Daughter of Jerusalem (29 page)

BOOK: Daughter of Jerusalem
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“Andrew is right,” James said to his brother and, after another fierce look at Judas, John subsided.

By the time Elisabeth and her staff cleared the table, all the men had retired to their beds. I went out into the courtyard. The garden, where Jesus had chosen to go, was situated behind the house, facing the lake.

I sat for a long time in the warm night air, thinking. Jesus often referred to his father and his father’s kingdom. Andrew had told me Jesus’ father was a builder in Nazareth, but when Jesus spoke of him, it was as if he was speaking of some great king. It didn’t make sense.

The moon was out when I decided to walk down to the garden. I understood his need to be by himself, away from all the people who didn’t understand him, but I couldn’t let this chance to be alone with him escape.

He was standing at the end of the garden, looking out at the lake. The moon had risen, casting a white sheen upon its smooth surface, and tiny waves lapped against the shore—a soft, calming sound. I looked up at the heavens, which were sprinkled with starry points of light. Then I went to join him.

He must have known I was there, but he kept his eyes focused on the lake. The moonlight showed me his profile, the thin, arched nose, the defined cheekbones. The scar above his eyebrow was white against his tanned skin.

I said, “They love you, Master. They believe in you. They just don’t understand.”

Still he didn’t look at me. “No, they don’t understand.”

“They believe you are the Messiah.”

“I know.”

I gathered all my courage and asked the question that was burning in my heart. “You were with the Essenes for a long time. A boy I once loved joined them in order to pray for the coming of the Messiah. Did you know him? His name is Daniel bar Benjamin from Magdala.”

He turned his head to me. “I know of him. He is a highly regarded scholar, but we were in different communities.”

“I want so much to understand, Master. If you are indeed the Messiah, why did you join the Essenes to pray for your own coming?”

He turned back to the lake. “I joined the Essenes to learn. I needed to know the scriptures, to be able to read them and speak of them. I needed to know everything if I was to bring the truth of my father to the world. There was no opportunity for me to do that in Nazareth, so I went where I needed to be.”

There it was again.
My father
.

“Is it true that you can forgive sins?” I could hear the trembling in my voice, and I clasped my hands together tightly.

Finally he turned to look at me. “Do you need to be forgiven, Mary?”

Suddenly I felt bowed down by the burden of my guilt. I began to cry. “Yes, Master, I need forgiveness. I have been a bad woman. I betrayed my husband, and because of that he died. I have lived a life of godless luxury. I cut myself off from who I was and became someone else, a harlot, a murderous harlot!”

My legs wouldn’t hold me and I sank to my knees, weeping. I hadn’t realized that I possessed these thoughts, but I knew what I had said was true.

“Can you forgive me?” I sobbed. “Can you forgive my sins?”

“Mary.” He bent, pried my hands apart and held them. He tugged gently, and I stood up.

He looked into my eyes. “Mary, you have sinned, it is true, but are you sorry for those sins?”

“Yes, Master.” I could hardly get the words out through my sobs. “Yes, I am sorry!”

We looked at each other for a quiet moment. Then he said softly,
“You have sinned, but you have also loved greatly. Your sins are forgiven, Mary of Magdala.”

I gazed into his eyes and suddenly felt engulfed by the glory of his presence. His love encompassed me, and I knew that no one on this earth could ever love me as he did. Only God could love like this. I felt his love coursing through all my being, and I knew. “You aren’t just God’s messenger, are you? You are His Son.”

His hands were still clasping mine lightly. “You have said it. You are the greatest of all my disciples, Mary of Magdala, for you have seen the truth.”

I wanted this moment to go on forever. “Why me?” I breathed.

“Because yours are the eyes that see and the ears that hear. Yours is the heart that understands.”

We stood for a long moment looking at each other, and I felt the perfect unison of my spirit with his. The garden, the lake, the physical world faded, and nothing but profound joy and peace filled my heart. It was the greatest moment of my life.

Then he dropped my hands and turned toward the house. “Come, we must go in.”

I didn’t want to go, but I knew he had work to do.

“Yes,” I said and went with him toward the house.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I wanted to stay awake so I could hold onto what I had felt, but I fell asleep almost instantly. I awoke when Martha came in to see if I was all right, I had slept so late.

The disciples had already left, going with Jesus to the lakefront where he often taught. I took Lazarus and Martha into the courtyard and told them what had happened. I could never tell anyone else, but I knew that I could tell my brother and sister. They, too, had eyes that could see, ears that could hear, and hearts that could understand.

“The Son of God,” Lazarus said, wonderingly. “How did such a thing happen? He was a child once. We know that he grew up in Nazareth. Did God create him and place him in the trust of a human family?”

Martha, ever practical, said, “But he’s human too. He gets tired and hungry, just like we do. He gets annoyed when people are stupid, like John was last night.”

We went back and forth for a while until I said, “I don’t know how. All I know is what happened to me last night. If I could have died at that moment, I would have died with joy. All we need to know is that
Jesus of Nazareth is from God, and he has come to teach us the way God wants us to live. Our part is to listen and learn.”

Jesus kept his promise to dine at the house of Zebedee. All the disciples had gone with him, so dinner was quiet at my house. Martha, Lazarus, and I were sitting comfortably over our fruit when Jeremiah came into the room. “My lady, a woman is here who says she is the Master’s mother. There are two men with her, and they’re looking for him.”

