The Redeemer (14 page)

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Authors: Linda Rios Brook

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BOOK: The Redeemer
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“And that’s not all,” the young man blurted out. “He also healed the daughter of a Gentile; completely ignoring other Jews who could have used healing.”

“I see,” said John as he stroked his beard. “I suppose there’s nothing wrong with healing people who are not Jews. He was always like that. I remember He healed a bird once when we were boys.”

“Rabbi,” the middle man said, “the problem is that’s
all
He’s doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s surrounded himself with a motley crew of hangers-on who barely speak in complete sentences. He finds time to take them to wedding banquets, and you know how long those things drag on. They go to parties at rich people’s houses. He insults our priests and teachers on a regular basis. His healing crusades have turned into circuses—anything to draw a crowd. He finds time to do everything except the one thing the true Messiah is supposed to do: free Israel from Roman rule. When people bring it up, He won’t talk about it.”

I knew the wedding and parties were mistakes.

“I see,” John said as he stepped back from the window.

“John,” the oldest spoke in a compassionate voice, “I know He’s your friend, but is He really? Has He come to see you while you’ve been in prison?”

“No, but I didn’t expect anything of Him.”

“Rabbi, you must consider the possibility that He isn’t…”

“Isn’t what?” John shot back. “Isn’t the Messiah? Is that what this visit is about?”

Isn’t the Messiah? You know better than that, John.

None of the three answered him as they looked at one another then looked away.

“That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

They nodded, but no one spoke.

John took hold of the window bars with one hand and wiped something from his eye with the other.

“John, we have to find out the truth. We’ve been fooled before.”

“Have it your way,” he said reluctantly. “Go to Him and ask Him if He’s the expected one, or should we look for someone else?”

The three bowed their heads toward John then went quickly in search of Jesus. I followed right behind them wishing I could tell them exactly what I thought of their assessment of Jesus, except maybe when it came to the wedding wine and partying, which I had to admit didn’t look Messiah-like, and I distinctly remember having said so at the time.

As usual, we found Him in the center of a crowd of people who were engaged by what He was saying about the kingdom of God. When He saw John’s disciples, He motioned them forward.

“Rabbi,” the oldest said. “John has sent us to You with a question.”

“Ask,” Jesus replied.

The look in his eyes said the man was concerned about the crowd, especially when he saw the priests and teachers among them.

“Can we speak privately?”

“I have nothing to hide,” Jesus answered.

“Go ahead,” said the youngest. “Ask Him.”

“It’s nothing personal, Jesus.” John’s disciple checked the mood of the crowd out one more time before speaking. “Are You the Messiah, or should we be expecting someone else?”

The man stepped back quickly as boos arose from the people.

“Who do you think you are to question the Son of Man?”

“John’s jealous, that’s all.”

“He shouldn’t have been so hard-nosed and got himself arrested.”

Jesus stepped closer and faced His inquisitor directly.

“Go back and report to John what you hear and see: the blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed. The deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.”

Jesus paused and put His hand on the man’s shoulder to pull him closer and said privately.

“Tell John to finish strong. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble because I have not met his expectations.”

Need I say John’s disciples did not like Jesus’ answer in the least? Without a further word, the three of them walked away quickly. As they were leaving, the crowd continued to criticize John, especially the priests and elders.

“The nerve of them.”

“John brought it on himself. No one appointed him to judge anybody.”

“The people are right,” said one of the priests. “John even accused us of sin and told us we needed to repent.”

Jesus held up His hand and called for silence.

“Think back to why you went to the river to be baptized by John. What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A man without conviction? A reed swayed by the wind? Or did you go to see a prophet?”

Murmurs swept through the people.

“Of course you did, and I tell you John is more than a prophet. Among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist. From the days of John until now, the kingdom of heaven has been subjected to plundering, and violent people have been raiding it. But now all of that is changing for your sakes. All the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John, and if you are willing to accept it, he is the Elijah who was to come before Me.”

“Elijah?” scoffed the priest. “I don’t think so. The man was a right-wing zealot, nothing more.”

“He had a holier-than-thou attitude about everything,” said an elder.

“You people cannot be satisfied,” Jesus said sharply as He threw His hands up to show His frustration. “John came neither eating nor drinking, and you’ve called him a legalist. I come eating and drinking, and what do you say about Me when you don’t get your way? You say I’m a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.”

Then Jesus began to denounce the towns in which most of His miracles had been performed and where most of the people in the crowd that day had come from because they would not repent of what they’d said about John. I’d never seen Jesus so annoyed before. The crowd was afraid and began to pull back from Him. I must admit I pulled back with them and hid behind a fat woman. Even if things got ugly I was pretty sure Jesus wouldn’t hit a woman. After He thoroughly chastised them, He saw their fear and took pity on them. He was like His Father that way; couldn’t stay mad. He held out His arms and called them to Him.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

“What about me, Jesus?” I said as I tried to move in closer. “That’s me You’re describing. These people live short, meaningless lives then die and escape to Abraham’s Bosom, where it’s beautiful and peaceful—I’ve seen it. They don’t know what endless suffering is. They don’t know what it means to be in bondage to a tyrant for centuries.”

“Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me,” He continued, “for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.”

With tears streaming down their faces, the people hurried up to be embraced by Jesus.

