Everybody's Daughter (9 page)

“Wait,” Michael ran toward him. “Yochanan. Stop.”

The man halted his trip again and took a few steps back to Michael.

“Yochanan?”

The man dipped his head slightly. “Do I know you?”

Now what do I say?

“We have a mutual friend.”

“Who is this friend?” Yochanan’s stare danced all over him.

Michael paused, stalling for an answer. “Does it matter?”

With a look of annoyance, Yochanan spun around and continued walking up the hill.

“Stop,” Michael said. “I need to talk to you.”

He scurried up the embankment, walking side by side with him. “I need to know where you’re going.”

“I am going to listen to the preacher talk. Is there anything more you need to know?”

“Where are you going after you hear the preacher speak?”

“I do not know. Wherever my heart tells me to go.” Yochanan glared at him with a menacing look. “Why are you interested in where I am going?”

Michael noticed Yochanan’s muscular forearms and stepped back. “I’m sorry I’ve bothered you.”

He stayed a few steps behind, cloaked behind a large family, never losing track of the light blue robe. Yochanan settled near a big rock with some shade. Michael remained about thirty feet from him. He watched him drop his head as if deep in thought and caught him twice wiping his eyes with his garment.

He’s grieving. Probably over his daughter. This is all ma
k
ing sense now. What do I say? Should I tell him I know Leah? How do I warn him? He’ll think I’m crazy telling him what might happen if he isn’t careful. I wonder how long it’s been since his daughter died?

Watching Yochanan unleashed an avalanche of emotions in Michael. He mulled over what he was going to say, knowing he needed to be sensitive. He laid a hand on Yochanan’s shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit with you to listen to the preacher?” Michael asked. “I’m alone and could use some company. You look like you could use a friend too.”

Yochanan’s face was smeared from his dirty hands. “Leave me alone.”

Michael held out his hand and introduced himself. “Do you want to talk?”

“I do not have much to say.”

“You don’t need to. I’m here as your friend.”

“Why?”

“It’s what the rabbi believes. So do I.”

“You must be a strong follower.”

“Sometimes I am. My faith grows every day. What about you?”

“I have listened to many so-called wise men over the past months but I hear of this rabbi from friends. I am filled with doubt. My heart has been broken.”

Michael absorbed the seriousness in Yochanan’s voice. He recollected when Leah told him the sad story on the rooftop the last time he visited Jerusalem and how she blamed herself. “What is bothering you?”

Yochanan took a half-hearted breath. “It is my daughter.” His body slumped. “One day she was laughing and playing, the next day she was sick. I tried to find someone to help her. I went to many neighbors’ houses. I prayed and I prayed. But prayer did not help.”

Yochanan lowered his head more. “I did not protect my daughter. I have hurt my wife. I have caused her so much pain.”

Michael crouched down to his level. “How,Yochanan? How have you caused her so much pain?”

“I could not help my angel. I have hurt my Leah, my love. I cannot go home,” he said, sounding defeated.

The words ripped through Michael’s heart. Leah had told him how she’d felt guilty for not reaching Yochanan emotionally. She grieved for years, blaming herself for his terrible fate. And here he was, claiming culpability in his daughter’s death. Yochanan and Leah loved each other so deeply that they were destroying themselves.

“I know having a child leaves us vulnerable in so many ways. The world can be cruel and unfair. But you must not blame yourself.”

Yochanan lifted his head. “I could not look into my wife’s eyes anymore. I failed her.”

“You didn’t fail her. She felt terrible about what happened, you –”

Michael stopped himself and backed away.

Yochanan’s face reddened. “You know my wife?”

“No, I don’t. But I believe she must be feeling terrible and is missing you badly. It sounds like you love each other very much. You must go back and talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”

Yochanan nodded. “I will go back tonight. First, I want to hear the rabbi speak.”

I knew this was the reason why the tunnel opened again. It’s giving me a chance to help Leah and Yochanan.

Michael realized what he had done. His heart absorbed a bittersweet emotion that left him both sad and happy.

It doesn’t matter how I feel about Leah. It matters that they have a chance at happiness together again.

