The Madonna and the Political Prisoner, Chapter 17

Chapter 17 AD 25

We stayed in Nain for a few weeks to cope with the crowds who’d come because they’d heard of the miracle of the young man’s restoration to life. One night, when I’ve slipped out of my sister’s house to gaze at the stars and think quietly, I nearly bump into Joshua. I’m able to get a few minutes alone with him at last. It’s already dark and he’s told his followers that he wants to be alone to pray, a routine that they accept as normal.

“Mother, are you alright? There’s quite a tough walk ahead for you. We ought to be on our way soon as I need to get to Jerusalem before the Passover and you’ve seen how difficult it is to leave a village once the people know I’m here. It’ll be the same all the way, even in Samaria.”

“Yes, son. I’m just enjoying the peace of the night. After the crowds and constant activity of the day, I find it a blessing to be alone. I say alone, but I find now is the time I can sense God is around me, protecting me, leading me. So I’m not really alone. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“Exactly. We share a similar need and experience.”

“I don’t know how you keep going. You’re in constant demand from morning until darkness falls and even then your presence at various evening meals is expected and I’m sure you can’t relax then. People will want to ask you questions and even bring more sick people for you to heal. Doesn’t it tire you out?”

“Yes, it can be exhausting, especially when so many need healing – that takes power from me. But how can I refuse? When I see so much suffering, I cannot turn my back on it. I can only keep going through this time I set aside for prayer. Sometimes I use this late hour, other times I enjoy the freshness of dawn, when only a few people are about and I can lose myself in my father’s presence.”

“Joshua, I know you spend much of your time healing so many of their afflictions, but why is it necessary? Why are so many ill or possessed by madness and delusions? Why does God allow so much suffering? You can’t heal everyone, how do you choose whom to heal and whom not to?”

“That’s a hard question, Mother. I often ask my father the same question. I know some men say that such afflictions are punishments for sins committed. There can be an element of truth in that – I have healed men and women crippled by guilt which has not just corrupted their minds but has caused physical symptoms also, sometimes quite severely. At other times the innocent become victims of the sins or neglect of others. Many illnesses are caused by the conditions endured by the poorest and most vulnerable which the more fortunate members of our communities ignore. In such cases I feel that I’m being asked to right the wrongs perpetrated by our nation. But there are cases that baffle me. Last year I was moved to restore a young girl who’d died from a fever. Her home was clean, her parents caring. I looked at her and my heart nearly broke. Then I realised that I even had the power to overcome death itself. Perhaps that was why she died – to teach me more of my own capability if I trusted my God to the uttermost.”

“That seems a bit hard on the parents and those who loved her.”

“I’m not saying that God caused her to die so that I could learn. But he certainly used the opportunity to open my eyes to what was possible. I expect there was a reason that could be explained. Although her home was clean, the town’s streets were not. Insects carry disease and poor and dirty places provide the right conditions for such to breed and multiply. And man has had the opportunity to apply his thinking and his resources to tackle such problems and find solutions to reduce such innocent suffering. But what does he do? Where are his priorities? He bends his mind to greed and acquisitiveness. He devises ways of out-smarting his fellow human beings. He wages war. If man’s ingenuity had been applied to the health and welfare of all, rich and poor, for the last centuries, then perhaps this sea of suffering we experience now would not exist, or at least be so much less.”

“So you think you can now put it all right?”

“Of course not, Mother. I can only show the way. I will not be around for ever – indeed, the next few months could see me imprisoned or even killed like Cousin John. No…, don’t protest, Mother, you know that’s true. I want to show that such healing is possible for all who believe. My disciples, they are learning. Most of them succeeded in healing diseases when I sent them out in pairs recently. I know Matthew and Thomas failed, but they will succeed. And they will pass on their faith and gifts to others who in turn will offer the world such gifts – gifts that God is offering us now to save many from the sins and neglect of their ancestors and the failures of leaders and governments to prioritise their resources.”

“Why did you restore that young man to the widow Sarah? And yet you’ve ignored others who’ve died in all the places you’ve been. You can’t keep everyone alive surely? Why him, why the young girl you talked about?”

Because I was there, Mother. Because I saw the distress and I could see their needs. Because the people accompanying the widow were concerned for her and had seen me and believed I could heal. Because I was asked.”

