The New World Covenant

by Norm & Kim Bourque

  “The crowd chanted out the name of Jesus and with the decision made by the crowd, Pilate symbolically washed his hands. The decision to crucify Jesus was the wishes of the people, and he declared, ‘It would not be on his conscience for the decision.’ ”

  At the end of the story, his dad challenged him, "Think about this son, what if when Jesus was in front of Pilate he could have saved himself? Instead of being silent under Pilate's questions, if Jesus had simply said, 'If what the religious leaders say is true, then bring to me in this court the sick, ill, deaf and blind, and if I heal them then you must set me free, and if I cannot, do with me as you wish.' Could you imagine what would have happened immediately to Jesus' ministry? How it would have flourished unchallenged even in today's modern age. He would have had the proof the religious leaders could not have stood behind and the official blessing of the Roman court behind him. Right from that moment there would have been only one religion, one ministry with no other to challenge it and he would have achieved everything he had only hoped to accomplish. He wouldn't have had to die, regardless of people's interpretations of what was prophesized.

  “Can you even imagine what it would be like today if there was another person other than Jesus who had this divine, miraculous healing empowerment and the implications that this would carry." These were questions that he was still unable to find answers.

  He allowed his mind to continue to wander through his memories. It helped to pass the time and it brought back his dad, even if it was for just a short time.

  The young man smiled and again looked down at his gas gauge. It had been a good hour now, his throat felt dry, and his stomach grumbled. I should be coming up on the town soon, definitely time to stop he thought wearily as he stretched his aching neck muscles.

  He was enjoying these thoughts of his dad and allowed him mind to slip back to his memories. His remembered how his dad would use modern day parables usually with a religious theme to make his point. One of his favourites was about a wealthy racehorse owner where his father would compare people of religion to racehorses and horse owners as the leaders of religions. The racehorses would run with blinders to achieve the teachings and training of the owners to win their own races, oblivious to those around them.

  Back in the present, the turnoff sign for Alyssa Falls came into view just ahead. A grimy sign stated that it was the last gas station for one hundred miles.

  He drove into the town and followed the road to where a small weathered building stood. As he pulled up to the battered self-service gas dispenser, he smiled. It was just as he remembered it. With what they charged for gas he thought, they should put some of it into fixing their building, looking around the rundown property as he filled his gas tank. The metal was peeling from the gas pumps, and the glass was so cloudy it was almost impossible to see the readouts. The main building was faring even worse than the pumps. The wood siding stripped and pitted. Its original color so faded in some spots to be merely a memory. One piece of wood trim was loose and rattled incessantly in the breeze.

  The pump gave a tinny sound as it alerted him that the tank should be full. He gave the handle another squeeze. He was going to make sure that he was not going to have a lousy day by running out of gas while driving back to the city.

  He dug in his pocket for his wallet as he made his way to the door of the main building.

  As he got closer, he realized the front of the building was actually a dirt-covered window. It was advertising hot food, cold drinks, and the best apple pie in the world. He smiled. That's quite a claim. Maybe I should try it. Apple pie was his favourite after all. His stomach started grumbling again.

  He put his wallet back into his pocket and pulled open the door.

  It was cool inside and as he glanced around, he noticed how clean it was.

  A few tables were set up along the front window and a long polished wood counter ran the length of the room, with small round stools set into the floor in front of it. Behind the counter to the right was a small set of swinging doors and directly in front of the counter was a large pass through opening to the back kitchen. He smiled to himself, the furniture and fixtures in this place certainly hadn't been new since sometime in the 1950's. The walls were bright yellow and the wood ledge around the top of the room held an odd mixture of teapots and cookie jars. He sat down at one of the stools.

  The room was empty and he swivelled the stool to watch out the front window. A beat-up older pickup truck pulled into the parking lot and he watched with interest to see who was in it.

  A grey haired woman stepped down from behind the wheel. She wore the traditional worn jeans, red-checked cowboy shirt and well-worn hat and boots of the residents of the area. She was tall and slim but the grey in her hair and the slight stoop indicated that she was not a young woman. She went to the back of the pickup and lifted out a small wheelchair. She wheeled it to the passenger door and pulled it open.

  Reaching inside, she lifted the small frail figure of a child from the seat, and lovingly placed her in the wheelchair, strapped her in and smoothed down her pretty sundress. She moved the wheelchair slightly to allow room to close the door to the truck. He watched as she pushed the wheelchair forward, the little girl sat slumped against the back of the chair, her hands continually moving.

  "That's my little girl," said a voice behind him.

  The man jumped slightly and turned to see a pale, thin blond woman on the other side of the counter. She was wiping the well-worn countertop with a clean cloth, not looking up as he studied her. He suspected that she was probably in her late twenties but time and life had not been gentle with her. The lines around her mouth and between her brows showed a worry beyond her age and her thin frame barely held the tank top and jeans on.

