The Child Madonna - Chapter 35 "Last Chance"

I do not know how long I have been lying on the floor, beseeching God to rescue me. Perhaps it is a few minutes only. It seems an eternity. I am aware of Joseph’s presence only when I hear the words:

“Get up, Mariam, I want to talk with you.”

Light is flooding the little cell; the door is wide open. Then it is closed. We are together in this airless little space. I look at him. He is staring at me. I realise this is the first time he’s seen me since our journey to the Passover; the first time he’s seen my pregnancy. I wish I knew what emotions are filling him right now. Is he with me?

“Mari, you are still my betrothed. I loved you. Why have you done this to me?”

“Sir, I did not want to hurt you. I really did not understand at first what was involved in obeying the command that I was given. I believed, and still do, that I was carrying out God’s will.”

“It is hard for me to accept this, Mariam. I am of David’s lineage. If God wanted you to have a son that would fulfil the prophecies, would he not use me as the instrument?”

“When we were betrothed, I was sure that was God’s will, so I was equally surprised when the stranger told me to be ready then.”

“Mari, look at me. Tell me honestly, did the stranger have intercourse with you? Did you do it willingly, or did he force you?”

I pause, trying hard to sift my memory to be as open with Joseph as I can. I owe him that at least. But I find my memory muddled with the meaning.

“It is a very hard question. It seems so dreamlike now. I was told to obey, without understanding what I did. I accepted that God’s will was being done to me. I let the water of the river flow into me, and in that swirling flood it was difficult to distinguish exactly what was happening. Perhaps he did take me there in the water. Perhaps it was symbolic only. I did not feel defiled. It did not seem that my virginity had been violated. No-one has ever sought to examine me. Should I ask for such a test? Do you think it possible that I am still intact?”

“Mari, I do not see how that could be. In any case, the issue is not just a physical one. You are bearing a child. The fundamental question is the identity of the baby within you. Are we to believe you or do we pity that you have been misled?”

“I know what I believe. I will not renounce it.”

“Even though they condemn you to death?”

“What is the difference now in any case? I have, I’m told, long passed the time when I could expect mercy by giving up my claims and forfeiting the baby’s right to live. Not that I would, even if I could.”

“I can’t help admiring you when you’re angry! I like your spirit, girl, even when they’ve done their best to break you.”

“Can I ask something of you, Joseph?”

“If you want me to save you, I’m already trying, but I cannot perform miracles.”

“No, Joseph, I wasn’t going to ask you that. It was about mother and my brother and sisters. Uncle Eli has threatened to throw them out of their home because of what I’ve done. I feel awful about that. You have a small home in Bethlehem - if Eli carries out his threat, could you look after them? Or at least help them temporarily to see that they come to no harm? Perhaps Elizabeth and Zechariah would help too, they believe in my mission, and would have pity on my family.”

“You ask a difficult thing, Mari. It is you I love, not them. Are you thinking that I should marry your mother, or your sister Salome?”

“I hadn’t really thought it through at all. I didn’t mean marriage, I’m just afraid of their homelessness and the threats that my sisters would have to be sold for them all to survive. I can’t bear to think of that.”

“Who said that to you, Mari?”

“Uncle Eli.”

“Don’t believe that. He would never wilfully shirk his duties in such a callous manner. I’m sure he was only trying to seek your submission by frightening you and making you feel guilty. I promise you, Mariam, if it comes to that - and I don’t believe it will - I will ensure that they come to no harm.”

“Thank you, Joseph, I’m glad I asked you that.”

“You fill me with shame. In the very hour when you are in crisis, when I expected to find you collapsed in terror and self-pity, all I see is your concern for others. No-one whose attitude reflects this concern can be an adulteress and blasphemer and all the other things they say you are.”

“I was afraid you’d be angry with me too. If I know that you respect me, it will help me to be brave when the time comes. Will you be there when they stone me, Joseph? Will you stand where I can see you until the end? I shall fix my eyes on you and ignore the rest.”

“Mari, don’t say these things, I cannot bear it. How can you be so calm? If all else fails, I’ll be there. I give you my solemn promise, although I’d rather be anywhere else on earth.”

“Thank you, Joseph.”

We leave a long pause; both of us are struggling to think of what to say next.

“Joseph?”

“Yes, Mari?”

“Joseph, will you hug me and my child?”

