The Madonna and the Political Prisoner, Chapter 6

Chapter 6 Elizabeth, AD 13

Let me introduce myself - you’ll have seen reference to me earlier, but I’ve been asked to look after my cousin Mari’s son, Joshua, for a few weeks. My name is Elizabeth. I live in Ein-Karem, a small town about ten miles north of Jerusalem. My husband, Zechariah, was a senior rabbi in the Jerusalem Temple but unfortunately he died over eighteen years ago. But I’ve not been alone. I conceived a child after I’d almost given up hope, and John, my son, has been a great comfort to me ever since. He’s a strong young man now in the prime of life, twenty years old. I know he has a special mission in life. When we prayed for a son after years of frustration, he was promised to me to alert the nation to the coming of the Messiah. I keep wondering when his time will come, but he’s said he’ll not leave me while I have need of him. And now his cousin, Joshua, has come to stay with us. And he is the one who is to be that chosen person. I’m sure this time will be of great importance.

John joined the group from Nazareth for the Passover. Clopas and his sons and Mari’s boys had the Passover meal here with us and then they all went into the city each day to celebrate the festival - all apart from me for I’m too old for walking far now. I’ve reached my allotted ‘three score years and ten’. I’ve been so blessed to have such a son and I’d just like to live long enough to see him fulfil his call, and Joshua too, but perhaps that’s too much to ask. I have a feeling that John is waiting until I’m no more. He’s never said as much, but he knows I’m frail and I’d struggle if he left me on my own for too long.

When they all arrived here the first night Joshua asked me if he might stay a while. I was delighted and asked him to remain with us as long as he was able. He and John really need to get to know one another properly, as they’ve only met briefly during previous Passover gatherings when there has been so much to do and see. Everyone’s gone back to Nazareth now apart from Joshua. They told me all the news as soon as they got here, I knew James was married and I was hoping to meet his bride but she’s not come this time. The big news was Salome’s wedding. We’d been invited, but I couldn’t possibly go that far now and John wouldn’t leave me. I said that my neighbour would keep an eye on me, but John said it would have been too long - nearly three weeks with the week long celebrations and the journey either way. And it’s not safe, they tell me, on either route to Galilee if you’re not in a large guarded party. They say there are terrorist groups in the mountains between the Samaria road and the Jordan as well as the local brigands and thieves. We don’t see much of the Roman soldiers on these roads unless it’s at festival time.

Joshua’s a fine young man. He’s more thoughtful than John. My son can be very blunt and sometimes speaks first and thinks later. He’s been under the influence of a group called the Nazarites. They’ve persuaded him to go on special diet and not to cut his hair. Goodness knows why, it makes him look very dishevelled and I often tell him to tidy himself up. He just laughs at me. He’s promised to take Joshua to meet some of those he knows. I hope he isn’t persuaded to do the same. Underneath John is a gentle giant but he looks awesome and I think he frightens some of my neighbours a bit. He teases the children and they run screaming from him, but I think it’s a joke and they like the excitement of the chase. They ruffle his hair up and he pretends to be a wild animal, a lion or a wolf. I thought Joshua was a bit serious at first but he joins in the games with the local children as well and makes them laugh too. But he does it more by telling them stories. He’s really good at it, I don’t know where he gets all his tales from. I know some are the stories from our scriptures, the escapades of Isaac and Moses and King David, but often he tells them stories he’s made up about life in his village and on the neighbouring farms.

They’re both in the city today. John helps in the Temple assisting the scribes and those administering the rituals there. He receives a small income from the priests and brings me money regularly as the Temple authorities maintain all the widows of those who’ve been employed there as scribes or rabbis. My husband was revered in his day as a very wise counsellor and when he died they suffered a great loss that the other priests told me was hard to fill. I’m not sure quite what they make of John. He’s hardworking so I’m sure they have no qualms on that score, but he can be argumentative and outspoken and I’ve heard it said that some of him consider him intemperate and undisciplined. Apparently he’s too inclined to criticise if he sees anything he thinks wrong. He doesn’t wait for any explanations or excuses but comes straight out with it. I don’t think that endears him to many and I’ve often advised him to hold his tongue. He might take more notice of Joshua if he gives him similar advice!

