The Galilean Secret: A Novel (4 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

WHEN GABRIEL SAW THE LIGHTNING, HE GRABBED NICODEMUS BEN GORION’S ARM AND STEERED HIM TOWARD THE PROTECTION OF THE HILLSIDE. They were traveling to Nain, in Lower Galilee. After Gabriel had failed to find Judith and bring her back, he was glad for an excuse to get out of Jerusalem. Walking with a cane, Nicodemus stumbled momentarily on the rocky ground. Gabriel steadied him and then took the old man’s bag, carrying it with his own. A glance at the darkening sky told him that they must move fast. If they didn’t, fist-size hailstones could pelt them or they could get swept away by a flash flood, common during Galilean winters.

They must find shelter. Gabriel regretted that they had taken four days to travel from Jerusalem to Galilee through Samaria. It usually took three. Though spry for his age, Nicodemus walked slowly. They had hoped to reach Nain by nightfall. Now, at twilight, it was impossible.

Gabriel knew that Nicodemus’ old friend Simon ben Ephraim would be worried about them. The two Pharisees had met during their rabbinical training in Jerusalem and remained friends. Simon had invited Nicodemus to a meal he was hosting the next afternoon for Jesus of Nazareth. Thankfully Nain was now less than five miles away.

The gusting winds whipped up a cloud of dust, but no storm could dampen Gabriel’s burning need. He would meet the Galilean rabbi and ask for his help against the Zealots. He believed that Jesus might be able to sway large groups to stop Dismas and Judith from causing a slaughter of the Jews. And if the tide turned against the violence, perhaps Judith would see her folly and come back to Gabriel.

He cupped one hand over his eyes; with the other he held on to Nicodemus. Massive clouds now rolled in, turning the sky almost totally dark. When the rain started, it came down in torrents. Gabriel nudged Nicodemus toward a cave in the hillside and caught a whiff of wet dust, pungent and arresting. Fierce winds created updrafts that sent them stumbling forward. Gabriel fought for his balance and led Nicodemus toward the cave. “You go ahead,” the old man said. “I will be fine.”

Gabriel clung to him. “No. I won’t leave you.” His words were drowned out by thunderclaps so loud that he felt them resound in his bones. In the dim light he could see beads of water streaming down Nicodemus’ cheeks, drenching his long white beard. Gabriel pressed on through the storm, head down, one hand shielding his face from the downpour, the other leading Nicodemus. After they reached the cave, they huddled inside and looked out, protected first from the driving rain and then from the pounding hail.

By the time the storm ended, night had fallen. Gabriel reached into his bag for a dry tunic, put it on, and helped Nicodemus change into another robe. Meanwhile the sky was clearing and the moon had begun to rise. Gabriel spread out his mat, withdrew bread and cheese from the bag, and offered it to Nicodemus, who appeared exhausted.

“It has been a long journey,” Gabriel said. “You must rest, rabbi.”

“I am too old for these travels, my son. I would not have come this far except to see Jesus.”

“I’m eager to meet him because some of his teachings perplex me.” Nicodemus took the bread and cheese. “When I first met him, I was also perplexed.”

“I keep wondering how his teachings can make a difference to me personally.” As Gabriel spoke the words, he hoped that Nicodemus would answer a deeper question:
How can I ever trust again after such a crushing betrayal?
Gabriel glanced up at the night sky, now clear of clouds.

Nicodemus fixed his gaze on him. “Jesus tells us that if we want to be his disciples, we must be willing to suffer and die for him. This teaching sounds difficult because we want our lives to be easier, not harder. But the teaching contains a hidden truth: The more skilled we become at accepting our pain, the more we find its deeper meaning. We grow toward acceptance when we examine our suffering and ask what it has to teach us. We often suffer because of unfulfilled desires, which leave us feeling like victims. They then increase our anger, lust and envy.”

