Daughter of Jerusalem (32 page)

BOOK: Daughter of Jerusalem
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I made plans to spend Hanukkah with Lazarus and Martha, and when Jesus arrived back in Capernaum at the beginning of the month, I asked him to join us. I feared what might happen to him in Galilee and was greatly relieved when he agreed to join us. He wanted to preach in Jerusalem, and Bethany was only two miles away from the city.

I thought Judea, and even Jerusalem, would be safe for him. Judea was under the command of a Roman procurator, and Rome had no reason to fear Jesus. He never spoke of political matters, even though he was often asked questions about the Romans. He had no interest in the empire of Caesar. His mission was the Kingdom of God.

Where Jesus went, the Twelve went too. Rebecca, Ruth, and Nathaniel also came, leaving their children in the care of grandparents. Martha would have her hands full with such a crowd, but we would manage somehow.

We set off a few days before Hanukkah, taking the road through Samaria. The Samaritans and Jews had hated each other for centuries, and I was concerned about trespassing into enemy territory, but Jesus insisted. He wanted to preach to the Samaritans, and I couldn’t argue with him about that. It was what I loved about him—that he excluded no one from the kingdom.

It was an unusually warm winter day when we first set foot in Samaria, and by mid-afternoon everyone was thirsty. Thomas was the first to spot a well beside the road, but when we reached it, we found a Samaritan woman was already there. Jesus walked right up to her and asked her to draw him a cup of water.

Judas was standing next to me, and I could see his shock as the Master took the unclean cup from the unclean woman and drank from it. The woman was surprised as well and asked why Jesus, a Jew, would consent to take water from a woman of Samaria.

I listened to their conversation. Jesus told her that once Samaritans drank of the living water, they would no longer worship on Mount Gerizim, and when Jews drank, they would no longer worship in Jerusalem. As true believers, Jews and Samaritans would worship the Father together, for the water he offered was the water of eternal life.

This comment was truly a test for some of the disciples, especially Judas, who still believed that he could convince Jesus to lead a Jewish army against Rome. All the centuries-old enmity between Jews and Samaritans sounded when Judas gasped.

However, the woman’s face filled with wonder. “Only the Messiah could accomplish what you say.”

And Jesus replied, “I am he, I who tell you this.”

At this point the woman whirled around and began to run back toward the village, forgetting even to take her water jar.

Judas immediately said, “You cannot mean to include the Samaritans in your kingdom!”

Jesus turned and looked at Judas. The rest of us held our breaths. Judas had made no secret of the fact that he wanted Jesus to be the Messiah who was prophesied in Scripture: a king, a freedom fighter, a great military leader who would lead the Jews to conquer the world.

Jesus said, “You must listen to me more carefully, comrade.”

His use of the word
comrade
caught my attention. He had never used that word to describe his relationship with the other disciples.

He continued speaking to Judas, “My kingdom is not of this world. How can you have listened to me for all this time and not realize that? How many parables have I used to explain this to the people? It is true that I came for the Jews, but my kingdom is open to all those who understand my words. I am the way, the truth, and the life. Entry into my Father’s kingdom comes through me.”

He stopped speaking but continued to look hard at Judas, who bent his head and mumbled, “Yes, Master.”

“So be it,” Jesus said, and sorrow and resignation sounded in his voice. “Let us continue on our journey.”

Chapter Thirty-One

I had been concerned that Martha might not have room for all the people heading to Bethany, but I shouldn’t have doubted her. She had made sleeping arrangements for everyone. The disciples were to stay with local friends while Jesus and I, Rebecca and Peter, and Ruth and Nathaniel were to remain with her and Lazarus. Jesus had his own room, Lazarus shared with Peter and Nathaniel, and Martha shared with Rebecca, Ruth, and me. My two months of following Jesus had weaned me from my soft Roman bed and accustomed me again to floor mats. I slept well under my cloak and the blanket Martha provided.

It rained the first day of Hanukkah. Jews were accustomed to warm weather and sun, and we huddled in our houses around charcoal braziers in the winter when it got too cold. Since the feast of Hanukkah lasted eight days, we felt no urgency to walk to Jerusalem in the freezing rain, deciding instead to wait for the next day to make the trip.

Daniel always slipped into my thoughts during Hanukkah. The feast celebrated the triumph of Judas Maccabeus, the hero Daniel had admired so greatly. I hadn’t been to the Temple for Hanukkah in years, and that night I lay upon my sleeping mat, listening to the rain beat
against the roof and thinking of my lost love. I finally slept and woke to a fine morning. We left for Jerusalem immediately after breakfast.

The air was still cool but the sun felt good on my head as we walked along the road that led into the city. Other people walked with us, but the crowds were nothing like those at Passover. Still, the disciples took no chances. They formed a circle around Jesus so that he walked in the midst of them. A bodyguard, I thought, with approval.

No one seemed to take any special notice of the composed, slender figure in the white wool robe as we entered through the gate. The Roman guards gave me their usual rude stares, which I ignored. We made it to the Court of the Gentiles without Jesus being recognized.

The Court was crowded. The merchants were loudly hawking birds and oxen and sheep for sacrifice, while the money changers were occupied exchanging Roman coins for shekels. As always, the atmosphere was that of a marketplace, not a place of prayer.

