The Madonna and the Political Prisoner, Chapter 14

Chapter 14 AD 24

We arrived in Bethsaida on the far bank of the Jordan River in the late afternoon and after the men erected the tents on the outskirts of the town, Salome and Rebecca prepared the evening meal using the fish and bread we’d bought in Capernaum. The tents were ready long before the meal, so my twins, Simon and Judas offered to go into the town and see if they could discover Joshua’s whereabouts. I thought they must have found him for they were gone much longer than I expected, but when they eventually returned, they said that he’d left Bethsaida a couple of days earlier to tour the villages on the far side.

They’d been directed at first down to the little harbour as apparently Joshua and his friends had arrived on a fishing vessel belonging to Simon and his brother. They’d found the boat moored there, but it was deserted. A fisherman on another boat shouted that they’d been sleeping overnight on the vessel until a couple of nights previously and he’d heard one of the men say they’d be away for a few days as they were planning to go to some of the outlying tiny villages. Apparently he’d added that we’d soon find them as half the population of the town seemed to have abandoned their normal activities in order to see this new celebrity.

So we settled for the night and set out the following morning. Several people confirmed as we wound our way through the town that the rabbi and his disciples had turned towards the inland villages north east of their town and we were pointed to the track where everyone said they’d gone. We could see a lot of confirming evidence for the track was very dusty and crops at the edge of the fields flattened as though trampled by a herd of bullocks. We came across our first village and it was nearly deserted. There were a few old people and a couple of young women with babes in arms, but everyone else had disappeared. ‘They’ve all gone to see the miracle man’ was the response we got from everyone we spoke to.

We saw them in the early afternoon. We’d stopped for an hour to rest in the shade of an olive grove when the sun was at its highest and as we breasted the brow of a low hill, we caught our first sight of them. We were astounded. The hill on the other side of the valley was black with people, hundreds, if not thousands. There must have been half the population of Bethsaida there as well as folk from all the surrounding villages. I could see it stopped James in his tracks. At least that’s proof that many are taking him seriously.

We continued down to the valley floor with renewed vigour, our goal now in sight. We could hear his voice above the hum of the crowd although for sometime we could not distinguish all the words he spoke, only catching an occasional one. Anna was skipping on ahead – she forgets that I’m not as young as I used to be. Susannah and I were content to bring up the rear along with Benjamin whose leg gives him quite a lot of pain these days.

Anyway, we eventually reach the edge of the crowd. There’s no obvious way we can move through the throng to get to Joshua and I suggest we wait until he’s finished speaking and the crowd disperses, but James and others are impatient.

“That could be a long time,” says Judas. “Come, brother, we’ll find a way through and tell him we’re here. He’ll finish then and send the crowd away – they’ll need to get back home to prepare their evening meals soon.”

So I watch Judas and his twin, Simon, weaving their way between the men and women sprawled out on the grassy hillside listening to Joshua. I’m getting a bit deaf and still can’t hear everything he’s saying, but I think I get the gist. People are calling out questions – I can’t hear what they’re asking but I do hear most of his answers. Someone must have just asked him about a family quarrel, for he’s talking about the need to forgive each other.

“How often?” I hear someone yell out very loudly. He’s obviously getting fed up with one of his relatives or acquaintances. Then I miss the rest of the sentence when the man drops his voice.

“Seventy times seven,” says Joshua loudly and I see some startled faces round me. If he means that much then he must mean we must always forgive for no-one will keep a tally that long. Then he goes into a monologue about the need to live at peace with our families and neighbours and starts telling a story about a man who owes a lot of money, but is let off and promptly demands the repayment of a much smaller loan from someone else who pleads to be forgiven. He seems to have started quite a lot of discussion because everyone round me starts arguing about whether the second man was within his rights or whether he now had a moral obligation to be equally generous.

It’s fascinating to watch how Joshua engages the crowd in what is now a real dialogue. He’s getting them to answer their own questions, although he’s gently nudging them in the direction he has planned. He’s very different from our rabbis, even Joel, who even when they encourage questions, expect to be the absolute authority to give the answer. And the answer is usually a quotation from the scriptures, rarely their own words.

I can see Simon and Judas have reached the group of men standing next to Joshua – I guess they must be some of the so-called disciples or friends from Capernaum. Joshua breaks off from his discourse when one of them comes forward and whispers something to him. He suddenly raises his voice.

“Friends,” he declaims in an echoing voice, “I’m told members of my family are here and wish to see me. But why should they have priority? You are all members of my family if you listen to what I’m saying and obey my words. You are my brothers, sisters, mothers, children if you do the will of my Father above.”

And then he carried on with the story he was in the middle of telling when he was interrupted.

