He is Here

Chapter twelve in the Gospel of John, verses 12 through 26, tells the story of what is known in Christianity as Palm Sunday, describing Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem six days before Passover. Three different responses and expectations are noted in this text, those of the Jews, the Pharisees and the Greeks (God-loving gentiles).

The Jews were expecting a national deliverer, one who would overthrow Roman authority; they loved what they thought Jesus could do for them.

Zealots for religious orthodoxy, jealous of Jesus and in direct competition with him—the Pharisees feared they would lose their power over the people.

Concerned for their safety and full of questions, the Greeks just wanted to see Jesus.

“Now among those who went up to worship at the feast were some Greeks. So these came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and asked him, ‘Sir, we wish to see Jesus.’”

Seeing Jesus . . . I had just such an opportunity this past Wednesday at the Jefferson County Community Ministry food bank.

Since activities had slowed down, I was sitting at the desk reading, when a young lady entered with her yellow form to receive food. After a friendly greeting, I began asking the required intake questions:

“Do you have any food allergies that you know of?”

“No.”

“Do you have access to a stove or microwave for cooking?”

“Yes.”

“Do you . . .”

The young lady jumped in . . .

“Wait a minute. I think I know you. Didn’t you use to be a teacher?”

“Yes.”

“Are you Mrs. Spurlock?”

As I looked at her more closely and then at her name on the form, I remembered her.

Here He was standing before me; I had not recognized Him thirteen years ago in a school classroom.

I lovingly grabbed her hand and told her how very sorry I was that she found herself in these unfortunate circumstances. As I finished the intake questions, she told me a few short details of her life; not much—she had always been a quiet and reserved student.

When her order was ready, I gave her a hug and she went on her way.

“I just want to help people” . . . my heart’s desire in volunteering . . .

. . . in doing so, I keep discovering, over and over, He is here.

He is here, Hallelujah. He is here, Amen.
He is here, Holy, Holy. I will bless His name again.
He is here, listen closely. Hear him calling out your name.
He is here, you can touch him. You will never be the same.

Kirk Talley