The Missing Madonna, Chapter 26 "The Passover"

Joseph finally gave in and admitted that it would be worth returning to Nazareth to see if we could make a living there. For two further days since our return from Ein-Karem, Joseph has scoured the city unsuccessfully looking for work and I could see he was getting worried. The Passover Feast is approaching and Elizabeth told us that she is anticipating folk from Nazareth to stay over the holiday period as Jerusalem itself will be so crowded. Before leaving her, she suggested we have the Passover meal with her and John and if relatives from Nazareth come, we could consider returning home with them, as it would be safer to travel in a crowd. And now Joseph has agreed, so we’ve been taking stock and I told Ruth and Rebecca yesterday that we’d decided to go.

Ruth broke down when I told her. I was most surprised. I thought she had treated me with great reserve and some suspicion since we returned from Egypt, but she confessed to me that my words in the last few days had left her thinking and she had come to the view that I really had been promised that Joshua would be the longed-for Messiah.

Between her tears, she said, “Mari, I do believe you, I really do. Don’t leave us now. After all this time I want to believe that my own son’s death was not for nothing. Mari, do stay with us!”

I was confused at her reaction. I had steeled myself to the decision we had made and convinced myself that it was the best all round and that indeed our decision would be welcomed by our neighbours. Our presence and that of a healthy Joshua was too raw a wound for those women in the village who had suffered such grievous loss.

“Ruth, I don’t know what to say. I thought our presence here was upsetting for you and that we’d be better back in my home village. I’m sorry if I got it wrong. We’ve told everyone now. I’m so sorry, Ruth. I really didn’t think…”

I was interrupted by Ruth sobbing and clinging to me. I stood there trying to imagine myself in her place. I couldn’t change my mind, not now, but I felt badly about it. It seemed impossible that I had so misjudged my friend. I stayed at her home until she had recovered her composure. The children had watched us in some perplexity until Ruth had calmed down, then they resumed their games, ignoring us. I eventually took the children home. Despite her continuing pleas, I stopped myself promising to change my mind. I later told Joseph about her reaction and said,

“Joseph, you do think we’re right, don’t you? You are sure it is best? You’re not just agreeing because of my words, are you?”

Joseph just looked at me and said, “Mari, you’re not really reconsidering surely? We’ve talked about this decision at length. We’ve resolved to go. Don’t be upset by Ruth. She’s an emotional woman. You’ve been a good friend to her, but your duty now is to our children and yourself. We need to find a means of sustaining ourselves. I’ve failed to find work here. We know that there are likely to be opportunities back in Galilee and if not immediately, at least we’ll be among family who will help.”

“I know, Joseph. You’re right of course. I know you are. I just feel so desperately sorry for Ruth. I still feel for her. If it had not been for us she would have had a sturdy son to support her. I feel so guilty when I look at her, especially now she’s pleaded with us to stay.”

“Mari, you’re too soft hearted. You can’t take all the problems of the world on your shoulders. Think of yourself for once. I know how much you long to see your mother and your sisters. Think of the joy they will have when they see you returned with Joshua and James and Salome. They’ll be so proud of you. Will you deny them that opportunity just because you feel sorry for Ruth now? She’ll soon get over it when we’ve gone. She has a fine husband and two bonny girls and another child on the way if I’m not mistaken. Perhaps that will be the boy child to replace her loss.”

“You’re right. But I can’t help feeling sorry for her. I shall miss her although we’ve not resumed the closeness that I experienced with her when we first settled here.” So we let it be known that we were leaving at the Passover time. Ruth said no more about it. When we met, she put on a false cheerfulness as though she was willing herself not to be upset. She made a special fuss of Joshua. She had obviously decided he was the coming Messiah and treated him with undue respect, that seemed a little odd – after all, he was only a five year old child. Joshua did not seem to notice, but I’m sure some of the other women thought she was acting a little strangely. The other women took our impending departure with little comment.

Rebecca was her usual non-nonsense self – practical and down to earth. “Good for you, girl. You’ll be fine back with your own family. You’ve been away too long. I’ll miss you and I know Miriam will miss the children, but she’s plenty to do helping me and she’s growing up fast. Another couple of years and we’ll be looking for a husband for her. How time flies. You’ll find things changed back in Nazareth, I’m sure. I hope you find that all are well. It’s been over four years, hasn’t it?”

