This is a short fictional story based on the scripture in John 19:23-24 & Psalm. 22:18
It had been a bit of an unusual day for Antony. The life of a Roman soldier rarely takes a docile turn but today was especially hectic. Aside from the usual incarcerations, breaking up of riots and other public disturbances, there had been these three crucifixions.
Three! Very strange indeed, especially one of the fellows that he was put in charge of. At first, he had sort of gotten into the merry making, the jeering crowds and other soldiers and mocking of the guy who, evidently from the sound of the crowd, had been accused of heresy and blasphemy by the Jews of the city. It seemed to be about something concerning their god and this guy’s trying to proclaim that he was that god or a god. It sounded almost ridiculous, really. Antony did not make much of that. He even heard the guy talking to someone while he was hanging there, on the cross just before he died..…his father or something or someone. But the Jewish God, to him was of no consequence. Antony was a pagan and was only somewhat familiar with the multiple Roman gods, most of them fickle, anyway. So who could trust any so-called gods? What was the big deal about their god? Antony mostly believed in might and money. That seemed to be what worked for him in his life.
He and his wife Aura had a little boy, Pallus. That was Antony’s biggest interest. He did want the best for his little son and the income from his soldiering took care of the family, if just barely. When he had left the house that morning while it was still dark, he had checked on Pallus because the little fellow had become ill during the night and he had hoped that he would recover from whatever it was that was making him sick. Antony knew that little children did frequently become ill and soon , he hoped, the child would be over it. But he didn’t have much time to think about that on this hectic day of strange happenings.
And he did feel pretty lucky that strange day. The soldiers had divided up all the garments from the three victims who had been crucified. But the garment from the one in the middle, the guy whose sign said that he was some kind of king or something or a god….his outer coat was a skillfully woven garment, with no seam or binding. It was obviously an excellent piece of material so he and his buddies who were working the hangings with him decided not to tear it but to cast lots for it. And as luck would have it, the lot fell to him. So actually it was not a terribly bad day for Antony, after all.
At the end of his watch, he and his buddy soldiers had a cup or two of wine at a tavern and then he made his way home with the garment that he had won in the lottery. But upon entering the house he saw that his wife Aura was bending anxiously over the little cot where Pallus was lying. She turned to him, worriedly. “ What’s wrong? he demanded . Her worried face spoke more than her words. “It’s Pallus! He’s gotten worse she cried. What can we do?”
Antony gazed upon his little son…pale and shivering violently under the thin coverlet on the little cot. “Let’s move him closer to the fireplace.” Antony grasped for something to do to help his little son. “Can we call for a physician?” his wife asked, almost pleadingly, hoping against hope. Antony was stern-faced. “You know we cannot call for a physician to come to our house’, he rebuked her. The cost would be exorbitant. That is out of the question. And I can’t carry him there while he’s so very sick. And what could he do, anyway? We just don’t have that kind of money.” She was chagrined. Hopelessness began to creep into her heart as she smoothed the shivering child’s brow. Oh, if only the gods could help, she thought. Then, she spoke the words aloud . Antony sneered. “Ha! The gods, indeed! They would exact more than the physicians and it would not be in money, either. “ It seemed that although Antony had not much faith in any gods, he might fear them, somewhat, although he really couldn’t explain why.
That night, it seemed the little child, Pallus, grew worse and the shivering and shaking continued. Rising in the middle of the night, Antony went to his bedside where Aura had fallen asleep in the chair beside the little cot. It was then that Antony remembered the cloak that he had won that afternoon in the lottery. He found it shoved up on a shelf near the door where he had left it when he entered the house and saw his worried wife. He had sort of forgotten all about it in the crisis that met him when he arrived home. Retrieving the cloak from the shelf, he placed it over the little child , thinking that the added warmth might help keep out the cold night…and touching his brow, gently , he then awakened his wife. He told Aura that she should get to the bed and rest so that she could be ready to minster whatever she could to the sick boy, in the morning. They both retreated, sadly to their bed.
Before the the sun rose the next morning, a strange sound awakened them. They sat up in the bed and stared in astonishment. There stood their little son Pallus, in the door way of their cubicle, clasping the cloak around him, smiling and almost laughing. “Son! What is it? Why are you out of bed?” Antony asked incredulously.
