Lazarus Letter
By mendedheart
- 438 reads
Interpreter's notes: The below English translation is of a scroll
found in the same area as the Dead Sea Scrolls. Claims to be a letter
from a Jew named Lazarus who was supposedly raised from the dead by the
false messiah Jesus. The letter is addressed to Luke who wrote the
heretical christian gospel. Do not release this letter outside the
Israeli Antiquity Authority. No American or christian must ever know of
this letter.
Translation from original Hebrew follows:
My Dear Luke,
Martha told me of your visit to inquire about my death experience. I
apologize for being away on business. However, all that she told to you
was true as far as I know. I cannot account for all the time while I
lay in the tomb. My memory ends as I lay dying in my house. Like a
dream I floated back to Nazareth and found myself running with all the
children of the city. The sun was warm, our hearts were light, and we
had all day to play. This was Sabbath Day. Serious for our
parents...freedom from chores and studies for us!
Jesus and I were best of friends. Jesus loved to explore everything.
He would take off and explore the countryside just to discover and look
into more of God's creation. He was also fond of exploring the hearts
of those around him. His desire to learn and help had no boundaries.
The old priest in our city enjoyed speaking with him until Jesus
somehow angered the priest by asking what he did with all the money the
temple collected. No matter, Jesus still had the rest of the city to
talk with, he loved to talk with everyone. That's why he stopped just
as we passed an alley in pursuit of the crowd of boys and he said, "Did
you hear that?"
"Hear what?" I asked.
"That cry for help." He said as he started down the dark alley.
"I hear nothing...where are you going, that's an alley!" I said
urgently.
Jesus continued down the dark alley, I could do nothing but follow my
friend. We reached the back end of the alley, it was dark, smelly and
filled with the trash of the city. Jesus walked over to a heap of rags,
reached down and uncovered a man's face. His skin was discolored and
full of sores and his eyes were mirrors to nothingness. He was dead. I
was terrified.
Jesus spoke to the man as if he were alive. "Did you call me?" Jesus
asked the man.
"Jesus, he is dead." I softly said as if I might disturb the
man.
"No, he is only sleeping...Sir, wake up!" Jesus said with some
urgency, and the man gasped for air and instantly his skin was fair and
clean! As his eyes slowly fixed on Jesus he struggled to rise.
He touched his face and looked at his hands and then back to Jesus,
"thank you, my child. Who are you?"
"Jesus, son of Joseph the carpenter" Jesus replied.
"How is it that a child can do such a thing?" The healed man asked
himself out loud as he looked again at the skin of his arm.
Jesus replied, "Our Father can heal anything...even a broken
heart."
The man sat down slowly as he realized the magnitude of the statement.
Just a few months ago his sickness was brought on by his desperate
attempts to help the wife he loved so deeply battle the same horrible
disease that took her life. He could live with his own disease and
dying but he could not bear the horrible pain of loosing his beloved
wife. The man slowly sat back down reflecting on everything that had
just happened.
Jesus told the man that we needed to go and that he would remember him
in his prayers this evening. I watched as Jesus reached into his cloak
and placed his afternoon snack, an apple into the man's lap. "Peace to
you, Sir."
As we walked back to join the other boys I asked Jesus why he had done
that and didn't he realize how dangerous that was? Jesus said, "I would
do it for you too."
The truth of that answer is only clear to me now. He was the noblest
of friends. A brother, a constant help, a certain hand in a time of
need.
The next thing I remembered was his voice. Deeper now somehow. Full of
purpose. Calling me...from my sleep. "Lazarus?come forth!"
"Yes, Jesus" I managed to whisper. "I'm coming old friend?"
I struggled to rise and make my way to the sound of his voice. Why are
my arms and legs wrapped up, I wondered? I found myself shuffling to
the light and was met with a brightness my eyes could not bear and a
large number of voices rushing toward me.
I am told you know the rest of the story. Martha said you asked about
the 3 days of time I was in the tomb. To answer you truly, I am not
certain of that time. Visions and dreams are all I remember, bits and
pieces of things. I cannot say if I was in Heaven for certain but I do
remember sharing an apple with someone from my past. He remembered me
fondly and took me fishing. We caught many fish and laughed much. Maybe
I can only remember a portion or was allowed only a little ways into
Glory. I do know this...time is endless, the apples are glorious and
the fishing is excellent!
Forever your friend,
Lazarus
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