The Madonna and the Political Prisoner, Chapter 12

Chapter 12 AD 23

It’s the Sabbath and I’m sitting in the Women’s Court of our synagogue with Deborah, Esther, Miriam, Salome and her two daughters, and Benjamin’s wife, Rachel, and daughter, Anna. There are at least another hundred women and girls waiting patiently and the same number of men and boys inside the main part of the synagogue. We’re waiting expectantly because Joshua told me that Joel has asked him to expound the scriptures to us today. He knows Joshua has studied with the best scholars in Sepphoris and Jerusalem and he has persuaded the other rabbis to let Joshua take a leading role. Old Jethro doesn’t take an active part these days, his voice is feeble and few can hear what he has to say. Certainly out here in the Women’s Court, we can hear nothing on the few occasions they let him participate. I suspect Jonas was less pleased at Joel’s decision, but he has to defer to Joel as he is by far the most senior of the rabbis here who still have their full faculties.

We chant through two of the psalms composed by our illustrious King David and listen while Jonas reads from the Law, then Joel picks up one of the scrolls from the altar and beckons Joshua to come forward and take the seat reserved for the rabbi or scribe chosen to interpret the scripture reading.

He stands and reads from the prophet Isaiah. His voice is firm and clear. We can hear every word. He reads slowly and with authority. He does not rush or mumble as some of those invited to speak do.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has chosen me to bring good
news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind;
To set free the oppressed
and announce that the time has come
when the Lord will save his people.”

We all hold our breath. This is one of the most prophetic sayings about the coming of our longed-for Messiah. Did Joshua choose this or did Joel select the reading and ask Joshua to interpret it? Joshua has handed back the scroll to Rabbi Joel and sits down again on the chair in front of the altar. Everyone is staring at him. I will him to speak, to say things that will bring him favour from those around me. I’m so nervous, it is worse than if I was asked to speak, not that that is ever a possibility. It feels like the time I had to defend myself before Eli and Jethro so many years ago, accused of blasphemy and adultery.

Then he speaks.

“This scripture is coming true at this very moment, even as you hear me reading it. The Lord’s spirit is here in this synagogue, in this village, in Galilee, in Judea. His spirit is in me as I speak to you inspiring all I shall say. It is in you too as you hear my words and they are working on your heart. This passage of scripture has been read so many times that the listeners hear it no more, yet I tell you, this scripture lives and its truth is being revealed to you now. I say again, now. At this very moment!

It is good news for the poor. It is therefore good news for most of you. The Lord of all cares for you. The rich, the learned, they do not think you are important. But you are the most important in God’s kingdom. He will put you first. He knows your needs, your travail. He sees when you are ignored, when you are cheated, when you are patronised by those who hold themselves to be of influence. God will use uneducated men – yes, and women too whom you think as of little account. They will understand his kingdom. Children will be of consequence. The Lord God values the trust offered by girls and boys, just as you value and love your own children. So you may not have much of this world’s goods, but if you have the friendship and respect of your neighbours, the love and care of your mother, brother, cousin, the peace of a clear conscience, then you are not poor for these things are the riches of God’s kingdom.

Isaiah proclaims liberty for the captives. I tell you this. In the kingdom of God there are no captives. You are free to come and be a citizen, no-one forces you, you are free to love your king and to love your fellow citizens and be loved yourself. You will be free from the consequences of evil, free from the shackles of your own guilty thoughts and consciences for in God’s kingdom brother forgives his brother, fathers forgive their children, children forgive their parents and God forgives all who are sorry for their wrong-doing and determine on a new direction of right living and respect and care for others. You can enter this kingdom now. If you have a quarrel with your brother or your neighbour, go from this building and make it right with him. Then your are already entering God’s kingdom.”

I couldn’t help but think that this remark is directed at his own brother and I wonder what James is thinking. Is he applying it to himself or is he offended by Joshua’s words, seeing them as a rebuke? But I cannot ponder further because Joshua, after taking a draught of water from the vessel beside him, continues to speak to the people of Nazareth who are spellbound by his words.

“The blind are being given their sight back. Yes, this is literally true. In Capernaum last week two blind beggars could see again. Their wonder and joy was a marvel to behold. They ran around waving their arms thinking people were trees and trees were people. Their joy was infectious, children screamed with laughter and God rejoiced. But you are blind when you fail to understand the scriptures, when you do not see how God’s Law applies to you. And now we are seeing life in God’s word, we see that it applies to us, we see that it gives us guidance which if we follow it, opens our eyes to truth and brings fulfilment to our lives. I’ve seen my cousin John opening the eyes of many beside the river Jordan as they see their lives for what they are and turn again, vowing to renounce their evil ways and start afresh. I can help you open your eyes. Love the Lord God. Love his word. Love your family. Love your neighbour. Love your enemy. Open your eyes and see that you are loved too. That is the kingdom of God. It is in your heart, in your very being.

