Scarlet Robe Creations

(Matthew 4.12-22; Mark 1.14-20; Luke 4.14,15; 5.1-11)   I labor with my hands. Hard calloused hands.   I know work and little rest. My night is finished, but you ask me to cast out one more time.   See these hands, teacher, these tired hands. They have mended nets torn by a day’s drudgery.   See these muscles, they are weary and seared. I have nothing to show for my efforts but sweat and ingrained filth.   And you ask me to cast out on the sea again.   My brother hears you speak and he brings you to me, hoping I will listen. Your words excite James and John, but they see life differently than I.   I need to feed my family. My brother and Zebedee’s sons chase prophets and harbor dreams that our world might be different,                 some day.   Your eyes look into my soul. What do you see in me? A body fatigued from its labor. A soul trapped in trial. I do as I say and n...

  I knew your father. He was a good man, Joseph the carpenter.   I was there, in his home, the night he died. I listened to your mother weep    softly.   I’ve heard them tell of the things you’ve done, the words you’ve spoken in prophecy.   I placed the Tora in your hands when you stepped forth. You read the words of the holy scriptures, the prophet Isaiah, a man longing for the messiah.   You staked a claim, The words of the prophet are fulfilled, but you are a carpenter’s son, not the leader we are promised.   They call you blasphemer because of the proclamation you’ve made. They raise fists and stones in the air and unscathed you walk through their midst.   And I fear that if the stories of you are true you have not come for the pious children of Israel but for those we, the righteous,    consider retched. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr https://www....

The instructions came from one who was simply a guest. He told us to fill the six stone water jars with water. Only water and nothing more.   Who is this man? I asked one of the others. I heard the name Jesus, son of Mary, a cousin of the groom. We are going to drink water at a feast, another whispered.   In my foolishness I laughed softly so none would hear.   A moment after the jars were filled and brought to Mary’s son, He told us to draw some and bring it to the man in charge.   The master tasted wine, the best wine, from this plain water. This son of Mary did nothing but instruct and the fluid obeyed.   Forgive my doubts my foolishness and my laughter when I am instructed to perform tasks I see as impossible. For you are always present, turning my plain water into the most palatable wine. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author From the Collection;  Pictures of the Messiah

  Nicolas Poussin - Christ et la femme adultère I raise my fist into the air, grasping a chunk of stone tightly within my grip. Adulteress, this woman has been caught in the very act, with a man not her husband.   The teacher looks at her as she cowers helplessly at the wall. The law states that a woman such as this should be put to death. You do not place yourself above Moses.   He tells us that if we are without sin, we may cast a stone. I consider releasing the rock. I wave it above my head. My small sins do not compare to hers.   To my left a stone falls to the ground. Another of my companions gives up the trap. The teacher has called our bluff and one by one we leave to go about our piously sinful lives. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author From the collection;  Pictures of the Messiah

I wrote this poem a long time ago and included it in the collection 'Pictures of the Messiah'. When I wrote this I was thinking about Jesus' visit to Bethany and the idea of true hospitality. Georg Friedrich Stettner -1639 You can rest here. After days in which your journey has been fulfilled with dust, rain and cold. Peaceful among the fragrances of this kitchen.   Speak to me. Teach me my friend. I’ll not petition you in any way. I’ll try my best to put aside my weakness and become a soft pillow for your head, which is so used to resting on stone.   I’ll come in from the yard when my work is complete. Embrace you as my brother. I’ll speak to you of my joys. The ordinary moments of life repeating themselves daily and filling me with such peace.   Be with my family as if they were your own. Share in their laughter. Quench your thirst with cool drink and ease your hunger on freshly baked breads.   I know you have much more work to do. You have cities to convert, hom...

The Edge of His Cloak (Matthew 9.18-26; Mark 5.21-43; Luke 8.40-56) Blood flows and weakness ensues. The strength to face my days lessens. There is little compassion for the sick if hemorrhaging scars the ailment. This flow makes my flesh unclean and all who touch me are impure for the allotted days. As I near the moving crowd those who know of my condition move away, afraid that I might brush against them and stain them. I have heard rumors about You. You are my final hope. My offerings have gone unanswered. My prayers have been unheard. I struggle to reach You, using all my strength to close the distance. I want to simply touch the hem of your garment. I know You can make me well. “Who touched me?” Your voice frightens and sooths. I have overstepped my boundaries. I am a woman plagued with a menstrua l curse and You are a man. I have defiled You. Please Lord forgive me, for being so bold as to reach...

I am Levi, I have taken advantage of my downtrodden brethren.  I am Mary, I anointed Your feet and wiped them with my hair. I am the rich man, Finding it so hard to forsake my comfort and wealth   and the poor, Encouraged that You take note of me.   I am he who cries out in the dark valley, I am the single lost sheep You search for   and she who they wish to stone, Trapped in the fornication this world worships.   I will deny In my fear of criticism. and I will betray, Since in my mind my plan is foremost to God's  I will stumble and rise again, Because of Your unconditional love. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

Christ Instructing Nicodemus Crijn Hendricksz, 1604 I came to you in the shadows of night. I wore the darkness like a cloak, shielding and protecting me, from those with whom I associate. You speak to my heart and I am drawn to your voice. But there are those on the council who wish you did not speak with authority. You are not of the Sanhedrin, nor are you a scribe. But your words, with deeper roots than the prophets, are from God. Not from man. And that frightens the core of my being. You tell me that if I am born again, I will envision the kingdom of God. You explain that I must be birthed of water and spirit. I am deeply troubled by your words and the timing of your presence. Few of the wise will listen to you. They will wish to keep you silent When your voice is what we most need to hear. I leave you, wondering where I will stand, when next I hear your voice speak as the Son of God, having come to us...