journey onWord with us

There were the same measure of hours and minutes in His Tuesday as any other day so far, but the count and telling of its moments suggests this day was a candle burned at both ends. It began with a pause just outside Bethany, where Jesus shared another profound and powerful layer of truth from Peter’s notice of the withered fig tree. The day continued as Jesus arrived in Jerusalem and began walking through the temple. Quite quickly, Jesus was confronted by a group of priests, teachers and elders who sharply challenged His authority (to do things like the house cleaning He did the day before). It is the first time He tied a challenger in knots today, but it wouldn’t be the last.

The moments in His morning and midday were many. There were stories He offered and ones that were told to answer questions (both curious and hostile). Evil farmers, Roman coins, one bride for seven brothers and the greatest of all the commandments to name just a few. You think you’re busy? That was just morning and midday.

Sandwiched between His temple teaching and the heavy, meaningful moments at the close of the day on the Mount of Olives is the singular story I routinely take the most note of when I travel through this day in His week. With no signal or great notice, Jesus steals away and takes a seat near the collection box in the temple. And with the same great intent He had in walking through his Father’s house yesterday, He observes the givers and gifts. “Many rich people put in large amounts,” writes the gospel author Mark (chapter twelve, verse forty-one, New Living Translation). And while He will watch many, He simply came to take note of just one. The lowly Savior came to see a lowly widow give every last bit of what she had.

This is a pattern with Immanuel, God with us. The Creator of the world who submitted Himself to the constraint of time, takes the time for what’s most important. The gospels mention time and time again Jesus stealing away to pray. Time with his Father was His air and food, and He always made time for it. In addition to the magnitude of His moment observing the widow, my notice this year is the pattern of Jesus to take time to take the time. I humbly suggest I don’t wrestle one bit with the instinct, but I will quickly confess the untold times I’ve allowed so many other things to crowd out my time of talking with Him.

Jesus did not exercise His divinity in extending the hours and minutes in His day. He intentionally chose moments that fit into the same twenty-four hours you and I have in order to be and do what was most important (that being, the Father’s will). There’s profound meaning in the widow giving all with her two mites, just as her Savior would do days later in stretching out His two arms. But can we also now see more clearly the example of Jesus who made a habit of taking time to take the time, and challenge ourselves to be more like Him in doing the same.