“Hell and damnation,” exclaims James. He is furious. “The man’s publicly snubbing us. How dare he! We’re his own family and he’s rejecting us. That’s it. I’ve heard and seen enough. The man’s no respect for us whatsoever. There’s no point in waiting any longer. I’m off home.”

Cousins James and Jude look equally angry though they’re not saying anything at present. The others are looking bemused. I feel hurt too. That was a very humiliating thing for him to say in front of these thousands of people. Everyone is looking round to see if they can spot us. People near us are looking at us because they heard James’s outburst. Others are watching where Simon and Judas are going for most have picked up that they were members of the family who’d approached the friends standing round Joshua. All in my family are looking at me, waiting for my reaction. I try to think of something to stop James’s anger, to soften what he is saying.

“I don’t know what to say,” I stammer. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it as a snub. We’ll have to ask him why he said it later.” I can feel tears coming to my eyes and I turn away for I don’t want the others to see how upset I am.

“What makes you think he’ll see us later?” says James. “You heard what he said. He thinks everyone’s his family. We’re no more important to him than anyone else. So much for gratitude. I don’t know why you try to defend him seeing all you’ve been through on his behalf. He’s an ungrateful bastard and he doesn’t deserve you.”

Rebecca and Salome both come and give me a hug.

“Don’t listen to him, Mari,” says Rebecca. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m sure Joshua didn’t mean to hurt us. He didn’t say we were not important. He just said everyone else is equally important.”

“Rubbish!” interjects Jude. What he said was quite clear. He doesn’t want us. So much for coming all this way. It’s been a complete waste of time.”

Then there is further embarrassment. The people around us are looking at us and some are shaking their heads. Then someone shouts out,

“Will you lot over there be quiet? We’re trying to hear what the rabbi’s saying and I can’t hear a word with all your noise.”

Then it gets more embarrassing still when others turn round and ‘shush’ us and a couple call out ‘hear, hear!”

We get up and retreat to the edge of the crowd. Then I notice Anna is crying. I go over to her, no-one else seems to have noticed. I was about to ask her what the matter was, then I realise that’s a foolish question, so I just squeeze her wrist.

“Don’t cry, love. Let’s wait for Simon and Judas to come back. Perhaps he said something different to them.”

She doesn’t say anything but rubs her eyes and tries to look as though she’s not been weeping. We all gather at the edge of the crowd and wait for my two sons to rejoin us. No-one is listening to what Joshua is still saying, we’re too preoccupied with our own thoughts. As far as I’m concerned, we’re out of earshot. All I know is that Joshua is still in full flow and is holding the attention of most of the audience – well all of them in fact, other than the small group around us who’ve been distracted by our presence and raised voices.

Simon and Jude eventually stumble out of the seated bodies listening to Joshua and we crowd round them.

“What did he say to you?” About three voices simultaneously ask the same question including mine.

“He didn’t say anything to us,” answers Judas. “We never got to him. We were stopped by a couple of his burly friends. From their accent and smell, I guess they were his fishermen friends.”

“We asked one of them to take a message and say that we were here and would like to speak with him. The big one, I think it’s Simon, said he would and then you heard what Joshua said.”

“They wouldn’t let us any nearer. I asked if we could speak to Joshua himself, after all we are his closest relatives. But the man came back and said, ‘No way, not at the moment. Not now anyway’. So we had to turn back.”

“Might he see us later?” I say hopefully.

“Perhaps,” says Simon. “Joshua’s friends said we were interrupting. He was talking to a huge crowd who’d come many miles to see him, and that we were rude to expect him to break off and send everyone home. We were told to wait.”

“Did Joshua say that himself?” says Ben.

“No, one of his disciples passed the message on. I don’t know if Joshua said that or whether it was the man’s own idea.”

“So let’s wait and see,” I say with some relief. “Perhaps Joshua will come and find us when everyone’s gone home.”

“Well, prepare to stay all night,” says James angrily. “Heaven knows when this lot will have had enough and be willing to go home. They won’t unless they get too hungry. Then they’ll go, but that could be hours.”

So we congregate at the edge of the grassland adjacent to a field of wheat. Despite James and Clopas’s sons being fed up and wanting to go, the rest of us persuade them to wait. After all, we’ve got to camp somewhere and it might as well be here as anywhere else. So we wait. We’ve brought food with us and the men find some skins of wine and gradually their bad temper is assuaged. Benjamin and Andrew, Salome’s husband, have said little, but seem happy enough to wait for Joshua and see what he has to say. I do hope he comes and doesn’t let us down. If he goes away with his new friends without looking for us I’ll know he really has washed his hands of us and that’ll break my heart. And Anna’s too, I think, as I watch her. She’s said nothing more and just looks a bit solemn.

