Nineteen

John caught a glimpse of the "broken man" slipping behind a bush, with Ezra inconspicuously following him. He lost them in the confusion, and decided to go over by Thomas, since Ezra would probably come to him; they were evidently good friends. John did not exactly join Thomas, but stayed a bit out of sight, though near enough to hear, because he wanted to know what was going on first.

After a while Ezra returned, shaking his head. "Who was that man?" asked Thomas, and Ezra answered, "I know not. But something strange is going on. I was about to follow him, and then--rather like the Master--he was nowhere. Has the Master returned?"

"No, he--"

"I expect it would be well to go down to Capernaum for the night," said Jesus, as if he had been with them and were resuming a conversation. John jumped at his sudden appearance. Where had he come from? "I have an errand to do in that vicinity tomorrow evening, and we can find places there to stay with no trouble. It seems I am not welcome here."

So it seemed, thought John, that if Jesus did not want to be taken, he would not be taken, since he had the ability, probably as "one and the same" with the Creator of everything, to disappear and appear at will--even if people actually had their hands on him. This was definitely not simply a man who had the powers of an Elijah; this had never happened before.

Jesus, acting as if nothing unusual had happened, gathered his group of followers and led them to the place they had been earlier, by the lake. And interestingly, no one else noticed them at all--any of them. Could he make whole groups disappear? He apparently made the "broken man" disappear with him.

John laughed to himself. He seemed to have the same power Ezra also seemed to have. In spite of his striking appearance, no one seemed to pay any attention to him either. But he was not like the Master, of course; he did not really disappear (John could see him, for instance, when nobody else seemed to), and he had no power to keep anyone else with him from being noticed.

But the point, he supposed, is that one did not actually have to disappear, but simply misdirect people's attention. In Ezra's case, it was misdirected because people either thought of him as a slave and therefore part of the landscape, or because they were embarrassed by the thought of talking to a black ex-slave as if he were one of them, and so chose not to see him. What Jesus did might be a version of this, acting on people's minds, somehow. Who knew? If he was "one and the same" as the Father, a simple manipulation of minds of a group of people was no problem.

The students talked indignantly of the reception he had received, but it did not seem to bother Jesus; it had apparently confirmed what he had expected. "It goes to show," remarked Nathanael, "that it is not going to be all that easy to inaugurate the Reign of God in Galilee either. Cures are fine, and perhaps signs of the new state of affairs; but even those impressed by them care about them as cures, not signs."

To John, that showed how Jesus's revealing that he was "one and the same as the Father" was going to be a miracle even beyond turning water into wine, and appearing and disappearing, not to mention curing at a touch. How could he convince people that these miracles were "signs" of a completely new universe? And what did it entail? No more disease and suffering? It looked as if that were at least part of it.

That day and the next passed in discussions that went nowhere, and in Jesus's touching and curing a growing number of people who came to him for relief. Toward evening, Jesus went with his students up to a river ford, at which there was a tax-collector's booth, where a man--the "broken man!"who looked even more broken than ever, if that were possible--was assessing the tax on the loads the farmers wished to transport, and his assistants were looking on with a mixture of horror and disbelief. He looked as if he was about to give up in complete despair, and went into the booth, taking something in his hand. A knife? To stab himself? It looked like it from the way he held whatever it was.

Jesus walked up and said, "Come. Follow me," and the man, who was evidently fighting within himself, after a few moments put whatever it was onto a shelf in his booth. He looked back at it, as if wondering whether he was doing the right thing in not using it. But he turned and walked toward Jesus.

A tax-collector! A "broken" tax-collector--no, a completely shattered tax-collector. And Jesus wanted him to follow him! John's theory was being confirmed again; Jesus chose people, not because they would be useful to him, but because he was essential to them. Had not Judas said they were a "rag-tag" group? That was why. They were the most needy of the needy, and he would do amazing things with them!

John hoped.

There was a soldier standing by, and he and the two assistants came up to the man, while Jesus said to the soldier, "This man has decided to become a student of mine, and will no longer be working here. You will let him go, and you may tell his--friend--that he will soon be glad to have eyes and ears in the company of Jesus of Nazareth. The name is not unknown in Judea, even now."

"I will be required to confirm that." said the soldier.

"I and my followers will not be difficult to find. If you need to locate Levi, you will have no trouble."

So his name was Levi.