Nicodemus paused and leaned closer to Gabriel. “To break this cycle, we must learn to be happy with who we are and what we have. You longed for Judith to become your wife, and when she ran away, you felt rejected, betrayed, enraged. Your attachment to her is what is causing your pain. If you can let go of her and surrender your desire to God, you will find the beginning of freedom. Desire will not have the same power over you because your emptiness is filled from within.”

Gabriel frowned. “I have always followed the law. Are you saying that’s not good enough?”

Nicodemus held up a hand. “I am not saying it—Jesus is. He is an observant Jew like you and me, but his message goes deeper than religion. My conversation with him shocked me. He said that religion can actually keep us from God. When the law and rituals become our focus, we miss the love that can give us new life. Jesus invites us to find this love in what he calls the ‘kingdom of God.’ In the kingdom we find peace with God, others and ourselves.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “How does this relate to me specifically?”

Understanding spread across Nicodemus’ wrinkled face. “I have learned that falling in love is about the soul. Our yearning for another person is part of our lifelong yearning for God. You cannot heal heartbreak externally but only from within, at a deeper level.”

“How is that possible?” Gabriel asked, unable to hide his despair.

Nicodemus gave him a reassuring smile. “You must understand that when a relationship dies, part of you dies with it. You must allow yourself to mourn the death, while keeping the love and goodness that you experienced in the relationship alive. In this way you can be born anew. With God nothing is ever lost, so every experience, even the most painful ones, can mold our souls for eternity. People who do not understand this get lost in their suffering because they see it as meaningless.”

Gabriel got up and began to pace. “Well, isn’t it meaningless?” He jabbed the air with a fist, the pain in his heart as intense as ever.

Nicodemus remained calm. “No, it is not. We are children of light, created in God’s image with an eternal purpose to fulfill. Dying through our heartbreak and being born anew give us the spiritual awareness that Jesus has.” He stood and gently squeezed Gabriel’s shoulder. “When we embrace the light and love he brings—and are embraced by them—we find the healing we need.”

Gabriel closed his eyes, reflecting on what Nicodemus had said. “I don’t understand everything you’ve told me, but I feel better for listening.”

Nicodemus patted his shoulder. “Jesus’ teachings apply directly to you. Judith and Dismas hurt you deeply. But forgiveness is the way to healing.”

“Forgiveness! After what Judith and Dismas did? I could never forgive them.”

“Perhaps you are confusing forgiving with excusing,” Nicodemus said. “You cannot excuse Judith and Dismas: Their actions were not only wrong but also unjust and cruel. Forgiveness doesn’t ask you to pretend that the wrong never happened. It invites you to let go of your pain and turn it over to God. Jesus places forgiveness at the heart of love. You don’t forgive for the other person’s sake but for your own. Forgiving is the only way to heal hurt and hate.”

Gabriel clenched his hands into fists. “I’m too angry to even consider it.”

Nicodemus turned away for a moment, then turned back to him. “Haven’t Judith and Dismas hurt you enough? Don’t let them ruin the rest of your life.”

Gabriel felt the cold settle around his heart and he set his jaw. “I can’t talk myself into forgiving them. They should be stoned or sold into slavery.”

Nicodemus reached out to touch his arm. “If you really love Judith, how can you wish her harm? True love wants what is best for another person. When we acknowledge our sins, we forgive out of our need for forgiveness.”

Gabriel was breathing heavily, torn between wanting revenge and admitting that Nicodemus might be right. He put the food away, sat down on his mat and stared at the old man. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your reports about Jesus. I hope that meeting him will give me the serenity I see in you.”

Nicodemus smiled. Gabriel handed him a blanket and took one for himself. After lying down and pulling the blanket to his chin, he gazed out at the stars. He wondered where Dismas and Judith were. Perhaps they were wandering in the desert, lost. Perhaps bandits had robbed them and left them for dead. Why should he care? He wanted them to pay for what they had done. To feel the rejection and loss he had felt. Dismas and Judith should be caught and punished. Gabriel felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle.

The images of Judith and Dismas became clearer in his mind, and he admitted he
did
care. Both of them occupied revered places in his heart: Judith was the only woman he had ever loved, and Dismas was his only brother. Nicodemus’ words came back to him: “We do not forgive for the other person’s sake but for our own. Forgiving is the only way to heal hurt and hate.”

