Rome and Jesus Part 2

A Lamb to the Slaughter



The Maccabean revolution set an example to the nation of what a Messiah was. If a man could rescue them with the power of God, how much greater would be the Man called of God. Their alliance with Rome would soon be turned against them, and their eyes would look back to the sky. The Messiah would be their only rescue from Roman rule. Had they only known His victory over oppression came after His death by Roman hands.

Part one of this series was a very brief history of Jewish life prior to Roman occupation. They were constantly oppressed by new nations who felt they were more sophisticated than the jews, yet the beliefs and traditions lived one despite the oppression. This continued with Rome.

With the Maccabean rebellion and subsequent kingdom establishment, Rome stood with them as an ally. It was common for Rome to use tensions of nations to ease their own conquest. The Hasmonean Kingdom was established because of the joint work of the Maccabean rebellion and Roman assistance. This same tactic that allowed for the Jewish nation to govern itself came to be the very thing that brought them into Roman servitude.

When tensions arose between two leaders of the Jewish nation, Rome again tied themselves to an ally. They chose whomever would be more submissive to their rule. With this new alliance, Rome took control of the Jewish government. While they appeared to lead, those in higher positions were under the rule of Rome.

The newfound occupation was a heavy toll on many jews. They had only just freed themselves from Greece when this new ally became a dictator. While they were free to worship as they pleased, it was heavily influenced by the leadership of the church being under the Roman thumb. Taxes to Rome were burdensome, the lack of respect for their religion was disgraceful. The people were more ready than ever before for the Messiah to deliver them once and for all. When that Messiah did appear, his teachings split the narrative.

When the miracles first began, people were enthralled. Here was a Man who was teaching, performing miracles, and expounding scripture. Could this be the Messiah? The Christ? Then His teaching became harsher, calling people to repentance, claiming His heritage of God. Many followers found these teachings hard and fell away. Yet despite those that left, many honored him with palms as he entered Jerusalem before his final moments. His teachings were both great and hard.

While the general population struggled between the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, the leaders at the time had different struggles. They also felt the tension from his teachings. For them, it questioned their very leadership over the people. They feared this newfound teacher would cause a great tension between Rome and Jewish tradition that would end in their distruction. An even greater tension grew as Jesus’ claims became bolder. He claimed to be higher than the law, able to adjust the law. They saw a man who claimed to be God a blasphemy they could not ignore. Yet, due to Roman rule, they had no power to condemn Jesus to death. Just as Rome was their ally in destroying the Greek oppressors, it would now be their ally in killing the blasphemous Jesus.

Rome’s reasoning for Jesus’ were fully political. They saw the tension Jesus was casusing, and while they didn’t see a reason for his death, they saw the same thing the Jewish leaders saw. A potential for unrest.

All these factors lead to the most significant moment of Christian history. The death of Jesus of Nazareth. The very beginning of the Christians’ battle with Rome was in this moment. In the following years, many would die for the same man killed on that cross. A man they knew had risen from the grave. For many, this looked like the end. Even those closest to Jesus were scattered in his final moments. It would take him appearing multiple times before they would truly understand the role they were meant to play. It would take their testimonies in death to bring it to the very nation that had supposedly killed the movement before it began.

Artistic Blueprint

Years ago, Iron Man stole the hearts of movie goers. We were enthralled by his charismatic persona and intrigued by his bullish personality. While he played a character no one could relate to, everyone could relate to him. The mix of dramatic tension with humor made for a sweet and salty snack no one could have anticipated. This created the perfect cookie cutter for movie success.

For years, we’d see this new style repeated over and over again. It was wildly successful for Marvel as they added the deeper anticipation of a larger world interaction. Movies became cookie cutter or artsy. Artsy was a solid risk. You could either see great success or horrid failure. The cookie cutter was not guaranteed big bucks, but it brought in return.

This isn’t the first time in our lives we’ve seen a cookie cutter style movie play out. The late 90s and early 2000s were filled with movies based on popular teenage books. People found something that was working and capitalized on it.

I’m not here to say cookie cutter is wrong. I think in a lot of ways, finding out what people like is important. Your message can carry a lot further when you understand the best way to carry it onwards, but this cookie cutter style has gone well beyond movies these days. I see post after post on how to make your social media pop. They have key hooks. Phrases that are proven to catch people’s interests. Even lengths are analyzed, so you know how long a video needs to be to keep people interested.

