The Madonna and the political Prisoner, Chapter 11/1

Chapter 11: AD 23

Joshua is on his way home. James went to Sepphoris yesterday with Reuben, Cousin Susannah’s eldest son, who has also joined us to learn the accounts and supply side from Ben and James, to get fresh timber and discuss a new contract for the provision of doors and other household requirements for a new batch of houses being built on land that was cleared during the Roman sacking of the city several years ago. There they met a couple of merchants who’d been in Jerusalem and had travelled back via the Samaritan highway and they were full of rumours and even what they’d seen at first hand. They told Ben and my brother came back with James to share the news.

“Mari, good news,” exclaimed Benjamin as he greeted me. “James and Reuben met men who’ve seen Joshua and told us that he was making his way back to Galilee. Apparently he’s drawing crowds as he’s stopping in the villages and towns on the way and is being invited into synagogues to preach from the scriptures. He’s even talking to crowds in the open air in Samaria.”

“When will he be home?” That was my first reaction. I’m so looking forward to seeing my son again and hearing at first hand what he’s been doing. I want to hear it from his own lips – not the garbled negative version I hear from James.

“The men we met saw him in Shechem. They were on the edge of a crowd listening to him. They didn’t catch everything he said, although they reckoned that his message was not unlike that of John. We talked to them for some time. They said that all Jerusalem knew about John and the way he was baptising men in the Jordan about twenty miles from the city, but they hadn’t been out to hear him themselves as they had too much business to attend to. If Joshua comes straight to us from Shechem he could be with us tomorrow or the day after. But if he stops at every village, every synagogue on the way, it could be a week or more.”

“See, Mother, he’s not even hurrying now he’s coming home. You’d think he would come straight to us and not delay. And why on earth he’s bothering to preach in Samaria beats me. That heathen crowd will never take any notice. He’s wasting his breath. He’ll be lucky not to get stoned and chased out of their villages.”

“If he’s started to announce that he’s the promised Messiah, that news is for the whole country – it makes sense for him to stop and tell everyone on his way home. He won’t have to go back and retrace his footsteps.”

Benjamin stops me there. “I don’t think he’s preaching about being the Messiah. If he was doing that, I’m sure the merchants they met would have mentioned it.”

James added quickly, “If he’s been shouting he’s the Messiah, he’ll never reach here. He’ll get himself arrested before he’s cleared Sepphoris if not before.”

They hadn’t really any more information to impart. We’ll just have to be patient. It’s been two days since that conversation, and we’ve heard nothing more.

* * * * * * * * * *

It’s now over a week since Benjamin and James told me that Joshua was on his way to us. Two Sabbaths have gone by and there’s been no sign of him. I’ve questioned others who’ve been in Sepphoris but none of them had heard anything more. Then this morning someone mentioned in the market that there was a new preacher causing quite a stir in Magdala. That can’t be Joshua surely, I thought. Magdala’s north of here. He could have gone directly through Sepphoris though our village is so close, surely he’d have stopped by to see us and stayed for a few days. But it seems a big coincidence that there’s another preacher in the area. Every day now I go into the market even if I have no need to buy anything. I ask everyone I meet if they’ve heard anything. I ask Salome and her husband for everyone frequents their bakery, I ask Judas and Simon to listen to the gossip in the fields, but no further news arrives, not even any rumour.

This evening I can’t stand it any longer. Judas and Simon drop in after their toil in the fields and James and Joseph join us for a quick chat before returning to their families.

“Boys,” I say, “are any of you able to go to Magdala and find out if this preacher is Joshua? James, surely you’re on top of things in the workshop? And you two,” I say, turning to the twins, “how busy are you in the fields? It’s not harvest yet. Surely you’re not too busy to take a day or two away from your labours?”

Judas and Simon look at each other. Both start to speak at once, then Judas holds back and Simon replies.

