The Madonna and the Political Prisoner Chapter 2/1

Note:
A large number of characters are introduced in this chapter. To simplify for the reader, the final book will include the family trees of both Mari and husband Joseph with their seven children (the sons named in Matthews Gospel chapter 13, verses 55 and 56) and a ‘cast list’ of biblical characters, fictional characters from the previous two novels in the series and new fictional characters introduced in this novel.

This chapter 2 has many of the characters greeting Mari, Joseph and Joshua on their return from Jerusalem – a gathering of the extended family which would have been common with large families staying in their native birthplaces – and was common in the UK in the decades up to the Second World War.

There are two key family groups – Mari, her now married siblings, sisters Salome and Rebecca and brother Benjamin and their families and the family of Mari’s Pharisee Uncle, Eli, especially his son, Clopas, wife Miriam and their two sons and his daughter Susannah and husband Joshua living in Nain, about 5 miles from Nazareth.

Confusion further exists as so many of these villagers shared the same name.

Chapter 2 AD 5

There’s huge relief when we arrive home. Susannah and her husband Joshua had reported our problems on their return some five days ago and when my mother spots that we have our Joshua with us, she calls my sisters, and they both dash out to meet us, their children trailing behind them. Salome embraces me.

“Mari, Mari, you’re home. You’ve made it safely. You found Joshua then?”

Salome lives in Nain now – she moved there when she married nearly seven years ago, but she came with her three children to be with our mother while we were away. My own daughter - called Salome after her when we were in Egypt and I feared I’d not see her again - went to help look after Susannah’s youngest, when her husband persuaded her to go up to the Passover festival. It must be the first time since she accompanied me on that pilgrimage thirteen years ago when I was pregnant with Joshua. Salome’s only nine but she thinks that she’s capable of looking after her sister Ruth, who’s six, so she went with her and said she could manage Susannah’s Sarah and Ruth together. I’m sure she’s been fine and anyway Susannah’s mother-in-law was on hand if there were any problems. That lady's been keeping an eye on the other children anyway – the three boys think they need no nursemaid, but someone has to watch they don’t get into mischief and I can’t think of a better person for doing that than Susannah’s mother-in-law!

It’s all been a bit chaotic, with everyone mucking in. That’s the advantage of so many of our family still living in the village or nearby. My other sister, Rebecca, is furthest away, although Kana is but a couple of hours’ walk or so distant. My brother Benjamin still lives in Nazareth, though he moved out of the family home when he got married to Rachel. Scarcely has my sister hugged me when Ben arrives alone – his wife is nursing his firstborn son, who is barely three months old and he’s left them back at his home.

My own children are pleased to see me of course. They’re a bit of a handful for my mother, even with their Aunt Salome present, as she has her own three to care for, so Clopas’s wife, Miriam, has brought the rest of my brood – James, Joseph, and the twins Simon and Judas – back to the family home that she and Clopas inherited from old Eli when he died many years ago.

When Susannah first returned and explained why the rest of us had gone back to Jerusalem, everyone had come to Nazareth to await further news. So here we all are. My mother is first to reassure herself that all is well. My children are all scrambling for my attention and all talking at once. I doubt if anyone worried them by speaking of their missing brother in their hearing. We’ve all come to Clopas’s courtyard. If everyone were to stop still for a moment, I could count them – there must be over thirty of us. After the general relief that we have in fact got home and Joshua is with us, unhurt, and everyone has embraced us, I stop and look round.
No wonder it’s chaotic, all crammed into the little courtyard.

I don’t get much of a chance to tell my mother what really happened. I go to speak to her but Ruth wants my attention, then the twins are fighting over something and I have to sort them out.

“Mother,” I call to her in between separating Simon and Judas, “I promise I’ll tell you everything tomorrow when we’re all back at our own homes and in our normal routines. My boys will all be at school in the synagogue in the morning and Salome can take Ruth down to the well to get our water, so I can explain everything to you then.”

In the meantime, we need to eat something before we go back and prepare the evening meal. Miriam comes out with some bread and a few figs and we all sit around in the shade of her house which is on the west side of the courtyard. She and Clopas now live in what used to be Eli’s rooms, their eldest has my old home with his wife and their sons and his other son and his wife and three year old daughter are squashed into my old grandmother’s room. If they get any more children they’ll need to look for new accommodation. Luckily Clopas has land on which they could build a small home. Then the growing family can spread out a little.