I felt a flutter of fear in my stomach as I saw the Master look around the Court. I recognized the look in his eyes, and I prayed,
Please don’t let him lose his temper. Don’t let him give the priests any cause to arrest him
.

Animal sacrifice was the heart and soul of the Temple. It was how the priests made their money. If Jesus preached against animal sacrifice, the priests and high priests of the Temple would see him as a threat, and he didn’t need any more enemies. The scribes and the Pharisees were enough.

I was beginning to wonder if there was any place in the country where I would feel he was safe.

We left the Court of the Gentiles quickly, climbing the stairs to the Court of the Women. The scholars were holding forth in their various posts, and Jesus circled the area, stopping to listen here and
there. I watched as people naturally parted to let him through, giving way without being asked. It was always like that. He burned with an energy that radiated beyond the slender body that housed it.

After all, I thought, he was the Son of God walking among humankind. He couldn’t entirely disguise this truth.

He had reached the Portico of Solomon when a scribe finally recognized him. He said something sharply, and Jesus turned to face him. Immediately a group of people began to gather, and I heard the scribe say again, “Are you Jesus of Nazareth, the man who is calling himself the Messiah?”

Jesus didn’t answer immediately, just regarded the scribe thoughtfully. The scribe said again, his voice sarcastic, “Don’t keep us in suspense. If you are the Messiah, tell us so.”

I looked around me and saw that the crowd was composed mainly of scribes and Temple priests. My hand went to my throat.

As Jesus began to reply, someone behind me said my name. I turned and looked directly into the face of the man who had spoken.

It was Daniel.

The breath was knocked right out of me. After ten years, here he was—Daniel, the one I had thought lost to me forever.

He frowned. “Are you all right? You went white as frost. Please don’t faint on me.”

I inhaled deeply and lifted my chin. “I never faint.”

For a long moment we stood, just looking at each other. I heard Jesus’ voice in the background, but for once I didn’t listen. Daniel said, “Let’s get away from this crowd.”

I nodded and followed as he threaded his way through the Master’s
growing audience. We found a place that was quiet and sat on an empty marble bench. I turned to look at him again.

His youthful face had been hammered into maturity. I could see it in the set of his mouth, the look in his eyes. He wasn’t a boy any longer.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He said, “I thought I remembered how beautiful you were, but I see now that I didn’t.”

I laughed self-consciously. “I’m a lot older now, Daniel.”

“I knew you the moment I saw you. I didn’t even have to see your face, I knew you from the way you held your head. No other woman carries her head as proudly as you do.”

Tears stung behind my eyes. “I thought I would never see you again. I almost don’t know what to say to you now that you’re here.”

He gave me a crooked smile. “I feel the same.”

“Did . . .” I bit my lip. “Did you know that I’m a widow?”

He looked at his hands. “I heard about a year ago. We have little contact with the outside world, but someone who came through with supplies mentioned your name in connection with Jesus of Nazareth. He said you were a rich widow and one of his chief followers.”

So he knew
.

“The report you received was correct. I am both a rich widow and a supporter of Jesus.” I repeated my earlier question: “What are you doing here? Have you left the Essenes?”

He shook his head as if to clear it. “No, I haven’t left them. I’m here on a mission.” He shot me an ironic glance. “I was sent to discover if Jesus of Nazareth is indeed the Messiah we wait for.”

“Ah.”

“What do you think, Mary?”

The sound of my name on his lips made my heart leap. I waited a
moment before I answered. “There’s no question in my mind that he is the Messiah. But surely you must know about him from the Essenes. He was with you for many years.”

He shrugged. “We have many communities scattered around the Judean desert, and he and I never met. I am at Qumran, in charge of inscribing our scriptures in Hebrew, Greek, and Aramaic. I once invited Jesus to join us, but he refused.”

I didn’t know that. “He told me once that he admired your work tremendously.”

Daniel’s lips tightened. “We wanted him to join us at Qumran. He knew nothing when he first came, but he amazed his teachers by how quickly he learned. They said he never forgot anything that was said to him—a precious gift for a scholar. But he refused my invitation.”

I tried to explain. “He couldn’t join you, Daniel, because he is the Messiah. His mission is out here in the world, preaching the word of God.”

“Or perhaps he was tired of the strictness of our lives. Monastic life and scholarship are not something many men wish to do, Mary. Walking the world amid the adulation of thousands might have seemed more attractive.”

My back stiffened. “He does miracles! No one, no holy man or prophet before him, has done the things he has. He’s raised people from the dead, Daniel! And I have seen with my own eyes the most extraordinary healings. Yes, he is the Messiah, but he’s even more than that.” I paused, wondering if I should continue. I decided to be honest. “He’s the Son of God come to bring us back onto the true pathway to his Father in heaven.”

Color flushed into Daniel’s face. “Son of God? How can you believe such a thing? His father was a builder, a carpenter in Nazareth. He worked with his father until he came to join us. How dare
you speak such blasphemy, Mary? Jesus of Nazareth most certainly is not the Son of God!”

“His mother says he is.”

Daniel jumped up, paced a few feet away from me, and then swung around to come back. “Listen to me, Mary. The scriptures say the Messiah will be a great man, a man of power, of authority. A prince among men. He must be all these things if he is to defeat the forces of darkness in this world and bring us into the light. This Jesus may be a successful preacher, but he is none of those things I just mentioned. None of them!”

BOOK: Daughter of Jerusalem
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