Twenty-Five

In other words, thought John, the Father and I are one and the same thing. He will have to say this explicitly some day; but it was clearly implied here. Life was beginning to get exciting, if not positively dangerous.

He was continuing, "--time is coming--has already arrived--when corpses will hear the voice of the Son of God and those who listen to it will live again. Just as the Father has eternal life in himself, he has given the Son the possession of eternal life in himself; and he has given him authority to judge because he is the Son of Man."

So he called himself the Son of God, and also the Son of Man; and he has the possession of eternal life in himself. So perhaps he is saying that we also will live forever once the Kingdom is inaugurated. He looked around and saw James, who nodded.

Now the crowd was buzzing. One said, "So this 'Son of Man' is now the 'Son of God,' is he?" Another chimed in, "And we are supposed to hear his voice from the grave and come out and walk around? Ridiculous!" The first said, "He certainly has a low opinion of himself, has he not?" A man standing in front of him turned around, and said, "Well, he did make a crippled man completely well with just a word. I saw it; he simply said, 'Stand up and walk,' and he did!"

"So?" said the first speaker. "Curing a disease is one thing. But this bringing the dead to life and claiming to be the Son of God is something else!"

"Be quiet! He is still speaking!"

"--were simply acting as a witness for myself, my testimony would be worthless. But there is someone else who has testified about me, and I know how solid his evidence about me is. You yourselves sent people to John, and he gave testimony that was true. I have no need of human testimony; I am saying this for you to be rescued. He was a burning, shining lamp, and you people found pleasure for a while in his light."

"Who is this 'John' he speaks of?" asked one. "You remember," was the answer. He was down at the Jordan, bathing everyone. Some thought he was Elijah come to life again, and announcing that the Prince God anointed had arrived." "Ah, and this one is saying he is the Prince!" "Well, he has not exactly said so as yet, but one can see where he is headed.""But of course, you see," said the one who had objected at first, "if he is the Prince, he is the son of David. But this one is calling himself the Son of the Master Himself!"

"--Father himself is a witness on my behalf--though you have never heard his voice or seen his form."

"You see?" said the objector, and then shouted at Jesus, "Neither have you, my friend!"

"--what he says has no home in you is clear from the fact that you do not believe in the one he sent. Search the Scriptures, since you think that there is where you will have eternal life. They are evidence about me. But you refuse to come to me and have life!"

"I find nothing about Nazareth and Galilee in the Scriptures!" said someone. "Why should I come to you?"

"I care nothing about what people think of me; but I know you; you do not have the love of God in you. I came in my Father's name, and you will not accept me. If someone else were to come in his own name, you would accept him. How can you believe me, if you simply take what everyone else thinks about a person and do not try to find out the opinion of the one true God?"

"Well, we certainly are not going to take the opinion of the one who is standing before us!" muttered a man standing next to Matthew and John. "His opinion of himself is a bit too exalted for a lowly Scripture scholar like myself to be able to agree with." Others were voicing similar sentiments, and they drowned out Jesus for a while.

He was going on, "--Moses, the one you set your hopes on. If you believed Moses, you would believe me, because he wrote about me. But if you will not believe what he wrote, how can you believe what I say?"

That apparently was the end of the controversy. No one came up to arrest Jesus. How could they? On what grounds? For saying something? Still, their hatred was palpable.

At this point, John, who knew that they were going to the home of this Lazarus, that evening, decided it might be opportune to take advantage of the lull to drop in on Annas--and Daniel.

He walked over to the High Priest's palace, pondering everything along the way. It seemed his idea of who Jesus was was being confirmed at every moment. His heart beat with excitement--and fear.

Some of the excitement--a mere sliver of it, but it was there--was the prospect of seeing Daniel again. He knocked.

"Yes?" said Hannah. "Oh! It is young John! Peace! How good to see you again!"

"Peace," answered John, and then said, "Especially since I no longer smell of fish."

She laughed. "That is right! I remember when you came here--it was all of a year ago, was it not? How time flies!"

"It does indeed."

"But I am sorry to say that the master is not here at the moment."

"A pity," said John. "Could you tell him I called?"

"I most certainly will. He will be delighted to hear it! Will you be staying in Jerusalem long? He should be back the day after tomorrow."

"I cannot say. As it happens, I have not a great deal of time. But I wonder if Daniel is here--and could spare me a minute or two."

"Oh, of course! You and he were great friends, I remember. Did you not wear a tunic of his once?"

"Yes, when you were washing the fish out of mine."

She laughed again. "I remember. It laundered well, thank the Master. But if you have not much time, come in and let me fetch Daniel."

John waited in one of the parlors, and before long Daniel entered. "John!" he exclaimed, and rushed over and embraced him.

A little longer than necessary.

John pulled himself away--gently. "The same old Daniel," he remarked, but in a friendly voice. He was not, truth be told, repulsed by the embrace.

And Daniel, as he backed away, said, "And the same old John."

They looked at each other for a few minutes, both a bit awkward, smiling, Daniel with a bit of The Smile. "But what have you been doing with yourself?" he asked. "Not fishing, evidently."

