The Madonna and the Political Prisoner, Chapter 26
By David Maidment
- 407 reads
Chapter 26 AD 26
What a miserable Sabbath we’ve just celebrated! We’ve all be crowded into this one room. No-one has felt like eating anything, although a couple of the disciples’ wives cooked something earlier to eat on the Sabbath. Many of the men are petrified that the Temple Guards will come for them next. They’re all ashamed that they fled when Joshua was arrested and did nothing to try to protect him. Simon Peter is especially upset although he won’t say why. I suppose it was that Joshua seemed to look to him to be leader of the disciples and he feels he should have done more. I tried to comfort him, but he hinted that there was something far worse he’d done and was too ashamed to tell me about.
Then the man we’d seen at the crucifixion, who’d taken Joshua’s body to his own grave, arrived and we discovered that he owned the house we are in. And he was as miserable as the rest of us, he kept blaming himself for what had happened although I’ve no idea why. Then Simon Peter said it was all his fault and others joined in – they seemed to be having a competition on who could accept most blame. It was not very helpful.
Mary spent the day in tears. I was just so weary, I felt drained as though I’d no fight left in me. Tears should have come to me too, but I felt numb, cold, depressed. I felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment, I suppose, somehow I’d assumed God would intervene even at the last moment and fulfil his promise that my son was the Messiah. What am I to believe now? That my whole life thus far has been a huge delusion, a fraud, that I’ve convinced myself only of my own wishes and missed God’s will entirely?
The day dragged on forever and all our minds were mired in pointless recriminations and black negativity. At one stage some of the disciples vented their frustration on their absent member, Judas, whom some seemed to think had betrayed Joshua to the Temple Guards. Others could think of no reason why he would and thought that perhaps he’d been arrested too. He’d disappeared anyway and a couple thought he might be imprisoned still.
John and his brother ventured out at one stage and went to the Temple and brought back a few people who’d been searching for Joshua and were unaware that he’d been killed. They were upset then of course and we went through everything that had happened all over again for their benefit. At first light this morning, now we’re free of the Sabbath restrictions, most of them set off back to their own villages. They didn’t feel like staying in the city to celebrate the rest of the festival as their hearts were now not in it.
Last night the owner of this house, Joseph, showed us some of the herbs and spices he owned and offered them to us to take and use on the body of Joshua. Some of the women said they’d go, Mary among them. I was in two minds at first. I’m not sure I can bear seeing my son lying there, cold, his body bearing the signs of the torture he’s undergone. But Mary has persuaded me. Salome has said she’ll come too. Joseph offered to come, but I think was hesitant at being alone with a group of women he hardly knew. I thought Simon Peter and John might have come too, but after the sleepless nights we’ve had they were both slumbering deeply at dawn and we decided we wanted to go before many people were about.
There are four of us. Salome, Mary and the mother of the other disciple called James, yet another Mary. Joseph has told us exactly where to go and we progress through the nearly empty streets unhindered. After the storms of the last two days, the sky is clear and almost translucent, a tinge of pink from the rising sun. As we reach the garden where Joseph said we could find the tomb, the same thought hits all of us at the same time. The tombstone will be too heavy for us to roll away to gain entrance. How stupid of us not to think of this! We should have accepted Joseph’s offer to accompany us. But it’s my sister who points out that Joseph said that there would be guards at the tomb and we could ask them to help. Of course, I’d forgotten that. I remember Joseph telling us now. He’d know that we could get help. We expected therefore to see the guards first, but I was surprised that they were not obvious. Perhaps they had hidden themselves away, but I can’t think why.
Then we see it. Instead of the tombstone, there’s a great gaping hole in the rock-face. Someone’s been at the grave already. His body has been removed, the authorities have not allowed his body to remain within the city walls after all. This is awful, how will we know where to find him? Mary bursts into tears when she sees this and we all stop in our tracks. Then I go forward. What are they fearful about? I’m going to make sure. I stoop and enter the darkened tomb. It’s difficult to see in here. I can just make out a ledge against the far wall, where his body ought to be, but I can’t see anything. I grope forward and find there is cloth on the cold stone. I feel it. The cloth is folded, it’s like the cloth that we wrapped his body on when it was taken down for us from the scaffold. I’m puzzled. If his body has been moved, why has someone taken the trouble of stripping the body and folding the cloth? You’d have thought that either graverobbers or soldiers would have taken the cloth as well as the body, it must be of some value. I go back outside and find the others talking to two young men I’d not noticed before. They are asking them where Joshua’s body has been taken. Poor Mary Magdalene is distraught. Salome and the other Mary are looking incredulous.