"You are leaving us, Master?" said one of the assistants, and the man, who had almost started to go back to the booth, turned instead to him and said, "No. Yes. . . .Yes. I have decided to follow this man and learn from him." Then, apparently now that the decision had been made, he continued with less confusion in his voice, "You know how to carry on what we have been doing. Use today's numbers as a guide to what Rome exacts, and add enough to earn your own keep. You will have no trouble. But be not too exacting."

Both men reacted with astonishment, apparently at the last phrase more than anything else. "But you cannot simply leave us!" said the one who had spoken.

He made no reply, and turned to follow after Jesus, who had confidently walked away, as if everything had been settled satisfactorily. The others kept expostulating, but it was as if Levi could not hear. The soldier followed for a step or two, as if he would object, and then shrugged his shoulders, and began speaking to the two assistants.

Philip came up to Thomas, and whispered, "Was he not in the synagogue this morning?" and Thomas, who thought Jesus might not want this advertised, replied, "I know not. The synagogue?" Philip ought to be the last person to have this suspicion confirmed, thought John. Thomas was wise. But of course, Philip would not let go of the idea so easily, even though he left, probably to ask someone else.

Now Ezra approached, "It was he, you know," he also whispered, and Thomas nodded, with a significant look at Philip, with which Ezra concurred with a nod.

Jesus was saying, "You must sleep first. And perhaps think a bit on the morrow. We will take you home and then return for you, if you keep to your intention. I should tell you that the soldier will also return. He finds it difficult to believe that you will abandon your life."

"I cannot go back. I cannot."

"But you must assure yourself that this is not simply fatigue speaking. When you are fresh, it is possible you will see things in a different light."

"You should know I will not."

"Perhaps. But it is you who should be assured of it above all."

"Whatever you say. I know not even who I am now--or what. I know nothing."

Did any of us? thought John. But they seemed to be familiar with one another, beyond the short acquaintance John knew of. Interesting.

None of them, of course, made any attempt to speak to the tax-collector, and were murmuring softly among themselves; they were too stunned at this development. Tax-collectors were far worse than Samaritans, and "Samaritan" was often used by the Judeans as a curse, when they needed the worst insult they could make about someone. And now a tax-collector was to be one of them! An agent of Rome!

And who was this "friend" who needed to know about them? Someone in Judea, no less. Pontius Pilate? Was Jesus actually inviting a spy into their midst?

Jesus kept him by his side, gently supporting him as he stumbled along the seemingly interminable distance to his house, a sumptuous Roman-style villa (which caused even more remarks) with a fence around it and vicious dogs patrolling inside. No one dared to say anything openly, but it was clear what everyone was thinking. A drunk--at least, a former drunk--was one thing, but a traitor to the Judean people quite another, not to mention someone who bled the last drop from the people for his own gain in addition to Rome's! John thought, "Well, even if they find out what I am really like, I might not be the one they hold in most contempt now! At least, I might not." He himself was not ready to condemn this Levi, since Jesus evidently knew what was inside a person, as his mother had told John, and was aware that this dross could be transformed into gold--as John's own dross could be.

He hoped. Oh, how he hoped! And look at Thomas; he had evidently drunk nothing but water since he met Jesus--even the cup at the wedding-feast, John remembered with amusement. He seemed to be constantly teetering on the brink with his stroking of his little wine-skin, but he had not fallen over, just as John had not--yet--fallen. There was hope, if one trusted, apparently. Jesus was showing that he could transform more and more hopeless cases.

The man made some request of Jesus which no one heard; but Jesus stroked his beard and gave what seemed to be an affirmative answer.

After they left him, discussions kept going on in low tones among the students, while Jesus acted--of course--as if nothing unusual had happened. Thomas supposed he was giving them time to become resigned to the new situation--or to leave--because he was obviously in charge, and certainly acted as if he knew what he was about. As they began to go to their rest (which increasingly was in the fields or woods; there were more and more of them day by day), he even said, "I believe that we now will have the nucleus I was waiting for. We will see."

So John was right. This was the one he had been waiting for. And he had apparently waited until the moment of crisis, which had started in the synagogue, or whatever had happened to bring such a man there, and had reached its climax just as Jesus came up--just as John's despair with the net was the occasion for Jesus to call him.

But of course, his statement raised eyebrows. That a tax-collector, of all people, would not only be one of them, but part of the 'nucleus,' whatever it was, was going to take even more getting used to. John was already prepared, because of his "theory," but the others were profoundly shocked.