“Mater, Pater! Mother, Father,” Pallus cried out.” Look! I am not sick, anymore! I ‘m healed. I am well! I don’t have any pain and I am so happy to be all well.” He jumped up and down with glee. His parents lurched forward to embrace the little, joyful boy. “How wonderful” Aura cried out. What a miracle! When did this happen, she asked, again, incredulous, as she hugged her son. “ Antony asked, “Son, What has happened to you?” Pallus answered, “Mater, pater, I awoke in the night and there was such a warm feeling coming from this blanket that was on me. It was like a covering of warm goodness or something. I began to feel better and better and went back to sleep. Then when I awoke this morning, I was all better and not at all sick, anymore. I am so happy!”
Antony took the cloak from his son and fell on his knees. “What are you doing?” asked his wife. “This cloak! I won it in the lot cast beneath the cross, yesterday afternoon. It belonged to the man whom they had accused of proclaiming that he was God. It belonged to Jesus of Nazareth and now I see why. Oh, my God, now I see, for I heard Him say, Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” Now I see, my son has been healed by the power of that man on the cross whose garment I laid upon my ailing child. Oh, Jesus of Nazareth, if You are the God, I want to know You and thank You for healing my son. Save us, Oh Jesus of Nazareth. Save my family and forgive me for nailing you to the cross and let us serve You for all our lives. Now I see! Now I believe in the power of the true God..Jesus of Nazareth”
Consider the lilies of the field… Matt 6:28
thedailylily.com 
People would take handkerchiefs and aprons that had touched Paul’s skin to those who were sick. Their sicknesses would be cured, and evil spirits would leave them. (Acts 19:12)
Encouraging story. And, there is healing for you and me!
MG your story reminds me that Jesus cloak was also mentioned in the dramatic healing account of the woman who had an ‘issue of blood’ in Luke 8:43. She had suffered from this bleeding for 12 years and the verse says “She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped. ” I agree with Sara that ‘there is healing for you and me.’
Acts 10:38 – “How God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Ghost and with power: who went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil; for God was with him. “(KJV)
“by his wounds you have been healed.” I Peter 2:24 NIV
There is healing in that cross and in the blood of Jesus.
Debi, good scripture for us to take from our eye and ear gate into our hearts. I Peter:24 that you have quoted above. Read it again from the message, His wounds became your healing. You were lost sheep with no idea who you were or where you were going. Now you’re named and kept for good by the Shepherd of your souls.”
Speaking of healing by the bloody stripes, the Scriptures say that after they had taken the gorgeous robe off Jesus they put His own clothes and cloak back on Him. I suppose those garments were sprinkled with His blood, not only from the beatings and lashes but also from the great drops of blood He sweat in the Garden of Gethsemane during His prayer vigil before the Father the night He was betrayed. There us power in the precious blood of Jesus. There is forgivenss in/by and because of the shed blood of Jesus. There is restoration in the blood of Jesus. He’s all we need.
What a beautiful story MG and scripture references by thedailylilies. Healing, oh how we need it. When I think of a cloak, I think of a garment that protects from the wind and weather outside and around us. The storms of life blow but Jesus is there. His cloak enwraps those of us who love him. In John 15: 13 (New American Standard Bible) reads “Greater love has no one than this, that on lay down his life for his friends.” His garment of love surrounds us! Jesus’s garment surrounds us in good times, stormy times. What a comfort. We also know from Gill’s Commentary that “the garments of the priests are not made of needlework, but of woven work; as it is said, Exodus 28:32. Abai says, it is not necessary (i.e. the use of the needle) but for their sleeves; according to the tradition, the sleeve of the garments of the priests is woven by itself, and is joined to the garment, and reaches to the palm of the hand.”
Our great HIGH PRIEST JESUS as MG says there is restoration in the blood of Jesus. Restore us oh Lord. We thank you most worthy Lord Jesus of our praise!
MG,
Thanks for sharing this story. I just listened to a song that I heard a long time ago, and this story inspired me to try and find it. It’s called “Watch the Lamb” by Ray Boltz. I listened and watched it on youtube.
Thanks, Needles. I went ahead and listened to the song, too. I love the lyrics and the scenes. I will keep my eyes on the Lamb of God.
