Today I’m sharing my post on Five Minute Friday, a weekly link up from mom blogger Lisa-Jo Baker.
What is Five Minute Friday?
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag #FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
Today’s prompt is, ‘CROWDS’
Mark is the gospel of the crowd.
News of him spreads on the inland winds, it’s in the fresh flow of water pulled from a deep well and on the tongue of every passing vagrant, rebel in hiding or woman cast out from her home. The sun sets and the day ends and still they gather, the whole town at his door because everyone is looking for Jesus. No time to eat or rest as the crowds collect and swarm, pressing in closer to hear or to touch him. People are travelling mile upon mile, step by humble step, over mountains, through ancient passes and in from the desert. Some come on crutches and other are carried, they’re tardy and weary, walking and running, the lost and the lame all searching for Jesus. No house can keep him, no town can hold him, no demon can stand him, no soul can contain him, not the words that he says not the things that he does. The whole thing now started, must run to its end.
There in the early morning whilst it is still dark, solitary on a boat, on a mountainside alone or secretly seeking sanctuary in the home of a friend, Jesus prayed:
“Our Father, thy will be done. Thy will be done and not mine.”
And Jesus is master of the crowd. No individual missed in the blurring of faces, in conflicting voices that battle attention, he fixes his gaze on the ones he came to save. Just the one.
A man with leprosy is made clean, a paralysed man lowered through the ceiling in front of Jesus is healed, five thousand are fed in a place called nowhere from a resource called nothing, a mute boy speaks, a blind man by the roadside receives his sight, a foreign woman from a far Northern place rushes home to find her troubled daughter now at peace.
At the Mount of Olives and entering Jerusalem the people of the spreading cloaks and branches on the road cry out and their voices horde and swell. In the temple courts amongst the money changers and religious elite time is running out and the greater crowds arrive for the Passover feast. A quiet room, in secret, Jesus gathers friends, just a few, to tell them what must pass. So that when the crowd cry, “Crucify Him’ and he’s as good as dead and gone, there’s still a few good men and women from amongst that crowd who can not quite give up on a solitary and lonely truth: the truth that surely this man was the Son of God.