The Madonna and the Political Prisoner, Chapter 13/2

We set off earlier today. We found out yesterday that Joshua was last heard of in Bethsaida at the north east end of Lake Genneseret. It’ll be best to journey via the western coast rather than take a boat across the lake, as we’ll be going through Capernaum and we believe people there will have news of where Joshua is exactly. There’s a good crowd of us who are determined to meet up with Joshua and persuade him to return back to us if possible, or at least give our village another chance. Most of us are agreed on this. James and Judas and Clopas’s sons are still adamantly opposed, citing the danger to Joshua himself and us, his family, if we have a repeat of the synagogue incident. But I’ve argued, and Benjamin and Simon have supported me, that if Joshua can work here as he’s obviously done elsewhere, and if he brings many of his supporters with him, the danger is minimal.

So, as I’ve said, we’re a crowd. There’s my sister, Salome, her boy, Isaac and my brother Benjamin. His daughter, Anna, has come too – after our earlier heart to heart, she pleaded with her father to be allowed to come. Cousin Susannah was visiting us and heard of our intentions and asked to come also. Then James, Simon and Judas have all come, leaving Joe, and my nephews and cousins in charge of our business. Andrew, my daughter Salome’s husband, is with us and Clopas’s two sons, James and Jude. James has recruited them as he didn’t want to be outnumbered by those of us whom he thinks will be too easily persuaded by Joshua’s eloquent words. James wanted Rabbi Jonas, Clopas’s brother-in-law, to come too, but he refused. He’s always opposed any link with Joshua and has disputed with Joel over him in the past. Jonas’s opposition goes right back to the time when I was accused of inadvertently betraying my rebel father’s presence to Herod’s soldiers and subsequent pregnancy which he always averred was both adulterous and blasphemous. So that makes twelve of us in total. I think five of us are either believers in Joshua or at least hoping that he is all that many say he is. Four are definitely non-believers. I’ve no real idea of the views of the other three. I just hope they are open-minded enough to give him a good hearing.

We’re staying in Kana tonight. My sister Rebecca will welcome us and I want to persuade her to join us. She, like sister Salome and cousin Susannah, has been my friend and confidante for years and would, if she feels able to come, be a great support for me, should anything go wrong. Perhaps her son, Nathan, can be persuaded to join us too – her daughter Susannah now has a young child so I doubt if she’ll be able to leave home.

I leave the men, on arrival, to unload our two donkeys and set up the tents while I take Salome, Susannah and Anna to greet Rebecca.

“Greetings, my dear sister.” She kisses me on both cheeks. She is, as always, overjoyed to see me. “And to what do we owe this pleasure? You’ve a veritable army with you. What expedition is this? You’re going the wrong way for Jerusalem!”

So I tell her. Salome and Susannah crowd round her and confirm everything I say. She looks at Anna who’s said nothing so far.

“Well, my lovely little bride-to-be, so you’re venturing on this exciting trip as well rather than staying at home to get everything ready for your wedding. Have you finished all the preparations already?”

“No, not yet.” Anna blushes and looks down.

“But she pleaded to come. She’s always loved her uncle and hopes we can persuade him to come back home and reveal himself as Messiah and prophet and stop all the silly opposition. I’m sure she still has plenty of time to complete her wedding preparations.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to criticise her. I think it admirable that she wants to see him for herself. And that brings me to my own view. I’d like to join you – may I?”

“Of course, Rebecca. You can share my tent. I’d love to have your company. What about Nathan – do you think he’d join us too?”

“I’ll ask him, but I fear it may be a bit short notice. He’s got family responsibilities now and I suspect he’ll be reluctant to leave his farming activities to others, even for a short absence. But I’m longing to see your son in action. Ever since you confided in us children in the fields, I’ve always been curious about Joshua and the claims you made for him and now it all seems to be happening, I hear…”

“What have you heard?”

“That he’s a great prophet, that he’s attracting hundreds of followers, of course. Why, haven’t you heard?”

“How do you know all this?”

“I thought everyone knew. It’s common knowledge in Magdala and other villages round the lake.”

