Chapter Fifteen
Family
Joses the Mason had always lived among strangeness. To be a son of Israel, a follower of the God of Jacob, who had cast down a stair from heaven and shown the father of the nation angels walking up and down it, was to live in strangeness. His grandmother Chana whispered strange tales of the birth of his mother, Mary, how she had come after they thought no children would be born to them, how she had been raised in the Temple in Jerusalem, a strange thing to believe about their mother who was so at home in Nazareth, and how all men had desired her. Not such a strange thing to imagine, for even now she was fair, and men looked on her with awe and longing. Even now, with the grandchildren she went into the fields and wove May flowers into her hair.
Grandmother had now and again told strange stories about Jesus, or begun to tell them, and Mary—as sharp as she ever was—had shushed her up. The quieting, the stories never quite told about the beginning of his brother’s life, were more intriguing than whatever truth they hid, and there were times, especially in the last almost year, when he began to believe what some whispered, that Jesus was different, that he was, in fact, not the son of Joseph.
Joses had seen the birds. Joses had seen, in childhood, Jesus touch a dead flower and bring it back to life. He’d seen Jesus clapping as butterflies surrounded him, forming bright patterns before dissolving into new ones. When, once, a mountain lion had come down to attack them, and with a word Jesus had turned it away, watchig it pad off gentle as a cub. These things happened seldom, and Jesus almost willed his sibling to forget them. Still, they lived at the back of one’s head.
In the last months, there had been the occasional whisper, the very infrequent whisper that Jesus was not Joseph ben Jacob’s son, but if a few nasty rumors wanted to make him the son of a Roman soldier or a passing merchant, most remembered that Mary was not old enough, unguarded enough or coquettish enough for that, and in the world of the Galilee, which was removed from the bastion of Judaism in Jerusalem, in a world filled with temples built to Syrian spirits and Greek gods, the candidates for the fatherhood of such a man were not always human.
“The son of an angel?” Joses wondered. He didn’t dare wonder too much.
And then, suddenly there were other disturbing claims, some it seemed, that were coming from the mouth of Jesus himself.
Tonight, the family was assembled at the house in Nazareth, and Mother was sitting silently, saying nothing, while Jacob railed on about how something must be done about Jesus.
Beside her mother, Rachel, bored, twisted a curl around one finger and said, “And what would we do?”
Jacob glowered at his sister, which made Cleophas, her husband, glower at Jacob.
Unaffectedly, Rachel ignored them both, and took up her baby daughter into her arms.
In those first days around the Festival, they had been with Jesus, until the debacle in the Temple when they had all thought it best to return north. Yochanon had already been arrested, and a family linked to two mad prophets needed to get as far away from the point of trouble soon as possible. Ah, but to even be a prophet was to be mad. Navi, the word mean madman as well as the man of vision. They had traveled north, sometimes with Jesus, sometimes not with him He was gathering his following. It was a strange thing to behold, their brother becoming the rabbi and the focus of others. Best to watch rom Nazareth, and hear from a small distance about that was going on.
Jesus had gone into a synagogue in Capernaum, or Bethsaida… or perhaps neither, it was said, and a man with a shriveled hand was there. Some of the men there were looking for a reason to accuse Jesus, so they watched him closely to see if he would heal that man even though it was the Sabbath. Jesus said to the man with the shriveled hand, “Stand up in front of everyone.”
Then Jesus had asked the crowd, “Which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill?”
But they remained silent.
He had looked around at them in anger and, deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts, said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.”
He stretched it out, and his hand was completely restored. Some said, though Joses doubted, that some of the Perushim, the holy ones whom the Greeks called Pharisees, had gone out and began to plot with the supporters of the Herods how they might kill Jesus.
“It was one thing when it was removed from us,” Simon was saying, “or when the things he was doing weren’t upsetting the people—”
“But the people are not upset,” Rachel said. “Some people are upset—”
“And those are the people who matter, Sister.”
“I would like to think,” Rachel said, “that I am the people that matter.”
“You can think what you wish, Sister, but at the end of the day…”
And there were other stories. Truthfully, Joses wished he could have been there. He was powerfully tempted to put aside work and throw Hani and the children in a cart then head off to Capernaum and find his brother. It was said that Jesus had withdrawn with his disciples to the lake, and a large crowd of Galileans followed. When they heard about all he was doing, many people came to him from Judea, Jerusalem, and not only there but Idumea, and the regions across the Jordan and even from around Tyre and Sidon. Because of the crowd he told his disciples to have a small boat ready for him, to keep the people from crowding him because even as he had preachd he had healed many, so that those with diseases were pushing forward to touch him. And the travelers said that whenever the demons possessing the suffering saw him, they fell down before him and cried out, “You are the Son of God.”