When he comes home, he’ll often be all indignant at something he’s seen, some priest being pious one minute and then speaking ill of some poor soul behind her back; or when he sees
some trader in the Temple Outer Court overcharging one of the pilgrims, especially if it’s someone who can ill afford to purchase the obligatory sacrifice. I used to think that he would be a priest like his father. We are both from priestly tribes and what better way to prepare everyone for the coming of the Messiah than to proclaim it from the Temple itself, I thought, but I don’t think John wants to take that route. He’s lost respect for many of those who officiate there. There are just one or two teachers of whom he’s fond and those are the ones he assists and learns from.

I must get back to preparing our evening meal. The sun is sinking and the men will want to be home before nightfall. It’s difficult to decide sometimes what to get for John since he’s taken up with the Nazarites, as they won’t eat meat or drink wine. I milked the goat earlier and there is sufficient for John, but I think Joshua will have a cup of wine with me. I have bread and some figs and grapes, but for some reason John won’t eat grapes either. I’m not sure why that prohibition exists, it’s not that he doesn’t like them. He used to eat plenty. He’s associated himself with the men who’ve taken a vow to separate themselves and purify themselves from sin. They come to the Temple to make offerings as part of their vows, I think. John’s attracted to their austerity and their repudiation of the corruption he sees around him. I don’t really understand all he tells me. He talks about Samson and Samuel a lot, but I’m not sure what they have to do with the coming of the Messiah. The rabbis used to talk about the prophet Elijah being the forerunner of the Messiah, but I haven’t heard John mention him.

Ah, that’s the pair of them arriving now. They’ll be hungry and dirty from the road, I’ve no doubt. I’d better pour out some water – they’ll need to wash their feet.

“Cousin Elizabeth, we’ll do that. We can bend better than you!”

Joshua fetches the jar over and pours some into a basin. He slips his sandals off and looks round for a cloth. John goes into the adjacent room and brings back a clean piece of rag he’s found.

“Sit down, Joshua, and let me do it.”

“Alright, but I’ll freshen your feet afterwards.”

The deeds done, Joshua looks at me.

“Come on and rest, Aunt. I would imagine you’ve been on your feet most of the day. Let your feet soak a while.”

I try to protest, but the two young men laugh and both take an arm and give me little option but to accede to their suggestion. Joshua gently washes my feet – I must admit it feels good after a hot and tiring day. Then John grabs the towel from Joshua and dries them. They’re both still laughing.

Eventually they let me go and I serve the food I’ve prepared for them. I’ve guessed right. Joshua is not averse to a cup of wine or a handful of grapes.

“Sinner!” cries John, trying playfully to grab the goblet from Joshua’s clasp.

”Careful, boys, you’ll spill it and that’d be a waste of good wine.”

They settle down and eat the bread and figs. I’ve not got any meat because of John. I know Joshua is used to fresh fish which traders bring to the markets in Tiberias and Sepphoris but we can only get dried fish here as we’re too far from a source. An occasional catch is brought into Jerusalem from the coast, but it won’t keep in the warm seasons and John is happy to let me buy local produce from the farmers here. It’s getting dark now and I light the torches and place them in the brackets on the wall. Our shadows flicker on the rough stonework and the men begin to discuss what they’ve been doing during the day. I leave the discarded platters lying and listen, for Joshua is able to challenge and question John in a way I could never do, and I find it refreshing.

“What did you make of Malachi?” John lies back and looks quizzically at Joshua.

“An interesting man. I’m not sure I agreed with everything he said, but he raised some good points, issues I need to think about.” Joshua looks at me. “This man, I thought he was a priest at first, came to the Temple and we heard him disputing with some of the teachers and rabbis there. We overheard some of the conversation – they were quite heated at one point – so we attached ourselves to the group and listened. We followed the man – his name was Malachi – and talked to him at length. He was one of the Essenes, they are in many cities, but this man came from a big settlement out at Ein-Gedi in the desert hills between Jericho and the Salt Sea.”

“I’ve heard John talk about the Essenes sometimes. Are they the same as the Nazarites you often talk about? They seem to be very critical of some of the ways the priests run the Temple.”

“With good reason, Mother. Both groups criticise the priests, but they’re not the same. Some of the things the priests do are disgraceful. Some are corrupt. They line their own pockets at the expense of some of the poorest and most vulnerable people. They pick on the most ignorant and bamboozle them in the name of religion.”

“Don’t the Chief Priest and the senior rabbis stop these excesses?”

“Joshua, I’ve told you before. They’re some of the worst offenders. They’ve got no interest in stopping the corruption. They get a good income from the fees and profits of those who exploit their permission to trade around the precincts. These Essenes repudiate such things and hold themselves apart from such a travesty of our religion.”