Joseph stopped in Ein-Karem one evening after a further day in Jerusalem, half-heartedly looking for work – he was not searching seriously since we’d decided to return north. He told Elizabeth that we’d decided to return with any of our family who came for the Passover festival. Elizabeth repeated her invitation to celebrate the meal with her and we packed our belongings, said our final farewells, and left Bethlehem for good the day before the Passover meal.

We got to Elizabeth’s house in the middle of the afternoon and were delighted to see that she already had her visitors. I recognized Susannah at once and her husband Joshua and as soon as she saw me she rushed up and flung her arms round me.

“Mari, Mari, we thought you were dead. Oh, it’s wonderful to see you. What a surprise. Elizabeth, you didn’t tell us that Mari would be here. What a secret!”

“That’s not the only surprise,“ said Elizabeth, smiling broadly. “They’re travelling back to Nazareth with you after the festival if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, how wonderful. Of course it’s fine. Nothing would delight us more. Oh, Mari, your mother will be so pleased and relieved to see you. You can’t imagine how much she’s worried about you all these years. It’ll be as though you’re back from the dead for her. I can’t wait to see her face when you meet up again.

“She’s still alive and well? I worried about her too. Did she hear about Herod killing all the boys in Bethlehem and feared we had been caught up in it?”

“What’s that Mari? What killing?”

“You haven’t heard about it? How King Herod feared that a Messiah had been born who would threaten him, so he ordered a slaughter of children who might claim the throne?”

“No. I hadn’t heard anything about that. Were you involved, Mari?”

Susannah suddenly realises what I’ve said and the significance dawns on her. She remembers our conversation and my confession as we travelled by the Jordan on that first trip to Jerusalem when she discovered my pregnancy and the reason for it.

“Mari, you really were involved? Herod discovered that your baby was the promised Messiah? And he threatened your life, that’s why you’ve disappeared from our lives?”

“Yes, Susannah, I’ll tell you all about it, but we’ve plenty of time for that. Tell me first all the news from Nazareth. How is my mother? And Salome and Rebecca and Ben? Are they all well? And your brother Clopas and his boys and your family?

“Steady on, Mari. Not so fast. Your mother and brother and sisters are fine. I’ll tell you more about everyone else later. But tell me first. This is your son, I presume,” she said, pointing to Joshua , “the one about which all the fuss has been. And these other children are yours too?”

Joseph comes into the picture at this stage for I’m suddenly too overwhelmed with emotion to answer her. He introduces Joshua and James and little Salome and greets Susannah’s husband, Joshua.

“You have children too?”

We are reassured that indeed Susannah’s children are well, but too young to make the journey to Jerusalem. Anna’s girls, my sisters I mean, are looking after them while they’re away. Apparently Clopas and Miriam his wife and James and Jude and Mo have also come down for the festival but they are staying with distant relatives in Bethany the other side of Jerusalem. They all came down together with other villagers from Nazareth and will all journey back together.

“And you’ll be joining us. How wonderful!” Susannah can’t contain her excitement while Elizabeth watches with obvious pleasure.

The next few hours are busy with the priority of looking after the children, Elizabeth’s John, as well as my brood. Susannah is eager to help and entertains Joshua and John while I settle first Salome and then James, who doesn’t want to go to bed while his older brother and cousin look as though they’re doing something interesting. We attempt to exchange further news, but give up as the children monopolise all our attention, although I notice that Joshua and Joseph are busy exchanging their news. I try to listen but I’m distracted and give up. Finally the children are asleep and Susannah, Joshua, Elizabeth, Joseph and I sit down together over a meal that Elizabeth has been preparing and try to catch up on all our news. Susannah and Joshua are dying to quiz us, but I’m anxious to hear more news from home and I tell my cousins that our story will take a long time, so let’s get the family news over first.

Susannah takes a big breath.

“Where shall I start? Let’s get the bad news over first. Eli died a couple of years ago. He had a seizure during the Sabbath meeting at the synagogue. He collapsed and died even as he was interpreting the scriptures, talking as usual about the prophecies concerning the coming of the Messiah. I suppose it’s how he would have wanted to go. It’s odd – after so much opposition when you first revealed you were carrying the child, he went to the opposite extreme and never let a moment go past without proclaiming that the time of deliverance was at hand. People were worried at first that he’d stir up trouble and cause the Romans to take an interest in us, but then he was so obsessed with the subject that he was becoming a figure of fun to some and most ceased to take him seriously. Thinking about it, I don’t think you’d have welcomed his attention. He’d have suffocated you, and taken the boy and filled his head with all sorts of dangerous tales.”

