The Madonna and the Political Prisoner, Chapter 19/1

Chapter 19 AD 26

Only five more days to the Passover meal, which we will celebrate in Jerusalem with Joshua. I’d thought we would have it here with Lazarus, Martha and Mary but Joshua has apparently made arrangements with a supporter he’s known since his last visit to have the meal in our capital city. He seems to think it important though I’m not sure why. We’re going up to Jerusalem today as Joshua wants to address the crowds who are swarming into Jerusalem from all over the country.

I hope he knows what he’s doing. I sense some of his disciples are a bit nervous about it and fear he might stir up controversy and opposition that could bring down the wrath of the authorities on us. We still have a large contingent of supporters with us and most are determined to follow us into Jerusalem. I think some of them think Joshua will, despite all his protestations, declare open rebellion against the Romans and expect the city to rise up in support of him.

I know Joshua is concerned about that. I overheard him last night talking to Simon Peter and Andrew and I gathered he was making plans to try to calm a potentially volatile situation. I didn’t catch the precise plan but I know they were discussing what they might do as they reached the main city gate. At least we have no worries of the type in the story Joshua told yesterday. No bandit in his right mind will tackle a crowd of the size that looks as though it will accompany us all the way.

Joshua and the disciples lead the way and a group of men from Ephraim, Jericho and Bethany have pushed in front of us women, then the disciples’ wives, Susannah, Salome and now two Marys – Lazarus’s sister as well as our Magdalene has come. Then there are a motley crowd, women and children as well as men, which include a sprinkling who’ve come all the way from Samaria as well as a good number from the Judean towns and villages, Jericho and Bethany.

We set out early this morning and it’s hard work as the road climbs steeply between the stark barren rocks, which reflect heat from the scorching sun, now blaring from a cloudless sky. Luckily, because of the size of the crowd, we are progressing relatively slowly. Joshua is mindful of the women and children in our midst and is resisting some of the younger men who are impatient to reach the city. I’m getting a little breathless, as are Susannah and Salome, but the two Marys make us hand over the baskets of food we’ve brought.

We pass the Mount of Olives high to our right and get our first view of the city walls as the road turns north and runs parallel to the city boundary. Around midday we reach the green and shady garden called Gethsemane and Joshua indicates that we should sit under the shade of the olive trees in the garden and eat some of the produce we’ve brought with us and drink before we become faint from the heat. We’re now quite close to the city wall and the Golden Gate is clearly visible, as are the Temple walls high above, shimmering in the haze. I notice that as soon as we sit down Joshua has a word with a huddle of his disciples and Simon Peter and Andrew set off towards the gate.

While we’re eating, my son James comes over – he’s been with the other disciples all morning. He’s had little to say recently for which I’m thankful. He seems satisfied that I’m being looked after by the other women and he’s left me in peace.

“They’ve gone to fetch a donkey, a colt for Joshua to ride into the city. He thinks it will send the right message to the authorities, rather than getting a horse which some of the men from Jericho had been advocating. He seems to think that the authorities will recognise that he’s come in peace rather than declaring rebellion and war. I don’t think it will make any difference. I think that message is too subtle for the crowd, they’ll go mad and so will the Romans and the Jewish leaders. They’ll see it as a challenge, the priests will read it that he’s claiming to fulfil the prophecy of Isaiah. Since I couldn’t persuade you to stay at home, I implore you to remain at the back of this mob and if there’s any sign of trouble I’ll come and fetch you, Susannah, Salome and Mary and we’ll get back to Bethany as fast as we can and before real trouble brews up.”

“Surely we’ll be safe in this crowd?”

“Mother, nothing can be guaranteed. I don’t trust this crowd. It’ll only take one of them to utter some stupid challenge or shove a priest or Roman soldier and then they’ll retaliate. Before you can decide what to do, you’ll find they’ve arrested Joshua and will come storming into the crowd to disperse us, staves and spears flung indiscriminately. The fact that you’re an older woman will make no difference. If you’re in the crowd, they’ll just lash out and if any innocent gets caught they’ll just say you were in the wrong place at the wrong time and have no sympathy.”

“James, I’ve come all this way with Joshua. I’ve always known he would be seen and recognised as the Messiah one day. I’m not going to run away from him at this stage. I’ve trusted God so far. I’m going to trust him now.”

“I’ve warned you enough times of the danger Joshua’s in. If you insist on staying with him, you’ll be tarred with the same brush. If trouble starts, I’m getting out. You can come with me if you like. If you stay, I’ll take no more responsibility for you. You’re not my mother any more.”

I wince at his vehemence. Surely he doesn’t mean what he is saying? Why has he come all this way against his better judgment if he intends to give up and leave me to my own devices now? He’s trying to bluff me and get me to weaken. I won’t.

“James, if you must, so be it. I’m staying, no matter what!”

He stamps his feet in annoyance and turns away. I watch him go back to Joshua and the group of disciples around him. I’m sure he is only trying to call my bluff. He doesn’t really mean it, does he?