We moved into a home of our own several years ago when Joseph had built up enough trade again to need a workshop. Eventually the carpenter he’d been assisting since moving back from Bethlehem retired and, with a very generous loan from Clopas, we purchased his house and yard when he moved back into the home of his daughter who lived in the nearby city of Sepphoris. We have enough room now to accommodate my mother as well as our own children, though it will be a squash when they get a bit older and need their own space.

My children soon finish the snacks that Miriam has provided and I can see that they’re eager to get home. Ruth has been happily playing with Sarah, Salome still revelling in her supervisory role, but all the younger boys are getting fractious. Joshua is trying to amuse the twins, but James and Joseph are pestering my husband who is tired and is looking for an excuse to make our exit. Once I’ve reassured my mother, Anna, that I’ll put her fully in the picture tomorrow, we get on our way, with my sister Salome promising to drop her off on her way back to Nain before sunset.

Our house and workshop is just the other side of the centre of the village near the clearing where a small market is occasionally held in preparation for Passover, or at the grape harvest season. Behind the workshop is a tiny yard where Joseph can keep his stack of wood and larger finished articles awaiting collection. We have a few chickens and geese. We don’t have any sheep or goats as Joseph can maintain us through his labour, but Salome takes Clopas’s sheep to pasture every day, just as I used to do for Eli.

Clopas has been very good to us. When Eli died, he took over all his responsibilities and made sure my widowed mother did not want for anything until Ben was old enough to care for her. During the day my boys will be at the synagogue school, so I just have Ruth and my mother to watch over and these days the little girl prefers to accompany her older sister and the sheep. This leaves me free to fetch water, listen to the gossip, and prepare our meals, with Mother resting or giving me advice. I don’t actually need it any longer – I’ve brought up seven children successfully so far and despite the problems we had when Joshua and James were younger, we’ve survived.

But Mother needs to feel useful. She’s crippled with arthritis now and hobbles around looking much older than her forty odd years or so, but she can’t abide feeling useless. She’s always on at me asking what she can do. I keep telling her to relax, not to feel guilty. She’s done her duty. She’s had a rough life, married at barely fourteen, abandoned by my father when he joined a Zealot band before I was two years old and widowed ten years later. She was sheltered and supported by Eli but made, I think, to feel her obligation to him.

Clopas, his son, is not like Eli at all. He is generous in his bounty and doesn’t expect to be constantly thanked for his generosity. He’s a good farmer too. He’s able to harvest a surplus every year and sell it on, using the profits to buy homes or give loans for that purpose to Mother and Ben as well as his own sons, and pay the brideprice for the weddings of my sisters as well as his own daughter, Mo. I shall always be grateful to Clopas, for I know now how much he interceded for me with his father when I was under threats following my first pregnancy that so offended the authorities. I used to think he was critical of me as well, admittedly not outwardly hostile like his Pharisee father. Now I realise that he felt he could not openly oppose his father, but he spoke up for me more than once behind the scenes. I’m surprised that he has not followed his father in becoming a rabbi or scribe at the synagogue, but that has never interested him. I think he found his father’s strict adherence to the rabbinical law too intolerant and alien to his more empathetic approach and sought to temper his father’s actions and words with a softer edge whenever he could without undermining him in any public humiliating way.

I don’t think he’s inherited his father’s hatred of the Roman occupation either. He accepts it as something he can’t alter and makes the best of it. Obviously he is heavily taxed and grumbles like the rest of them, but I don’t think his heart’s in it. I’m sure he doesn’t fund the Zealots like Eli used to – surreptitiously of course. I think there was a bit of a row at first with one of the Zealot bands that actually threatened him. I don’t know this first hand because we were in Egypt when Eli died and his aid to the local rebel group came to an end. But there’s not much action nowadays. The Romans gave help to Herod Antipas when he inherited Galilee from his father and were active in pushing any nationalist rebels to the other side of Genneseret, beyond the mountains in the north and the far side of the Jordan. The garrisons were strengthened after the older Herod’s death to deter his sons from plotting against each other and gaining too much strength. The Romans trusted old Herod – more than we did anyway – but his sons are weaker and the Romans didn’t want the rebels to think they could use that weakness to combine against the Emperor. I heard talk when we were in Jerusalem that there had been an uprising by a leader called Simon the Zealot, but the Roman army had been quick to snuff it out.