Gabriel had heard Nicodemus relate Jesus’ teachings about forgiveness, but could not see how the words directly applied to him. Even the thought of forgiveness seemed to be a betrayal of the justice he needed to seek against Dismas. But as he lay there admiring the glittering stars and clinging to the blanket for warmth, he wondered if Nicodemus were right.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “You are at a crossroads, my son,” Nicodemus said. “One path leads to hate and destruction, the other to reconciliation and healing. I encourage you to take the latter. It is the only way to become complete, as God is complete.”

Gabriel lay awake thinking about this goal, unsure he could ever achieve it. He hoped the Galilean rabbi could show him how.

W
hen Gabriel and Nicodemus arrived at Simon ben Ephraim’s house at noon the next day, they found it crowded with guests. About thirty men and women were gathered around a table in the courtyard, some sitting, some standing. Gabriel could tell by the guests’ clothing that some were wealthy, others poor. Near the entrance, children were playing beside the fountain. When several of Jesus’ disciples recognized Nicodemus, they came over and embraced him joyfully.

He introduced Gabriel to the heavyset Matthew and to the bearded brothers, James and John, as well as to several women disciples of Jesus. One of these, a striking, fine-boned woman named Mary Magdalene, carried herself with such dignity that she made an unforgettable impression on Gabriel. Nicodemus took him aside and whispered, “She is Jesus’ special friend.” Gabriel marveled at Mary Magdalene’s slender but regal bearing, her exquisitely molded features, delicately contoured lips and smooth olive skin stretched taut on high, elegant cheekbones.

He thought it was strange that few of the guests were eating the meal—roast lamb, lentils, beans, salad and bread. Only when he listened to the young man who was discussing the law of Moses did he understand. His words mesmerized the members of his audience, who were asking him why his teachings had offended the Pharisees.

So this is Jesus of Nazareth.

Gabriel felt disappointed by the man’s appearance. After hearing Nicodemus describe how the controversial rabbi had affected him, Gabriel was expecting someone with a striking face and commanding build—someone larger than life. But his first impression was of a rather ordinary-looking man, broad-shouldered but on the gangly side, with strong features, long arms and large hands.

Only when he focused on the man’s eyes, with their mysterious, determined gaze, and heard the authority in his voice, did Gabriel understand Nicodemus’ devotion. Jesus’ eyes locked on Gabriel’s briefly, and the look penetrated to his heart.

Jesus was lamenting how religion without love harms people. “When the law becomes an idol,” he said, “it no longer serves its intended purpose: to teach love for God and neighbor. My concern with the Pharisees is that they judge who is acceptable and who is not. Outcasts get mocked and shunned. They see themselves as unclean and wallow in self-hatred.”

Gabriel edged closer, feeling the hot press of the crowd.

Jesus moved his fathomless eyes from face to face. “I have come not to condemn, but to heal and save,” he said. Then he continued in an urgent voice, “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

Gabriel’s throat tightened. He yearned to have his burden lifted. A woman sitting near Jesus began to weep and turned slightly in Gabriel’s direction. The low-cut neckline of her blue tunic revealed the generous swell of her breasts. Her kohl-ringed eyes shone with the sparkle of black diamonds. Her raven hair, as lustrous as polished jade, reached below her shoulders, a telling sign of her shameful trade.

She purposely let her tears fall on Jesus’ feet and then tilted her head so that her hair brushed against the wet spots. After a bit she massaged his feet and slowly bathed and dried them. During this most intimate of gestures, Jesus continued speaking of love as being the fulfillment of the law.

Gabriel looked away, unable to watch what struck him as blatant hypocrisy.
How can this man let a prostitute caress him in front of Mary, the woman he supposedly loves?
Gabriel’s rage turned his eyes blurry. It appeared that Jesus was doing to Mary Magdalene what Dismas and Judith had done to him. Gabriel bit his tongue to keep from crying out.