The Galilean Secret: A Novel (5 page)
Read The Galilean Secret: A Novel Online
Authors: Evan Howard
As Jesus spoke, the woman took ointment from the alabaster jar she was carrying and began to anoint and kiss his feet. Gabriel noticed Mary Magdalene frowning. He understood her pain, so similar to his own. She was obviously in love with Jesus, but did he even care? Gabriel watched as Mary diverted her eyes, crimson-faced, lips quivering. Then, brushing away a few silent tears, she stood and fled the courtyard.
As the prostitute continued to anoint and kiss Jesus’ feet, other guests covered their mouths in disbelief or shook their heads in disgust. All this time Jesus appeared calm. Gabriel shook his head and backed away, unable to understand why a rabbi would allow this shameful behavior. A few of the women left with their children. Gabriel wanted to yell at Jesus, to demand to know why he would callously offend so many of his friends.
The Nazarene is making a mockery of Nicodemus’ praise of him.
Gabriel considered leaving, for he now saw not a compassionate healer but a self-serving impostor.
Would a true rabbi condone a prostitute’s scandalous behavior?
Gabriel started out, but a stir in the room stopped him. The guests were murmuring, their eyes turned toward Simon ben Ephraim. The round-faced host in the elegant purple robe pursed his lips and shook his head. He pointed at the woman and began to condemn her, but Jesus interrupted him with a story about two debtors, one who owed a lot, the other a little. Neither could pay, but their creditor was a generous man and canceled both debts. Jesus stared directly at Simon and asked, “Which of them will love him more?”
“I suppose the one for whom he canceled the larger debt,” Simon said.
“You have judged rightly.” Jesus gestured toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” Then he said to the woman, “Your sins are forgiven.”
At these words Gabriel’s chest tightened and his stomach began to spin. The other guests were whispering, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” Stunned by what he had heard, Gabriel turned and left the courtyard.
I
n the front of the house Gabriel encountered four women talking to Mary Magdalene. Two were holding on to her arms, trying to convince her not to leave. “But I must,” she told them, tearing her arms away. “How can I trust a man who shames me? I must go to my relatives in Jerusalem.”
She started down the dusty street, which was surrounded by one-story homes. Gabriel ran to catch up. “Mary, please wait. I must talk with you.” He pulled up beside her. She ignored him and kept walking in the direction of Nain’s south gate. Breathing heavily, he said, “You must not travel through Samaria alone. Bandits roam the passes.”
She shot him an angry glance. “I can protect myself.”
He glimpsed her stormy dark eyes and wondered if she felt about Jesus the way he did about Judith. “I, too, was shocked at what that woman did to Jesus. I’m trying to understand why he let her anoint him.”
Mary Magdalene spoke impatiently. “What is there to understand? No respectable man allows a prostitute to kiss his feet.” She paused, shook her head and then started walking again. “He told me that he loved me. If this is what he thinks love is, I want no part of it.”
Gabriel strained to keep up. “What are you saying?”
“What do you call it when a man shares his heart with you, and tells you that he loves you, and then allows a prostitute to anoint him in public? I call it betrayal.” Her last words dissolved into muffled sobs.
Gabriel reached out to touch her hand, but she glared and pulled away. He raised his voice. “I, too, have known betrayal. My betrothed ran away with my brother.” She turned and met his gaze as he went on. “I came here looking for solace, but like you, I found disappointment. If you wait until I bring Nicodemus, we’ll accompany you through Samaria.”
“No, I can’t wait.” Her eyes bore into his, glinting with resolve. “If you really know how betrayal feels, you will understand.” Mary began to run and yelled over her shoulder, “I must go to Jerusalem and forget that I ever knew Jesus.”