The crowd swarmed around Him as He moved up the high hills, the terrain wide, big enough to hold a thousand people. He continued to climb several more feet until He located an elevated area high enough so that the throng could hear His voice clearly. Elderly women, perhaps soon taking their final steps in this world, pushed forward with determination, extending their trembling hands to Jesus.

The apostles acted like security guards, surrounding Jesus as He reached out with visible enthusiasm to touch every loving gesture. A woman nearby with long, straight hair smiled widely, patting the children on their heads, wishing parents strength and happiness.

In awe and unable to move, Michael absorbed the feverish atmosphere.

Yochanan smiled. “There He is, my friend.”

Michael didn’t answer. He allowed himself to mentally float, soaking up the reactions of the children cheering while the elderly put their hands together, closed their eyes and prayed.

There were skeptics too, displaying expressions of scorn. Jesus worked the crowd like a rock star on stage.

“You do not represent my God,” shouted a cynic. “You lead only a group of sheep and not warriors.”

Jesus turned and smiled. “There will be many who stand in my shoes and talk for me and shout the same cries. Their gold will glitter and impress you. Beware of those who feel the need to wield their swords in the name of my Father’s Kingdom.”

Now finished with his climb, He waited a minute longer to give the crowd an opportunity to find a space to sit or stand. Then He addressed His followers, holding His hands up. The final faint cries from the worshippers died down and an absolute hush swept across the small mountain.

Michael and Yochanan half-kneeled and half-sat about a hundred feet away from Jesus. His dark brown, shoulder length hair danced from a sudden gust of wind. His soft brown eyes scanned the masses. He touched his reddish brown beard and held up his hands.

Michael never lost eye contact with Jesus. When his view was blocked, he stood. Yochanan mirrored his every move.

Jesus stared at Michael, taking a few steps forward, His head now above a small group of women huddled near a small tree. “My friends,” Jesus said. Then He paused. “Some of you have traveled many steps to join me on our path to salvation.”

The crowd stilled. “Many of you are taking your travel slowly as your once strong legs have become weakened from age or sickness. There are those who are without food some days or are without treasures. And there are some here who are children, innocent yet burdened with your plight.”

He smiled. “It does not matter. We are here today as one. We are here to join my Father in his Kingdom.”

The quiet of the crowd was numbing, more peaceful than Michael ever experienced. Yochanan kept still, eyes closed, whispering soft prayers.

Jesus moved from east to west as hordes of people encircled Him, hoping to touch His hands or robe while the apostles cleared a trail. He stopped in front of two men.

“Why should we follow a man who tells us even the poor and the thieves deserve God’s love?” asked one man, his arms folded in defiance.

“My father’s Kingdom awaits everyone. Those who have sinned often, those who do not. Ask my Father for forgiveness with your heart.”

His feet anchored in the fertile ground, Jesus fixed His gaze on the men. One carried a long, narrow spear. When the man tightened the grip on the weapon, Jesus grasped his arm. Several apostles raced to His aid but Jesus stopped their advance with a wave of His hand. “When the world strikes you with force, seek those who wish to join you in peace. Beware of those who say they believe in my Father’s Kingdom but do nothing to find men of peace. Let the swords of hate whither in eternal death as the doves of peace are given a place in my Father’s Kingdom.”

Jesus released His grip on the man’s arm. A dove rose from the spear and floated to the sky. The crowd murmured and rose. Michael’s eyes widened as he watched the dove ascend to the heavens.

Jesus strolled several feet higher on the hill. “My children,” He said. “Those who believe victory can be won by swords will not find a place by my Father’s side.” He walked toward Michael and Yochanan. “Seek out those who comfort, those who love, those who provide shelter, those who feed the hungry, and those who clothe the naked.”

A man with a scarred face and a mangled leg leaned on his cane and shouted, “You tell me not to use my sword. Look at what the Romans did to me!” His voice shook with anger as his hand fiercely clenched the wooden stick. He tried to limp toward Jesus. “You better tell your Father they should burn in hell for what they did.”

Jesus held an intent and sympathetic stare on the man.