“I’ll go if you like. As you say, harvest is still a few weeks off. It’s mainly weeding and watering now and one of us can manage that. What do you say, brother? Do you want to go or are you happy to stay here while I do what Mother’s asking?”

“You go if you like. I’ll look after things here.”

“I’ll come too.” James is emphatic. I thought he might be reluctant, not want to leave the workshop, but I think he is curious and wants to put his own slant on things if they find the preacher to be Joshua. “It’ll only take us a couple of days. And if it is him, I’ll drag him back here and find out why he’s not had the courtesy of coming via us and telling us what he’s up to.”

* * * * * *

And so they went. ‘Two days’, they said. It’s been over a week and they’re still not back. They must have found Joshua. If the preacher in Magdala had been someone different, they’d have been home straight away. There’s no problem here. Joe seems happier than usual, I hear him singing as he works. I suppose he’s not got James breathing down his neck all the time and the other young men with him are managing perfectly well without James bossing them around. I’m about to take a short rest before preparing the evening meal, when I hear Mother stir. I’ll go to her in a minute, but she calls out before I’m ready.

“Mari, Mari, can you come and help me?”

I hurry through to where she is lying. She is straining to get up, but her face is red, she is gritting her teeth.

“What’s the matter? Can I get you anything?”

“I can’t get up. You’ll have to help me. It’s silly, I know, but I’m locked in this position.”

I hasten to her and reach out. She grasps my hand and I pull, but she is too weak and I have to put my arm around her whole body and draw her up. Her face contorts in pain. I think back to the Mother I knew when I was a girl and I feel my eyes watering. She’s not sixty yet, but it’s an old woman whose thin body is now reliant on mine to raise her to her feet.

“Careful, Mother. Give me your arm. Come and sit over here.” I think of calling Esther to come and give a hand and talk to her great grandmother, but the courtyard seems silent, and I guess she must have gone out with her mother to the market or the well. Anyway, I can keep my mother company as I boil water and peel onions ready to add to the stew I’ve half prepared already.

“I’m sorry, Mari, to trouble you like this. You’ve enough to do without having to see to me all the time. I’ve outlived my usefulness. I’ve prayed to Jehovah to let me go.”

“Don’t say things like that, Mother. My children are grown up, they don’t need me. You’re my first priority now.”

“But you haven’t stopped worrying about them. Even the oldest. I know you’re on tenterhooks waiting for James and Simon to come back with news. You think he’s finally revealing himself, don’t you, and you don’t know whether to be pleased or frightened for him.”

“Of course I’m pleased. At last all the promises we had, all the signs, finally he’s acting.”

“Have you no doubts, Mari? Haven’t you sometimes wondered if you’d got it wrong?”

“Of course not. Well, I’ve not doubted that he would fulfil his foretold destiny in the end. Admittedly sometimes I’ve wondered how what has happened has fitted into God’s plan for him. I know I should have not worried so, and relaxed and trusted more. And now at last they say he’s revealing himself. Why shouldn’t I be pleased? You’ve supported me all these years, surely you believe in him, don’t you?”

“I suppose so, Mari. I know you believe. I can’t comprehend – I never could – exactly what happened to you and I had to do what I thought was best for you at the time. But I don’t like the way you and James argue all the time. You don’t think I hear, you think I’m asleep, but I know. It’s not good for a mother and son to be so at odds. Can’t you get Joshua to seek a reconciliation with his brother? Can’t you take James’s side sometimes and at least see his point of view?”

“Do you really think that would help? Can’t you get James to be less critical and accept what Joshua is trying to do. He might listen to you. He knows I defend Joshua always so he doesn’t take any notice of what I say.”

“I’m too tired, Mari. Why would he listen to an old woman like me? You’re more likely to persuade him. At least you’re certain of where you stand, or you say you are. I don’t know anyway. When I listen to Joshua, I believe him. Then I hear James’s arguments and they seem reasonable. I don’t know what to think any more. It’s too much to think about and makes my head ache.”

