Nine

Thomas's eyes widened. "Of a truth?"

"We were down in Judea when John started speaking of him," said John. Thomas and Nathanael looked confused, and John, seeing this, said, "John is a person that has been causing a tremendous amount of controversy, bathing people in the Jordan down there, telling them that he is the forerunner of the promised Prince, and that we should prepare ourselves. I happened to be there, though James stayed here to keep the business going--I was to enter into studies at the Temple, and my--at any rate, I was there with Andrew and Simon, who had decided to take a little holiday and see this preacher."

"And we were enthralled," said Andrew. "He had everyone convinced that we were about to enter a new age."

"And then he actually pointed out who it was that he was referring to," continued John, "one day that Jesus walked by. He said that he had bathed him also (he bathed us too, of course) and saw the Spirit come upon him like a dove, and that was how he knew who he was."

"And of course, as soon as we heard it, we went after Jesus," continued Andrew, "and spent the day with him. John may have been forceful, but he--well, of course, you have met him."

"We knew we were to be 'students' of his, as he called us, as if he were a rabbi," said John, "but he mentioned that he would not be available for a couple of months, and that we should resume what we had been doing. 'I will see you again, never fear,' he said." (At this point, James took John aside and told him, "Be not quite so enthusiastic about what you are interested in, remember. You tend to make others bored if you are not careful.")

"And sure enough," Andrew continued, "as we were in the boats not too long ago, mending our nets, he came by and told us to follow him--and we did, as did James and Simon, leaving poor Zebedee confounded and, truth be told, a bit indignant. That is what Simon is trying to patch up at the moment." He did not think he should complicate the narrative by mentioning the catch of fish.

Nathanael then stepped back in and said, "But let me introduce you to the others." He brought Thomas to James the Owl, who said, "I am (hem) pleased to make your acquaintance. I had (ha) heard of your plight from Nathanael--or should I now say (hem) Bartholomew?"

"Call me whatever you like," answered Nathanael, clearly annoyed.

"So like you," said James. "It gratifies me," he said to Thomas, "to see that you are (ha) recovered." Andrew, who had no particular liking for James, wandered off by himself to think. There was so much--too much--to think about.

He began to feel a bit more secure as he looked over the group. They were all, except possibly Judas Iscariot, completely incompetent in any kind of political enterprise, and still more so when it came to instilling religion into people--which they would have to be doing if Jesus were--was--God and they were to have God as their king in the person of Jesus. And how could any of them handle Rome? If Simon the Revolutionary had his way, they would all be hanging on crosses within a fortnight. Change their way of thinking? They would have to change everything about themselves!

Judas seemed to confirm Andrew's impression. He was saying to Thomas,"We will sort ourselves out in a short time. We are in one sense a rather rag-tag group, but the Master knows what he is doing; you will see." Andrew fervently hoped so, but could see no way it could be accomplished. But then, he could have foreseen no way to persuade Zebedee to let John and James and Simon and himself go. And it was all done so neatly and quickly! With a few moments of intense pain, to be sure, but no lasting damage.

But that seemed to indicate, did it not, that all would not be smooth sailing under gentle breezes; there would be squalls to face. But with Jesus in the boat, they would get through them.

John at the moment was about to break into a dispute with Simon the Revolutionary about the direction the group was to take. Andrew thought Simon's idea was absurd. An army à la Maccabee would be snuffed out at once by the immense power of Rome, and Jesus, if he was what Andrew could not help thinking he was, could vanquish Rome in a moment with twelve legions of angels. Why get this crowd involved in bloodshed in that case? It made even less sense than what he had seen happen--which was unbelievable, but at least not irrational.

John confirmed his thoughts by saying to Simon, "Oh, please! Do we look like the makings of an army?" Even less so now, thought Andrew, with a reformed--if he was reformed--drunk among them.

"You never know," answered Simon. "I imagine those who followed Judas Maccabeus did not look like much at the beginning. We will see, we will see."

"We will never see that, I am certain."

"Yes, well, many are certain of many things." Andrew sided with John.

"But I did not have a chance to tell you--Didymus--" said John, eager to end the wrangle they kept having, "how very happy--how very happy--I am to see you here." Andrew wondered if this effusiveness was due to Thomas's--or rather Didymus's--resemblance to what had been his friend, of whether there was some connection John had to the accident, and that he was glad to see that at least Thomas had survived it.