So you feel oppressed, the weight of your cares bears down on you, life is a drudgery, you are afflicted by illness or those who would exploit you, unfair masters, uncaring pedagogues, those with spiteful tongues? But you can be released. The Lord God will save you from such oppression if you will but listen to his word to you. He loves you. He cares for you like a father. If he cares for you so much, what matter the petty conduct and meanness of those who would demean you. Feel loved by God, know he values you and that oppression will slip from your shoulders. You will be free in your heart. His message will save you from your despair.

And, my fellow citizens of Nazareth, I repeat, this opportunity is with you now. I am offering you a new way of thinking. The kingdom of God can be in your hearts here in this village and if it is, your relationships with each other will be transformed. Care for each other. Be there for the poor. Open the eyes of the blind. Let the oppressed be free. The spirit of God can be within you. Let this spirit take over your lives and the kingdom of God will be yours. Now! At this very moment! Isaiah has spoken to you through my words. Engrave them on your own hearts.”

He has stopped speaking and looks expectantly at the congregation. It is the time when the men can ask questions. There is a buzz of conversation, out here among the women as well as from the men.

Then questions are hurled at him, many before he can attempt any answer.

“Who are you?”

“Aren’t you Joshua, son of Joseph the carpenter?”

“Haven’t you lived here in this village nearly all your life?”

“How do you know so much?”

“Aren’t your brothers in this room? And your sisters outside? What do they think of all this?”

Around me, many of the women are expressing their astonishment at Joshua’s words.

“Where did he learn such things?”

“Well, I must say, that was much more interesting than we usually hear.”

“I’m not surprised that crowds go to listen to him if he always speaks like that.”

“Do you think he could make blind men see here? Really, I mean?”

Above the hubbub of remarks around me, nearly all expressing astonishment at his knowledge and eloquence, which makes me feel proud, I try to listen to the questions still being shouted out by the men. At last they give him a chance to answer. The last question I heard was ‘People say you can work miracles of healing. Can you do that here in Nazareth? Can you show us what you do so we can believe your words?’

And that’s when it begins to go wrong. Joshua holds up one arm to silence the hubbub and pauses until they are all looking at him.

“You all know the proverb, ‘Doctor, heal yourself’. I find I can heal many adults and children of their diseases everywhere except here. It is very difficult to be a prophet in your own village. Why? Because you all know me. You’ve known me since I was a boy and you find it difficult to believe that I can help you in this way. You just want to test me. But my power comes from God and you can’t put God to the test like that.”

I hear a few sharp drawings-in of breath at this, as a few of the congregation think he’s claiming to be God, blasphemy to them.

“In order to be healed, you need to believe. And if I’m so familiar to you, you find it hard to believe.”

Someone shouts out, “Have you tried?”

“Yes, he has and he’s failed. He tried to cure my grandmother, Anna, from her arthritis and he couldn’t do it.”

I recognise James’s voice and I’m embarrassed. Why won’t he keep quiet? There’s no need to publicise our failings – and I’m sure it’s our own lack of faith. Joshua said so himself.

“My brother is correct. He does not believe that I have the power to heal. It is hard for him, for he’s lived nearly thirty years alongside me and when you’re that close you can be blind to certain things. It is difficult though. Our history is full of examples where God could not act through prophets in their own country. Elijah went to a widow living in Zarapheth in Sidon even though there were many widows in Israel at the time of the great drought, because only she, a stranger, had sufficient trust to feed him and thus benefited from the miracle he wrought to sustain her until the rains came. And Elisha could have healed many of their diseases, but who asked for help? Why, it was the foreign general, Naaman, who had leprosy. There must have been many in Israel who had the same dreaded skin disease, yet must we believe that only he had sufficient faith to ask? And even then, it came about only through the faith of a small girl child. Look at you – all you men of irreproachable morals, so you think – sitting there in the forefront of this synagogue, Pharisees, Scribes, Israelites all, praying weekly for a deliverer, the Messiah, yet full of scepticism, wanting to test the spirit of the Lord before you’ll trust. And outside in the courtyard are women and children, foreigners. Some of them believe. You need to be trusting like children… Only then will I be able to do the work with you that I have performed elsewhere.”

