The Chronicles of the Apprentice Apostle

I Hobbled Along on My Crutch

A race between a crutch and a walking stick

“I dare you,” I yelled. I’d face-planted and was struggling to get my feet.

James was already at the starting line, grinning like a fool. He picked up his walking stick, balancing himself, spit on the knobbly end, and with his sleeve, he polished it to a shine.

“Waiting,” he yelled back. “Don’t take too long. I want the race to be finished before sunset.”

I gritted my teeth, shifted my weight as Luke had told me, and rested my armpit on the padded crook of the crutch. I moved my right hand “just so,” and hobbled over to my spot behind the line in the sand.

“Listen, you two, are you sure about this? We are going to Nain tomorrow. If you race now and get hurt, you can’t go up that hill tomorrow.”

John. The voice of reason. Always the voice of reason. How I wish I could be more like him. But I’m not.

James has challenged me to a race.

Which one is faster? Him, with his walking stick, or me with my crutch? He’s been laughing at me since I tripped over the dog that followed us and always slept near me.

“That makes sense, John,” I said. “Thanks for warning us.”

“Coward,” James mumbled, so only I could hear.

I broke my ankle, tripping over that dog, and for a while, I could not follow Jesus and the Apostles. James took great delight in telling me what Jesus all did. I heard about Jesus healing the man with the withered hand on the Sabbath in the synagogue and how they tried to trick him, but He soon put them right.

And I crowed when told about Jesus telling the crowd that had come to be baptized that they were a “brood of vipers.” But Jesus then told them what to do to atone. Share, don’t cheat, don’t extort.

These are all wonderful stories, but the one I’m sad I missed was about the centurion. They had just entered Capernaum when a centurion came to Jesus and told him his servant was paralyzed and suffering.

Jesus, as always, said he’d go and heal him, but the centurion replied that he was not worthy enough that Jesus should come under his roof. However, if Jesus said the word, his servant would be healed.

Jesus told the centurion to go home, but Jesus didn’t go, and his servant was healed!

I practiced learning to walk with a crutch because I badly wanted to follow Jesus and see these miracles for myself. But learning to walk with a crutch is hard! Surely, it would be like a regular walk, only you would swing your crutch and follow through. I’d seen people do it.

I fell. Often. And James did not laugh but helped me and gave me advice. After all, he’d walked with a walking stick all his adult life. But as I got better, he’d tease me, saying I was slow, so I promised him a race as soon as possible.

Finally, I was ready to follow Jesus again. The next day, we went up a hill to that small town called Nain. I didn’t know why Jesus wanted to go there; it was out of the way. But as we got to the city gates, a procession came out carrying a funeral bier, and a crying woman followed. “She’s a widow, and he was her only son,” I heard the whispers in the crowd.

Jesus looked at the woman and said, “Don’t cry.” Then he went up to the bier, touched it, and said, “Young man, I say to you, rise!”

The man sat up and spoke to his mother. This was so spooky that I wished I could quietly disappear.

Everybody was talking and glorifying God, and it was all too much. I was uncomfortable, and James sensed this.

James called me that late afternoon when we’d stopped for the night. “How about that race, or are you too feeble and worn out?

Hah! I’d show him. This time, I made sure I had a wide stance to balance and support myself before swinging out my crutch. Everyone entered the fun and stood at the finish line, some fifty feet away.

We picked Matthew to count back from ten. He was used to figures. His voice was loud and clear as he said, “And three, two, one, GO.”

James leaned forward, and I swear he had invisible wings, but I had been practicing when nobody was around and gave a good account of myself. We were near the finish when my pride took over, and I took a massive swing with my crutch and tried to hop to follow.

The crutch went flying, and I was face down and winded in the dust for the second time that day. Worse, I was in the moving line of ants carrying food to their queen, so when I took a deep breath, I was treated to dust, ants, and whatever they had scavenged.

People were laughing, and James leaned over and whispered, “Better luck next time.”

“Blargh,” I replied, working my tongue around the mess. I managed to get to my knees and noticed that the crowd had gone silent. Then, a voice said,

“Give the young man some water to rinse his mouth.”

Jesus had arrived.

I looked up. He did not laugh but smiled and had a twinkle in his eyes. He bent down and tapped on the bandaged ankle. “Is this the one you broke?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir, I mean yes, Jesus, Sir.” I stammered and stuttered and wished I could disappear. What a shameful way to present myself to Him.

Someone, I think it was Luke, held out my crutch to me, but Jesus reached down and took my hand. Pulling me upright, he turned to Luke and said, “Leave that somewhere safe. This young man has no further need of a crutch.”

Carefully, I put weight on my broken foot. There was no pain. Inspired, I lifted my other foot and balanced my weight on my broken foot.

No pain and perfect balance. Jesus had healed me.

He squeezed my hand one more time and, looking full into my eyes, said

“Have faith.”

He turned and left, the crowd separating to walk beside and behind him.

“Friend,” James had his hand on my shoulder.

Did he come to tease me for showing off?

“Not now, James, not now,” I said, but he shook his head.

“Let’s walk,” he said. “It’s a beautiful evening, and a spring is nearby. You can rinse off, and then we will find something to eat.”

I turned to him. He had dust in his beard from our race, and his eyes were shiny. “Why doesn’t he heal you?” I asked.

His face moved, and his lips quivered.

“I will tell you,” he said. “Some day, I will tell you.”

The Apprentice Apostle

Notes:

https://biblehub.com/greek/3484.htm

https://ferrelljenkins.blog/2012/01/03/jesus-and-the-funeral-procession-at-nain/
Meaning: Nain, a city southwest of the Sea of Galilee.

Word Origin: Of Hebrew origin, likely derived from the Hebrew word נָעִים (na’im), meaning “pleasant” or “lovely.”

Corresponding Greek / Hebrew Entries: — נָעִים (na’im) — Strong’s Hebrew 5276: Meaning “pleasant” or “delightful,” which is likely the root of the name Nain.

Usage: Nain is a small town mentioned in the New Testament, specifically in the Gospel of Luke. It is known for being the site where Jesus performed the miracle of raising a widow’s son from the dead. The name itself suggests a place that is pleasant or delightful, which may reflect its geographical or cultural setting.

Cultural and Historical Background: Nain was a village located in Galilee, near Mount Tabor and about six miles southeast of Nazareth. During the time of Jesus, it was a small, relatively insignificant town. The mention of Nain in the Gospel of Luke highlights the reach of Jesus’ ministry into even the smaller, less prominent areas of the region. The miracle performed there underscores Jesus’ compassion and authority over life and death, which would have been a powerful testament to His divine nature.