"Why thank you--John, is it?" said Thomas. "The names are running by me so quickly I lose them as soon as I hear them. But I fear I am no great addition to anything."

"Fear not. You will do great things. We all will do great things; I am convinced of it."

"By the way," broke in Andrew, just reminded of something, "did you know that Jesus' mother has been invited to a wedding in Cana tomorrow? And that it looks as if we will be going also?" Thomas flinched at this, and Andrew realized that this would be a real trial for him, since he would be expected to drink a toast to the bride and groom. Well, it would just be an occasion, he supposed, for some fresh miracle on Jesus's part. He smiled to himself. He was actually expecting miraculous things now.

"Indeed?" said John, looking at Thomas. He evidently hoped it was not true, for Thomas's sake.

"I believe so," answered Andrew. "That is why Jesus is at Simon's house now. He is speaking to his wife and her mother about the arrangements; it is her sister who is about to be married, and he is trying to see if we will be a burden on the couple."

"I can see why," said Thomas. "Probably whoever invited her and Jesus had no idea that it would involve eight or ten more people." He also sounded eager that it might prove impossible.

"Exactly. And I do not think they are especially well off. So perhaps Jesus will go alone; I would suspect that that would be the most sensible thing. But Simon gave me the impression that he (I mean Jesus) would like to bring us along, if it were possible. Perhaps Jesus will subtly supply some financial help, somehow." Or another spectacular miracle. Why not?

"He wishes to make a sort of public display of us as a group, I suspect," said Nathanael. "We are presumably the core--or part of it--of whatever it is that he is planning."

And the great miracle would be precisely whatever he was planning, thought Andrew. He seemed to be going out of his way to pick misfits, at least as far as "changing the way the world thinks" went--or whatever it was. Judas Iscariot could perhaps manage it well--he looked as if he could do anything well, even wield a sword if Simon the Revolutionary's view was accurate--but the other Judas looked too shy for anything. And, let us face it, what good would a team of fishermen be for such an enterprise? And there were so many of them! Granted, Andrew felt at home among them, but how did you go about persuading people if you smelt of fish? He thought back to his reaction to John when they met after his week with soap.

And what would one do with Philip? Or the James that kept clearing his throat? Perhaps Thomas could make something of himself if he could control his desire for wine--but even at that, he was simply a fisherman. And Nathanael, perhaps, was cultivated enough to move in upper-class circles, but he seemed to be either supremely lazy, based on what Andrew had seen as he went by him in fishing--or possibly he was even more timid than Judas Thaddeus.

The more one thought of them, the likelier it seemed that they were gathered because they were misfits. Jesus wanted to rescue them from their failures somehow. Then how precisely, thought Andrew, will I turn out to be incompetent, and how will Jesus remedy it? Andrew began to contemplate the multitudinous tasks that seemed to be required, for which he had no talent whatever. It was anything but a comfortable feeling, especially after feeling so sure of himself. "Or have I got some serious fault that I know not, or am only dimly aware of? And how would I get rid of it, not really knowing it?"

And then there was Ezra. How did a black man like him fit in, if at all? John, who at the moment, was engaged in chit-chat with Andrew--that sort of conversation that went on when one was thinking of something else--had Ezra in the corner of his eye, as Ezra and Thomas were standing apart from the others, engaged in a rather serious discussion. Nobody else had given Ezra the least attention at all, striking as his appearance was, presumably because they still thought of him as a slave, whom one did not notice. The thought occurred to Andrew how infuriating this must be to the slave. He would have to find something to say to Ezra, if only to break the pattern.

At one point, Thomas laughed aloud, calling attention to the two of them. "If ever I need lessons in how to be a successful slave, I know who to come to for instruction," he said. Ezra laughed with him.

John, who had come to a pause in his own conversation, wandered over to them and said, "What was this you found so amusing?"

Ezra gave Thomas a knowing look. What was that about? Thomas said to John, "Oh, Ezra was telling me how slaves manage to manipulate their masters, and I said I knew who to go to if I needed lessons in how to be a slave."

"How does it feel, Ezra," said John, "to be a free man?"

"At the moment, John," (as he said the name without any "Master" preceding it, John reacted for an instant, but recovered himself) "it is not so very different. I find it somewhat frightening, however, because my decisions now have consequences. When I merely did what my master ordered, the consequences were his."

