, but I want to tell you what you see.”
I felt like I was looking at pervasive eyes, as pervasive as my father’s when he blamed me for the bad grades or the broken phone, only that the eyes that penetrated me now felt loving and merciful.

“My beloved child, do you know why your father no longer wants to go to church with you on Christmas Eve?
It’s broken by the pre-Christmas stress… which you’re making him!
Have you ever looked at your wish list?
I was lying in a feeding manger at the time and you would like to get the whole world on my birthday.
Your father works hard and tries to fulfill every wish, only unfortunately he is after work and his shopping trips for you, and by the way also for your mother, so done that he only wants to rest.

When was the last time you offered to help your parents prepare for the party?
When was the last time you complied with your parents’ requests to at least tidy up your room or walk the dog?
Look at you in the mirror: You don’t miss anything, and you’re not ready to do your part, but prefer to get out of your parents’ house one day before Christmas to…to actually do what exactly?”

I didn’t understand the situation anymore, I didn’t… I looked into my heart and was horrified. I felt well protected in the presence of Jesus’ voice, warm, surrounded by his love. And yet… yeah, I think he was holding me a timpani.

I can’t give you exactly what he said but it shook me in the marrow and leg and was so loving on the other hand…
He held the timpani right for me, I saw that and at that moment the heartfelt desire came up in me to run to my parents and to ask them for forgiveness for everything I have to do them good and help them.

In Sunday school, the aunt Katja once told us that there are commandments in the Ten:
I want you to honor your father and mother, I must have forgotten that.
A deep, deep feeling of guilt came up inside me and I looked around desperately.
Now the mirror was no longer there and the next moment the light went out, which just seemed to me. The pleasant warmth, however, remained.

I felt that something was given to me, in each hand an object and suddenly appeared in each of my hands, which I now held out in front of me a little light, like from a candle and when I had got used to the light of light again I saw that there were actually candles in my hands, each a, quite wonderful fragrant candle.

“My beloved child, it’s good that you want to go home.
It is good that you have seen the transgressions in your heart and regret them.
But it is also very good that you remembered the nativity scene in your city church at Christmas, which serves as a symbol of my Incarnation.
It’s good and wonderful that we’ve finally met in person.”

The warm and delicately pervading voice of Jesus now had something really solemn!
“I’m all for you to go home now, to your parents and do better than you did before. Would you like to promise me that today, you, my beloved child from the heart and forever?”

Oh, I would like nothing more than that to the Lord Jesus.
This encounter had shown me how needy I actually was and how little grown-up I am with my twelve years.
And even before I could smash Jesus a joyful >yes<, I noticed something like a kiss on my forehead and now only heard this wonderful voice like a quiet whispering:

“Do well my little swheet. I love you and will never leave you, and even if you may no longer hear me talking to you loudly, I always want to be with you, I am always with you when you let me.”

At that moment something pulled very massively on me and I was pulled away from the place where I was, still the smell of the burning candles in my hand in the nose. When I woke up I was lying on my bed, in brand new clothes, fresh and clean and hairdressed I felt and I heard the knocking on my nursery door getting more and more energetic.
“Aaron,” I heard my mother shout, “have you already fallen asleep again?
We wanted to go straight to the church for the Holy Evening service.
You know how much trouble I had to convince Dad that we were going back this year.”

I jumped up, still a little disoriented… was it all just a dream? Strangely enough, I still had the smell of the burning candles in my nose and when I looked around drunk I saw two brand new candles standing on my desk.
One with the inscription: › Merry Christmas my beloved mother and the other with the inscription ›For my beloved Christmas Grinch Dad‹.

I looked around again in my room, but everything else seemed as I knew it. Then I felt a very gentle pushing on my back, which pushed me to my room door and a pleasant feeling passed through me from top to bottom.
I started laughing and cried out, “I’m coming, I’m coming, and I have to tell you something great, you’ll never believe me in my life, which I have just experienced…”

After I had pressed the Christmas candles in my surprised mother’s hand and had put a kiss on my even more perplexed father on the cheek, brought the garbage down and with the dog a special round had actually gone for the first time in years on Christmas Eve with the whole family in the church.

And believe me, that evening I took a special look at the people and wished everyone I met a loud and very cheerful “Blessed Christmas.”

And I wish you the same thing!

Whatever was, what is, Jesus Christ has come for us in this, his, world.
He became man to reconcile to God.

Blessed be the eternal God who wants to share his love day after day, not only Christmas.