  "What's wrong with her?" he asked.

  "Cerebral Palsy, Doc says she'll never recover." She kept wiping the counter as her eyes watched the wheelchair navigate the small ramp.

  He continued to study her.

  "That must be pretty hard?" he said politely.

  She knew what he meant but just shrugged her shoulders. "It is what it is. All I can do is love her and make every moment count. If it wasn't for Doc, I wouldn't be able to look after her. He's been real good about paying for the drugs and his poor wife is looking after her while I'm working," She gestured towards the woman pushing the wheelchair, and then shook her head in disgust. Her mouth pulled tight as she realized she was telling a perfect stranger too much personal information.

  Turning her full attention to him, she asked, "Can I get you something?"

  "Well I just filled up the SUV but my stomach is letting me know it needs to be fed too. Would you have any suggestions or should I just let you make me the lunch special with a tall glass of cold water," he smiled and added, "Oh...and I really should have a piece of that world famous apple pie."

  She smiled and nodded. “I can whip something up for you,” she said as she heading back through the swinging doors as the older woman and child entered the front. He continued to watch the old woman as she pushed the wheelchair to a stop in front of a small table behind him.

  "There now honey, we'll just wait right here for your mom," she said as she slid into a chair next to the girl. Her face was red and sweaty, her breathing laboured. The little girl smiled at her.

  It was such a sweet smile. He felt something tighten in his heart as he looked at the girl. An emotion so strong, something he had always felt but could not describe or express. The intensity confused him. He didn't even know these people and yet he felt that he had known them all his life. He shook his head and turned away.

  The older woman must have felt his gaze and called out to him.

  "Afternoon young man, are you just passing through?" she asked.

  He turned back to face her, "Good afternoon to you as well. I am actually. Have to get back to the city today."

  "What's your name?" she asked.

  "Jason."

  "Well Jason, why don't you co
me and join us. My name is Dorothy but everyone around here just calls me Dot and this here is Anna."

  He did enjoy the friendly hospitality of a small town and had to admit he missed that in the city. He smiled and made his way to the table.

  "That's very nice of you. I would love to join you ladies."

  He shook Dot's hand, and then reached out to shake Anna's hand. As he took her hand, it felt warm in his. Their eyes met and held. Hers were a pale blue like her mother's eyes. They widened slightly as she stared into his. She was very still and her fidgeting stopped. Their eyes remained locked together. As the older woman watched, it seemed his eyes grew brighter and brighter until they seemed to be on fire. It didn't last long, she must have just imagined it, or possibly, it was the sun shining on his face. He seemed to be a perfectly normal young man.

  As he released the tiny hand, he felt a small tingle move from the palm of his hand, up his arm and into his chest where it stopped as suddenly as it had started.

  This is turning out to be a really strange and wonderful day, he thought to himself.

  The young woman came back through the swinging doors carrying a large tray, which she set down on the table beside theirs. Her eyebrows arched slightly as she observed the three of them sitting together.

  "I see you've met everyone but me. My name is Lindsey," she said to Jason as she started to set plates in front of each of them.

  Jason looked down at the plate to see a healthy portion of thinly sliced roast beef piled high on top of large thick slices of homemade bread, garlic mashed potatoes, broccoli and all of it smothered in rich beef gravy. His mouth watering, he reached for his knife and fork.

  "This looks fabulous," he stated.

  "Made fresh every day." she nodded and placed a similar plate in front of Dot and a mini plate of pancakes with fruit in front of Anna.

  She left the tray on the other table but went back to grab the coffee pot and the water jug. She refilled his glass and Dot's coffee cup and then set the pots on the other table as well. She drew up a chair beside her daughter and started to feed her.

  Jason watched them as he ate his own meal. The food was great but he barely noticed it as his eyes focussed on Anna's face. Dot watched Jason with interest, her intuition was telling her that something unexplainable was taking place in front of her but she had no idea what it was.

  Anna obediently opening her mouth like a small bird as the fork moved close to her. She chewed slowly then swallowed her mouth opening again for the next bite.

  Dot commented to Lindsey, "I don't remember the last time I saw our Anna so still. She's so calm today."

  Lindsey smiled back, "I know. It's amazing."

  Once Anna had finished eating, Lindsey collected up the dirty dishes on the tray and headed back to the kitchen. "I'll just go and get that pie now," she called over her shoulder.

  "Why are you here?" Dot demanded, her voice trembling with emotion.

  Jason responded, "I passed by as a friend."

  Jason stared deeply into the older eyes. He could sense a passing of many ages and in his wisdom, he knew her. He smiled, a small flicker of flames sparked in the depth of his eyes but they vanished so quickly she still wasn't sure, but suddenly it didn't seem important, she already knew in her heart, an unconditional feeling without fear.