“But what do they do to stop it?”

“Well, you heard the argument today. They show by example how life should be lived. They believe that only by being pure in deed and spirit are they entitled to criticise and advocate a better way.”

“That’s all very well, but is shutting themselves away in isolation in the desert the best way to do the Lord God’s will?”

“I’m sure they have to start by protecting themselves against the evils of this world. They learn to discipline themselves, to purify their lives, to practice healing for themselves and for others. We need to hear their voice. This nation badly needs to hear their message of repentance and purity. We’ve become too contaminated by this world. The Temple priests have sought accommodation with the Romans and thereby compromised themselves and the purity of our faith.”

“That’s fine if their isolation is a temporary measure, a time of preparation before taking action to change things. But you can’t have much influence if you isolate yourself in the wilderness.”

“The Temple priests should go to see them for themselves instead of criticising them as being impractical idealists. When do they ever go out of their cocooned luxurious abode and see how the people live, or see this alternative lifestyle?”

“Well, you could turn that argument on its head. When do these Essenes mingle with ordinary folk and advocate their message? How do they know the pressures that most people experience, the struggle to maintain their families, feed their children? They even hold themselves free of family ties, so they do not experience life as lived by everyone else.”

“Well, what about us? Neither of us is married. Are you saying we cannot know what is right without being married and having a family? What about you? Do you intend to take a wife? Isn’t your family putting any pressure on you? Your brother and sister are married. They’re both younger than you. Is your celibacy a deliberate decision?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’ve plenty of experience of family life, after all I have six brothers and sisters and I’ve lived the last few years amid my cousins and their children. But I’m reluctant to commit a young woman to a partnership that might call her to hardships and seeming abandonment. I might be forced to decide between my commitment to God and to a wife. That would be very unfair. But I’m still open on the subject. What about you?”

“I’m sure I must not take a wife. I’ve argued with you many times, haven’t I, Mother?”

Indeed, he has. I’ve given up on this. I’d hoped by now to have a daughter-in-law and grandchildren. But I can see it’s not to be. Mari is lucky. Even if Joshua remains unmarried, she’s got her other children around her and it’s only a matter of time before the first grandchild arrives.

“I’ve taken a vow, Joshua. I’m tempted to do the same as Malachi and visit his community. They do not marry there. I intend to keep myself apart from the temptations of the flesh.”

“It’s not a point of principle with me, but one of practicality. One part of me envies my brother and would like nothing more than to settle down and raise a family of children. I love them, I’ve always enjoyed the company of children and believe I’d be a good father. But I’m uncertain of my true destiny at the moment. I’m sure I have to wait until I’m clearer.”

I interrupt. “You would be a good father, Joshua, I know you’re right about that. I’ve watched you with the village children here. Why are you so reluctant? The priests and rabbis all marry. Why is your call so different?” I’m on Mari’s side here. I think he’d make a marvellous family man. A woman who married him would indeed be a fortunate girl.

“I might, Elizabeth. I haven’t finally decided yet. But I don’t want to rule out all the options before I’m clear about my mission.”

“Joshua, would you be interested in coming with me to explore the Essene community and their style of life?”

John sees my glance, I can’t help displaying my anxiety which he picks up at once.

“Don’t worry, Mother. I’m only suggesting a short visit – I’m not intending to abandon you.”

He turns to Joshua again.

“What about it, cousin? Malachi said he’d be in Jerusalem for a few days. Why don’t we make contact and go back with him, just for a week or so. I’m sure we’ll see him again in the Temple. He’ll be back, he won’t resist further disputation with the rabbis. I think he was enjoying himself more than they were.”

“Maybe. If your mother can spare us for a short while. It would be interesting, to be sure. I’d like to make my own mind up by direct observation. I want to see if their lifestyle is as honest and pure as they say it is. I’d like to find out what influence, if any, they really have. How spiritual they really are.”

I’m a bit nervous about this. I do hope Joshua is as good as his word and does not fall under their spell as my John seems to have done with the Nazarites and now the Essenes. But he seems genuine in wanting to see for himself and test their ideas. There can be nothing wrong with that.