“Who asked you?”

“The girl’s parents asked for help. The eyes of the crowd following the young man’s bier pleaded for him. I will not act unless people ask me and believe I can help them. The same will be true for my followers. The same applied to what I did for your brother Benjamin. None of you really asked me to heal him with confidence on your hearts that I could do it. But Anna did. She pleaded with me. I ignored her at first to test her, but she persevered and implored me. ‘You can do it’, she kept repeating. ‘You can if you want to.’ And of course I wanted to. So I did. Why didn’t you ask me to, or Benjamin himself or Rachel, his wife – or even Matthew or Thomas? They all saw me enough times. But it was left to little Anna. I find this time and time again. You have to trust God just as when you were a young child and trusted your father and mother.”

“Does it always work? Does it mean if you don’t heal someone that their faith was insufficient?”

“Not necessarily. Sometimes I tell someone that I will not heal them. Perhaps there is a lack of faith. But sometimes I don’t feel it’s right. There is another reason why they cannot be healed. Perhaps their life plan is complete. Perhaps they are healed in their mind by coming to terms with their affliction. Some people can overcome big handicaps and live a worthwhile life demonstrating that possibility to others so afflicted. We cannot live on this earth for ever, we have to move on. This is not the end. Sometimes I feel that my main mission – to invite people to live in the kingdom of God on earth and in heaven – is becoming swamped by the people who seek only to see the miracles. I have limited time. I cannot spend all my time healing, for that is but temporary. My message is for eternity. But most people do not realise this and would deflect me from my main purpose.”

We are silent for several minutes. I’m trying to absorb all he’s just said to me. I’ve watched him being surrounded here by the crowds and I know what he’s just said is true. They want miracles. Yes, they find what he says interesting and arresting for the moment, but they’ve really come to see something spectacular.

At length I decide to open up on the subject that is bothering me.

“Is that why you won’t do something to convince James? It’s embarrassing sometimes how much he disputes with you and demonstrates to others how our family is divided.”

“There’s nothing unusual in that, Mother. The things I say and do divide many families. It’s inevitable unless I take away their power of choice. James has seen me restore Sarah’s lad to life. He can’t deny the evidence of his eyes any longer. If he believes in me just because of that, then he will not see the need to change his own life, his relationship with you, with Deborah, his brothers, his neighbours, and above all, with God. He sees his relationship with God through religious practices, through saying the right words and observing the right rituals.”

“Is there no hope for him then?”

“Of course there is. He’ll change, Mother, you’ll see it one day. But let any change come from the heart, not from the superficial persuasion of a healing miracle. You’ll find it hard one day. You’ll need your deep-rooted faith, not one that can be blown away by the first setback received.”

“James says that what you’re saying and doing is dangerous for all of us. Are you telling me that you think the future dangerous too? Are you saying that to save this country we’re going to have to fight?”

“Not physically. But mentally and spiritually, yes. I’ll be misunderstood. Many who understand me will not like what they understand. The authorities in Jerusalem will seek to silence me.”

“Then why are you going there? Could you not do more good by staying away from there?”

“To do what, Mother? To spend more time here and in other places healing the sick? I’m not called by my father just to be a doctor. I have a message to proclaim and it will not make me popular with the rich and influential. The only way to stay out of danger is not to proclaim the message. I can delay until the time is right, but I cannot put off the inevitable conflict which will come. Do you want to turn back? It’s going to be a hard journey ahead in more ways than one.”

“I’m frightened for you, Joshua, but I’ll be with you. Do these followers of yours all understand what you’re saying?”

“I don’t think it’s dawned on them all yet. One or two still think I’m going to lead a revolution against the Romans, but I think the majority have let that idea go. Our revolution is harder than that, it’s to fight against evil, selfishness, obstinacy, prejudice and pride and to conquer all with love and compassion. That’s a stronger and weaker weapon at the same time. In the short term we may seem to lose the battle. But God will ensure that love wins out in the end. You, of all people, should know that. When you were a young girl, you learned that lesson well. You’ve not allowed age to dampen your faith, dim your idealism, have you? Of all my family, you are my rock, the person I can trust. Anna too, but she is still young and untested.”