I’m disappointed. I always thought my mother a staunch supporter of both me and Joshua and everything that happened. Has she just ceased thinking properly as she’s wracked with so much pain or has she always doubted and convinced herself never to inquire too deeply in case she learned what she did not want to hear? Then I catch voices in the courtyard. I’m sure that’s James calling out to Deborah. I peer out of the door. I see James’s back disappearing into his home, but Simon is there and he turns as he hears our door hinges creak. He waves and comes over.

“Did you find him, Simon? Is Joshua well?”

“Yes, Mother. But we had to go all the way up to Capernaum right to the far end of Lake Genneseret before we found him. He had been in Magdala, but he’d left there several days before we arrived so we asked around and everyone said he’d gone further north, so we followed. He’s established himself there. He seems to have found some followers among the fisherfolk and is staying for a while. But he said he’d be back to visit us soon.”

“Did he say when?”

“No, but soon, I think. He told us he has further things to do there, but he’d be back. It’s extraordinary, really. Everywhere he goes crowds follow. We heard him speak and watched him. People are saying that he’s a healer and some men and women assured us that they’d been ill or crippled and he’d cured them, but we didn’t see anything ourselves. We were able to talk to some of the friends he seems to have made in the town there and they were very impressed with him. He’s certainly very popular there. Although he said he’d come home, I don’t think the locals want him to leave.”

“Are you going home now or do you want to eat with us and tell us more?”

“It’s too long a story. I want to get home to my family. I’ll come and see you tomorrow. James said we’d both see you in the morning and tell you everything we’ve found out.”

So I have to be patient and wait. At least Simon says he’s well and is coming home. But why didn’t he call on us before going all that way?

* * * * *

“Yes, we found him. Hidden away in a fisherman’s cottage near the shore, cringing from the crowds.”

“That’s not true, James. He was resting. They said he’d spent the whole of the previous day talking first to a crowd in the Capernaum synagogue, then later in the open air, because there were just too many people who wanted to meet him to get into the synagogue. No wonder he was exhausted.”

We’re all sitting round in a circle in my house. My mother is reclining in the corner. As well as Simon and James who’ve come to tell us where and how they found Joshua, Joe, Nathan, Isaac, Matthew and Reuben have left their labours and are sitting cross-legged with me in a circle, sipping beer and chewing on some dates.

“The man mystifies me. Instead of coming home to us, he’s deliberately ignored us and preferred the company of some uneducated fishermen. What’s the point of all the education he’s supposed to have been picking up while he’s been in Sepphoris and Jerusalem, leaving all the hard work to us?”

“Did he say whether he was coming home to see us?”

“Yes, he said he’d be with us soon.”

“But he didn’t say when. Typical! We’ll be lucky to see him for a few weeks yet. We’re very low on his priorities.”

“But he said he went there because he was sent for. Someone from Capernaum met him down in Sychar or Shechem and invited him there. Said they implored him to go there first.”

“Well, couldn’t he have dropped off here and told us where he was going? What was the hurry?”

I must admit I feel a little hurt. I try to defend Joshua against the cynicism and bitterness of his brother, but Joshua doesn’t make it easy for me. I don’t understand why he could not have come here first. I sometimes think he sees the need of everyone else except that of his own family.

“Is he alright? Is he being looked after if he is so exhausted?”

“Yes,” says James, “they’re making a fuss of him. One of the fishermen has invited him into his own home, primitive though it is, and the women in the house are swarming around him, ministering to his every need. No wonder he doesn’t want to come home.”

“You say he’s been preaching there.” Judas has put his jug down and looks at his twin brother. “What’s he saying? If he’s drawing large crowds, he must be saying something of interest. Did you listen to him?”

“He gets the crowd very excited. He says God’s kingdom is on the point of being founded. I think some of those who hear him interpret it as a rebel movement to oust the Romans.”

