The Madonna and the Political Prisoner, Chapter 4/2

The children are all looking at me. I’m lucky to have such a close family. But the first of my children has just left us. James is still here with Deborah, but Salome’s move to her parents-in-law’s home is our first change since my husband died. It seems a moment of importance, to be conscious of the change that is taking place. And another thought comes to my mind. Joshua will be twenty soon. He’s a young man, soon he will be revealing his calling, I’m sure he will.

I ought to say something to the other children. I’ve never said anything until now, because I didn’t want them to treat him any differently. But I’m sure he knows that his life will soon be changed dramatically and I wonder how the others will respond. Will it be too much of a shock? Will they blame me for not telling them what is going to happen? Will they believe it or think I’m mad, or that Joshua is as well? Should I tell them now? Should I ask Joshua’s permission? Perhaps he will not want to be revealed. I’m torn in two minds, but should I leave it to him to break the news in his time, or should I say something now to get them prepared for the fact that their brother is the Messiah they hear foretold each Sabbath in the synagogue? I ponder this all day and at nightfall I’m no nearer coming to a decision on what I should do. Perhaps I’ll just warn Joshua that I must say something.

The opportunity comes the next day. James and Joe are busy in the workshop. Ruth and Deborah have gone to fetch water. Simon and Judas are with Clopas’s sons working in the fields. And Joshua has just come home from Sepphoris, earlier than I expected. I intercept him before he walks through to the workshop.

“Joshua, I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, Mother, what is it?”

“It’s about your special mission, son, you know what I’m talking about?”

Joshua is silent for a while. I’m waiting, wondering again if I should have brought the subject up. Should I have waited until he takes the initiative?

“Yes. What do you want to know about it?”

“I’m not going to press you any more, but I need some guidance from you. When are you going to reveal yourself? Do I need to do any more to help you? Do we need to find you a wife first? How much longer do you need to study in Sepphoris? Do you need to go to Tiberias or Jerusalem to study? Do you…”

“Steady on, Mother! That’s a lot of questions.”

“I’m sorry, Joshua, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s alright, Mother. But let me try to answer as best I can. You know what I’ve been called to do. You’ve always known it, haven’t you?”

“Yes, of course, Joshua, you know that.”

“But you must realise what a momentous thing it is. Do you think I’m ready yet?”

“I don’t know, son. Only you can judge that. What more do you think you have to do? You’ve been studying our scriptures for many years now. Joel says your knowledge already outstrips his. I know your studies in Sepphoris have been interrupted, but do you need to learn any more? The rabbis in Jerusalem were pretty impressed with you many years ago.”

“It’s not just about knowledge and learning. I have to think about many other things. I have to be sure of what God is expecting of me. Some of the things I may be required to do and say may cause controversy. I have to think things through. Be aware of the implications. Be sure I can cope with the consequences. Do you understand that?”

“I’m sure you’re right on that. But it’s not necessarily a matter of age or maturity, Joshua. God will lead you to do what’s right and protect you if you trust him. I know that, I was much younger than you when I was called to break all our traditions and rules and face opposition from so many people.”

“Mother, you’ve often hinted at the problems you had. Tell me. What did they do to you? What was the worst you had to face?”

I hesitate. It’s true. I’ve never been explicit. Should I tell him everything?

“They had me whipped, son. Whipped in the synagogue, the full thirty nine lashes. They wanted me to have you aborted. When I refused they threatened to have me stoned. No, wait,” I say, holding up my hand to stop him interrupting, “the worst thing was the grief I was causing my mother and my sisters. I don’t think your Uncle Ben was old enough to understand. But your aunts knew. You ought to talk to Grandmother. Has she never said anything to you about this?”

“No”.

“Then ask her sometime. She knows you’re special. She knows my secret and yours. She is wise and can advise you. I know she doesn’t have the knowledge, she was never taught to read or write like I was, but she has much experience of life. She has much to offer you, Joshua. But she won’t say anything unless you ask her. She’s been watching you closely. She often talks to me about you, wondering when you will be revealed and what it will mean for all of us.”

“How old were you when these things happened to you?”

“I was just thirteen, Joshua. Perhaps I was too young to have thought through all the consequences of what I did… or rather, what I allowed to happen. If I’d been older, perhaps I would have been more careful, more cautious, perhaps I’d have thought more about the likely threats and punishments. I was naïve, foolhardy.”

