It is late in the evening with dozens of disciples huddled quietly around a campfire as they listen intently to Jesus as he paints a breathtaking picture of heaven. For many hours he spoke eloquently about a land full of many beautiful mansions, a world with streets paved with gold and vast expanses of fertile land. By the time Jesus had finished it was approaching dawn, the fire was burning out and a chill filled the air. One by one Jesus’ disciples drifted off to sleep with the images of great treasure and mansions dancing in their minds.
In the end only Jesus and a poor, unknown, uneducated disciple were left, each one lost in their own thoughts and watching as the fire was slowly reduces to ashes. Amidst the fading light silent tears were visible in the old mans eye.
After more time had passed he looked over to Jesus and spoke, ‘My homely Lord, each day more and more people are coming to worship you. I cant help wondering whether someone like me, an old, uneducated sinner, will be overlooked amidst all the great thinkers, politicians, preachers and radicals that are being attracted to you and your message.’
Then he turned away and continued, ‘I’ve never been in a mansion, never even seen one. So I don’t care too much if I miss out, but tell me, will there be somewhere for me to go when I die?’
Jesus looked at the man with compassion and smiled, ‘Don’t worry’ he whispered, in a tone that could barely be heard over the content noises of the sleeping crowd, ‘tucked away in a tiny corner of heaven, far from all the grand mansions and streets of gold, there is a cramped stable. It doesn’t smell that good and could do with being cleaned, but on a clear night you can see the stars amidst the cracks and feel the warm air on your skin. That’s where I live, and I would love to share it with you’.
“Mansions,” by Pete Rollins, Ikon Church, Belfast, Ireland
