The Missing Madonna, Chapter 25 "Bethlehem or Nazareth?"

Joseph is getting frustrated. He’s spent three days trying to raise interest from his old customers, but they all use Ishmael now who moved in from Jerusalem when we left home and no-one wants to abandon him just because we’ve come back. Joseph says that some of his former customers, whom he thought friends, were quite nasty and not only accused him of letting them down before, but seemed to blame him for the catastrophe that overwhelmed the village.

I think he’ll have to search for work in Jerusalem itself which means a two hour walk each way every day hauling all the tools he might need with him. I don’t think he’s looking forward to that, but he hinted last night that if he can’t get any work today, he’ll have to try in Jerusalem.

I haven’t told Joseph yet that I’ve spoken to both Rebecca and Ruth about Joshua and everything that’s happened to us. I’m not sure what his reaction will be. I don’t think he’ll like it. I don’t know what I think is going to happen either. I half expect Rebecca and Ruth to either be excited and really be friendly or to disbelieve me and be cold and antagonistic. It is strange, but neither reaction has taken place. Rebecca just carries on in her usual no nonsense way, as if I never mentioned anything to her. Ruth seems cautious, as though she still can’t make up her mind whether she believes me or not.

I know she is putting Joshua under very close observation, trying to make up her mind whether he is different to other children. He isn’t – why should he be? He won’t begin to fulfill his destiny until he’s a man, surely? If he starts challenging the Romans now or showing his true colours, he’ll come to grief. He’s just not old or strong enough yet. I don’t know what Ruth expects to see. She keeps telling me that Joshua is such a nice ordinary boy, as though she was challenging me to deny it and tell her some new miracle or astonishing skill that would prove my words. But it’s not like that. What do I expect anyway? Reading our scriptures does not give me many clues. Should I dedicate him to the Temple like Hannah did with Samuel? I don’t think I could make that sacrifice. I’m proud enough to think he needs me.

I do spend a lot of time with him after James and Salome are both asleep, even though he is sometimes so tired after a full day playing that he nearly falls asleep as he snuggles on my lap.
I tell him lots of stories, tales I learned when Joel spent time with me and his daughter, my friend Hannah, at the synagogue in Nazareth. Joshua seems to know them by heart because if I leave out any bit, even if I think he’s only half listening, he stops me and insists I get it right! Sometimes I tell him about the stranger who told me that I would bear the Messiah and about some of the problems I had. I don’t tell him the really nasty bits as I don’t want to distress him. I’m not sure if he understands any of this yet, but I think it’ll be easier if I get him used to some of these strange things rather than springing it on him when he’s really old enough to understand.

I tell him about his cousin John. Now we’re this close I’ve got Joseph to promise me that we’ll visit Elizabeth, Zechariah and John soon. They might have news of everyone back in Nazareth. I’m anxious, it’s been so long since we were in touch. They must think we’ve disappeared off the face of the earth. I wonder if the news of the killing of the boys in Bethlehem reached home – if so, they’ll have assumed Joshua was murdered too and will be grieving for him, perhaps even fearing that we’re dead too. I must try to see if I can find anyone up from Galilee at the next Passover and get a message home if Elizabeth and Zechariah aren’t in touch.

Joseph came back tonight very despondent. He’s still had no success in finding any work. He’ll have to go to Jerusalem tomorrow and see if he can find a carpenter who needs assistance or seek new construction work with the possibility of a contract as he did in Alexandria. He’s worried though that such work, which would almost certainly be for the Romans, would not go down well here. The local people are much more antagonistic to Roman building developments than the Egyptians, and he’s heard Jews calling such men who work for the Romans ‘collaborators’ and shun them. I suggested to him that we might do worse than go back to Nazareth, but he was of the opinion that he might face the same problem there as in Bethlehem and said we must wait and see how he got on in the city. He did, however, think that a visit to Elizabeth and Zechariah in Ein-Karem might be worthwhile. Zechariah with his contacts and influence at the Temple might know of some opening.

After a couple of days of searching in Jerusalem with still no prospects of employment, we decided to pack and pay my cousin a visit. We took the donkey and our tent as Elizabeth might struggle to house all of us – for all I know she might have had further children after John despite her age. Joshua was ever so excited when we told him that he was going to visit John as I’d told him so much about him. Despite being a popular child in the village, I think Joshua misses playing with other boys of his own age. We set off early as it was a good day’s trek to Ein-Karem. We had to go into Jerusalem itself as there was no route to Elizabeth’s village other than the direct road from the city, and I remembered my long walk with Zechariah when I was tired after the walk up from Jericho with the crowd of us going to the Passover celebration five years ago.