We’ve finished our meal for the moment and the crowd is getting restive. Someone starts singing and then the whole crowd bursts into song, it’s one of King David’s songs of triumph. If they keep singing as we go into the city, the claim they are making for Joshua will be only too obvious. Some of the younger folk have started tearing leaves from the trees, then others go and find palm trees and rip great swathes of fronds down and start swinging them in time with the song. The crowd is at fever pitch and shouting that Joshua is King David’s son.

Then we see Simon Peter and Andrew coming towards us leading a young colt and the crowd goes mad. Grown men are tearing their cloaks off – someone has flung one over the donkey’s back and the surge in the crowd bundles Joshua on to its back, then others fling their cloaks on to the ground in front of the animal and they are actually worshipping him, some shouting out that he is God. This is insane. We shall have a riot on our hands as soon as we enter the Gate – that is if we are not met by Roman soldiers or the Temple Guard before we even reach the city wall.

I’m really frightened now. We’ve set off and there is nothing I can do but follow and pray. Joshua is riding ahead and the men and children are racing ahead making an arch over him with the palm leaves and picking up the cloaks strewn on the ground and slinging them again in front of the beast. It’s a wonder the animal hasn’t bolted with all the screaming and hullabaloo.

Joshua hasn’t done anything to stop them. Well, I suppose there’s little he could do now – the crowd wouldn’t take any notice of him. They’re too excited, totally carried away. Then I notice people are streaming out of the city and coming to join us. They’re singing and laughing too. The people around me are euphoric. I can hear the shouts. ‘The Messiah’s come!’ ‘Praise God, the Messiah’s here at last!” ’King David’s back to rescue us!’ I’m thrilled and scared at the same time. The adulation, the recognition is all I’ve sought for him, but the very violence of the welcome is out of control and I fear the consequences.

Where are the authorities? We go in through the Gate unopposed and the citizens of the city are flocking to us and join in the procession. Where are we going? I watch the bystanders carefully and notice that not everyone is sharing in the general celebration. There are a few men in rich robes I see muttering to themselves, but they seem unwilling to tackle the mob. They’ll wait for the crowd to disperse and then they’ll act. I find myself being even more concerned for my son. Doesn’t he realise that not all the crowd is so enthusiastic?

We reach the Temple and Joshua mounts the steps to address the crowd. There must be nigh on a thousand people now before us in the square, all cheering and shouting. I notice a few soldiers appearing and taking up positions on the edge of the crowd, but they stand there, weapons at the ready, and just watch.

Joshua holds up an arm and the crowd falls silent. His voice rings out.

“Citizens of Judea and Samaria, citizens of Jerusalem, God’s kingdom is here. If you love God and obey his commands, if you care for each other and act justly in all your dealings, you are already citizens of that glorious kingdom, a nation of peace where the lion shall lie down with the lamb and war shall be no more. You call me the Messiah. Even the stones shouted out as we passed by…” – the crowd erupts at this point and the cheering and screams of ‘Hosannah’ drown out his attempt to finish the sentence. For several minutes the uproar continues and his attempt to silence them so he can continue is thwarted.

Eventually he manages to say, “I come in peace to rescue your souls, not to overthrow the government,” but clearly many in the square do not believe him for the shouting and singing breaks out once again.

He resigns himself to allowing the crowd to continue their singing and cheering and comes down to mingle with them. At this the crowd surges round him and attempts to lift him to their shoulders. This carries on for a whole hour. The priests I saw earlier have disappeared. The soldiers are making no attempt to intervene, but they are watching closely. I’m sure they’re noting who the mob’s leaders are and are biding their time. They’ll be reporting back to the Roman Governor and to the Tetrarch, Herod Antipas, tonight, I’m sure of it.

Then word goes round that Joshua intends to return to Bethany before darkness falls and the crowd begins to calm down. There is still singing, but it is more tuneful, less lusty and the crowd begins to become more good-humoured, linking arms, perhaps relieved in their heart of hearts that they’ve not provoked retribution from the soldiers. The crowd begins to disperse and some of the families who’ve come with us are beginning to make their way back to the Gate and the Jericho road. Then I see Joshua escaping from the adoring group straining to listen to him and he comes right over to me.

“Mother, it’s time we went back to Bethany. Are you not tired? We’ll come in again tomorrow. You’ll see, the numbers will drop off and it will be more manageable. There are serious messages I want to get across to the citizens here and I need a little more privacy and a chance to speak without all this noise.”

James comes too. “Well at least we’re still here and unscathed. But they’re watching. We won’t get away with it for long. Let’s get back to Lazarus and Martha and get a good night’s rest. If you’re intent on coming in again tomorrow, you need to get some rest.”

He’s right, at least on this occasion. I do need to rest, but we’ve a good couple of hours’ walk first. At least it’s downhill nearly all the way.
When we get back to Bethany, Joshua tells me he’s been talking to many of the families that accompanied us today.

“I’ve suggested to them that they stay at home tomorrow – or at least the women and children. I need to start confronting the authorities there and it could put some of our followers in danger. I need space to get down to the serious part of my message too – I can’t do that if I’m surrounded by hundreds of people wherever I go. I need to get my message to new people in the city. We’ll go in tomorrow morning – we’ll set off early to give a longer time in the city. Do you want to stay here with Martha and Lazarus?”

“No, “ I say. “I’m coming too.”