Again, if it’s what people like, is it wrong? When I go to a restaurant, I will definitely get spaghetti if I don’t see anything else that piques my interest. Honestly, I think following the advice of those successful will give you success if you work hard, but being unique is just as important. Steps to success are good, but is abandoning yourself in the process worth the success?

Everyone wants the riches and gold. Everyone wants people to look at their work and marvel, even if they don’t want fame. The real challenge is putting yourself on a canvas and hoping there’s someone out there who enjoys what you have to offer. That’s what true success in this life is. When you can make something that’s purely you and not care about it being just right for everyone else.

Country Music

Driving down a long, windy empty road
Listen to that country music as I go
It talks of God
It talks of trucks
About the lovely girls that get them stuck

A song turns on about old man country
Talks about his daughter on that swing so comfy
Where is she now
She’s grown and missed
Her mommy disappeared when she got so sick

And here I am, a tear streams down, even though my baby momma is still around.
My kids are young, my parents old
But both are still alive and thriving be’in so bold.

The tear is not because they’re gone.
It’s cause I’m on this lonely road that gonna take so long.
The end is not when I get home.
I never really call it home when I’m alone.

So I drive through canyons thinking they would love this.
Tunnels through the mountains, children laughing I so miss.
The silent time
The stars at night
Just knowing that they’re sleeping safely right behind.

A hand too far away that’s always at my side.
I reach into the air with nothing there to find.
So far behind
The miles they grow
While all I’m wishing for is time to not move slow.

And here I am, a tear streams down, even though my baby momma is still around.
My kids are young, my parents old
But both are still alive and thriving be’in so bold.

The tear is not because they’re gone.
It’s cause I’m on this lonely road that gonna take so long.
The end is not when I get home.
I never really call it home when I’m alone.

So here I am, the tears all gone, walking through an empty house without a single song.
The house alone
Is not my home
You and them, you are my song, you are my home.


Thirsty

The thirst it burns. I need more
To the cupboard, I go
I grab a cup, the only one
Is it enough? Don’t know.

I fill it to the very brim,
With nothing left to spar
I drink it in a single gulp
I check if more is there

Again, I fill it to the brim
I hope this time I’m filled
Yet once again, a single gulp
My thirst alive, not killed

To take away this longing thirst
My cup can not be all
For when I fill it to the brim
The needed waters fall.

My cup alone is not enough
I need another’s hand
To fill below my spilling cup
Fulfill my thirst demands

Rome and Jesus


Part 1: The Foundation – Judaism Before Roman Rule


All things physical represent a spiritual truth. This is shown in many things but especially in significant historical events. The one I’ve been pondering lately is the growth of the Christian faith. A growth that was exponentially assisted by one of its most brutal enemies.

To understand the growth of Christianity, you have to look back on its origin. That origin is the Jewish traditions lived by Jesus Christ himself. Judaism was a vibrant complex culture that has lasted through, and continues to last through, multiple destructive occupations that should have ended them. It’s no wonder the Messiah would come from their people, because of their ability to survive under the worst of circumstances.

Judaism is unique in that at its earliest stage God, or Yahweh, was the only true God. In the cultures that surrounded them, gods were lifted in victory and cast down on defeat. This may have been the core substance in allowing Judaism to strive in defeat. Daniel, despite being taken captive in Babylon, still worshiped Yahweh and was preserved from the lions. Within their captivity they held to the truth that Yahweh was the only God and that he could bless them individually, despite the seemingly doomed reality of their people as a whole.

Their faith was not in vain. When Persia took control of Babylon, their more open mindedness allowed Judaism to thrive again. They returned home. They rebuilt the temple. They established what would likely become the major traditions at the time of Christ’s ministry among them. Exile did not break their spirit. In fact, it solidified their commitment to the Law.

This would be a type of what was to come. The newest challenge would be Greek influence. This perhaps was the greatest test of their traditions.

With the conquests of Alexander the Great, Greek philosophy slowly trickled into the wealthy jews of their day. Those that reformed their ideas found a place among the courts of the Greeks. The clash was not one of war but one of word and practice. Those that pushed for change in jewish tradition felt informed about the world. This led to the slow decline that allowed a Greek king to defile the temple.