"No. It turns out I am a sort of apprentice prophet."

"Really? How does one become an apprentice prophet?"

"You see, the day I left here, I went down to the Jordan to hear this John who was bathing people."

"Ah, yes, I have heard of him. He is dead now, I think, murdered, if rumor is correct, by our beloved leader Herod."

"So I heard myself."

"If I recall the story, his wife's daughter danced so seductively to her father and his friends that he promised her whatever she asked, and she asked for John's head, which he gave to her. Fools, both of them!"

"Was that how it happened? How horrible!"

"That is what they say anyway. So you became his student?"

"Well, no. You see, he was announcing that the Prince was coming, and as it happened, he came while we were there, and he introduced him to us."

"Indeed!"

"In very truth. It was Jesus of Nazareth. You may have heard of him."

"Oh? I have heard the name. But I must say, I have had--shall I say conflicting--reports about him. Some say he is a miracle-worker, and others that he is a fraud and a blasphemer."

"So he already has that reputation, has he?"

"Well, you know how people are. You are his student."

"I am, and as to the miracle-worker aspect, he is certainly that. I saw him bring a dead man back to life."

"No!"

"With my own eyes. And it was no trick. We happened upon a funeral, and he stopped it, and put his hand on the man and told him to sit up, and he did."

"You will forgive me, I hope, if I seem a bit skeptical."

"I can see why you might be. But I saw it, and I have no reason to believe that he had ever seen the woman or the man--the boy, really--before. Both of them are among us now."

"Well, if you say so."

"And not only that, but now he has sent us to go about announcing a change in our way of thinking, because the world is about to be transformed. And I myself have performed cures; I even drove a demon out of a man in his name. I was terrified, but he went out."

"You realize that all this is a bit much to take in all at once, do you not?"

"I was reminded of you when it happened, in fact, because just before the demon went out, he said, 'John, is it? We know a few things about you, my friend. Shall I tell the people?' That was what terrified me."

"You mean, what passed between us? But my dear John, you know that nothing whatever happened except that you were virtuous--according to your lights, at least. You have not been, shall I say, indulging yourself with others, have you? If so, I shall be most indignant!" And most pleased, thought John.

"No. Nothing has happened. But--"

"I understand. But you would like something to have happened. Even with me, I gather. Well, that is some comfort."

"The point is that you know what it would sound like if some devil 'revealed' it."

"Now that you mention it, I can imagine. It would not be a very good advertisement for a student of a holy rabbi. How did you handle it?"

"Oh, I simply told him to be silent in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, and to go out of the man. And he did."

"In truth? That is amazing! Apparently demons are more afraid of the name than you were of the revelation. Astounding, in fact."

"He is authentic, Daniel."

"I can certainly understand why you think so. It is just that we heard some stories about a speech or sermon he gave that was full of nonsense, from the reports we got."

"Yes, well I was there also, and when you analyze it, it turns out that it is anything but nonsense. But discussing it would take hours, and I simply wanted to see you, because I told you I would drop in when and if I came to Jerusalem. This is not really the place or time for me to try to make a convert. But let me just counsel you to keep an open mind."

"I will certainly do that. But it will be open to all sides, you know."

"I could not ask for more. And I will pray for you, Daniel."

"And I will pray for you also. Though I have a suspicion that I need the prayers more than you."

"If you knew! But it was a great pleasure to see you."

"The pleasure is mine, my very good friend. And remember, if you ever change your mind, I am still your very good friend."

"I think--I hope--that will never happen. But peace. I must go."

"Peace, then." And John turned and left, pleased and excited to have seen Daniel again, and rather troubled by his pleasure and excitement. He had not thought Daniel was as attractive as he now found him.

Oh, well. Nothing had happened.

"But I left the door open," he said to himself as he went down the road to Bethany, about an hour's walk away. He had learned where Lazarus's house was, and found it with no difficulty. His host greeted him in a friendly, if a bit distant, manner. He was, John knew, a banker, whom Jesus had met through his sister, and he seemed extremely fastidious; his robes were impeccable, and his manners elegant, and John discovered on observation that he seemed to tolerate Jesus as one would a clown, for his entertainment-value. His sister, however, was the picture of sincere cordiality.

Martha and Matthew were engaged in a rather extended conversation. Lazarus, when he heard that Matthew had been a tax-collector, almost lost his demeanor as a host, and proceeded, after barely acknowledging his existence, to keep himself to the other side of the room. John wondered what he would do with Thomas, if he found out he had been a drunk. Or with John himself if some demon revealed what they evidently knew.

"Yes, he is amazing, is he not?" Martha was saying to Matthew. She swelled with pride. "I persuaded Lazarus to invite him to dine whenever he is in Judea, and he comes! And he has told me," she lowered her voice confidentially, "that he will find my sister for me and bring her back, if she is willing; or if not, will give me news of her!"

"Your sister has been lost?"