He doesn’t get any further. There is a roar of disapproval. Rabbi Joel grabs back the scrolls from Joshua’s hands before they are damaged for already men from the front row have plunged forward and are trying to grab Joshua. Now everyone is standing up and shouting. Then there is total chaos, Joshua disappears under a melee of men that is surging towards our courtyard. Some of the women have stood up in alarm, others are joining their menfolk in protest at what Joshua’s been saying. Before I have got my wits together, I see Joshua being manhandled in the midst of an angry mob. The noise of protest and anger is joined by the screams of frightened children and I find myself knocked out of the way as I try to get up and move towards my son.

I see James on the edge of the crowd and shout, “James, can you reach him? Help him, please!”

But all James does is shout back, “I told you he’d get himself in trouble. I’m washing my hands of him. Just get off home and lock the door before the crowd turn on us.”

Esther and the other girls are crying. “Miriam,” I shout above the pandemonium, “can you get the children home before they’re trampled in the mob. I’m going to see if I can help Joshua.”

“Don’t be stupid, Mari,” she shouts. There’s nothing you can do. You’ll get hurt yourself. But I’ll get the girls out of here anyway. But stay away from the mob.”

Deborah has put a restraining arm on me, but Salome gathers us up and we follow the crowd of men who are now rushing towards the edge of the town. Joshua is nowhere to be seen – he must be buried somewhere in the middle of the angry men. One or two boys and older men have dropped out of the mass of men which is still driving its way up the track to the edge of the village and I realise with horror what this angry mob is going to do. For the road leads out of the village along the ledge of the quarry before dropping into the valley. They’re so incensed, they’re going to push him right over the cliff, they’re lynching him. I panic and try to redouble my steps, but Deborah and Salome hold me tight.

“Stay back, mother,” pleads Salome, “there’s nothing you can do.”

“Pray hard, girl,” is all I can think of saying. The men are chasing ahead as fast as ever and we can’t keep up with them. The main core of the mob is almost out of sight ahead of us now, only the stragglers are with us. They are not turning back, though. They are continuing because they are curious, they want to see what is happening. We eventually catch up with the men. I’m breathless and distraught and fear what I may find, for the group has stopped at the edge of the quarry where it drops sheer, some fifty feet or so, onto the rubble and debris of the stones that have fallen from the area most recently quarried. I can’t get to the edge to look over because too many men are milling around. Then I realise that they are not peering into the quarry depths as I’d feared but seem to be wandering around aimlessly, their anger turning to frustration as in all the headlong rush they seem to have mislaid the object of their retribution.

“Where is he?” I hear the shout go up. “Who’s got him?” Then everyone is repeating that refrain. They can’t believe it – and nor can I.

“What have you done with him?” Someone rounds on me. Someone else sees me and spits in my face. “Whore that spawned this monster!” Salome pulls me away and puts herself between the accusers and me. We go and stand under a tree beside the roadway and wait as the crowd of men gradually breaks up and begins to disperse. When, eventually, they’ve all gone, we go nervously and peer over the quarry edge. Nothing. It’s deserted. The grey stones shimmer in the heat of the day, shining, almost blinding me as I stare. I breathe a sigh of relief. Where has my son gone? How did he escape?

We make our way back home and find a group of men outside the courtyard of our home. When they see me, Salome and Deborah, someone shouts, “Open up and bring the blasphemer out. Don’t hide him.” Someone throws a stone which thumps against the wall of my house. James emerges, and shouts back, “Go away – he’s not here. I have no idea where he is.”

“Let us see for ourselves, he must be here somewhere.”

James gesticulates to a couple of the men. “Andrew, Ishmael, come and look for yourselves and then tell everyone else. He’s not here, I assure you.”

The two men stumble into our home and brush past James and into the area where Anna is asleep. Then they peer into the workshop. They shrug their shoulders and go back outside.

“He’s not there. I don’t know where the bastard’s gone. Is he hiding in Clopas’s house?” And the group make their way there.

“Is he?” I ask James nervously.

“Not that I know of,” answers James. “I haven’t a clue how he got away. One moment he was in the thick of the mob, and the next, he’d disappeared. I don’t know how he did it, but he was very lucky. They’d have killed him. I told you he’d be a danger to us all and I was right. Wherever he is, I just hope he stays away from us now.”

I kept expecting Joshua to turn up over the next few days. I assumed he’d hidden in the fields or in one of the olive groves and would reappear when it was dark to get some food before making his farewell. But he never came. Weeks went past and we heard nothing of him. Then someone travelling through the village said he was preaching, and healing crowds of thousands around Capernaum again.

I look at James hopefully.

“No,” says James. “Not this time. I’m not going.”