Of course Joshua was fascinated with the sights in the city. He’d heard me talk about the Temple and he was overawed by its vast bulk. He’d seen bigger buildings in Alexandria but not been quite so close to them and we went right up to its walls towering above us. I think he was a bit frightened by the noise and bustle too, it was pandemonium there with everyone jostling each other and traders shouting out about their wares. James seems oblivious of it all, he just wants to ride on the donkey’s back all the time, while Salome is fast asleep in my arms.

Anyway, we get to Ein-Karem in the middle of the afternoon. I remember the way to her house and I can’t help wondering what sort of reception we’ll get. How surprised will they be? I’m really looking forward to the reunion as Elizabeth and Zechariah were, I’m sure, the first persons – apart from my sisters and brother – who really believed in me. Even my mother seemed unsure although she clearly wanted to believe. At first I’m worried as their house seems to be shut up. I can’t hear any movement. Surely they’ve not moved away? Has something dreadful happened to them? Joseph goes in search of someone and comes back with the message that Elizabeth and John are probably at the well. I assume Zechariah must be at the Temple, back in Jerusalem – he used to serve there two or three times a week.

So we wait outside Elizabeth’s house and eventually we are rewarded as I spot Elizabeth and a small boy hand in hand coming up the road towards us accompanied by a couple of other women, all bearing large water pots. When she spots us, she puts her water jar down and scoops John up and comes running to me.

“Mari, Mari, my dear, is it really you? After all these years? I was so afraid for you, I wondered what on earth had happened. I thought something must have gone badly wrong or you’d have been in touch earlier.”

She flings her arms around me and Salome in my arms and hugs me with all her strength. Then she looks down questioningly at my family.

“Joshua?” she says looking at the boy. And before I can answer she points to James and Salome. “And these? All your family? You lucky girl. You are well blessed.”

“And you?” I manage to blurt out whilst the breath is being squeezed from me.

“This is John. You know John, you helped to deliver him. He’s a great comfort to me, especially as Zechariah has passed on.”

I start. “You’re alone? Zechariah is dead?”

Elizabeth nods. I see her eyes water.

“Last year. He caught a fever. There was much disease in the city. I think pilgrims brought it when the city was crowded at last year’s Passover.”

“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. I didn’t know. We’ve been out of the country. It’s a long story and I’ll tell you later, but you must tell us if our visit is upsetting for you.”

“Of course not, Mari. I’m delighted to see you all. And Joseph too – I presume this is your husband?”

Joseph greets her and lifts Joshua, then James to be given a hug by my cousin whom I still think of as an aunt as she is of a different generation to me.

“Come inside and make yourselves at home. You’ll stay a while with us, won’t you?”

“Only if it is convenient for you. We’ve brought our tent and food.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mari. Of course you’re welcome. Nothing will give me greater pleasure than getting to know all your family and hearing all your news. Come inside and let me get you a drink. You must be tired and hot? Where have you come from today? Are you all the way from Nazareth?”

We go inside her house – it somehow seems smaller than I remember. John has already taken Joshua out to their backyard and is showing him their chickens and a couple of goats. James trundles behind them. She pours Joseph and me a jar of wine and takes a little herself.

“How are you managing?” asks Joseph. Is anyone caring for you?”

“The Temple people are good. One of the rabbis visits me every month and sees that I have need of no essentials. I cannot grumble. The priests look after their own.”

Salome wakes up at that moment and Elizabeth immediately comes to look at her. I offer her and Elizabeth beams and takes her into her own arms. Luckily Salome gives her a smile and for the next minute or so they commune in silence. Joseph goes out into the yard to check that the lads are up to no mischief and I get a chance to ask Elizabeth what I’ve been dying to say ever since we arrived.

“And news from Nazareth, Elizabeth? Do you have any? We’ve been in Bethlehem and earlier in Egypt, I’ve not heard from my family since we left Nazareth five years ago. Do you have any news? How is my mother?”

“You’ve been in Egypt, dear? My, what experiences you have. You must tell me all about it. But yes, you’ll want to hear such news as I have first I’m sure. I don’t know a lot, but Susannah and her husband called last year when they were up for the Passover festival and heard of my loss. They said your mother was well and also your brother and sisters. However, your uncle, the Rabbi Eli, had apparently died a couple of years ago. That’s about all I know.”

I start a little at this news. It is strange to think my biggest critic and latterly almost embarrassing supporter is no more. That such a momentous change has happened and I’ve known nothing of it is disconcerting. I think about it with mixed feelings. My immediate thought is the impact on my mother for he had helped her despite his misgivings about us. As if she guesses my worries, Elizabeth adds, “Clopas has apparently taken over all his father’s responsibilities. Susannah said that your family was very grateful for his continuing support – in fact they found Clopas more congenial to live with than old Eli had ever been.”

