Jonathan's New Day

By Kendell Easley

The scene is Isreal in the time of Christ; the hero, a young boy whose life intersects with the Jewish carpenter. This is a classic adventure tale of daring rescues, run-ins with Roman soldiers, revenge by night, and unlooked-for miracles. Life will never be same for one boy, his family, his city, and, ultimately, the whole world. In the spirit

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Jan 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781643458540

Kendell Easley

Kendell Easley served on the faculty of three institutions of Christian higher education, teaching mainly in the area of New Testament studies and New Testament Greek. He was people focused and mentored many students and pastors over a good cup of coffee. This book represents the culmination of his thinking and experience of a formative approach in growing in godliness. Kendell finished this project in the last days of his struggle with leukemia. Nancy, his wife, observed the authenticy of his godly heart and walk during this season. She welcomes your comments on how this work encourages your lifelong walk with God.

Book preview

At the Harvest

The sun was already high by the time Jonathan and Samuel arrived at the wheat field. Matthias and three other men had already cut nearly half the field, using long sharp sickles. The wheat was a beautiful golden color. Jonathan especially liked to watch the breeze blow the ripened grain like waves. Today, the breeze would be especially nice, for working in the sun made everyone sweat. The two boys put the lunch baskets they had brought under a shade tree at the edge of the field and tucked their tunics up into their belts.

Let me show you how to tie up the bundles. If we stay together, we can go faster, Samuel said. He bent and scooped up an armload of cut wheat. With a quick twist, he used four stalks as a rope and tied them around the bundle. The result was a sheaf of wheat that would stand upright to dry until it was carried to the threshing floor.

Watch me try, Jonathan said. He tried to do just as Samuel had done, but his sheaf fell apart. Samuel laughed at him.

That’s just what happened to me the first time. The trick is in the twist at the end. Watch me again, he said.

By the fourth time he tried, Jonathan was beginning to get the hang of it. His sheaves were not as neat looking as Samuel’s, but they did manage to stand up on their own. The boys worked silently from one end of the field to the other. Jonathan couldn’t help thinking about the wonderful black stallion and the boy with the yellow hair. There didn’t seem to be much chance of ever meeting him.

Careful. Don’t gather the stalks there in the corner. Let them lie, Samuel said. Since this is the second day of the harvest, the gleaners will be out after the midday rest time.

Gleaners? Oh, yeah, gleaners! Jonathan replied. I had forgotten all about them. Father says that the Lord has given us a good harvest, so we must leave extra for the widows this year.

The gleaners were the widows that had nobody to provide for their needs. Matthias and the other farmers around the Sea of Galilee were glad to let the widows come and gather the leftovers from the harvest—as long as they were Jewish widows. After all, the pagan widows could always expect money from King Herod or Rome to see them through the hard times.

The boys worked their way up and down the field six times. Sweat was running into their eyes. Gnats buzzed around their legs and faces. They were wishing they had remembered to bring sweatbands like the men had brought. Their shadows had grown short and were beginning to lengthen again before they heard a shrill whistle coming from the direction of the tree under which they had left their lunch baskets.

The four grownups were already sprawling under the tree or drinking from a gourd dipper. Every day during harvest time, one of the younger wives refilled a large earthenware container with fresh water. Although a lid kept most of the bugs out, the water became almost too warm to drink by this time of the day. At least it was wet, though. Jonathan and Samuel trudged from their part of the field to where the men were. Jonathan frowned a little when he saw how crooked the rows of sheaves were that he had tied.

The boys copied what the men had done by pouring a dipper of water on each other’s heads after they had a long drink. After Matthias blessed the food, six hungry people dug into their lunch baskets. There wasn’t much point in hurrying, however, because everyone would be taking a rest before getting back to the fields. The heat made it impossible to work straight through the afternoons. At first, the conversation was about the progress of the harvest. After this field was done, the men had two more larger ones to harvest. They were hoping to be ready to thresh in two weeks’ time.

After the men had finished talking about this, Jonathan pitched in.

We saw the new centurion arrive this morning. He came with his whole family. They came with horses and slaves and everything.

So that’s why you were so late! scolded Matthias.

Before he could go on, Reuben, the youngest of the men, interrupted. More Romans! he exclaimed. I hate them. Why can’t they leave us alone? Why does King Herod have to send off to Rome to get filthy foreigners to lord it over us? If he was a good king, he could find Galileans enough to serve in his army. One of these days, things will change. Rome cannot last forever.

I’ll agree to that, added Matthias. But it won’t be in my lifetime or yours. King Herod has been ruling Galilee with Roman blessing more than thirty years now. He built up the city of Tiberias using Jewish tax money, curse him. And his father, Old King Herod, terrorized from Jerusalem for thirty years before that. These Herods are long livers, more’s the pity. But we may be thankful Galilee is still under a Herod. At least, we don’t suffer as bad as they do in Judea. My wife’s cousins down in Bethany say the taxes there have doubled since Pilate became the governor. He has filled Judea with more Roman soldiers than Galilee has ever seen. No, Rome cannot last forever, but it will last beyond the time of my grandson—or my grandson’s grandson.

Speaking of Judea, Reuben said, what about that new rabbi who came from there last month?

Who? You mean Rabbi Joseph? asked Samuel.

No, I don’t mean Rabbi Joseph, said Reuben. I know he’s the one that came up after Passover to teach the boys to read the Law and to write their letters. And I hear he’s lots harder than the old rabbi ever was. Maybe it has something to do with his being the first real Pharisee we could get to come here. But that’s not whom I’m talking about. I think the one I mean is called Rabbi Yeshua or something like that.

Yeshua. That might be the same one that talked to my son-in-law only day before yesterday, said Matthias. Simon told me he had met someone called Yeshua down at the Jordan River sometime before he and my Hannah got married. Then he showed up right here in Capernaum two days ago. Hannah says that Simon talked to this Yeshua down by the lake while he was washing out his nets.

Jonathan was paying careful attention by now. He was having a hard time imagining Hannah’s husband talking to a rabbi. Simon was the sort of man that didn’t fit in with rabbis very well. He was well-known for terrorizing the old rabbi several years ago. Simon was one of only two or three boys that the old teacher had ever expelled from one of his classes. Jonathan had been amazed that his father had ever agreed to let Hannah marry Simon. Now Simon was willing to talk with a rabbi in public!

Matthias didn’t seem to want to carry the subject any farther. Jonathan knew that his father was ready for his midday nap. No more talk would be allowed. The four grownups, helped by years of habit, turned on their sides and nodded off to sleep. Even Samuel was soon snoring. Jonathan was bothered by the flies and the heat. He kept thinking about the black stallion, the yellow-haired boy, and the strange rabbi that talked to