I don’t tell Susannah that I’ve already been given this information by Elizabeth. I have mixed views, in a way I’m relieved not to have to face him. His opposition and threats burned deep into my soul and I would find it hard to forget even if I could forgive. I could never quite accept his turn-around at face value, it always seemed fake to me, and I ungenerously felt it was more to do with restoring his reputation after the rabbis accepted the truthfulness of my call and blessed me and my child. I just mutter that I’m sorry in a way to hear it and express gratitude that he looked after my mother and us when he could have thrown us out.

“You’ve no need to worry on that score. Clopas inherited his father’s farm and home and all his responsibilities which he carries out with greater pleasure than Eli ever did. I know your mother always felt that Eli only helped because he felt it was his duty. You’ll meet James and Jude and Mo when we go back to Nazareth together. They’re fine lads, it’ll be James’ ’bar-mitzvah’ next year. And Mo is as cute as ever. They’ll be so excited to see you again.”

“What about my sisters?” I ask with growing impatience.

“They’ll be overjoyed to see you again. Salome missed you terribly when you left home, she cried and was quite subdued for days. And your brother was very upset that he tore your shawl that your mother had made for your wedding garment. He was convinced that he had spoiled everything. Do you still have it?”

“It’s a long story,” I reply, biting my lip. “I’ll tell you everything in a minute. But tell me quickly. They’re not married, are they?”

“No, don’t worry about that. Clopas is not in such a hurry as Eli was with you. Salome is only just of age and the two girls spend much time in the fields with the animals as you did. And one or other of them frequently visits our home – we still live in Nain – and helps me with my little boy. They’re both good with kids just as you were. You were such a splendid example. They’re pretty girls, well you don’t need me to tell you that, you knew them well enough and you’ll soon see them for yourself.”

“What about Benjamin?”

“He’s growing up too. He’ll be ten shortly and they tell me he’s becoming quite a bright scholar. Rabbi Joel seems to have a soft spot for him and often takes him for special lessons just as he did for you. I think Joel tried to rescue him from Eli’s too intrusive and suffocating clutches.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. At least I know that my immediate family is well and I have no reason to be anxious before my big reunion.

“Come on,” says Susannah, laughing. “It’s your turn now. I’m dying to hear what you and Joseph have been up to. How is your Joshua turning out? Do you still think he’s the future Messiah?”

And so for the next hour Joseph and I take it in turns to tell the spellbound audience all that has happened to us since we left Nazareth five years ago. They are horrified by the massacre that Herod’s soldiers carried out and believe that it was a miracle that we had some forewarning and escaped in time. I don’t think they really take in our hardships when we lost everything and lived for a while in the slums of Pelusium, and they were more curious about the sights and experiences of Alexandria, which seemed so exotic to villagers for whom the trip to Jerusalem was the highlight of their lives.

The next day we share the Passover meal. John is the oldest boy present and, rehearsed by Elizabeth, he retells the traditional story of the slavery in Egypt and the miraculous escape. Then Elizabeth speaks slowly and in a very measured way. She has not said much in the last twenty four hours, but we listen to her now with great care for she seems to give her words a special weight.

“Now I think I understand. You too have been in the Egypt of our ancestors where you suffered hardship. And after a time God has called you back home, just like he did to Moses and those early Israelites. I see a parallel here. It is a prophecy that will come to pass when Joshua here sets forth on the mission that God is preparing him for. He will be a second Moses, to rescue and renew our nation.”

We listen in silence. No-one dares add anything while her words sink in.

Eventually Susannah’s Joshua asks “Do you mean that Joshua here will one day free our nation from Roman rule just as Moses destroyed the Egyptians?”

“I don’t know. He will save us, of that I’m sure, but what sort of rescue it will be, that is in God’s hands. Perhaps he will lead an army and he will be a true king like our ancestor, David. Who knows?”

“Should we be training him already in the military arts?”

“Surely not, Joshua. It is much too early to decide such things. If it is God’s plan, we will know soon enough at the right time. Let’s just teach him to love God’s law and develop the character that is fit to fulfill all that our prophets foretell.”

After that, no-one feels capable of saying any more. We go quietly to our sleeping area, after checking that the children are sleeping soundly. I lie awake for hours thinking about all that has been said. I’m so excited, thinking that soon I’ll see my beloved family again and will share the delights of my growing children with them all. But it’s Elizabeth’s words that I ponder deep into the night. It’s just like it was when I first met her and she knew instinctively that God had called both of us to serve him in a great mission. She gets to the heart of the matter. I must make some time tomorrow to be alone with her and share our thoughts and hopes. I can learn much from her.