“Will I be in heaven for what they did to me?” the angry man continued, ranting. “Will they burn in hell?”

Jesus faced the anguished man and steadied his hand. “My friend,” He said, softly. “It is not for us to judge another man’s words or actions. When my Father asks us to come before Him, it will be He who makes the final judgment.”

The man steadied himself on his cane, his face full of sorrow. He lowered his head and remained quiet.

Jesus flashed a comforting smile and turned away, walking back up the hill. “There is no answer for those who have hurt us,” He told the crowd. “The only answer we need is when my Father calls us to his Kingdom. Only He will have the final answer.”

His voice became more firm, almost amplified. “Beware of those who judge the weak, the sick, the poor, and the sinners. Beware of those who deceive with false promises in exchange for your treasures.” His voice trailed off as He comforted a woman holding a sick little girl. He held the mother’s hand, His presence mending the distraught woman’s grief. Jesus touched the child’s hand for a moment, His face full of empathy. “Woman, do not cry,” He said, wiping away the tears under her eyes. “Be strong.”

“How can we speak to our Father?” a woman cried out, running a few steps behind Him and kneeling in reverence.

Jesus responded, never losing contact with the mother’s hand. “There are many ways,” He said. “Comfort your neighbor when she is ill. Feed your brother when he can not work. Clothe your sister when she is cold. Shelter your friends when they have nowhere to go. Love your enemy when he is wounded.”

He released His hold on the woman as she screamed in joy. The little girl struggled from her mother’s grasp and stood.

Michael’s heart raced. “My Lord,” he whispered. “My Lord.”

“Seek out my Father through prayer,” Jesus cried out.

“How?” shouted a man from an area higher up on the hill.

Jesus walked slowly in the direction of Michael and Yochanan.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name,” His voice boomed. “Thy Kingdom come…”

Michael got to his feet and lowered his head as Jesus stood in front of him.

Yochanan stood too. “I am not sure what to do,” he whispered.

“Thy will be done,” Michael joined in. “On earth as it is in heaven.”

Yochanan’s eyes widened. Michael’s voice trembled as he said the words along with Jesus. They were the only two speaking. “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation.”

Michael dropped to his knees as Jesus held onto his arm. “But deliver us from evil.”

Jesus paused and signaled the crowd He was done.

“Amen,” the crowd yelled in worship.

A woman knelt before Jesus.

Jesus lifted her up with His right hand. “Woman, I see you are troubled today.”

“I am, Rabbi.”

“Do not be troubled. Pray to my Father, let your heart beat openly for His help, be strong with your faith, disregard the temptations of this world. Go home to your families, cherish these words. Live these words. Beware of the many who speak my words with beauty yet do not live them. Beware of those who attract the masses and ask you for your treasures. Be humble in the face of glory.”

Jesus disappeared among the apostles as the crowd began to disperse.

Michael looked at his friend. “Incredible, isn’t it?”

“I need to talk to Him, Michael.” Yochanan was met by four apostles and a woman with long, brown hair.

“What do you need with the Rabbi?” asked the biggest man.

“He’s a follower, Peter,” interjected the woman. “Do you want to speak to Him?”

Peter frowned.

“My friend would like to express some thoughts with the Rabbi,” said Michael. “He means no harm.”

“When the Rabbi is ready, I will ask Him.”

Yochanan nodded.

The crowd milled around Him. They could see an old woman with a wooden stick talking to Him while several apostles kept guard like the secret service protecting the President of the United States.

I wonder which one is Thomas? Is that John? He looks the youngest
.
I know Peter. Where is Judas? I don’t see him. I wo
n
der where he is.

Yochanan interrupted Michael’s mental guess-the-apostle-game. “My friend, how is it you know what the Rabbi says as He says it?”

Michael hesitated. He looked over at Jesus and shrugged. “I don’t. It seemed familiar to me.” Yochanan eyed him and Michael admitted, “It was the first time I said it with any feeling in many years.”

“Many years?”

“Many sunsets ago.”

“So this is a prayer you have heard many sunsets ago?”

“How can I explain? It’s something I’ve heard before but never felt compelled to say from my heart. Until today.”