The next day, however, when they went in the morning to see this Levi, his slave came out and told them that he was still asleep, that he had been exhausted from the previous two days when he had had no sleep, and that he did not feel it right to wake him. Jesus seemed to be expecting it, and agreed to return on the morrow.

As they left, they noticed that the soldier also appeared, and, receiving the same message, reported something to the slave. Permission from higher authority? The "friend"?

So there would be a kind of spy among them. Of course, what had Jesus to hide? If he could overcome the difficulty of Roman occupation somehow, then doubtless he could do it in the open. Who knew? Perhaps he could change their way of thinking as well as that of the Judeans. If the whole world were to enter a new phase with lions lying down with lambs, then why not?

Of course, the little matter of the "friend" was not lost on Simon the Revolutionary, who expostulated at considerable length on the topic, certain that he was Pilate himself. He said to John that Jesus was "putting the whole enterprise in danger."

"If," answered John, "the 'whole enterprise' means rising up militarily against Rome."

"Well, what else could it be? The 'reign of God,' after all."

"A thousand things. But what would you, Simon? Would you prefer that there be a spy in our midst who (a) is known to be a spy, and (b) looks very much as if he is going to be loyal to us, or would you have one whom no one is aware of?"

"I would prefer to have none at all!"

"Of a certainty. But the question is whether Pontius Pilate would prefer that, as long as you have brought him up."

"His preferences are not worth a copper to me."

"Perhaps not, but he has been known to act upon his 'preferences.' And the type of spy he would select, if he were selecting one, would in my opinion likely be someone like yourself, who gave every appearance of being against him to disarm us."

"Are you accusing me of being a spy for Rome?"

John was about to make a hot reply, but at this point, Nathanael broke in, "Not at all, Simon. But John has a point. If Rome is interested in finding out what is going on among us (and I suspect they have more than a passing interest with the talk of the Reign of God), then we can live much more comfortably knowing who their liaison is than not."

The next day they returned, and Levi hobbled out, obviously still the worse for wear, and spoke sharply to the dogs, which only reluctantly gave up their desire to feast on the students, and returned growling to the back of the house while he approached the gate.

"You have returned to life on the third day, I see," said Jesus. John thought, "The third day?" "And in three days I will rebuild it." Did Jesus have a liking for three days--alluding perhaps to Jonah, who also "returned to life" on the third day? Was Jesus preparing the students--and the world--to accept something like this in his own case?

"If one can call it 'life,'" returned Levi. "I am as dead as I am alive."

"Ah, well, your new life is barely born, and you are still feeling the pains of the birth canal."

"I am feeling pains, truly," he returned.

"Do you still wish to follow me and learn from me?"

"I cannot see that I have any alternative. I am totally at a loss. I know not what you are; you are certainly not the one I once thought you to be. But you seemed to be saying that you could put back the pieces of me that have been scattered all over the ground."

So John was right; he seemed to have known Jesus earlier. Had Jesus done some carpentry work for him? It was possible. Someone had to have built this mansion, and who was there in this area but Jesus and his father to do the woodwork?

"Well, perhaps not put them back," Jesus was answering. "The self that you were is not something you are proud of and would have restored, is it not?"

"There is wisdom in that."

"That is why I said a new life has been born, if you would choose to live it. It is your choice, however."

"As I say, what choice do I have? I cannot go back, and I see no way forward. What would a tax-collector who renounced tax-collecting do? How would I live?"

"Well, you can try what I have to offer, and we will see."

"What I cannot understand is what possible use you could have for me, given what I am, in whatever it is you are doing."

"Ah, well if it comes to that, there are many things you could be useful for. You can read and write well, in several languages, and we know your skill with money. But that is beside the point, really. The point really is what can be done for a sheep that wandered off as a lamb and has fallen among wolves. The others, here, of course, are not quite convinced as yet that you are not really a wolf. They will learn."

So he knew other languages--of course he did. John wondered if he could prevail on him to teach him Greek. He would approach him later, and see if anything could be arranged.

"--find me not a very good companion in any case. I have been alone most of my life, and have forgotten how to act with others. Even my slave and I barely speak. I hope they will be able to make allowances, not only for what I was, but for what I am."

"It will be good for them, fear not." And he took him over to the group, which had gathered a little apart, murmuring to each other, and introduced him. He was obviously concentrated in memorizing faces and names. As he met a person with the same name as another, he looked into his face and then glanced over at the other of the same name. Clearly, this was a habit he had learned from his business as a tax-collector.

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