I put down the fig I was holding and said, “Please bring them to me, Jeremiah.”

The three of us waited in wondering silence until Jeremiah reappeared, accompanied by my visitors.

Jeremiah said, “I will bring water, my lady,” and left, closing the door behind him.

I stood up and went to greet the woman. She was small—the top of her head only came to my eyebrows—and her features were a delicate replica of Jesus’ face. She smiled, and it was the same smile that I saw so rarely on her son.

Her voice was gentle. “I am Mary of Nazareth, and these are my sons James and Joses. We are looking for my other son, Jesus. I understand he stays with you.”

James was looking around the room with a frown. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with deep squint lines at the corners of his dark eyes. “Is he here?” he asked abruptly.

“I’m afraid he’s not. He’s taking dinner at the house of Zebedee today.”

The door opened again, and Jeremiah came in with a pitcher of water and three cups on a tray. I said, “Please, won’t you sit and have a drink. You must be thirsty.”

Mary looked at James and shook her head slightly. He said, “Thank you, but we’d like to go to him now. My mother has something important to tell him.”

“Of course. I’ll have Jeremiah take you so you don’t get lost,” and I rang the bell for my servant.

“He looks so much like his mother,” Martha said as soon as the small family had left the house.

Lazarus and I agreed.

Elisabeth came in and asked if I wanted her to clear away our food. I nodded, and Lazarus, Martha, and I went out into the courtyard, where it was growing cool. We hadn’t been there long when Jeremiah appeared again.

“Did you get them there all right?” I asked.

“No, my lady.” He looked upset. “I managed to push through the crowd around the house and get into the dining room, but when I told the Master that his mother and brothers were outside, he refused to see them.”

I was stunned. This was so unlike Jesus. He might show anger at hypocrisy and stupidity, but to reject his own mother? “Are you sure you heard him correctly?”

“Yes, my lady. I heard him right because he turned to the others at the table and said, ‘My mother and brothers are those who hear the word of God and follow it.’”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Lazarus asked, “Have you brought them back here?”

“Yes, they’re in the atrium.”

“Bring them out here into the cool, Jeremiah, and bring some water and fruit as well.”

Jeremiah went back into the house, and shortly the three from Nazareth joined us at the big courtyard table.

James’ dark eyes were flashing with fury. “If that isn’t Yeshua all over again,” he said to his mother. “He never cared about the family, Mother. All he ever wanted was to go his own way.”

Mary looked tired but calm. “He was teaching, James. Yeshua is always teaching. It is his calling from God. He knows where we are. He will come after he finishes dining.”

Jeremiah appeared with the water, and my guests drank thirstily. Then Lazarus said to James, “If you and your brother wish, I will take you down to the lake to cool yourselves.”

James and Joses were sweating profusely and readily accepted Lazarus’ offer. Martha rose and said she would send Jeremiah to the lake with some towels. I was left alone with Jesus’ mother.

“I’m so sorry that this happened,” I said. “It isn’t like the Master to be hurtful.”

“Yeshua is not like other people.” Her voice was warm with love. “The other boys never understood him. They are not his blood brothers; they are the children of my husband’s elder brother, Aaron. They came to us when they were small, after Aaron and his wife died of the fever. Yeshua and James were the same age, and James adored him. We used to tease him about being Yeshua’s shadow. He was deeply hurt when Yeshua left to join the Essenes. He can’t forgive him for deserting the family. You see, James loved Yeshua, but he never understood him.” She smiled. “Well, none of us ever understood Yeshua.”

She looked at me with the clear amber brown eyes that were so like her son’s. After a moment’s pause, she added, “How could we
understand him? After all, we are but ordinary people, and he is the Messiah.”

My breath caught. Spoken in that soft voice, the words were yet filled with authority.

“I know.” My voice was scarcely a whisper.

“My husband and I never said anything to anyone else, not even the boys. We didn’t know what it would mean, you see. But when Yeshua went away to the Essenes, I knew it was because he was starting on his journey.”

The men came back, having bathed in the lake and dressed in clean garments. Elisabeth brought out more food for the visitors from Nazareth. The sun was beginning to sink in the western sky when Jesus came into the courtyard. He was alone, and he went immediately to where Mary was seated. “You wished to see me, Mother?”

“Yes, I did, Yeshua. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Joseph is dead. It happened quickly. He caught the fever and was gone in two days.”

The words fell like stones into the quiet pool of the courtyard. Jesus sank to his heels so that his face was on a level with his mother’s. “Then we should rejoice, for today he is in paradise.”

“I know.” Her voice quavered a little. “But I miss him.”

“He was the best man I have ever known.”

She reached out and smoothed his hair. She nodded, seeming unable to speak.

James’ angry voice shattered the quiet. “How good of you to finally agree to see us, Yeshua. We’ve been hearing about how you’re curing all sorts of people around the lake. If you had bothered to come home, you might have cured our father before he died.”

Jesus stood to face his brother. “James, James, do not be so angry.
Mother understands. I am no longer part of your family. My family now is all of humanity.”

James slammed his hand down on the table, making me jump. “Stop talking like you’re some gift from God! I know who you are. You were six years old when I came to live with you, and you were a child just like me.”

BOOK: Daughter of Jerusalem
13.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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