  Just then, Lindsey returned carrying another fully loaded tray. This time there were plates heaped with large pieces of pie overflowing with scoops of creamy ice cream, cherry pie for Dot and Anna, apple for Jason and for herself, blueberry. She had heated the piece of apple pie and garnished the vanilla ice cream with real vanilla bean shavings. It smelled heavenly to Jason and he smiled his thanks.

  Dot continued to watch the young man. Why did he seem so familiar, so comforting and so much older, almost ancient? Why did she feel that she should know him?

  "Wow! This is out of this world amazing!" he exclaimed after the first bite, his eyes closed as he savoured the flavour. He couldn't remember apple pie tasting so good. It really had been some time.

  "Thank you. It's grandma's recipe. We use apples from our own trees out back," she replied.

  All too soon, the meal was over and he reluctantly reached for his wallet.

  "That was a wonderful meal Lindsey, but I guess I'd better hit the road. How much do I owe you? Oh, and I still need to pay for the fill up of my vehicle as well," he said as he got to his feet.

  "The meal was $14.95 and with the gas the total will be $74.95," she replied as she moved to the cash register.

  He reached into his wallet took out a one hundred dollar bill and handed it to her.

  She punched in the amount and started to make change when he put his hand on hers, "Keep it. It was worth every penny. I really enjoyed the company and the meal. I do so love apple pie. It was every bit as good as your claim," he smiled.

  He shook Anna's hand and watched as the young child's face lit up with a smile. He laughed aloud, "It was lovely to have met you Anna. I believe that you will take care of your mother now."

  He turned to Dot and as he shook her hand goodbye, a single word crept into her mind, “Believe”.

  Goodness where did that come from, she thought as she watched the young man stride back to his vehicle.

  The three of them watched out the front window as Jason folded himself into the SUV put it into gear and drove away.

  Lindsey watched the older woman for a few minutes after the stranger had driven off. She could see something had transformed Dot, her usually strained, pale face was flushed with a pink healthy glow, and her faded old eyes were bright with a rekindled youth.

  As Jason drove down the quiet road, the song ended and the newscaster began to give his news report. "It appears that someone out there has a God complex. Early this morning it seems someone hacked into the communications satellites and broadcast a message saying he was God and that he was sending Messengers to save the world. I guess it takes all kinds. Well, that's all the news for now back to the music."

  Jason chuckled to himself.

  Chapter 3

  He continued on his journey back to the city after leaving the diner. His mind filled with peaceful thoughts.

  The drive was enjoyable and his heart filled with warmth that he had not felt in some time, as his mind slipped back to an earlier time when his dad was still around.

  He remembered sitting in on some of his dad's classes at the University. He especially loved the very first lesson he would teach to his students on their very first day of class. He remembered it so vividly, just the way he had first heard it.

  His dad had always felt he owed it to his students to broaden their knowledge and challenge them to be more open to a new way of learning, a thought experiment he would call it. When it came to spirituality, religion or one's faith, or just life in general, he always stretched the students' thinking process to its fullest. He was a true orator who got his point across.

  He would begin the class by slowly walking back and forth in front of the room holding a rope in one hand. At the end of the rope was a ball.

  He called this first lesson, "God's Attraction to Religions".

  He would start by saying, "I have here a rope, and as you can see it is old and frayed. Let us call it the tether. On the end of this tether is a ball with a cross on it, which you have been taught represents Christianity and in my hand the other end of the tether representing God and the length of the rope represents the distance away from God.

  “Does everyone follow so far?

  “Now Christians teach that the only way to the Father is through his son Jesus and I am sure that many of you in this classroom believe this. I have no need to see your hands," he said as many students put up their hands in agreement.

  He continued walking back and forth slowly in front of the class, still holding the tether with the ball of Christianity and the frayed rope connecting it to God. "To summarize then, the only way to God is through the son according to Christians,” he pauses and loo
ks directly at the class.

  “I however believe that it is only a way to God, not the only way."

  He would stay quiet for a few seconds to allow the students to absorb what he just said and then he would continue, still holding the tether and ball.

  "If Jesus is the only way to God...and Christianity formed from Jesus' teachings...then does that mean God is a Christian only?"

  He repeats himself as he continues to pace in front of the class, "Is God a Christian?

  “By quoting Jesus in scripture, that 'he and his father are one' does this mean that God favours only Jesus or only Christianity or could it have meant something entirely different?

  “Remember class, this is what interpretation means. If this statement were valid, would that mean that God should totally disregard any other person of faith from entering heaven that is not by way of his son.

  “Let’s take that one-step further, does that mean that if you are a Christian, when you die, you alone get to go to heaven and no other faiths are good enough to enter heaven. What about the faithful that worship God by some other means other than through the son, do they not believe in God as well? Is God even religious at all?