A call to Follow: History in His Story. Isaiah #16
Read as Shimeon discovers kindness, repentance, and faith in Gods plan
Inspired by | Isaiah 53 | Isaiah 61: 1-2 | Exodus 22:1 | Ezekiel 36:25-27 | John 11:47-53| John 20:19a| Matthew 28:1-10 | Luke 24:1-12 | 1 Cor 15:3-11 | and see |Shimeon part 2|
A Door to Hope, A Call to Follow
Shimeon had spent his life climbing—climbing over men in the market, climbing through layers of wealth and power, and, just days ago, quite literally climbing a sycamore tree to catch a glimpse of Jesus. And Jesus had seen him. (Shimeon part 2) Not just seen him, but called him by name.
“Shimeon, come down. I must stay at your house today.”
The words still echoed in his mind. That moment had shattered everything he thought he knew. Jesus had called him, not in condemnation, not in scorn, but in kindness. Where others had stones to throw, Jesus held out his hand.
That kindness had undone him.
For the first time in his life, Shimeon felt seen—not for his riches, not for his cunning, but for the man he truly was. And yet, Jesus had not turned away.
That night as he sat with Jesus at his table, with his family, something had shifted deep inside. He had been lost, drowning in his own selfishness, but now he had a way out. Jesus had opened a door that he had long believed was locked shut. The door to knowing God. And more than that. Representing God to others. Serving Him.
It was a door to a new life, to hope.
A Life Turned Upside Down
The very next morning, Shimeon did something he had never done before. He walked back through the streets—not to make a deal, not to collect on a debt, but to return what he had taken.
He started with Malkiel, the farmer whose land he had tricked him into selling for a pittance.
Shimeon stood at the man’s door, heart pounding. He raised his hand to knock, but before he could, Malkiel’s voice came from inside.
“I told you, I don’t have any more grain to sell—” The door swung open, and the farmer’s face darkened. “You.”
Shimeon swallowed. “Yes. Me.” He reached into his pouch and held out a heavy bag of coins. “I took from you unjustly. Here is four times what I took.”
Malkiel’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of trick is this?”
“No trick.” Shimeon shook his head. “I met Jesu(s of Nazareth.”
The farmer’s expression changed at the name. He took the bag slowly, as if expecting it to vanish. “Jesus?”
Shimeon nodded. “I am not the man I was.”
And that was only the beginning.
One by one, he sought out the men and women he had wronged. He returned their silver, their goods, their stolen dignity. Some laughed in disbelief. Some spat at his feet, unwilling to trust him. Others wept.
It was hard. It was painful. And yet, for the first time in his life, Shimeon felt truly free.
A Heart in Turmoil
The days passed, and Shimeon devoted himself to those he had once trampled. He sat with the poor, helped the sick, shared meals with those he once ignored. His hands, once used for grasping and stealing, now worked to restore and give.
Then, one afternoon, he heard something that stopped him cold.
“They say our leaders are calling Jesus a blasphemer, they want him … dead.”
Shimeon’s heart clenched. He found his cousin Raphu in the market. “He has done nothing but good. The blind see, the lame walk, the enslaved are delivered. Look what he did for me Raphu ! What is going on with our religious rulers? Can’t they see?”
Raphu had been devout all his life, and Shimeon looked into his eyes to see if they had the answer. Raphu’s eyes were grim as he exhaled. “It does not matter. The chief priests, the elders—they hate Him because he claims to be from God … to be God!
Panic rose in Shimeon’s chest. “We can do something, I know some Roman officials …”
“The Romans will do what the mob wants, they don’t want trouble.” Raphu interrupted.
Shimeon ignored the comment, his business mind working the perfect deal to ensure Jesus’ safety. He had enough contacts, he could even arrange a ‘get-away’ place for Jesus till things calmed down.
Raphu, knowing his cousin’s mind. Grasped Shimeon’s shoulders. Looked him directly in the eyes. “Shimeon, Shimeon” His voice softened “… do you believe Jesus is the son of God?” Shimeon nodded his response. Raphu continued, “I do too, and I know that if He wanted to - He could call on His Father in Heaven to send legions of angels.”
Shimeon was listening.
“Don’t you see brother, we cannot rescue Him, for He has come to rescue us!”
Shimeon’s lips parted, but he could not speak.
Raphu continued. “Do you remember what Isaiah said?” Raphu recounted the words from the scroll of Isaiah the prophet.
He was despised and rejected by men, a man of suffering and familiar with pain…” Say it with me Shimeon. And together they spoke the ancient words, coming to their fruition just as a fruit in it’s due season.
“He was pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities… The punishment that brought us peace was on Him.”
Shimeon’s mind reeled. “Are you saying… this is God’s plan?”
“I’m saying God is bigger than this moment. Stay in peace. The prophets of old have seen this moment, because Adonai showed it to them.”
Shimeon had to fight the thought of the man who had changed his life being brutally murdered. But his cousins words settled his heart, and he would spend much of the day reading through the scroll of Isaiah.
The prophets words soaked into his heart, like water upon fertile soil.
The Longest Three Days
Jesus was taken.
Shimeon followed the crowds, saw Him beaten, humiliated, condemned. He saw Him carry His cross through the streets, and when He stumbled, something in Shimeon shattered.
He wanted to cry out, to fight, to do something, but then his eyes locked with Jesus’ as blood rolled down his cheeks. It was for a brief moment. But it was enough.
He saw the words from Isaiah: “He was wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities … the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all ...”
“Yet He opened not His mouth, He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth.”
He was there when Jesus was nailed to the cross. He heard His cries, saw the blood drip onto the earth. He heard the mocking shouts of the crowd and wanted to silence them all.
And then—
“It is finished.”
The words rang through the air, final and absolute. The sky darkened. The earth trembled and quaked. And Jesus was gone.
Shimeon fled, heart pounding, eyes blurred with tears. He ran to where the disciples were hiding. Peter, John, James—all of them were there, huddled together in an upstairs room.
They barely spoke. They barely breathed.
Three days.
Three days of silence.
Three days of fear, grief, and confusion.
Shimeon had given up everything for Jesus. He had changed his entire life. And now—
Now He was gone.
A knock shattered the silence.
The room went still.
Another knock. Urgent. Desperate.
John moved first, creeping toward the door. He cracked it open—
A woman stood there, breathless, eyes wild with something Shimeon couldn’t name.
“Mary?” John’s voice was hoarse. “What—?”
She looked straight at him and spoke three words that sent a shock through Shimeon’s bones.
“He is risen.”
The world tilted.
Shimeon’s breath caught.
Hope was not dead.
It had only just begun.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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