Joseph takes an interest in these things and keeps me informed as he believes we need to keep our ear to the ground in case there are any potential dangers to Joshua, should any rumours gain credibility of a possible Messianic claim. It’s quiet here, though, and as safe as I think it can be. The only danger I perceive at present is if our Joshua’s performance in the Temple gains wider publicity and someone talks about a child prodigy and links him with the deceased Herod’s fears. I don’t think our identity was made anything of by the rabbis who talked to us in Jerusalem unless they asked Joshua questions about his family and history before we arrived. He could have talked about our exile in Egypt, but I don’t think he’d have mentioned Bethlehem and we’ve always been careful not to let him learn about Herod’s massacre of the children there. We never wanted him to feel any guilt about that.

He’s a good lad is our Joshua. I know Joseph thinks him amiss in causing us so much heartache in Jerusalem, but I still think it was mainly our fault. Look at him now. There aren’t many twelve year old boys who help so much around the house. He’s wonderful with the younger children, just like I used to be, so my mother keeps telling me, but I was a girl and it was expected of me. He can get the twins to do nearly anything he likes and both his sisters adore him. Only James seems sometimes to cross him and likes to tease or annoy him. James is much more like other boys of his age, boisterous and mischievous. I think he believes Joshua is too much of a kill-joy. It’s rot of course, Joshua likes his fun and has a good sense of humour, but James can be quite cutting and I’ve had to reprimand him on occasions for bullying the younger children. Joseph – I normally call him Joe to differentiate him from his father - looks up to James and is closer to him than he is to Joshua. I don’t think Joe is as bright as either Joshua or James – even the twins seem to me every bit as advanced as he is. Joshua tries to explain the things the rabbis teach, but Joe is not very good at listening and he is easily distracted by James who seems to find it funny to lead him astray.

We’re home now and Joseph has taken the boys into his workshop to show them some of the things he’s made which are waiting collection while Salome helps me prepare the evening meal. He seems to have recovered a little – I was quite worried earlier, he looked so tired. We’re just ready when Susannah brings my mother in.

“Mari, let me help you. What can I do?” She fusses immediately round me, picking things up and putting them down again.

“Mother, for goodness sake, sit down and rest. There’s little more to do. Just wait a few minutes, Salome and I’ve got everything under control.” Well, all except Mother. Despite her affliction that causes her so much pain, she hates doing nothing.

“Ruth, go and sing to your grandmother!” At least that keeps them both out of my way until the meal is ready.

Afterwards, as I’m cleaning the pans and dishes, and getting the younger children to be quiet and roll out their mattresses, I hear Joseph telling Joshua to walk out with him for a few minutes. I guess he’s going to reprimand the boy now. I hope he won’t be too severe with him. I catch Joseph’s eye and cast him a meaningful wink. I think he gets my gist.

When they come back a few minutes later, I look to see if Joshua is upset. I don’t think so. At least he says nothing and doesn’t try to avoid my eye. He takes Joe under his wing – the twins and Ruth are already on their bedrolls and look to be asleep – probably pretending. He’s telling Joe about the sights he’s seen in Jerusalem and Salome joins them, eager to miss nothing. James doesn’t seem that bothered.

“I’ll be going up to the Passover next year, won’t I, Mother? Then I’ll see it all for myself. There’s no need for Joshua to tell me.”

“That’s alright, James. He’s not forcing you to listen. I just thought you’d be interested.”

James goes outside and I hear him calling to one of his other friends. If he wants, he can stay out a short while until Joe and Salome are settled, then I’ll get the two older boys to go up onto the roof if they want as it’s now warm enough and will give us a bit more room inside.

Joseph comes back from his workshop. He looks grey in this light and I’m anxious. He was getting breathless in Jerusalem, but I thought it was the tension then, fearing Joshua was lost. When everyone is settled, I whisper to him, hoping no-one else can hear – least of all my mother, because she’ll only worry and there’s nothing she can do about it.

“Joseph, are you alright? You look all in.”

“Stop fussing Mari. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“You’ve not had any more of the pains you had in Jerusalem?”

“It’s nothing Mari, it really isn’t. I’ve just been carrying a fair amount of baggage so it’s no surprise that I’m getting twinges from one or two muscles I don’t normally use.”

I’m not convinced by this. He does plenty of lifting and carrying in his work, so he should not be troubled by a tent and a few extra changes of clothes. But he’s not going to admit anything further. Perhaps he’s trying to stop me worrying. All his reluctance to admit any problem just has me worrying the more. Well, I might as well accept it. That’s Joseph and I’m unlikely to change him now. I lie there still listening to him. I think I hear a slight groan at one point and I’m wide awake, tense, straining to hear his breathing. I slowly relax and at last I hear him snore, softly at first and then louder, uneven, with an occasional sudden disturbance, then it begins rhythmically again. I begin to relax myself and in the end fall asleep.