“And do your children believe all they’ve heard?” I turn to Susannah. “And what about your boys? I’ve never heard Reuben express a clear opinion, although he’s aware of the rumours about Joshua as he hears them from his visits in Sepphoris.”

“Well, we’ve discussed it, of course,” answers Susannah. “I wouldn’t say they’re believers as they’ve not been to hear him. They think it interesting, though, and tell me everything they learn about him from those who’ve seen him in action. They find his healing work most praiseworthy but I’ve heard them express doubts about some of the things he says. They say he sometimes appears to forgive people who confess their misdeeds. I’m not sure about that – I thought that was only the Lord God’s prerogative. But perhaps he’s been misreported. It’s easy to get details like that wrong.” Rebecca is listening with great interest.

“That’s similar to the rumours I hear around here.”

“Well, Rebecca, why don’t you come with us? We’ll find out at first hand exactly what he does say and do. We’ll hear it from his own lips.”

And so, next day we set out, now thirteen of us – with nearly half of us now believers in my son’s mission and deeds. We travel downhill on the highway leading into Magdala and buy provisions for the next leg of our journey, including fish fresh from the market by the harbour. I love it here. While the men barter for our provisions, Anna, Susannah and I sit on the harbour wall and watch the fishing boats going in and out. The lake shimmers in the heat, I have to shade my eyes from the glare. It’s over thirty years since I’ve seen this lake on that fateful trip to see my father in the caves high up in the cliffs. Here it seems friendlier, the water is calm, lapping placidly against the wooden stumps to which several fishing boats are moored. I tell Anna and Susannah about the harbour in Alexandria and the huge ocean-going boats I saw there coming in under the lighthouse from Rome and Athens and other exotic places. I’m afraid I’m making Anna envious, so I have to remind her it’s not always quite so simple – not when you’re a refugee as I was, anyway.

The men with Salome and Rebecca come back with ample provisions from the market and we make our way out of the town and by nightfall we’ve nearly reached Capernaum. We stay in sight of the lake all the way. There is action to see all the time – sails catching the glow from the western sun, setting behind us as we veer eastwards along the northern shore. We eat a satisfying meal by the waterside. The tents are grouped in a circle and the cool of the evening is pleasant despite a plague of gnats that pester us for a while until darkness falls. I’m happy now. We seem at last to be a real family group. James has not voiced his views nor have Clopas’s sons, so there’s no arguing or bickering. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so relaxed.

I get up early in the morning and wash myself in the lake. I watch the sunrise over the low hills on the far side. They’re so clear in this early morning light. The pink reflections glisten in the water hurting my eyes if I stare at them for too long. Then my sisters join me and give me a hug. We sit and chat about the time when we were children playing at the well or in the fields.

“Come on, Mari,” they say. “Tell us one of your stories you were so good at making up!”

“Oh, I can’t remember any now. That was so long ago. I don’t need to invent stories when my life has been so extraordinary. If you really want some good stories, you’d better ask Joshua when we see him. They say he tells wonderful stories now. He always did entertain children in the village with his tales, but they say he gives much of his message in riddles and down to earth examples from our everyday existence.”

Anna and Susannah join us for a while, before we decide that we’d better prepare something for our breakfast otherwise the men will soon be complaining. We’ve bought plenty of bread and have the fish we purchased in Magdala. There’s no harm in eating it all now, as I’m sure we can get a new supply in Capernaum as fishing is said to be its main occupation.

As we begin to move off towards the town which we can see nestling on the shoreline about a couple of miles away, we spot half a dozen small fishing boats making their way towards Capernaum’s small harbour. They’ve obviously been out all night. I wonder how much they’ve caught. We should just about be in time to buy fish from the night’s catch.

When we approach the town, I notice a number of people looking at us – they seem to be a little alarmed. I realise that we must seem quite a crowd of strangers and cause some curiosity although I’m sure we can’t look threatening. Anyway, one of the men we pass as we reach the first houses of the village calls out to us and asks us our business. Benjamin answers that we’re Joshua’s family from Nazareth and have come to look for him. The man then grins broadly and comes over and clasps Ben firmly on the shoulder.