Gabriel realized what he must do—he could not let her travel alone. He turned to run back for Nicodemus. When he reached the people standing outside the house, he found Nicodemus holding a scroll and talking with some of the women. The Pharisee was defending Jesus, saying, “He came to teach us that true religion is not about following the law or being good; it’s about loving God and one another. That’s why he allowed the prostitute to anoint him. He was acting out one of his parables.” Nicodemus saw Gabriel and waved. “I’m glad you didn’t leave without me,” he said, moving toward him. “Jesus wanted to speak with me before I left.” Nicodemus kept his voice low and held up the scroll. “He gave me this for Mary Magdalene.”
“What is it?”
“A letter he wrote her. He said he addressed it to Mary, but that the letter contains a message for all people. She ran out before he could give it to her. He wants me to tell Mary that he knows she is angry, but that once she reads the letter, she will understand everything.”
“We must go now and quickly,” Gabriel said, nudging him. “Mary Magdalene has already left, and we must not let her travel alone. Besides, we have important matters to discuss with her.”
“More important than you realize,” Nicodemus said, putting the scroll in his bag.
Gabriel urged him forward. “After what happened here, I was confused. Now I’m also intrigued.”
Nicodemus picked up the bag and put his free arm around Gabriel as they began to walk. “There’s much that you do not understand about Jesus, my son. He offered that sinful woman grace—our free and complete acceptance by God. We can’t earn God’s love. Our best deeds can’t make us worthy of it, nor can our worst deeds deprive us of this love. Grace means that God totally accepts us, no matter what we do or fail to do. Jesus has come to lavish this miraculous gift on us, to offer us forgiveness, and to lead us to life abundant and eternal. What better way to demonstrate grace than to show compassion to a prostitute?”
Gabriel hurried the older man along. “But look at the price he paid. He offended many of his friends—even the woman he claims to love.”
Nicodemus strained to keep pace. “Gabriel, you do not understand how radical Jesus is. He cares little about social or religious expectations, only about doing God’s will. He may even offend people to make a point. We’re all like the sinful woman: in need of grace to heal us of guilt, shame and despair. If we aren’t healed, we doubt our worth. We may even fall into self-hatred, as prostitutes do. Only by appealing to God’s unfailing acceptance can we regain belief in ourselves. Wasn’t it worth offending a few people to demonstrate the power of grace?”
Gabriel didn’t answer but walked on in silence, intent on catching up with Mary Magdalene. He held Nicodemus’ arm and pulled him along, reflecting on his words, which reminded him of their earlier conversations about forgiveness. He asked himself,
Is Judith an adulteress who deserves to be stoned or sold into slavery? Or is she a wounded woman who, like the prostitute, needs love?
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as his heartbeat quickened. Remembering the anguish on Mary Magdalene’s face, Gabriel had to question Jesus’ methods. Yes, he had taught a lesson about forgiveness, but the woman he loved was suffering as a result. Couldn’t he have found a better way?
Sweat began to flow down Gabriel’s face. He raised an arm and wiped his forehead with his tunic. His head ached as he struggled with what to believe about Jesus. Could he trust this unpredictable rabbi? Would Jesus let him down?
Perhaps Nicodemus was right: Jesus had shown extraordinary grace to the prostitute to demonstrate God’s love. Or perhaps Mary Magdalene was right: Jesus had betrayed her. Gabriel must settle the matter for himself. To help him do that, he had to catch up to Mary Magdalene. Each step became more urgent than the last.
CHAPTER SIX
Present Day
The end of loneliness lies not in clever techniques for finding and keeping love, but rather in gaining insight into the essence of love itself—and into how one’s heart can become new. The insight and the newness are as closely related as salt and the sea. But the natural mind does not understand this; it is shrouded in illusion. Only by acknowledging the darkness can we take the first step toward the light. God’s own heart, in which the essence of love resides, invites us home. The briefest glimpse of this essence provides inspiration for the journey. Unlimited growth lies ahead, turning ignorance into deep knowing. The source of our greatest power.