"These many years. We lost her, I remember, the day our rabbi's house burned down and his poor, dear crippled wife died in the fire. He has not been the same since, poor man. Nor have we, because of our sister. We searched and searched, but never found a trace of her. But I cannot believe that she is dead, and the Master has all but confirmed it!"

"I am sorry for the loss."

"But do not be. The Master will see to it that everything will be explained and turn out well."

"Well I hope for your sake that it happens."

"Oh, it will happen. I am sure of it."

They had a very elaborate dinner, with Lazarus giving all his attention to Jesus, clearly to avoid looking at, and still more conversing with, anyone else. He obviously endured all this for two reasons: because his sister insisted, and because he suspected that Jesus might turn out to be famous, and it might be politic to have him as a friend.

After the dinner, they were seated about, talking, and Jesus said, "This banquet made me think of a story." (He had lately begun speaking more often analogies and stories.) "There once was a rich man who wore richly dyed clothes of the finest linen, and who dined sumptuously every day. A poor man named Lazarus--" he glanced over at Lazarus, in his richly-dyed linen robe, "--with a body full of pustules, used to lie by his gate, hoping to feed off what had been left on the rich man's plates. Even the dogs would come and lick his sores." Lazarus made a face at the image.

"Finally the poor man died and was carried by angels to the place of honor in Abraham's banquet," At this, Lazarus' began to take notice. "And the rich man died too and was buried.

"He looked up from the land of the dead where he was suffering, and saw Abraham a long way off, and Lazarus next to him at the banquet.

"'Father Abraham!' he shouted. 'Be kind to me! Tell Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and come here to cool my tongue; I am in agony in these flames!'

"'Son,' said Abraham, 'remember: you had your good time while you were alive, and Lazarus had as bad a time. Now he is the one who has comfort, and you who suffer. Besides, there is a huge chasm set between all of you and us, and so not even anyone who wanted to go from here to you could manage it, and no one can pass from there to here.'

"'Then please, Father,' he said, 'send someone to my father's house--I have five brothers--and warn them not to let themselves come to this place of torture!'

"'They have Moses and the prophets,' said Abraham. 'They must listen to them.'

"'They will not, father Abraham, but if someone were to come back to them from the grave, they would change heart.'

"He answered, 'If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, they will not believe it if a dead person comes back to life.'"

This sent a shock through John. If he really was killed and really planned to bring himself back to life, then would even that be of no avail? It certainly sounded like it.

Of course, the whole meaning of the story was completely lost on Lazarus. He was saying to a friend, "You see how he is? He tells these stories that do not have an atom of sense to them, and has everyone enthralled. Fascinating! I was hoping something like this would happen, to show you what he is like!"

"You took no offense that he used your name?" The friend, who obviously had caught the meaning of the story, was struggling to say something polite.

"Offense? I am flattered! I have never heard him use a name in his stories before; and after all, he put me in the place of honor beside Abraham himself!"

"To be sure he did," said the friend. "Yes, I suppose he did. Of course--"

"Oh, now, do not go trying to make sense of it! He simply tells these things to amuse himself. And he amuses me also, since I see everyone racking their brains trying to plumb the profound meaning behind his stories, and there is no meaning; it is all a game of his!"

"If you say so."

"Believe me, it is true. I have known him for quite some time, and he says the most outrageous things to shock people, but he is quite harmless, really. Once one sees this, it is a delight to be with him."

John wondered what kind of a miracle--for it certainly would be a miracle--was going to be needed to shake Lazarus's idiotic complacency and make him recognize the truth. Because he was not one of the ill-disposed; he was simply a fool, and clearly he was Jesus's friend. Jesus no doubt tolerated him for a reason similar to the one for which he tolerated Jesus: others took him deadly seriously, and either loved him or hated him violently. It was refreshing, no doubt, to find someone who enjoyed him as entertaining.

But what was the meaning of the story and his prediction of being captured and killed? thought John.

There was some hope, even in that case, was there not? Presumably those who would listen to Moses and the prophets would believe, and that was most of the well-intentioned. He thought of Daniel with his "open mind."

But on the other hand, what of the transformation of the world? Perhaps it would mean that the Reign of God would not begin, because he would be rejected as king. What else could it mean, if he was to be captured by the authorities and killed? And so then what?

John could not believe that everything would be a total failure. The well-disposed would be saved--from their sins, perhaps--and rewarded somehow--by eternal life?--and the others would--what? Die in their sins? Not live forever?

Or perhaps--

Jesus was intimating that, because of the perverseness of the people--and John had seen examples of it in the crowds as Jesus spoke--he would fail in his mission of changing the world and restoring the state before Adam's sin.

But still, God could not fail. Not really. And did not the same Isaiah who prophesied about the lions and lambs prophesy about the Servant who was to suffer and bear our sins?

Perhaps he was telling what could happen, and yet was also saying what would happen, if he failed. But could God fail?

Could he? But it would not be God but we who failed.

But why would he even try, if he knew it was futile?

No, it must be that there was salvation at least for those willing to listen, and presumably eternal life, at least for them. That was no failure.

Was it?

Was it not?

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