They both go into the city again the next day to search for Malachi, but assure me they’ll be home tonight and will ensure I’ve sufficient provisions to see me through the following week. In any case I can still get as far as the baker’s to buy bread if I take my time and I’ve got wine and water – John refilled my jars last night. I’m not at all convinced by this venture of theirs. I was promised that John would prepare the way for the Messiah, not hide himself in the desert. I’ll have to be patient though. There’s little I can do these days to change my son’s mind. He’s determined to foreswear the company of women and to seek this purity he yearns for. And I’ve heard that these Essenes are unpopular in Jerusalem. How will John get his message over when his time comes if he’s ostracised by the authorities as I’ve heard? Surely he’ll need all the support he can get? The influence of the two priests he assists seems to be weakening. If I were younger, I’d go to the Temple and ask their advice, but it’s too far now. I’d like to ask Joshua’s advice, but he spends all his time with John and they go into the city together. Perhaps I can find an excuse for him to stay with me one day.

They came back in good time. They found Malachi easily enough. He’s planning to spend the Sabbath in the Temple – John said that there’s no way that he’d consider travelling on the Sabbath for apparently one of his quarrels with the Temple authorities is their lax observation of that day. So they’ve agreed to set forth on the first day of the week, stay with our distant relatives in Bethany and complete the journey to the desert community the following day. They’ll only stay a couple of days – they promised me that. So we’ll see. I have no real confidence in that statement, because if it really attracts their interest, they’ll get caught up in it and be reluctant to tear themselves away. But Joshua gave me his promise. We’ll see.

* * * * * * * *

They did come back as they promised. They arrived late last night, weary after the climb up from the Salt Sea – they’d made it in one very long day, having set off before dawn. They were too exhausted to say much but just grabbed a crust of bread and some milk and were asleep before I could satisfy my curiosity. They both refilled my water jars first thing this morning – they won’t let me go now despite the odd looks they get. Well, to tell the truth, most women are used to John’s presence as he’s been fetching water for me most days for the last couple of years. You don’t see any women of my age at the well, their daughters or daughters-in-law and even granddaughters perform that ritual.

As we settle around the breakfast meal, I can contain myself no longer.

“Well, what did you find? Was it what you expected?”

“It was very impressive, Mother. It was a huge encampment with common living areas, dormitories and you should see their gardens! Right out there in the desert, they seem to have mastered the irrigation of their land. They’ve made ditches from the Jordan and storage basins for rain water. It doesn’t just supply the ground they use for crop cultivation, they have long communal baths used for both cleansing and their ritual purification ceremonies.”

“And what did you think of it, Joshua?”

“As John said, it was impressive. There’s no gainsaying that. They are totally self-sufficient. They need for nothing. And they are spiritual people. They certainly are different to the priests and rabbis at the Temple.”

“I can hear the ‘but’ in your voice, Joshua!”

“Come off it, Joshua,” says John. “You know you were amazed at what you found. Don’t be so negative.”

“I haven’t said anything against it yet.”

“But you were going to, weren’t you? See, you said ‘yet’.”

“Well, there were some very impressive things about the community. They are serious about sin and its consequences. They are an ascetic people; they live simply. And surprisingly, they are humble. They don’t boast about their spiritual and moral superiority, though they must be tempted sometimes.”

“But?”
“Well, I think they’re half right. They’ve preserved themselves from sin. They lead good lives, they don’t hurt or injure anyone else. They seem cheerful in their way. But they don’t exert much of a positive influence, do they? They abstain from doing wrong rather than doing what’s right.”

“There’s lot worse you can say of people.”

“Of course. I’m just saying I think they lack something. They’re too passive.”

“How can you say that when you hear them arguing with the Pharisees or Temple priests? Passive is the last thing they are. They’re revolutionary. They’d sweep all the Temple authorities away and install a simpler purer form of ritual and worship.”

“But it’s about ceremony and ritual, not about relationships and care for society.”

“On the contrary, they are extremely caring. They have no property – they share everything. No-one is poor among them.”

“I grant you, that is an admirable trait. But they just care for each other. They’re an inward looking community. They’ve isolated themselves from reality.”

“With all the wickedness in Jerusalem, don’t you think that’s a good thing?”

“As far as it goes, John. But what is their purpose? Are they just about maintaining their own purity and keeping themselves from the contamination of the world?”

“They do have gifts they share outside. They’re well acquainted with the mysteries of herbs and healing. They do not hold that back from others who seek their help.”

“I grant you that. But you have to go to them. And it’s a long and dangerous route to reach their settlement and if you’re ill or crippled, how would you make the journey?”

“You were very interested in their healing methods.”