He is awkward and confused, but tender. He lets himself soften a little and puts a tentative arm round my shoulder, then as I snuggle towards him, the other arm slips round my waist and pulls me against his robes. He can feel my belly now against his own; I move deliberately against him, I want him to make my baby his, by being part of it. As we stand there, clasped together, he whispers in my ear:

“Mari, I did not want to tell you this, in case it gives you false hope. Last night I had a dream, I’m sure it is a sign. I’ve told Joel of my belief and he is even now consulting Eli and Jethro as to its meaning.”

“Tell me, Joseph, please, what was your dream?”

I dreamt that you were bound outside the synagogue, alone, and opposite you was a mob of Baal’s priests, all screaming for your blood. Then Elijah came and called down fire. From the clear blue sky a bolt of lightning came and struck your naked flesh and all rushed forward to jeer at a cindered corpse, but you were unharmed, your flesh as pale and unblemished as a pure young maiden. Then I saw that the fire was devouring your accusers, the flames raged around you, and there in the middle you bathed your flesh in clear spring water. The droplets as they ran from your body, sprinkled with the sand, leaving a text etched upon the barren earth,
‘May he be pleased with my song
For my gladness comes from him’.
And after that, Elijah was taken in a whirlwind and disappeared from view.”

“What do you think it means, Joseph?”

“I think God’s wrath will fall on those who condemn you. They will die in torment, perhaps in the everlasting flames of Gehenna. And you will be exalted, for that which you create comes directly from God.”

“Joseph?”

“Yes, Mari?”

“Has anyone ever told you of the texts that Uncle Eli gave me in a personal scroll for my twelfth birthday?”

“No. I have no idea.”

“That text you saw in your dream was one of them - the only one of three he gave me of which, until now, I had not seen the direct relevance.”

“Is that really so? You mean, Eli himself gave you that text?”

“Yes.”

“Let me go and tell Eli and the others straight away. It cannot be coincidence.”

Dare I hope? Has God intervened? Or is there some innocent and natural
explanation? And even if there is, how will Eli and the other rabbis interpret it?

The door opens to the daylight once again. This time it is my mother.

“Come quickly, Mari! They want to talk to you before the village men assemble. Perhaps there is some hope, Joseph has told them something which has put doubt in their minds.”

I am led into the rabbis’ chambers behind the worship area. As well as the three elders, Clopas and Joseph are there, standing with my mother. Jethro calls me to him, and begins the questioning:

Do you have a scroll of personal texts?”

“Yes, my uncle gave them to me.”

“Can you quote them to us?”

I do so, without hesitation.

“Who knew of these, beside yourself?”

“Uncle Eli, my mother. Perhaps Clopas, he was present at my birthday feast when I was given them.”

“Have you ever told them to anyone else?”

“No, sir.”

“Could your mother have told Joseph?”

“She could have done, but I don’t know when or why.”

Perhaps mother has told Joseph and they have invented the dream to rescue me. I’m sure that thought has crossed their minds.

“Tell us about the stranger who, you claim, announced to you that you would bear the Messiah.”

“I saw him several times before he told me that directly, although he told me often that I had been chosen by God for something very special. He always surprised me - he seemed to come and go so suddenly. I felt mesmerised by him, he looked right into me, as though he knew my every thought and feeling. It was uncanny.”

“Did he ever say who he was? Did you ask him?”

“Yes, I asked him. He usually said he was a messenger, sometimes a messenger from God. Once he said he was the prophet come to prepare for God’s special mission.”

“Many believe that Elijah will come again before the Messiah reigns. Did he ever refer or allude to Elijah?”

“No, I don’t think so, sir.”

Eli turns to Jethro and I hear him mutter something, shaking his head. In return, I caught a snatch of Jethro’s words, “……….I find that all the more convincing. She could have lied to tie in with Joseph’s dream.” They turn back to me.

“Did the stranger ever discuss scripture with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What passages did he expound?”

“Sometimes he quoted from the psalms, or about God’s love of Israel from the ‘Song of Songs’. But usually he showed me how the prophet Isaiah had foretold Israel’s saviour, and how he would suffer the scorn and cruelty of men. He asked me if I was strong enough to bear pain.”

“I didn’t ask you that, Mariam. Just answer my questions, please.” His voice was gentle though, not angry.

“Mariam, if we were to give you one final chance to renounce your claim and promised to let you live, even let you have your baby as long as it did not happen in this village, would you do that for us?”