—Brother Gregory Andreou’s Journal
Bethlehem
Monday, April 1
WE MUST DO THIS QUICKLY. THE ABBOT WILL BE COMING SOON.” Brother Gregory Andreou’s hazel eyes darted in all directions as he pulled Karim Musalaha into his modest room at the Holy Angels Monastery. Karim had been hiding at the monastery south of Bethlehem for nearly a month, still haunted by the attack at Qumran. Brother Gregory’s urgent tone reminded him of his attacker’s demanding voice, injecting cold terror into Karim’s veins. He still wondered where the man had come from and why he was so desperate to get the scroll. After such a vicious attack, Karim needed to know whether the scroll was worth fighting for. Only a language scholar like Brother Gregory could tell him, but Karim had to leave in an hour. It was time to see the translation—even though it wasn’t completely finished.
When Karim first took the scroll to Brother Gregory, the Greek Orthodox monk and scholar had informed him that, under the law, it belonged to the State of Israel. But Karim had persuaded him to begin translating it. After fending off the attack, Karim felt that he at least deserved to know what the writing said. Because of Brother Gregory’s good standing with the Government Antiquities Agency, he went along. Brother Gregory planned to finish the translation and then take it to the GAA along with the scroll, revealing what Karim had found.
Karim’s lungs heaved as he ducked into the dormitory-like apartment and watched the portly, white-bearded monk close and bolt the door. Brother Gregory’s appearance was a sharp contrast to Karim’s athletic build, dark hair and eyes, and above-average height. He envied the monk’s full white eyebrows because his would never look as distinguished. A quarter of his right brow had been missing since it was scraped on the cement during a fight years ago.
He closed his eyes and promised himself that no matter what Brother Gregory told him, he would never return to Nablus or serve in his father’s militia. Instead he would follow through on his plan to join the peace movement. In an hour he would leave for the protests against the Israeli separation barrier in the West Bank village of Bil’in, near Ramallah. But not without learning the truth about the scroll.
“Come over here,” Brother Gregory said, taking Karim’s arm. The monk led him to his desk, above which hung icons of Jesus and the Virgin Mary. “What I have to tell you must be kept secret.” The spry elderly monk bowed and then latched on to Karim’s hands and squeezed. “I’ve translated most of the scroll, as you asked.” Brother Gregory’s lips trembled slightly. “And now I must honor you as a messenger of God.”
Karim stepped back and shook his head. “Why would you say such a thing? I’m a Muslim. I honor the Prophet Muhammad—may peace be upon him—as Allah’s messenger.”
Brother Gregory tightened his grip on Karim’s hands. “Once you read the translation, you will understand.” The monk scooped up some papers from his desk. “Here’s a copy of what I have translated so far. It’s in English, the language I use for most of my projects. These words are sacred. They affected me so powerfully”—he fell silent, as though struggling to continue—“I started a journal of my responses.”
He sat on the bed and motioned for Karim to take the desk chair. “The words are from a letter that Jesus of Nazareth wrote Mary Magdalene. I photographed the scroll and then deposited it in a vault at the Bank of Bethlehem. Using the photos, I have translated all but the last section of the scroll.” Once again firmly in control of his emotions, he held up the stapled pages. “This is a copy of my work.”
Karim felt as if the desert wind were blowing through his heart. Brother Gregory was a scholar and a man of God—he wouldn’t lie. But how could his words be true? “A letter from Jesus? That’s impossible!”
The monk shook his head. “Hard to believe, yes, but not impossible. Hundreds of ancient manuscripts or fragments of them have been found in the caves of Qumran. This one is the most priceless of all. We know that Jesus was educated because he read in the synagogue in Nazareth. He also wrote. We see him do so in the story of the woman taken in adultery, in the Gospel of John.”
“So you believe that the letter is authentic?”
Brother Gregory clutched his heart. “The voice I hear sounds like that of Jesus Christ in the New Testament. Just as important, the letter reflects his teachings, while offering further explanations. Perhaps Jesus wrote a letter in the hope that it would be discovered by future generations.”
Karim raised his eyebrows. “As a Muslim, I call Jesus ‘Isa’ and honor him as a prophet. But my allegiance is to the Prophet Muhammad—may peace be upon him. My destiny lies with
him
.”