“Yes, I was. As well as the herbs and ointments they use, I was impressed with their understanding of the mind, the power of suggestion and of prayer. Very often it seemed to me that the healing takes place without the need for medicine or physical treatment. I’m sure one can learn their methods. If I were to spend any time there, I think I’d make that my priority. But when I’d learned, I wouldn’t stay there. I’d want to take my understanding into the cities and villages where such skills are most needed.”

“But would you be able to exercise such skills in the hurly burly of the cities among people who wouldn’t have seen such healing and therefore be sceptical about its effectiveness?”

“Why not? Are you saying you can’t be close to God in the towns? That you can only develop spiritual powers in the desert places?”

“I don’t know, Joshua. I only think it would be much harder. I think I’d need constantly to return to the desert to build up my spiritual strength.”

“Elizabeth, it’s certainly peaceful and quiet out there. The water rituals are symbolic and calming. But it’s strange. There are no women or children. You do not hear footsteps in the sand. For a short time, yes, I liked it. But I wouldn’t want to commit myself to dedicating my life to a community in such an environment.”

We stir ourselves and attend to a few necessities before it gets too hot. Then later under the shade of our home sitting in the yard watching the hens and goats scavenging, we sit and Joshua and I share a draught of wine, while John partakes of goat’s milk.

“They believe in the coming of the Messiah,” says John, giving Joshua a meaningful look. “You could do worse than spend more time with them. I know some are scholars who are copying out the scriptures, but they believe they are getting ready for the Messiah’s coming by purifying themselves in readiness.”

“They are certainly very disciplined. I’m not sure though how worthy it is to be such a slave to rules. Do they know why many of their rules exist? What their purpose is?”

“The virtue is in the discipline. They learn self-control, to be masters of themselves. They wish to be ready for the end time when evil will be confronted and a new kingdom will be installed. The role of the Messiah is to bring this new kingdom about.”

“But what sort of kingdom is it, John? What sort of Messiah do they look forward to? I got confused for they seemed to be looking to different characters. Sometimes they spoke of a military leader who will drive out the Romans and establish peace in Jerusalem to be ruled by the righteous, with the existing priestly hierarchy being thrown out with their Roman masters. The next moment they are talking of a Messiah priest whose kingdom is spiritual. Then again they talk of a Teacher of Righteousness – some as though he was their founder, others as though he’s still to come. Is this all one person or three different people? Are they all Messiahs? And will this paradise to come just be for themselves and those that believe like them or is it for everyone, or at least open to all who are just and on the side of good?”

“They study the prophets, Joshua. They revere Isaiah and his prophecy of the new creation, the reborn Jerusalem. The time when the evil priests will be overthrown, and they, the righteous remnant will rule justly. Then trees and plants will flourish in the holy city, just as they are cultivating a foretaste in the desert.”

“But do they mean this literally - or is it a figurative image that they have? Is it an earthly kingdom, or a symbol for a celestial spiritual end time?”

“You need to spend more time with them to understand these things, Joshua. We both do. We were only with them three nights.”

“I was certainly interested in their concept of a new kingdom. But do they believe it’s possible now or only after earthly death? I want to explore more about that. God’s kingdom. What would that be like, John? A segregated holy group, pure and sinless, apart from a doomed and defeated evil world? Or a present world transformed in which ordinary people are able to be Godlike, inhabit God’s mind and love peace and care for those less able than themselves? Do they take the prophet Amos’s words seriously and value justice and make this an integral and essential element of the kingdom?”

“It’ll have no Temple priests, that’s for sure. Didn’t you hear them say that the Temple would be destroyed and rebuilt in purer form. I presume they meant the systems of organisation and administration, not the edifice itself.”

“The world won’t be put to rights by just condemning the priests.”

“No, the whole structure of the establishment must be swept away – the priests, the rabbis, the scribes, the Sanhedrin and the Roman governor, the occupying powers, Tetrarch Antipas and all his ghastly court.”

“You really are a revolutionary, John. You’ll have to be careful what you say or someone will take you seriously. And then you won’t last long enough to see any of your dreams come about.”

“You have to dream, Joshua. I have to believe that there will be many who will turn from sin and be ready for the new kingdom. And you’re going to be with me one day, aren’t you? You are, you know. It’s my job to prepare the way for you and you know it, don’t you?”

I listen to all this and I’m both excited and scared for them. And such talk goes on for days. They argue and they develop their ideas. They walk out together and roam around the hills. All they seem to want to talk about is the nature of this kingdom. I can’t help them now. My brain reels at the thoughts they express. To me life was simpler. I heard a call from God and I obeyed. I trust now that others will take forward the vision. My part is over.