“Sir, you are making it very hard for me. I am frightened, I do not want to die. I do not want to hurt my family or bring shame to them. But you are asking me to deny the very experience which has sustained me through all my trials. I want to live. I want my future son to live. But I do not want it to be because I have denied God’s will, or refused his call to me. Are you asking me to make that choice?”

“No, Mariam, it was a theoretical question. If your extraordinary tale is true, then it cannot be foresworn. If however, as seems more likely in this treacherous world, it is a tissue of lies, either deliberate or naïve, born of the wickedness of the stranger, or yourself, or both of you, then you are already beyond redemption and should suffer the penalty of the law in all its severity, despite the pain this would bring through our close association with you and your family.”

“Sir, God has given me the answer to the doubts I had. He will surely enable you to discern what is right for you to do.”

“Mariam, daughter of Anna, ward of Eli, consider carefully before you answer this next question. Did you commit adultery with the stranger? Do you admit it? Did Rabbi Eli warn you before other witnesses of the consequences of such a sin?”

“I received a call to bear a child, the Messiah. I accepted and obeyed. I did what I was told to do. I bathed in the river Tabor and there the stranger visited me.”

“Did you not suspect him?”

“I trusted him because of what he told me.”

“Did he tell you anything else apart from your duty there?”

“He told me about my cousin Elizabeth’s pregnancy after so many barren years, that she would bear a son who would announce the Messiah to the world.”

“So you knew this before you were sent to Ein-Karem?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell your cousins immediately of your own condition and its cause?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And they believed you?”

“Yes, as Zechariah writes to you in his letter.”

“What letter?”

“The one that was entrusted to Clopas to give to Uncle Eli.”

This statement causes some consternation. Jethro looks to Eli and Clopas; the latter is nodding vigorously in confirmation of my words. My uncle is clearly embarrassed and has a quick word with Jethro, who ceases his questioning of me. After their consultation, Jethro tells Joel to take me back to my cell, and I am hurried out of their presence as if they do not wish me to witness their disarray.

In the solitude of my little prison I dare to hope. Jethro’s words seemed fair, he did not rant or argue. Perhaps I am raising my sights too soon, allowing the glimmer of optimism to colour my sense of judgement. I look round my tiny room and focus on the instruments of torture hanging before my eyes. If they spare my life, perhaps once more they’ll submit me to the ordeal by whip. A wave of panic and shuddering overtakes me before I steel myself with the thought that such a punishment can be born; I have done so before. I reach inside my shift and clasp my unborn child within my flesh.

“My son, let us be brave. Let us trust God to bring us through these next few hours, claim his protection once more, as he has sheltered us already. Let us be strong and suffer his will if need be. I doubt this will be the last time either of us is tested.”

I do not find it strange to talk thus to my baby - indeed, it seems the most natural thing in the world. Then, even as I kneel there in stillness and silence, I think I feel a movement. I hold my breath, perhaps I am mistaken; then I am sure. Another tiny quiver in my womb, a strange tickling feeling that fills me with unspeakable joy! The whole room explodes with light! I rock myself, I sing, I praise my God. How could one tiny flutter swing my mood so violently?

My door is being unlatched once again. I look up in anticipation; it is my mother. I fling myself into her arms, in great excitement.

“Mum, I have felt the baby moving, he’s alive, I can’t express the joy I feel. Please tell me this is a sign of hope! They can’t kill us now, surely….?”

I look up into my mother’s eyes and behind their tears, I see she is smiling. One hand is ruffling my hair, then she is kissing me on my brow and on my cheeks.

“Oh, Mari, Mari, you are saved!”

At first I do not comprehend the meaning of her words. I am still thinking of my new experience, even as I feel the child lurch once more within my womb.

“Did you hear me, Mari, you’re free; you’re safe. They will not seek your trial or condemnation.”

“How? You mean, they believe me?” Her words are beginning to sink in.

“They do not disbelieve you any longer. Joseph refuses to divorce you. Clopas gave you support as well, told them of Elizabeth and Zechariah and all that he had seen. When Eli realised that his fellow rabbis were loath to condemn you, he switched his tack completely. He had feared criticism from his colleagues, felt that his reputation as an incorruptible judge was on the line and would not grant you any favours.”

“And they are going to let me go? Without any further punishment? Will they let me keep my baby?”

A big hug and another kiss.

“Yes, my love. You are not a sinner and lawbreaker any longer. You are the Lord’s Chosen One!”