“Welcome, friend. You’ll find many here who will tell you everything you need to know and help you search for the prophet. He can’t be far away. Many of our men and even some of the women have followed him. But talk to the ordinary people. Don’t bother to enquire of the priests and other intellectuals. They pretend they’re not interested in what Yeshua has to say.”

“Yeshua?” I wasn’t sure if I’d heard right. The man’s voice was rough, a stronger Galilean accent than in our village.

“Yes, you mean Yeshua, don’t you? The prophet from Nazareth.”

So he’s even changed his name from that which we used at home. I know his real name was that, but we’ve all called him Joshua all his life. Has he wanted to signify a complete break from us? I don’t know why, but I feel a little disappointed at this. It’s such a small thing, but perhaps it signifies something I’d rather not accept.

We confirm that it must be the man we’re seeking.

“You must look for Simon’s house. It’s one of the fisherman’s cottages down by the shore in the centre of the town, you can’t miss it. Everyone knows Simon. You won’t find him there at the moment, he’s a friend of your Yeshua, but his family will know where he is, I’m sure of it.”

“Simon’s house? Is he a fisherman?”

“Oh yes. Everyone knows Simon. Big man, great extrovert, speaks first, thinks afterwards, but a great heart. If you ever needed it, Simon would give you the last shirt on his back. His family are the same. You’ll find Rachel, his wife, at home with the kids. Ask anyone, they’ll direct you to the house. And Rachel will welcome you, although you’re a bit too many to expect hospitality. She’ll be most put out that she can’t look after you all. She’s used to feeding a crowd because Simon brings Yeshua home with all their friends. A right houseful that is, I can tell you.”

So we enter the town around mid-morning. There is a bustling everywhere, the market is at its height with animals mingling with the people going about their business. You can tell it’s a fishing village for there are many stalls selling fresh fish and the smell pervades the market. Ben enquires the whereabouts of Simon’s house from one of the fish stallholders and we are directed down the gentle slope towards the lake shore, from the open square and the synagogue into the narrow streets that wind between small cottages that apparently belong mostly to the town’s fishermen. We stop outside one of the bigger cottages.

“I think this is the one,” says my brother. We look at it but it appears to be shut up. “We can’t all appear at the door, it’ll make whoever is there nervous. Why don’t you and Salome knock and tell whoever answers who we are and what we’re seeking?”

So I knock on the wooden door and at first there is no response. But I think I can hear movement in the yard behind the house, so I knock louder. I hear footsteps and the door is drawn half back and a woman’s face appears and gapes at me. Then she opens the door wider and I see a dark haired woman of around thirty years of age, holding a toddler. Behind her in the darkness I can see the silhouette of a couple of young girls who come forward shyly to peer at me. She looks at me quizzically.

“Are you Simon’s wife? It’s been suggested that we make contact with you.”

“Who are you?” she asks quickly before I can introduce myself. She hands the small child to one of the girls, presumably his sister.

“My name is Mariam and this is my sister, Salome. We’re here with our family from Nazareth. We’re looking for my son, Joshua. I’m told you know him and might be able to tell us where we can find him.”

“Joshua? Oh, you mean Yeshua, the rabbi, do you? The miracle-worker from Nazareth?”

“Yes, that’ll be him. I understand he lives here in this town although he travels around this area teaching and preaching. Do you know where he is now?”

“My husband Simon will be with him at the moment but I don’t know exactly where he is. You’d better come in. Rhoda”, she says turning to the girl nearest her, “go and fetch some cups and the water jar. These people will be thirsty. Oh, by the way, I’m Rachel. My husband is a friend and follower of you son.”

“Don’t put yourself to any trouble, Rachel. We’re a crowd. My other sister, brother and my children are all with me. Just tell me where you think I might find Yeshua and your husband and we’ll all be on our way.”