“Can you trust all your followers though? You call Simon Peter your ‘rock’ too. Will he cope with what you say is going to happen? Is he really the best?”

“He’ll fail once or twice, but I trust him to come through in the end. There are others who are firmer, but are less demonstrative, not so articulate in their faith. I trust young John. He’s thoughtful and caring, but he doesn’t find it so easy to express himself before large crowds – Simon Peter is fearless like that. John is better at thinking things through, talking to me quietly to ensure he’s understood. He’ll write things down and what he says and thinks will last longer. You should talk to John more. You two can strengthen each other, I’m sure of that.”

I make a mental note to spend time with John.

“What about the others? One of James’s constant complaints to me is that he doesn’t think you’ve chosen your friends well. He says that with all your education, he’d have expected you to seek out the scholars and those who’ve had more education.”

“You’ve probably heard me say that it’s difficult for rich men to enter the kingdom of God because they’re too constrained by their wealth and possessions. It’s unfortunately somewhat similar for the intellectuals. Their constant questioning and disputing makes it difficult for them to trust and act on truth when they hear it. They test it to death and never get round to acting, even if their intellect finally accepts the truth.”

“Are you saying that clever people can never accept you?”

“No, Mother, but sometimes it’s harder for them. I have met several who have helped me though they seem strangely reticent to be open in their support. They tend to see all sides to any question. But if and when they do fully accept what I tell them, they can be very valuable for they appreciate what is important and can act with sensitivity.”

“Who are these people? Do I know them?”

“There’s a couple I’ve met in Jerusalem, one is a man called Nicodemus who’s a member of the Sanhedrin and will speak up for me if necessary. Our friend, Lazarus, in Bethany. He’s had a good education and he and his family are great supporters. And you knew and were helped by Zechariah who was a very learned priest well respected by all at the Temple many years ago. It’s not impossible, Mother, just more difficult. But the kingdom needs all sorts.”

“Are any of your followers educated?”

“John and his brother James are reasonably educated – for a fishermen I hear some say - but I have more problems with the two of my followers who are probably the brightest, Judas and Matthew, than all the rest put together.”

“Why, how are they a problem?”

“They think they know best. They subject everything I say to their tests of reason, and whilst that is sometimes appropriate, it is not always so. Sometimes you have to see beyond reason and take a risk for what you value most.”

“Why did you choose them then?”

“Because they are representative of many people. I cannot restrict my appeal to only one class of person. All have to be invited even if not all will accept. And I saw that Matthew wanted desperately to change. He was in an occupation that made him hated and I saw how motivated he was, so I took the risk. And he is succeeding. I said he could be difficult, but he can be won over. He is a useful foil for me, he makes me express my reasons for actions that some of the others would just accept without thinking. That’s good.”

“And Judas?”

“Ah, Judas Iscariot. Now he’s an interesting man. He probably has more potential than all the rest. But I’m not sure if I’m winning him over yet. He’s the only one who asked me if he could become my disciple. All the rest were invited by me and then responded. He has his own agenda and it doesn’t always correspond with mine. He thinks that I am a means to his end and tries to manipulate me sometimes. I usually win him over, but I’m not sure of his reaction when we get to Jerusalem. I’ll need to rein him in, as he is the most politically motivated and he could set events in motion that run counter to my intentions.”

“What is his intention then? What does he think you can do for him?”

“He believes I’m the Messiah, I’m sure of that. But his interpretation of the Messiah’s role clashes with mine. He was active as a Zealot in his youth. He foreswore violence and joined me, but I believe that was his realism at work rather than a change in his views. He is desperate to rid our country of the Romans and now believes he can support me to achieve this politically rather than with force of arms.”

“And how does he expect you to do that?”

“He wants me to harness this great support I have in Galilee and the far side of the Jordan and negotiate with the Romans from strength. He thinks I can convince the priests and rabbis in the Temple that I’m the Messiah, then they’ll side with me and issue the Romans an ultimatum that will lead to a much lighter Roman presence that can be whittled away until the Jewish nation stands proud and independent once more.”

“Is there any chance of that?”