I begin to think the crowd will never go home. I think Joshua has stopped talking to them, but although some are drifting off, most are clustering around him. I don’t know what he’s doing. Then I hear someone say that there’s a queue of people asking him for help – people who’ve been carried here by friends, others who have walked but have a sickness or injury they think Joshua can cure. The sun is going down and we’ve finished our meal before the crowd eventually disperses and I see Joshua coming our way flanked by about four of his disciples.

But it was Anna who saw him coming first. She’d obviously been watching and she suddenly shoots off. When Joshua sees her he opens his arms and envelopes her as she flings herself at him, gives her a hug and puts his arm protectively round her as she leads him to where we are camped. He walks into the centre of our camp, noticing the embers of our fire.

“Anyone got anything to eat? I’m famished.”

To be honest, we’ve eaten nearly all our provisions. All the fish is gone. I find a few hunks of bread and luckily we still have some wine. I should have thought of making sure something was left for him, but I’d begun to think like my sons that he wasn’t coming. And then he gives some of the bread to his friends. Presumably they’ve been here all day without any sustenance. Surely they know what to expect by now? I find another couple of cups, swill them out with the remaining water and drain our supply of wine. I know what James is thinking but I refuse to look at him. He’s had his fill and he doesn’t need any more. We can buy more food and wine tomorrow back in Bethsaida.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“I thought you wanted me to stay with you, so here I am. I’m used to sleeping in the open air. I don’t need a tent.”

“What about your companions?”

“They’ll make do, the same as me. They’re used to my ways. Anyway, they’re fishermen. They’re accustomed to staying out all night on the lake, so sleeping rough is no hardship for them.”

I don’t know whether I should challenge Joshua about what he said earlier. He seems to be at ease now as though totally ignorant of any slight he may have caused. He can’t have meant anything by it. I don’t want to risk spoiling the atmosphere by raising the hurt he’s caused, he must have just been thoughtless. Then of course, James jumps in, both feet first.

“So why did you humiliate us in front of the crowd? Why did you make us wait? Why did you reject us as your family?”

“I didn’t reject you, James. I’m here now. And I’ve brought my friends with me to meet you. This is Peter – we’ve renamed him. There are too many ‘Simons’ round here, it gets very confusing and so we chose a name that suits his character. And his brother Andrew and these are John and James – another James – they’re the sons of Zebedee who owns many of the fishing vessels in Capernaum.”

“But you snubbed us when we said we were here and wanted to see you.”

“I got your message. Andrew told me. But couldn’t you see I was in the middle of talking to hundreds of men and women? What did you expect me to do? Did you think I’d leave everyone there and come over to see you? Surely you knew I wouldn’t do that? They’ve come from their villages especially to see and hear me. Surely you could wait until they’d gone home. I told Andrew I’d see you later.”

“But we’d come specially to see you too – we’ve come all the way from Nazareth, farther than any of those here, I’m sure.”

“But I knew you’d be staying near here, whereas the men and women in the crowd would have to go back to their villages to cook their meals and put their children to bed. And, what’s more, many had brought their sick. I couldn’t leave them suffering, could I, while I came to eat with you?”

“I understand what you’re saying – although I didn’t hear Andrew say you’d see us later.” My son, Simon, has spoken up. “But why did you have to tell the crowd that they were your family, that they were more important than us. That’s what really hurt.”

“I didn’t say they were more important. They’re equal. God values all of us. He values you, he values every single one of the crowd sitting on the hillside. He values the women, he values the children just as much. Therefore, if they are ready to reject the sins of their past lives and try to follow the principles I’m sharing with them, they’re God’s children, just as you and I are. That makes us all brothers and sisters together, doesn’t it?”

“But we’re your family, your real family. You should put us first!” James won’t let it go.

Joshua looks at him. He shakes his head slowly and just says “James!”

James looks sheepish and mutters under his breath, but he refrains from arguing further. I feel like pointing out to James that it’s not long ago that he was declaring that Joshua no longer belonged to our family, but I keep quiet as there’s no point in reminding James of his inconsistency. He doesn’t see it. He’s not thinking straight but is allowing his emotions to gain the upper hand. I think underneath that he’s actually jealous of Joshua but he won’t admit it.

We stay talking for a while. Anna is asking him questions which he is answering patiently and Susannah is hanging on his every word. The men are indignant that he’s wasting his time talking to the women when he should be giving them more attention. Well, I sense some of them are. Benjamin doesn’t seem bothered and seems proud that his daughter has restored her spirits and is getting Joshua to take her questions seriously. John, I see, has joined our menfolk and is busy describing all that Joshua has been doing since arriving in Bethsaida. I think he has a task on his hands if he is seeking to convince them though to be fair, they are listening.