“It’s empty, his body’s gone!” I shout as I emerge from the tomb. The others don’t seem to take any notice of me. They’re still talking to these two men. Perhaps they know what’s happened.
“Mari, listen! These men are saying that Joshua isn’t here…”
“That’s obvious,” I interrupt. “I just told you.”
“No, they’re saying he’s alive. That he’s come back to life.”
“You misheard,” I say, “what do these men know? Who are they?”
“Mariam, are you the Rabbi’s mother?”
How do they know that?
“You mean the mother of Joshua, the prophet from Nazareth?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then we have a message for you from your son. You won’t find him here. He’s not dead but more alive than ever! Go and tell his friends and followers. He’ll confirm it with you all later.”
My mind is reeling. Am I hallucinating? Is it wishful thinking, is my mind playing me tricks?
“Are you telling us the truth? You’re not making fun of us, are you? Who are you? How do you know?”
They are saying nothing more. I suppose it could be true. I’ve watched Joshua bringing others back to life – that widow’s son in Nain, our friend Lazarus. If he could do that, could he actually restore himself to life? But he was dead, I know he was. How could he heal himself if he was dead? It’s too much to take in. Salome is gaping open-mouthed. Mary is itching to get back to tell the others. Mary Magdalene has disappeared, I don’t know where she’s gone. The men have gone too. I was just about to ask them another question to be sure, then I saw them hurrying away. Perhaps they’ve gone to search for Mary. I can hardly believe what has happened. Already the doubts are creeping in.
“Salome, tell me I didn’t imagine that. That they said Joshua was still alive. Did they? Did they really say that? It was not a trick? That would be too cruel.”
“Sister, that’s what they said. They said he’d prove it to us and his friends. We must go back and tell the others.”
Of course. You’d think I’d be euphoric now, but it hasn’t really sunk in. I’ve heard the words but really? Joshua is really alive after all that was done to him? He was dead, I know he was. He can’t just have been unconscious. The Centurian made sure of that. He’d be in trouble if he let any condemned man escape.
“Come on, Mari, what are you waiting for? Let’s go and tell everyone.”
“Where’s Mary? We’ve got to find her.”
“She wandered off convinced that his body had been abducted. The men tried to tell her that it wasn’t true but she was so upset, I don’t think she heard them. She knows where we are staying. She’ll come home when she realises we’ve gone.”
So the three of us hurry home. There’s a spring in our step now despite our tiredness. I’m beginning to hope despite the unlikelihood of what we’ve just been told. I still worry that it’s a trick, that some cruel men who saw us at the crucifixion have decided to jest with us and laugh at our credulity.
Salome and Mary are up the steps to the room on the top floor two at a time – I can’t manage that, but I’m not far behind. We bang on the door and I hear movement. The door opens a margin and a face peers at us. They think we’re soldiers come to arrest them.
“It’s the women! They’re back already. What’s the matter? You all look exhausted!”
“He’s not in the tomb. We saw some men there who said he’s alive.”
Others crowd round us now. Everyone starts talking at once. They make us repeat what the men had said.
“You misunderstood. You heard what you wanted to hear. It can’t be true.” Simon Peter is voicing everyone’s thoughts.
“He said he’d rise again,” says John with a sudden burst of insight. “We didn’t understand, but he did say it. Peter, let’s go and see for ourselves.”
John rises and moves rapidly towards the door.
“Alright, John. Hang on, I’m coming too.” A couple of other disciples get up to follow, but Peter and John are already through the door.
“Come on, Mother, sit down and calm yourself. I don’t know what you and the other women are babbling about. Your imagination has taken over. It’s crazy. You’re all going mad. Even Salome now.” James is trying to throw cold water over our experience. His usual scepticism has full rein now. “Mother, answer me this. Did you actually see Joshua?”
“Well, no. But we saw the empty tomb, I saw folded graveclothes and I heard the men tell us that he was risen.”
“Who do you think these men were? They were making fun of you. Of course it’s untrue. It’s a hideous joke. You need to get away from here as soon as possible.”
Everyone is gathering round arguing. Most don’t believe us, though a couple of the disciples agree with John and confirm that he talked of rising again although they didn’t take him literally at the time.