"Yes," returned John, after a moment's thought. "I have heard people who leave the army say much the same thing."

"But I will learn." He gave John a huge smile."We all have a great deal to learn, I think," he said.

"True." He looked around a bit nervously, and then saw with relief that Jesus was approaching. "And we have found the perfect rabbi and master. And here he comes--with his mother and Simon."

Jesus and Simon were engaged in earnest conversation when they approached, with his mother contributing a remark here and there.

John ran up as they came near, and told them that they had met Thomas, and Jesus said, "Yes, we are nearly complete now. There is one more, but I think that it will be some time before he joins us."

So there was method in what Jesus was doing. He was actually looking for these people, and for the one whom they had not encountered as yet. It was silly to say that he chose them because they were incompetent, so there must have been something else they had in common. What could it be?

Something they lacked that Jesus needed to supply? That seemed to be the case with Thomas and probably Nathanael. And, thought Andrew, it could be the case also with my brother, because he was apt to be rash and needed to be guided, as he now realized he had been guided by their father. And I, of course. How could I ever do what would be expected of me? And what of John? He seemed very worried about something; perhaps he too needed watching. Perhaps that was it; they all needed watching, for one reason or another, and Jesus wanted them close to him to keep his eye on them and direct them into the path that led to their salvation.

But who could tell? It was all very confusing.

"But," John was saying, looking over at Thomas, "are we going to the wedding-feast? Or will you go by yourself?".

Jesus's mother answered, "You were never slow, John, in getting to the point. Give us a moment to breathe. Who is this new member you have?" John took her arm and all but dragged her to meet Thomas, who bowed. Jesus went off to the side, letting his mother be the center of attention. He seemed interested in what his "students'" conversation would be, rather than in dominating it.

"I am very happy to make your acquaintance, Thomas," she said. "My son speaks highly of you?"

"He does?" said Thomas in amazement. "I cannot think on what grounds." He blushed in embarrassment.

"Oh, he sees what is inside a person," she answered. "I imagine you were a bit--shall we say taken aback?--by some of the rest of the group. Their outside in some cases is not prepossessing." So Jesus's mother saw what Andrew had noticed; but she seemed not concerned about it.

"He told me that I must trust him," he replied. "I personally have no choice, but as Judas, I think it was, said, he seems to know what he is doing."

"Have no fear on that score," she said, "though of course, I would say such a thing, being his mother. But precisely because I am his mother, I can claim to know him better than anyone else; and I assure you, he is eminently worthy of your trust."

"I hope so, my Lady," Thomas seemed to have caught the regal air she possessed. "I myself am the person I am afraid to trust. I fear I have no capacity to do 'great things,' as people seem to be predicting of me."

She laughed. "Fear not. If he thinks you will do them, then you will do them. You will see. Fear not. Consider what you have done already." Jesus seemed to have talked rather extensively about Thomas to his mother.

"I find it not full of accomplishments, I am afraid," Thomas said, after a pause.

"But you are only looking at it from a certain point of view. He looks from all points of view. You will see. Fear not."

"I will try, my Lady."

"He asks no more." She turned from him to say something to John and then turned back, "Not even success."

That was interesting. Perhaps there was hope for Andrew yet.

"I am already amazed, truth be told, my Lady. But it is all his doing. I was just thinking that I fit David's notion of himself as a 'worm, not a man.'"

She laughed. "Ah, but look at what David made of himself, with the Lord's help."

"Oh, but I am no David! Far from it!"

"Trust him. He knows what he is about."

"In my case, I have no alternative. To trust in myself is to trust a worm, and that is despair."

She laughed again. "Fear not."

"He will have to bring that about, I suspect. But I will try. I am gratified to hear you say that I need but try, not necessarily succeed."

"I meant that. You will see. The success is secondary. He could do it all himself, but he wishes that we join him."

"If I can."

"Of yourself, you cannot. None of us can. But trust him." And there was wisdom, thought Andrew. If I only could keep it in mind!

"Well, as I said, I will try--or at any rate, I will try to try." She laughed once more.

But how does one try to try when one does not know what to try for? Andrew was sorely tempted to walk away and go back to the fishing boat--but of course, Simon would not be there.

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