“No, Mother. You were very trusting. You heard God calling you and you just trusted him. I need to be able to follow that example. But I am older, I know the probable consequences of what I might have to do. Therefore I now need to be sure of how I’ll manage. You suffered and you were strong enough to hold fast. I always knew you’d had to be strong, but I didn’t know that it was that bad. How did you cope? Surely the pain was too much for you to bear?”

“I bore it, son, because I had to. I had no option other than to deny God’s call to me and renounce you, let them tear you from me. And I couldn’t do that. I had the support of my mother and my sisters, then later I had your father too. But what I did was considered scandalous. When you are seen to be the Messiah, then people will flock to you. You may find opposition from the authorities, but the people will protect you, they’ll not hurt you like they tried to hurt me.”

“I’m not sure, Mother. I’m not so sure that what I have to do or say will be so easily accepted. I may have to face what you endured.”

“Surely not!”

“That’s why I need more time. I’m not ready yet. I need to prepare more thoroughly. I need thinking time. I need to spend time with my cousin John, because he’s been called by God too. I need to understand his role and mine.

“Then why not go to stay for a time with John and Cousin Elizabeth - I’m sure they’d be delighted to have you. James and Joe are quite capable of running the carpentry business. The twins are already helping in the fields and Clopas has promised them some land of their own to cultivate. Go while Ruth is still with me to help around the house and assist me in looking after my mother. But do have a good talk with your grandmother. I’m sure she will give you much wise counsel.”

“I think that’s good advice. And I think spending some time in Ein-Karem and Jerusalem with John is an excellent idea and one I should pursue. I’m ready to move on in my studies. I need to ask more questions of the teachers and philosophers in Jerusalem. The rabbis in Sepphoris are learned but they get bogged down with the minutiae in the texts and are unwilling to speculate or challenge orthodox interpretations. John and I can go together and listen to some of the most experienced teachers in the Temple. We will hear them disputing and arguing. They are more likely to be open to challenge and encourage new insights.”

“If that’s the way forward, I need to ask you another question. If you’re going to be a rabbi, you’ll need a wife. Should we not find you one before you take that next step? Or should we wait until you return from John?”

“I’m not sure I need a wife, Mother. The way ahead may be hard. It may call for me to be on the move, never staying in one place. It may not be fair to commit a young woman to such a life. I’ll need to be sure of God’s priorities and not have to be restrained by my commitment to another human being. Let’s wait and see. Perhaps when I’ve spent time with John and his mother and spent time in Jerusalem, I’ll be sure. Leave it until I return.”

“So you will go to John and Elizabeth then?”

“I’ll join the group going up to the next Passover, and seek to stay on afterwards with my cousins. I can check out then whether that is acceptable to them. It’s only another couple of months away. In that time I’ll make sure that James is introduced to our suppliers in Sepphoris and is competent to keep the accounts and knows how to bargain to avoid being overcharged.”

“Then there’s one other thing I need to raise. We must tell your brothers and sisters.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t mean just about you going to Jerusalem. I mean about your calling. The fact that you will be our Messiah.”

“I’m not sure about that yet, Mother. It may be many years before my full calling can be revealed.”

“But we need to share the good news with them, Joshua. They need to know you are special, that you and I have together had a special role to fulfil from God. Imagine how they will feel when you declare yourself and they will say we lived with him for nearly twenty years and never knew.”

“Is it not better that they treat me like an ordinary brother? If we make out that I have a special task, set by God, will that not cause friction, make them jealous?”

“Nonsense, son. They should be delighted, privileged that our family should be so chosen.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I can’t stop you saying anything after I’ve gone. But is it wise now?”

“I think they should know. You need to share with them your thoughts, your plans. Perhaps they will help you, support you. You can test your ideas with them, as well as with me and my mother. We’re a family, Joshua. We should have no secrets from each other.”

“Well, this has been a secret that we’ve kept from them for many years. Did my father know everything?”

“Yes, Joshua, he did. You’ve always known he wasn’t your natural father. He only accepted that because he knew of your exceptional source and calling. He was proud to have been chosen to care for you in your formative years.”

At that moment Ruth and Deborah burst in with two large water jars and our spell is broken.

“We’ll talk some more,” I say, and Joshua greets his sister and sister-in-law and goes to find James and Joe in the workshop.

“What was all that about?” Ruth is curious. We’ll have to tell them, I’m sure of it.