Watching the series called The Chosen has impacted my understanding. And my heart. To be honest, I already know the literal stories well, having grown up as the daughter of one clergyman and married another. But there is a context around those stories that I missed. 

If you had asked me on a multiple choice test what Matthew's previous job had been, I would have known he was a tax collector. But so was a friend of mine last year, and it was no reason to shun her. The depth of contempt that the other disciples expressed for him was distressing. 

I understood that Mary had been freed of devils, but thought no more about that than the color of her hair. The script showed how she was liberated from internal demons that twisted her true spirit. This made Mary's devotion to Jesus much more grounded. 

The woman that Jesus spoke to at the well was a Samaritan, which I had a vague idea about. But the way it was portrayed in the movie helped me see the vast divide that Jesus reached across by being kind to her. 

There is an episode in which the ragamuffin group that followed him spent the day doing chores, while Jesus healed a never ending crowd of hurting people. Simon, James, John, and Andrew argued with one another, even as their Master was pouring out mercy to the blind, and lame, and sick. It struck me as similar to what can happen in my world. Even as God is fully immersed in serving those who come to Him with their broken parts, there can be a group who consider themselves to be followers, just out of earshot, bickering. 

The messages are still percolating within me. I pray that I can see the life within these stories, and not simply parrot them back the way the Pharisees keep doing. May I cast myself among those who don't simply associate with God, but need His help.