“Yes, Simon, that’s just the problem. I haven’t a clue what he means by this so-called kingdom, but it’s dangerous talk. I’ve told you before, it’ll cause nothing but trouble for him and all of us.”

“How does he hold the attention of the crowds for so long?” I ask. “If he spends all the afternoon in the open air as you said, he must have a lot to say that creates this interest.”

“Oh, he stops from time to time and individuals come and talk to him. And people bring their kids, I don’t know why he bothers with them. Sometimes there are great long queues of children who aren’t even in the synagogue schools yet, girls even, and he wastes his time talking to them when he could be resting or doing something more important. He seems to attract some of the poorest and least educated people. He promises them freedom and riches – I think he’s speaking figuratively, but I’m sure some of them take him literally. He’s raising expectations and he won’t be able to fulfil them. It’s dangerous twaddle.”

“But has he said that he’s the Messiah?”

“Not in so many words. But he keeps quoting words from Isaiah’s prophecies and the crowds assume he’s talking about himself. If they ask him directly, he doesn’t answer them properly, but just tells them to watch what he does and judge for themselves.”

“And he’s recruited a group of friends round himself, just like some of the best known rabbis in Jerusalem do, he calls them disciples...”

“And that’s another thing,” butts in James. “You’d think he’d choose educated men like the rabbis. People who know our scriptures. Damn it all, he’s been mixing with such men in Jerusalem and Sepphoris. He could have found learned students in Magdala or Tiberias. And he has to go and pick a bunch of fishermen – he didn’t even pick the owner of the boats. They’re a rabble. I doubt if he can have a sensible conversation with any of them. They won’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, James. Didn’t you listen properly to him? He’s very simple, direct. He tells stories. He doesn’t use the language the rabbis and scribes use. When he quotes scripture he always repeats it in the common language. That’s why I think he draws the crowds. They’re used to being bored stiff on the Sabbath. He even encourages questions and gives people a straight answer, even if it wasn’t the one they wanted or expected. And he heals people from their afflictions – they say he’s better than any doctor.”

“You’ve said it. ‘They say.’ Did you see any healings? I didn’t. I just saw a huddle round him and then the word went round that they’d been cured of all sorts of diseases, lameness, blindness – I ask you! I bet he gets them to say that to drum up interest. How do we know they were really afflicted beforehand? We’ve only got his word for it.”

“James, are you accusing your brother of being a monstrous fake, a charlatan? That’s too much. Joshua’s a good man, he’s always been kind and truthful. Take back what you said, please.”

“Alright Mother,” he says grudgingly, “I don’t say he’s deliberately deceiving the crowds. But he’s exaggerating and letting those round him, in their excitement, get carried away and claim all sorts of preposterous things to get the limelight and the crowd’s attention. Some of these people have been ignored or neglected for years. Who blames them for seeking a bit of glory by appearing to be blest by this new miracle man?”

“What do you think, Uncle Simon?” says Matthew quietly. “Do you think he’s a fake or are the healings real?”

“I don’t know, young man. I know we’ve not always agreed with your Uncle Joshua but I’ve never found him untruthful.”

“I didn’t say he was lying, did I? I said he’s getting it into his head that he’s the Messiah. Ever since Mother told him so. It’s turned his head. He’s deluding himself. I’ve stopped caring what it does to his own reputation and safety, but I resent it when the things he says and does puts us in danger. And they will, I’m telling you, they will!”

“Well,” says Simon, “he says he’ll be home soon. Then you can judge for yourselves. I’m not prejudging anything.”

“Well said,” whispers a soft voice from her bedroll. “When he comes here, watch him carefully and listen to what he says. Then see what you think. If he is capable of healing diseases, let’s see him do it here in Nazareth.”

“Fine, Grandmother. But I’ll be watching him very carefully. He’ll have no chance to pull the wool over my eyes. It’ll be a good test. That is,” James adds, “assuming he does come home and the reason for him not coming so far is that he’s afraid we’ll find him out.”