“You are the Son of God… the Son of God… the Son of…”
But these were not words from the mouth of Jesus. These were words about him from others.
“From demons.”
And in the stories it was said Jesus gave those demons strict orders not to tell others about him.
“All the world is after him!” Simon railed.
All the world. Was he the Messiah then? The crowds who came to him, whom he spoke to were no longer only Jews. Whatever hope he represented was not only for Israel. So it was said, all manner of people were crowding into Capernaum, following him into the fields and listening to him preach on the hills. Joses had taken into his heart the stories of his brother, who was suddenly much more than his brother, who said, I say to you that many will come from the east and the west, and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But the subjects of the kingdom will be thrown outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
“And now he has disciples,” Yehuda sucked on a tooth in disapproval.
“He is a teacher,” Cleophas said, “and you saw them before.”
“They were… companions.”
“They were always disciples,” Rachel said.
Mary and Chana said nothing.
Jesus had gone up on a mountainside and called to him those he wanted, and they came to him. He appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them out to preach and to have authority to drive out demons. They were, at last, John of course and his brother James, the sons of Zebedee, to them he gave the name Boanerges, which meant “sons of thunder”. Then were Andrew and Philip and Nathanael Bartholomew and Simon Zelotes as well as Peter and Matthew and James Alphaeus. Then their cousin Thaddeus the minstrel and, lastly, the twins Thomas and Judas Iscariot.
“What of Magdalene?” Mary asked.
“If Magdalene is not a disciple then no one is,” Rachel reasoned.
“The things they say of her,” Simon said, darkly, “are not worth recounting.”
But today, today, they heard of Jesus entering a house, and again a crowd gathering so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat, and the Pharisees had accused him of calling on the demons and using magic, and he had accused them of blaspheming against God’s Spirit when he blasphemed them. He had cursed them and their homes, and when Simon and Jacob heard this, when the cousins came around telling this tale, they decided, “He is out of his mind.”
And so, before Joses knew what was happening, they had all decided to pack up the house for a day and a night, and make the trip to Capernaum.
“We will bring him home,” Simon decided, “And bring him to his senses.”
“You remind me of how you first were when you were married,” Ahinoam said.
“You remind me of the eager boy who looked after my daughter with such desire.”
“I feel like that eager boy,” Simon Peter said.
Since that night when they had first dined at Matthew’s house, and his exhaustion and anxiety had been washed away by joy and desire, Peter felt himself expanding, not only in his groin, but all over. He had felt himself waxing fruitful, and look at Ada! Look how, despite the touch of white at her temples, she was youthful, laughing, clear skinned, and her belly, which had been flat all of their marriage, was now rounded to bursting with the child they awaited.
“I hope it’s a girl,” Ada said.
Then she said, “I wonder if we could ask him?”
By him, she meant Jesus. She always called him “Him”, and she was convinced the child growing in her supposedly barren body, out of her long barren marriage, was his gift.
When Magdalene came down the stairs in her long white robe, black hair hanging down her back, she thought, Ada is not the only one grown large with child.
Behind Magdalene came Joanna and Susanna, two of the women who had become disciples of Jesus, and Joanna knew what Magdalene was thinking, for after Yochanon had been arrested, Marta arose, took her servants and a caravan, and traveled across the desert into Perea to make her home in Machaerus, the desert city with the retreat palace of Herod, where he kept Yochanon imprisoned. There she visited her husband everyday, separated by bars and the thick wood of a prison door, and she prayed that Herod would let him go. But Herod was obssessed with him. And what a strange man that king was.
Four months after they had left Jerusalem, returning north, a currier had come with a message for Magdelene which read:
Sister, I have not even told our brother of this matter: I am pregnant and before the year is done, will give birth to Yochanon’s child.
Mary and her sister were never women to speak more than they needed. A child must have a father. Herod must release John. There were moments when Magdalene looked at Jesus, driving out demons, straightening crooked limbs, making the sick rise and pick up their mats then walk with a gesture and a word and wondered: “Why can you not free your cousin? Why can you not free my sister from this misery? Why can’t you go into that prison and bring out John?”
