Susan LaffertyThe crowds follow the fragrance. Looking for bread. Multiplying in His hands.
Fresh bread from the Master draws them. Like hot loaves from the oven.
But then. He speaks. Hard words. Strange to their ears. Threatening their loyalties.
Simple earthen vessels. There they are.
Wading through laws in Leviticus, I see them. In the details. Amid ritual regulations for priests, Levites, and the people of God.
In these particular earthen pots, they boil the sin offering. That only priests may eat.
Their use is short-lived in the days of the Old Covenant. Bronze bowls can be scrubbed clean. Earthenware can’t.
Resurrection Day 2011. In Delhi, India. We gathered with a body of believers from different nations and people groups.
We came to Christ out of a variety of religions and cultural traditions and family backgrounds. Some repented and believed as children. Others turned and followed Him in adulthood.
Each one’s testimony detailing a unique journey to salvation.
On that Resurrection Day we worshiped together as one, in Spirit and in truth. Brothers and sisters in the Lord.
“Christ the Lord is risen!”
“He is risen indeed!”
The next morning I retrieved and dusted off The Times of India newspaper that landed everyday on the balcony of our second-floor flat. I opened it to the front page. And a striking headline.