Dear MG, Is this wonderful story written by you?
The cloak brings to mind so many things to me. On the positive side I think of the lyrics of the song, On Eagles Wings, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rRea9qnjK4 This was one of my mother’s favorite as she went through melanoma and received her true healing in heaven. Through my own personal trials, I have held on to that song knowing Jesus spiritual wrapping of me daily is carrying me through. I also think of a cocoon of a butterfly. In my mind I think of Jesus’s cloak like that. We are who we are, but Jesus is healing us within his loving and caring arms and if we stay still and not run out of the cocoon ahead of schedule and rest in Him we will come forth transformed.
On the other hand I think of when my Mom would have us hang laundry. We always, but always hung the sheets or large pieces of clothing to the street or road side. No one was to see the undies. We would have to rehang if they were not hidden. I think of the undies as our true self, who we are inside and the sheets or large pieces cover that up. We are hidden.
Also along the same line, I think of a dream I had that most of us hide behind a mask too afraid to share ourselves to the real world. Only a few in the dream dared to go on the stage of life without their mask. If we stayed behind the mask no one would know our hurts, fears, or real self. We would never receive the healing Jesus has in store for each one who comes to him or perhaps they are standing at arms length saying no Lord please don’t remove. The Lord says one step at a time my child, I’ll walk you through the change and you will become the unique person I made you to me – maskless.
Thanks again MG for the story and thoughts it brings.
Thanks Rena. I was listening to the Gospel where the soldiers at the foot of the cross were casting lots for the Victims’ garments. And this came up in my being. I wonder what happened to the man who won Jesus’ cloak? And this story came forth as I was driving to school. I thank the Holy Spirit for His promptings.
In reference to what you wrote, Rena, about hiding the unmentionables behind the sheets, we were taught to do that too, although we had a big more private back yard surrounded by evergreens. But still anyone walking into the yard might see the “unmentionables’ so they were hung, HIDDEN, like you said, behind the sheets and towels.
Tonight we heard testimonies of people who were squelched when they were young; not permitted to give their opinion, or speak of their feelings. They had to hide behind a mask of indifference to survive the rejection. Their opinion was of no merit to even those who were supposed to love and nurture them. I also heard a preacher give testimony that he was disfavored by his father as a child growing up and had no idea why. He was not allowed to eat at the dinner table with the family, and had to take his meals up in his room. He said he spent his young life “in his room”. His feelings were of no consequence to the ones he loved the most, and were supposed to love him.
How quick we are to squelch and smush like a bug those opinions and feelings with which we don’t agree. It causes our young ones to either retreat behind a mask of pain and/or indifference or in some cases as we see in the classrooms, act out their pain and rejection.
Oh Lord listening to the pain of others, I want to watch my step and my mouth and my intentions when dealing with others, and especially the little ones who are in my charge. “Our VINE has tender grapes.”
MG, thank you for sharing this story with us. I thought of that mother falling asleep by her sick sons bed. I had two sick boys this weekend. My youngest had a fever of 104 Friday night. Sunday came and he was feeling better. He was playing with our dog and he told me that he was so excited to be feeling better. I was too. My oldest son is feeling better but he wasn’t as excited as my youngest son. He’s not 100% yet. Thank you for this story and for the “cloak” of prayers that covered Noah and Luke this weekend.
Our precious little boys are on the mind of Jesus and in the care of His Hand. We join with you in the prayers, care and love they need as they fully recover.
Amen! Amen! to Sara’s prayers for your sons Wendy!
Thank you Wendy. I felt the Holy Spirit plant that story seed when i was listening to the crucifixion where the soldiers were casting lots for Jesus’ garments. I wondered to myself who had won the lot and was able to take Jesus’ garment home with them. Then the story began to come forth and I pictured the mother at her child’s cot.
Now I thank God that you were able to touch the hem of HIS garment in behalf of your little boys. Jesus is the Healer as I know you well believe and I thank GOD HE has brought your boys through with flying colors. Praise God.
CF’s boys are still in need of prayer for healing. She just asked that we continue to pray for them.
I join my prayers also in asking that chickenfarmer’s sons, Noah and Luke be healed. May the Lord touch them and bring relief and comfort to both of them.