I was the first one in line.

C
HAPTER 17

I
FOUND MYSELF THINKING
a lot about John after that.

I wonder if he knows how Jesus defended him against the crowd? Probably not. His disciples were already gone by the time Jesus rebuked those who tried to discredit John’s reputation.

That’s when I got the idea to visit John in his prison cell. I knew what it was like to feel abandoned. Maybe I could find a way to console him. If not, maybe he could console me. I was on my way across the courtyard of Herod’s palace when I heard shrieking and yelling coming from the window above the porch where the guards stood. I hurried over to check it out.

The soldiers looked straight ahead, pretending not to notice the commotion, even as other passersby paused, glanced up, then scurried on as if nothing unusual were going on. I flew up to the window and peeked in to see the royal couple of Israel in a quarrel.

“Do something!” She pounded on his chest with her small fists.

“I did something.” He grabbed her wrists and pushed her aside. “I arrested him; that’s all I can do.”

“What kind of king are you that you fear a madman?” Herodias slammed an urn to the floor as she raged against her husband.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Herod shot back.

“He’s bewitched you. Don’t think I don’t know how you hung on his every word, even as he accused you of sin right there your own courtyard”—she thrust her hand out the window, almost poking me in the eye—“in front of your servants.”

“He’s a prophet. That’s what they do—point out sin. It’s expected.”

“Herod, he accused you of adultery.”

The king slumped into a nearby chair and held his head in his hands.

“What do you want me to say? That’s he’s wrong? You were my brother’s wife. No one needs John the Baptist to tell them what everybody knows.”

“Defend my honor. He called me an adulteress.”

“Aren’t you?”

Oh my, Herod. You will be sorry you said that. Look at the fire in that woman’s eyes.

“I mean to say I’m as guilty as you are.”

Not helping yourself, buddy.

“I am guilty of nothing.” Her voice was eerily calm now. “You, a powerful king, lusted after me and stole me from my husband. I was a powerless victim in your grasp.” She turned her back to him.

“Stolen? Is that how you see it?” Herod rose from his chair and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Have you forgotten how you seduced me, caused me to betray my own brother’s trust?”

“Defend my honor, or you’re no man!” She broke free from his hold and backed away.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Have him executed.”

“Are you mad? I can’t do that. John is not guilty of anything.”

Herodias gathered her silk shawl and walked toward the door.

“You will regret this day, Herod.”

As she left the king sat down again and wiped his forehead.

“I already do.”

As soon as I was sure she wasn’t coming back, I flew in the window and sat down on a footstool in front of him. I was worried about John and wanted to try to talk some sense to the king before something awful happened.

“Herod,” I tugged on his robe, “for your own sake, let John the Baptist go—right now, while you’ve got the chance. I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of your domestic situation. You don’t have an upset wife; you’ve got a woman scorned. I’ve studied women for thousands of years. It’s not when they’re screaming that you need to worry. It’s when the yelling stops and the icy coolness of scheming sets in; that’s when you go for cover. That look she had in her eyes is the same one I saw in Jael’s eyes the day she calmly drove a tent peg through Sisera’s head.”

Herod leaned back in his chair and put his big, sandaled foot right in my lap. I was pulling myself free when his servant entered the room.

“Your Majesty, your guests are beginning to arrive.”

Guests? He must be having a party. Maybe I should freshen up and stay around. I can try to talk to him later.

Since freshening up for me was out of the question, and I had no intention of watching Herod take a bath, I decided to check on John while the king primped. I found him sitting on the cot in his cell, staring at the floor. I wondered what he must be thinking about Jesus now. I felt so sad for him. I just had to try to comfort him.

“John, I want to apologize to you for the fact that Jesus hasn’t tried to get you out of here or been by to see you. You might not believe it, but He thinks the world of you. I heard Him tell people there was no one in the kingdom greater than John the Baptist.”

I paused, hoping for a response, some slight indication that he heard me. Nothing. If anything, he looked sadder.

“Now, don’t you worry about how things seem. I’ve got a feeling everything is going to work out fine, and you’ll be out of here before you know it. I wouldn’t be surprised if this turned out to be your last night here.”

I patted him on his leathery hand and made a hasty exit through the window. If he heard me, I hoped he couldn’t tell I was lying. I didn’t know how it would happen, but I knew it was going end badly for John the Baptist.

By the time I got to the party, Herod and most of his guests were intoxicated.

“King Herod,” said one of the dignitaries, “let’s get this party started. Where’s the entertainment?”

The musicians were playing their instruments as Herod called out to a red-haired young woman across the room.

“Salome, come and dance for me.”

It took only a moment to figure out Salome was Herodias’s daughter. The girl was repulsed by her drunken stepfather and took shelter under her mother’s protective arm. Herodias’s eyes shot daggers at Herod.

“Come on, girl,” he slurred. “Come and dance for your king.”

Salome shook her head, turned her face into her mother’s shoulder, and ignored him. The guests began to titter at her defiance. Herod was embarrassed and raised his voice.

“I command you to obey me!”

The king was furious. One of his friends leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“Use a sweeter bait to catch this little bird, my king. Flatter her and offer her a present.”

Herod grinned and nodded his head. He shifted his weight on the throne, knocked his wine goblet off the nearby table, and opened his arms toward the girl.

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