“Frankly, no, and I’ve told him so. The priests and rabbis and the Sanhedrin have their influence and power from the Romans and whatever they say privately to Jews for political reasons, they’ll always act to preserve their own interests. Despite his intellect, Judas is naïve. I’m going to have to challenge the religious authorities in Jerusalem for the kingdom I’m talking about is not one that interests the Romans. I foreswore that sort of earthly power a long time ago. I’m going to have to battle the religious authorities to rescue men’s souls – that’s far more important.”

“You accept the Roman presence then? You don’t see driving the foreign power out as the mission of the Messiah?”

“No, Mother. I can live with the Roman occupation. I sympathise with those who feel exploited or harassed by the Romans but there have been worse. I’ve had contact with a number of Roman officials and soldiers and found some of them remarkably generous men and just. There are cruel and bad men among them, of course, but all nations have their would-be tyrants, given the opportunity.”

“How do you interpret the scriptures then that talks of the Messiah’s saving of the nation?”

“Don’t you remember my words when I was invited to interpret the prophet Isaiah’s words in the synagogue in Nazareth? I told the congregation there that the kingdom of God was already installed whenever justice, love, care and compassion were present – as a gift and right of all, not just to the wealthy and influential. The saving of the soul of the nation is a far more vital task than the saving of its own sovereignty – and incidentally, much harder to achieve.”

There is a long silence while I savour his words. On the one hand I feel a sense of relief that he does not foresee any physical fight or violence. But I‘m uneasy all the same. I can see his determination and although I’ve no knowledge of the Jerusalem priests and their views, I’m prepared to accept what he says, even though it conflicts with my experience there – for the only Jerusalem priests I’ve met were my lovely Uncle Zechariah and the two rabbis who brought Joshua back to us when we’d lost him and had expressed such admiration for his intelligence. However, I know different attitudes from my own experience in Nazareth. Despite Rabbi Joel’s support, I remember Eli’s intransigence and Jonas’s present opposition.

I’m wondering if this is the end of our conversation, whether I should let him go to pray as he said was his intention. I don’t want to tire him further. But there is one other issue I want to raise with him and this is a good opportunity.

“Joshua, what do you want me to do? How can I and the other women help you best?”

“You’re all my disciples too, aren’t you?”

“I thought only men were allowed to be the disciples of rabbis?”

“That may be our culture and custom. But it’s not a very good custom. There is no formal ceremony for making anyone a disciple. A disciple is a person who is with me, spends time with me, listens and follows me, tries to learn and put into practice what I say. Are you any different from Simon Peter or John in this? You probably understand me a lot better than most of the men. And certainly Mary of Madgala does.”

Ah, Mary. Should I broach that subject with him now?

“Why is Mary such a close follower of you? Is she a disciple or something more?”

“What do you mean, Mother?”

“Is she your wife? No, I didn’t mean that, obviously she’s not. But she seems at times so close to you and you often talk to her on your own, that she seems as intimate as a wife would be. It wouldn’t be a bad idea, you know.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No, I’m really asking if that’s what you want.”

“Is that what Mary wants? Has she asked me to speak to you on this?”

“No, actually she asked me not to.”

“I’m glad of that but I do value her, Mother. Her support and devotion to my cause is so strong. She is as good as any of the male disciples and I treat her as such, even though I can see that it sometimes irritates the men, whose minds are slower to move on from our traditional culture. But marriage? That would create problems, diversions from my purpose. It would create tensions within the group and deflect me from the things I need to say and do in Jerusalem. It would tie me to one person when my mission is for all. You know the family problems that I’ve already caused. James and others of my brothers think already that I should put my own family first rather than treat you all as equals to the rest of mankind.”

“I think Mary suspects that too, which is why she won’t say anything to you.”

“Then leave it, Mother, as it is. Let us not hurt anyone unnecessarily. She knows I care about her. She’s already hugely grateful for how I’ve helped her. Let that suffice.”

“How did you help her?”

“That’s hers to tell you if she wants to. I’ll not betray any confidences, even to you.”

“But has her past the potential to hurt or damage you? I don’t want your mission undermined by what people can say about your relationship with her.”

“Ah, people have been talking, have they? They don’t know what she’s said to me, so they’re probably wrong. Ignore them, Mother. I know her as she is now and so do you. And I need her presence and yours and that of the other women. When things get difficult, as they will, I’ll need your presence and support. I suspect you may be more use than some of the men.”