“Where’s Mary?”
“She disappeared while we were talking to the men at the tomb. We ought to go and look for her. She was in as pretty dreadful state and I don’t know what she might do if she’s left on her own.” Salome is concerned and I am too.
“Let’s go and search for her, Salome. You’re right. She needs close watching at the moment.”
“I’ll come with you.” It’s Thomas, who volunteers to accompany us. We hurry back to the garden where we last saw Mary. Just as we arrive, we meet Simon Peter and John.
“You were right,” they chorus. “We met the same men – well, I presume they were the same ones. They said Yeshua wasn’t there. They even said ’Why are you searching for the living among the dead?’ Then they told us to go back and he’d find us. What are you doing back here?”
“We’re looking for Mary,” says Thomas. “Have you seen any sign of her?”
“No, she isn’t here. We didn’t see her on the way either.”
“You go back and tell the others what you’ve been told. We’ll continue to look for Mary. We can’t leave her to wander alone round the city in the state she was in.”
Simon Peter and John hurry away and we continue our search. If she’s not in the garden here, goodness knows where we can look for her. The garden is quite big and covered with shrubs and olive trees so we decide to have another look in the garden before searching nearby lanes. And there she is, crouching behind a large bush, weeping copiously. I rush up to her.
“Mary, cheer up. Stop weeping. Haven’t you heard that we’ve been told that he’s still alive? Peter and John saw the same men as told us. Don’t be so sad.”
“I’m not! I’m just overwhelmed. It’s true. He is alive. I’ve seen him!”
“You’ve what? You’ve seen him? Are you sure? Was it really him?”
“I didn’t think so at first. I just saw a man, I assumed he was the gardener here, my vision was too blurred from so much crying. Then he spoke to me. I’d recognise that voice anywhere. It was him, it really was.”
“Are you sure, Mary? After all, you said your vision was blurred. Could you have been mistaken?”
“I’m sure. He just said ‘Mary’ like he always does, half affectionate, half exasperated like when I fail to understand something he’s just said.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. He stayed with me a moment or two and then I just looked up and he wasn’t there any more!”
“Mary, are you sure you saw him? It sounds to me as though you just imagined him. You saw what you wanted to see. The man could have been the gardener, you know.”
“It was Yeshua. I know it was.”
“What now? Will you come back with us?”
And so we make our way back to Joseph’s house, hope within our hearts. It seems too good to be true, but if Mary has really seen him…
When we get back, we find the door unlocked. We are scarce inside the door when everyone pounces on us.
“He is alive. He’s been here. We’ve all seen him. The door was locked and suddenly he was right in the middle of us. At first we were really frightened. We thought he was a ghost. Then he asked us for something to eat and had a piece of bread right in front of us. Ghosts don’t eat solid food, do they?”
At least I can really believe. Lots of them have seen him.
“You’re all hysterical,” cries Thomas. “I’ll not believe until I see him myself, and make him prove that he’s our Master and not some joker playing tricks upon us.”
We’re all excited and talking at once. All day we prattle on, talking about everything that has happened, trying to make sense of it all. Someone goes out to buy some food, but we’re still not hungry, we’re too excited now. Darkness falls before we even think about cooking a meal and we’re finally just about to eat when the door bursts open once more. One or two look up in alarm, but it’s only a couple we saw earlier in the day who left to go to their home village.
They’re exhausted, but they shout out, “We’ve seen him. We’ve seen the Master. He joined us on the road home and recounted all the scriptures and prophecies and how they’d all come true. We asked him in to stay – we hadn’t recognised him, then as we ate together, it dawned on us who he was. You know how it is, we hadn’t expected to see him, we thought he was dead, so we didn’t dream it was him, then it was the way he broke and blessed the bread. We couldn’t wait, we had to come all the way back to tell you.”
“We’ve seen him too! Just a few hours ago he was here with us in this room.” Simon Peter explains to the couple from the distant village, heaven knows how far they’ve run to get back to us so soon.
Then, as everyone is rejoicing, James comes up to me, and puts his arm round me.
“Mother, I’ve seen him too. It really was him. He spoke specially to me. After all this time! All the time I’ve never believed either you or him! I’m sorry, Mother, please forgive me. I’ll have to tell everyone how wrong I’ve been.”
And I suddenly realise nearly everyone’s seen him, except me!
- Log in to post comments