This blog isn’t about their defeat, but about their perseverance. Traditional jews gathered together to fight against their oppressors. Through strength in arms they gained victory step by step. Many factors played into their return to the temple and eventual freedom from Greek oppression, but one in particular highlights a greater story. Almost poetically, Rome was an ally in the cause. The very nation that would come to oppress not only them, but the christianity that would come from their midst.

Thanks for the Memories

This last month has been crazy. I set a goal to do a blog every day, and I did pretty good if I do say so myself. Now I think it’s time for a change of pace. As I mentioned, with all this writing, I’ve reached back towards my novel. The goal of writing a daily blog has made that ultimate goal more of a challenge. So, I’m moving away from the daily blog.

When I set the goal to write daily, it was definitely a large mountain to climb. I’d written consistently before, but I always set a regiment that allowed some leeway on how often I sat down and wrote out an extended blog. This time, though, I wanted to write one every day, or at least post one every day. So to writing I went. Any moment I had, I was writing to give myself a decent pool to pull from if, for some reason, I didn’t get a chance to write out an entire blog one day. Any idea that popped into my head, I’d stop what I was doing and make a note to myself about it.

This constant idea slash writing flow got a little monotonous, not because of the writing, but because I needed a little more creativity and little less day to day. So, to break up the bloginess, I turned to the theology of my book. I read through it and created a timeline, both things that weren’t extremely cumbersome to make sure I still had “blog” energy. This ignited a new fire to finish my book.

When I say finish my book, realize I’ve written out the entire story. I have it all on paper right at this moment. In my last round of edits, I made some significant changes to make the story more cohesive and allow the protagonist in the story to shine a little more than he did before. With all these changes, I need to go back through and really smooth out the chapters to give it a good flow. That’s the challenge, really. I’m not creating anything new, just editing what I’ve already got. It’s never fun to criticize your own work, but it’s necessary.

So, while writing a blog has been a fire beneath my fingers, it’s taken away from the bigger goal of finishing my book. So, in the coming days, I won’t have entire blogs every day. I hope to stay consistent, of course, but that might be daily quotes or just a simple thought, with blogs mingled every couple of days. I know a lot of this is talking to myself, but that’s really what a blog is, right? Watching someone talk to themselves online as if someone else is listening.

Hour for a Word

Sometimes, when you’re writing, words seem to flow as seamlessly as a stream. Other days, you just can’t figure out what to write. Then there are those very unique moments where the words are flowing and you come to a dam. You know water can flow past the dam, but for some reason, you can’t quite find the words to get past it.

When I can just write and words flow, that’s easy. I can write paragraph after paragraph when the words just come to me. In my best season of blog writing, I was able to write three blogs in one day because I had the flow. Then, literally happening at this moment, the flow gets interrupted.

No one called my name, no one stopped me from writing, yet the brain almost stalled. It is usually when you know what you want to say, but you’re just not sure how to say it. It’s not the same as writers block. At least I wouldn’t call it that. I’m not at a loss for ideas. It’s phrasing. I’ve got a complex idea that needs proper words.

The other end is simply tying ideas together. You know what point a and c are, but how to get there isn’t as clear cut as b. It could be a word. It could be a sentence. Or it could be a whole paragraph that needs to mold two ideas together but just simply isn’t there.

I recently had this happen with “Intricacies of Theology”. The words were flowing really well that day. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, mostly because I had literally just written creatively before and flowed right into the blog. Then, I had a single sentence left. The end.

For some reason, I didn’t know exactly how to word it. I wrote it out three or four times but just couldn’t find the explanation. After pushing through for a while, finally, I moved on and came back to it later. Still after returning, I found myself unable to articulate the final sentence of the blog. When I inevitably finished, I had spent as much time on that single sentence as I had on the entire blog.

It wasn’t a lack of inspiration. I had a version of what I felt like I wanted to say in my head. That’s the challenge with writing, though. Sometimes, you can write a whole blog in minutes. Sometimes you spend an hour on a word.


Pending Inspiration

A roadblock I think a lot of writers find themselves running into is the ever large lack of inspiration boulder. It’s not that there aren’t plenty of things to inspire, but sometimes the inspiration doesn’t fit the moment. Sometimes, the inspiration fades before you have a moment to use it. You find yourself searching for hints of earlier inspiration, piecing them together with a portion of what they once were.

When reading back my writing, I can see clear pictures of moments I was inspired. My words are more articulate. My desire to describe every detail is penned out. I can often feel my character’s experience in the words. On the other hand the moments I struggled to get through I can see myself rushing to get to the next exciting part. That writers block is a tough boulder to move, but unfortunately it is one you have to move. 