“Nonsense, you’re all welcome if your Yeshua’s family. You can all come in, it’ll be a bit of a squash, but as long as you don’t mind…” She flings the door wide open and beckons the rest in who have been waiting in the street a few cottages back.

The cottage reeks of fish and I see James wrinkle his nose as he enters the dimly lit room, for there’s only one small window through which the sun’s rays slant. Rachel disappears for a moment and we squat on the floor as best we can in the confined space. Rhoda has lugged a large water pot in and has gone back to get some cups, then Rachel reappears with a loaf of bread.

“This is all I have, I’m afraid, at present, but if you wait for a minute, I slip out to the market and get some fresh fish for you.”

“Rachel, please, there’s no need. We’ll be stocking up in the market before we leave Capernaum if Yeshua is any distance away. A drink of water will be welcome, but that’s quite sufficient.”

The woman makes to protest further, but gives way when the men back me up and then concentrates on making sure her two daughters hand out the water without spilling any. When we’ve made ourselves comfortable and drained our cups, I repeat my request about Yeshua’s whereabouts.

“Why, is anything wrong?” We’ve aroused her curiosity.

“No, but we want to find him. We hear so many rumours of all he is doing and saying that we want to see for ourselves.”

“Oh, he’s doing everything that’s rumoured and more. My husband and his brother are so impressed with him that they’re following him everywhere. And some of the other fishermen have gone too. It created quite a problem at first as two of the boats lost their main crews and we had to rely on hired help. But the old man, Zebedee, sorted that out for us, so we can manage though I’d appreciate my husband around more than he is. The children miss their father. Does Yeshua have his own family? He’s never mentioned one.”

“Do you know him well? It’s just Yeshua, he’s never married. But he has four brothers and two sisters, all with wives and husbands and many children. We’ve left most of the younger generation at home, but we’re curious to see him.”

“Well, Yeshua stayed here with us last month. He was in the synagogue every day speaking to crowds – not just from here. Many came from other villages in the neighbourhood to hear him, and some brought sick people for healing. I think most came out of curiosity and wanted to see him healing people. In the end he got very tired and went into the hills behind the town to rest and be alone. Simon resumed fishing for a few days, then when he returned, Yeshua was all fired up and wanted to be on the move. That was a good month ago, as I said. I haven’t seen them since then, but they went off to the east towards Bethsaida and I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d find them there. That’s the best advice I can give you. One of the disciples of the rabbi returned home briefly last week and said they were still circulating in the smaller villages around Bethsaida. So I’d start looking there if I were you.”

It is clear that Rachel has said as much as she can to help us. She offers us another drink and again presses us to have a meal with her, but we want to get on our way and find Joshua, today if possible, although I think we’ll probably need a further night’s camping before we can find him.

We eventually make our farewells to this hospitable woman and continue eastwards along the shoreline, watching the fishermen who are checking their nets after the night’s catch.

James is busy grumbling to his cousins, James and Jude, and I catch some of his grouse. Trust James to be critical. I hear what seems like some disparaging remarks about the woman who has just been so helpful to us. He didn’t like her accent and thinks the fishermen’s cottages dirty and smelly. I thought her home was spotless although I grant that the fishy aroma was strong. But I guess if you’re married to a fisherman you soon get used to it. But I know what he is thinking. He is again judging Joshua by the company he keeps. He thinks he ought to be mixing with rabbis and teachers in Jerusalem, rather than with what he calls the common folk here. I don’t think that he looks down on such people but he doesn’t believe in a Messiah who disregards the most learned and religious. And that they clearly aren’t.

It’s odd the way James seems to split his mind. On the one hand he doesn’t believe Joshua is the Messiah. And on the other, he expects him to behave as though he thinks the Messiah would. When I tackle him on this, he says that if Joshua were to spend his time with the authorities and religious high-ups in Jerusalem, then perhaps he’d believe Joshua’s calling, but when Joshua did just that in the Temple and with John out in the Wilderness, he rejected him and his arguments completely. I just don’t understand my son. How can he be so different? When he was small, he and Joshua used to play so happily together – James always wanted to do everything that Joshua did. Now look at them!