At that moment Joseph comes back into the room with the boys and all efforts at meaningful conversation comes to an abrupt end. The boys are in a boisterous mood and wrestle with each other and Joseph until Elizabeth calls Joshua over and asks him some questions. Clearly he doesn’t want to leave his new friend, but he is polite and answers Elizabeth to his best ability without volunteering anything other than a direct and succinct answer to her query. She sees the sun is beginning to set and busies herself with making a meal for us. I give her the food we have brought which she reluctantly accepts for she has insufficient to feed all of us. I need to feed Salome now and watch the three boys playing as she suckles from my breast. It’s only after our meal and the children go up onto the roof to play and then sleep that we are able to resume our exchange of news.

Elizabeth is agog to hear absolutely everything and between us Joseph and I spend over two hours recounting everything we can remember – which is most of it for so much is printed indelibly on my mind. She’d heard that I’d married Joseph so she knew there must have been a happy outcome as when I last saw her I was in disgrace and facing a showdown with Eli and the rabbis over my refusal to get rid of the baby I was carrying.

“Zechariah and I prayed hard for you,” she says. “You were so courageous. You were a lesson to all of us in your steadfastness and trust in God.”

She makes me describe my ordeal in the synagogue when I was examined by the rabbis and accused of blasphemy and even makes me recount my humiliation – but only to marvel the more that I maintained my faith. That is what she says, anyhow. And Joseph tells her how he with my mother interceded successfully at the last moment. The birth and the strange visitors in Bethlehem are met with delight on her part, before she hears about the attempt by Herod to kill our child and the catastrophic consequences which we missed only by fleeing to Egypt.

“God has truly watched over you,” she says although I am reluctant to think God rescued me but condemned our neighbours in Bethlehem to that murderous tyrant. We skim over our time in Egypt for it is getting late and she insists we tell her more of that in detail on the morrow.

“But you have said little about your life,” I say. “Your John is special too. What signs and experiences have you received? Your story is as miraculous as ours.”

“Nonsense, my dear. I was an old woman with the belated and much treasured gift of a child. He’ll support your son, I’m sure he will, but yours is the Messiah, not John.”

“But the vision of Zechariah in the Temple. The restoration of his speech. The prophecies – all these mean nothing to you?”

“Of course they do, Mari, but they are insignificant compared with your destiny and that of your son. I know it.”

“Don’t belittle yourself, Elizabeth. John will be important, I’m sure of it. We were joyful together when we met that first time, it was an equal joy we both shared. God values you too and honoured Zechariah.”

“Thank you dear for saying so. You haven’t changed much have you? I know you’ve grown up and had three children – not that it’s so obvious – but you’re still the same old Mari, humble and so enthusiastic, full of life despite your experiences which would have burdened many a soul and made them bitter or tired or too self-centred. No wonder God chose you. And your good husband, of course,” she adds hastily, looking suddenly at Joseph who’s been silent for most of our long discourse.

Joseph goes to fetch the tent which is still strapped across the back of the ass, which is tethered in the back yard.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Elizabeth exclaims, ‘you’ll have my space. I’ll sleep with the children on the roof. It will be fresher up there and I’ll watch to see that they come to no harm. We don’t want Joshua or James falling because of their unfamiliarity with the place. You can tend Salome here. I guess she will disturb during the night and need another drink.”

There is nothing we can do about it. She insists and we capitulate with good grace. It does make sense even if I feel guilty about it. We are tired, it’s been a long day and we fall asleep very quickly. Salome does wake later, but I’m unsure how long I’ve been asleep and she only spends a few minutes at my breast before she’s fast asleep again and I can resume my rest.

The next day we are presuming to return to Bethlehem, but Elizabeth will not hear of it. She wants the rest of our story and has to wait for some time until the children rest after the midday meal. In return I try to get her to tell us more about our family back in Nazareth, but she is vague and I come to the opinion that she really doesn’t know much more than she’s already told us. So we spend a second night at Ein-Karem. Joshua and John seem to have become bosom friends with poor James trying to keep up with them. John dashes ahead, he’s not used to a smaller child wanting to join in, but Joshua is very good and protects the interests of his younger brother, even when he gets sulky or obstinate and spoils their games.

All evening we’ve been reliving our years in Pelusium and Alexandria. It’s odd that it already seems so distant even though it’s only weeks ago. But the more we talk about it, the more I begin to feel homesick, not for our Bethlehem home, but for Nazareth and my mother and Salome and Rebecca and little Ben – well, not so little now, I suppose. I wonder what he looks like. Will I recognise him when we meet again? That night as Joseph and I lay awake listening to Elizabeth moving around above us, I tell Joseph how I feel.

“Can we go home to Nazareth? You can’t find work here. May be you will do better there. You worked in Sepphoris and Capernaum before. There must be a good chance now and Clopas can help you find work just as Eli did. Please, Joseph!”

“Go to sleep, Mari. You’ve worn your tongue out this evening. Leave it until tomorrow.”

“But please, Joseph, will you think about it then?”

“Alright, Mari, I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising anything. I’m too tired to think properly now.”