Marta never blamed him though, but Marta did not come north. She didn’t even come to Bethany. It was Lazaros who traveled north, to Sepphoris that Magdalene might help him with the family business, for he could barely handle it on his own. Good thing, also, that Alphaeus and Matthew were there, and Lazaros had become lonely staying in Judea.
One day, though, men worn out and tired, a little irritated, perhaps, showed up at the doorstep of Simon Peter’s house seeking Jesus, and they waited some time because, as usual, the house was the epicenter of crowds from all over, listening to him preach on the top of the house. These men said they were from Yochanon, and Ada, round with her baby, and Ahinoam, fetched water for them while Joanna brought them fresh, curds and cheese, bread and figs.
When Jesus came up to them, one said, “Rabbi, you may not remember me, but I remember you. I am Kennet, and I have been in Machaerus, attending to John, and he has a message for you. A question really. I am almost afraid to ask it, but… ”
The other man said, “We do not know how long he has, and he most certainly wishes for an answer.”
“Then ask it,” Jesus said.
“John asks,” Kennet said, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”
Joanna looked up and saw the almost despair on Jesus’s face. After all, was this not the man who had said, “Behold the Lamb of God? Was John not the first to testify to him, to set him on the way and say exactly who he was? And yet, well that was it, Jesus never had said exactly who he was. And he had not done all he could do, was not even sure of all he could do. Was it, in fact, completely possible for him to raise up an army, and drag John of out of Machaerus prison, to take Jerusalem as the Macabees had and usher in a new kingdom. One who could turn stones into bread could surely challenge Rome.
Jesus had no answer. He turned around and decended back into the house and into silence. He left the courtyard and the waiting crowds and locked himself away in a room.
Soon Judas came up the stairs, followed by John, and he demanded of the visitors, “What did you say to him?”
When Kennet repeated it, John’s face went white, and before Judas could do anything, John struck him in the back of the head.
“How dare you—!” John began while Judas pulled him away.
“Did you hear what he said?” John demanded, his voice rising.
Judas gripped him by the shoulders, but he was gentle when he spoke.
“You cannot hit men over the head for having questions.”
At this time, Jesus came out of the enclosed room and moved through the courtyard as if no others were there. He climbed up to the roof and found the men and he spoke as if he had never left.
“Go back and report to John what you hear and see.”
His voice gathered power, and he declared from the top of the house, “The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.”
And then he added: “And blessed is anyone who does not take offence at me.”
Kennet was silent, and beside him Jeremiah went to his knees and bowed once, before rising.
“These are the words we will give to our master,” he said.
And Jesus said, “Will you remain with us the night?”
“We must be traveling.”
“You will not make it to Machaerus any sooner by setting out now than by setting out tomorrow.”
“Maybe we will,” Jeremiah said, “maybe.”
“Then provision them with food,” Jesus said to John and Judas.
But when Kennet and Jeremiah said that was fine, John said, “Well, then that is fine with us too.”
As they were climbing down the outside steps, leaving the house, John said, “Those diciples which remain of John will always resent you.”
“That is not my problem, Jonni,” Jesus said. “Nor is it yours.”
In a louder voice, as John’s disciples were leaving, Jesus began to speak to the crowd.
“What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swayed by the wind? If not, what did you go out to see? A man dressed in fine clothes?”
If Kennet and Jeremiah were listening, they were now lost in the midday crowd.
“No,” Jesus continued, “those who wear fine clothes are in kings’ palaces. Then what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written:
“‘I will send my messenger ahead of you,
who will prepare your way before you.’
“Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been subjected to violence, and violent bear it away. For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John. And if you are willing to accept it, he is the Elijah who was to come. Whoever has ears, let them hear.”
John felt as if he were only half paying attention until now. His heart had been red at the offense he thought Kenneth and Jeremiah were extending, but now he was silent enough to listen to Jesus addressing the people,e his tone a little, a very little lighter, his tone addressed to the sober men in black who were beginning to hate him and call him a blasphemer.
“To what can I compare this generation? They are like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling out to others:
“‘We played the pipe for you,
and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge,
and you did not mourn.’
“For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ 1The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.’”
Had this crowd known about that night at Matthew’s house, the first time he’d come, or the several after? What did they think of the long nights where they chanted psalms as they swirled in circles, dancing for joy, eyes lifted to heaven? And what did their thoughts matter as Jesus declared:
“But wisdom is proven by her children.”
And it was in that moment, at that minute, on that day, that Joses, Judah, Simon and Jacob arrived at the house of Simon Peter.