Inspiration can surround you, but I think often times it doesn’t always agree with personal desire. Often I feel really happy but I’m on the death scene of a special character. I struggle to find that tone of sorrow needed to complete the scene. This is only an excuse though. In reality I just tell myself that because I’ve got writers block. I think different emotions can actually build up the scenes being written.

Writers block is a good word. Its a blockage, a clog in the sink. Nothings going through it until the blockage is move. Its not writers blister, or writers flu, its not just going to go away with some rest or a good ointment. Writers block is something to me move. Pushing through isn’t necessary, even a clogged sink will eventually drain, but if you don’t fix the block you’ll eventually fill it to the top again and be left waiting.

Pushing through writers block can create beautiful scenes. Think of a moment meant to be filled with sadness written by someone filled with joy. To a reader, the confusion they must feel reading a sad story but feeling a hint of joy behind the words. Or fear when you’re excited, peace when you are angry. The mix of emotions is like wildflowers in a field of hay. They may not always work, but when they do your left with emotions, no one can truly describe. 

Intricacies of Theology

The world is filled with ideas, especially in regard to its creation. You have scientific that focuses heavily on what can be proven and then theological focused on a creator or creators. When it comes to a fictional world, creating that fictional theology can be challenging. The world can be created by any means as a writer, but what do your characters believe vs. what actually happened.

I first thought of my world theology after reading Tolkien’s Simarillion. The detail of the creation of his world, as well as the amount of history that played into his later stories, was astounding. At that moment, I wondered what my own characters believed. They live in a fictional world. Are their truths about the world’s existence mingled with falsehoods? Is there a power in believing a true faith, or is it all semantics?

In this, I started to look deeper into my story. The villains. What made them so villainous? Could there be a deeper power they tapped into? The heroes. Are there ancient prophecies of their mission? Do they gain strength through religious objects or beings?

It’s interesting to really dissect it all. A lot of stories have this dynamic of world creation and active story, but they don’t relate it to religion. When you create a world, you know the difference between belief and truth. This makes it no longer religion but tradition. In reading The Lord of The Rings, you don’t ever feel like Aragon is an over religious zealot plotting to take the throne based on a divine calling. Yet here is a leader with what can only be viewed as a divine calling based on the heritage of his people.

I really began by thinking what my characters believed and realized really quickly that was not the place to start. Beliefs can be uncountable. Every single person in the world can believe something different about the creation of the world. Even generalized, you still have hundreds of religions with similarities yet significant enough differences to be numbered as their own. So I came to the conclusion that I must create the world. I was not creating a religion or a belief. I was writing the actual history of the world’s creation.

I had some hesitation initially. Was it blasphemous to base my stories’ world creation on actual theology? Was it blasphemous to create my own version of world creation that was completely unique of what I believed of our world’s creation? After overcoming those questions, I returned to Tolkien’s Simarillion. I listened to the beginning again and really absorbed how he’d created a divine being that planned out the creation of the world, but the creation was actually done by others. I enjoyed his symbolism of how certain characters were fated to be enemies by their involvement in the planning.

I didn’t want to create a copy of Tolkien, although I was deeply inspired by him. My world began on what I felt to be, more solid ground. I created a place for the gods, a heaven of sorts, yet these gods were not the gods of creation, in fact, rather than the gods considered good creating the world, it was the sins of a god that created it. I wanted the world to be built by the enemy of good. A god that eliminated anyone who could have refuted his godliness.

This burst into an expansion beyond what I could have dreamed. As I wrote the story, I realized I had questions, and because I was creating the story, I made the answers. What caused this god to rebel? Well, there is an unknowable god that resides higher than all others, and this god thought his actions honored him. Where do elves come from? Created from eternal trees by the children of this wicked god as protectors of the world against him. Each question was given an answer, then expanded into a story.

Now, I have ten periods of time that expand the history of the world. From creation to the end of time. I have gods and God’s. Beings that people worship like gods, yet don’t declare any divinity themselves. All of this just to tell a story that takes place in the tenth age of the world.

My characters believe many things about the world they live in. Some know the truth, others are far from it. Despite the challenge, it’s a fun experience building a planet from scratch and a story along with it. When it comes to creation, people have a lot of questions, but when it comes to mine, I know all the answers.