Eventually people gradually drift away. The disciples go back to join their other friends – I gather there must be around ten or twelve of them who seem to be Joshua’s closest companions. Then Salome and Rebecca say they’re tired. Ben persuades Anna finally to let Joshua go and Susannah leads her back to one of the women’s tents. And all of a sudden I find I’m alone with Joshua.

“Well, Mother? Were you upset as well? I didn’t mean to demean you, I wanted to drive home to those listening how important to God they are. Most of them are poor farmers. They don’t understand their worth. They need to value themselves. I tell them all to love God and love their fellow human beings as much as themselves, but that’s not very helpful if they count themselves to be of little value. And the women and children are just as important. You ought to know that. You know how much God valued you. You were no older than Anna here when he chose you for something momentous. But you’ve always known that you were special to God. I need to make these people feel special too.”

I don’t argue with him. I sense he is saying something that’s very important to him. I wait for him to go on, but he has fallen silent. Perhaps he is expecting me to say something.

“Joshua, are you going to come back to Nazareth at all? Are you going to give us all a second chance?”

Joshua considers what I’ve said for a long time.

“Will it be any different, Mother? I can’t operate in an atmosphere of disbelief. And if I say things that offend our good villagers, it can’t make your life very easy.”

“I don’t know, son. I can’t promise anything. I’d really love you to come home – well, at least spend some time with us. I don’t see why people can’t accept you just as these villages here obviously do.”

“Well, as you saw before, you know how hard it is for them. As they said, they’ve known me all their lives. Well, perhaps they think they know me. It’s asking a lot from them especially after the last experience.”

“You’re not afraid of what they might do to you, are you?”

“No, Mother, I’m not afraid. It’s not that at all.”

“Well, then, will you consider it?”

“Leave me to think it over. I’ll pray about it. I’ve been thinking for sometime that I need to send my friends out on their own. They need to learn that they don’t need me to do everything. They should be capable of telling others about God’s kingdom and healing the sick just as I do.”

“Surely they can’t do that? You’ve learned much with the Essenes. They haven’t your experience and knowledge.”

“They could do it if they had the belief and confidence. I’ve got to give them the opportunity to try sometime. If I came to stay with you, perhaps that’s an opportunity for me to really test them. I’ll think about it. I’m not promising though. I need to learn God’s will, not my will or even yours.”

“I think we’d better get some sleep. It’s late. You’ve had a long day and the crowds must tire you. Your voice must be strained after having to shout all day.”

“In a while, Mother. I need to pray first. That’s where I get my rest and power from. I’ll think about what you say and entrust it to my Father’s will. I’m sure there’ll be a sign that will convince me of what is right.”

I give up. He must be shattered and I can’t understand why he can’t get some rest straight away. But he must know best. I’m tired and I’m going to lie down now, whatever he does. I can keep my eyes open no longer.

* * * * *

When I awake in the morning I realise he’s not here. The men are already up and about, someone’s feeding the asses and Anna has gone with Rebecca to fetch water. There’s only a little bread for breakfast. I’ll go into the nearest village and replenish our supplies. Hopefully we can get some grapes and figs to augment our bread, then we can get more fish and wine when we’re back in Bethsaida. Then I see Joshua walking down the track towards us. And Anna and Rebecca are coming too – their paths will cross in a minute.

Joshua has brought bread, olives and grapes. I don’t know where he got them from – I didn’t ask. Anna skips up to me.

“He’s going to come back with us, he says he will.” She’s really excited.

“Yes,” he says, when he reaches me. “This young lady has convinced me. I was still uncertain, waiting for a sign from God and the first words I hear on returning to you this morning are Anna saying ‘When are you coming home to us? So there’s my answer. I’ll come. We may all be disappointed, but I’ll take the risk. Anna believes in me and I’ll not let her down.”

When the others realise that he’s returning with us, there is some surprise. James, having criticised Joshua for not coming home, is now worried that his presence will put us all in danger. Some of the other men are dubious. ‘Why is he listening to Anna?’ is on their lips.

“I’ll follow you. I need to talk to my followers. When you get as far as Capernaum, camp there for a while. Simon Peter’s wife Rachel and John’s mother will make sure you’re provided with everything you need, I‘m sure of that. I’ll go back by boat. We need to get it back to Capernaum and I need to talk to my disciples and discuss the mission I have in mind for them. They need to talk it over with their families too. Then, when I’m sure they’ve grasped what I intend them all to do, I’ll join you and we can go back to Nazareth together. We’ll spend a day or two in Magdala. There’s a good friend I’d like you to meet there, you’ll like her, I’m sure.”

So we’re on our way home. We’re giving him another chance. Or rather, I think he’s giving us another chance. Let’s see if this time we can recognise who he is and what he can do if we let him.