Twelve

The dinner at Lazarus's house was, of course, a farce, Jesus making it even more so with a story he told about a rich man and a beggar he named "Lazarus." The implication was pellucid: that the rich who paid attention to nothing but their own comfort in this world were in serious peril--but since Jesus had called the "hero," who was poor, "Lazarus," Lazarus was flattered that he was taken to Abraham's bosom, and it was the rich man who was tormented for eternity. I heard him actually praising Jesus for his stories "that did not have an atom of sense in them," which he only told for his own amusement. If Jesus was hopeless because he was mad, Lazarus was hopeless because he was an idiot.

There was one interesting thing. At the end of the story, Jesus had Abraham there was this little exchange between Abraham and the rich man in torment, "'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.'" Obviously, Jesus was saying that if he came back to life "on the third day" as he predicted, it would make no difference to those who "refused to change their way of thinking." He knew those he was dealing with, and that even if he returned to life, his mission of changing the world was doomed.

Interesting. If Jesus did somehow come back to life "on the third day," would I then believe that he was God? The one whose name we do not pronounce? Impossible, even then!

Of course, all of this flew completely over Lazarus's head. All in all, I was supremely gratified when we finally left. Lazarus was insufferable.

On our way back to Galilee, we passed through Sychar once again, and the people welcomed Jesus, though he did not stay with them.

And when we reached Mount Tabor, Jesus told us to wait at the foot, and climbed the mountain himself with the Rock, (who looked more and more like a loyal Lazarus, to me), James, and John.

Something happened on that mountain, but the three who went up with Jesus were totally silent about it. The Rock said that they were not to speak of it until--"something happens, which I do not understand." Clearly, Jesus had somehow shown himself to be Godlike; the Force had revealed itself in him or through him visibly. And the "something" which was to happen must be the death and return to life on the third day. Why they must not mention it until then must be because no one would believe the mere recounting of it until then (when they could see the "divine work" for themselves). The fact that this happened earlier, and quite clearly had terrified the three onlookers would give more force to the "divine nature" of Jesus when he reappeared from death.

--Except to those who still could think. Perhaps I could persuade them somehow not to give in to appearances, but to think.

Shortly after their return, there was an incident of a man whose son had a demon, which Nathanael, the coward, could not exorcize. Jesus, of course, took care of it, and all was well--except for Nathanael, of course.

Shortly afterward, as we walked along, by ourselves for a change, since the crowds realized they we gone to Judea and were not expecting them back as yet, we paused, and Jesus, who was acting as if nothing had happened on the mountain, told them, "Attend carefully to this: The Son of Man is going to be surrendered into human hands, and they will kill him; and on the third day after that, he will return to life."

A second time. For some reason, what had happened made the death more certain. And I heard Ezra say to Thomas, "Does it not remind you of something?"

"Not offhand. What?" Thomas, like the rest of them, was too upset to remember much of anything.

"'Destroy this temple and in three days I will rebuild it."

A light dawned. "Of a certainty! So you think he is referring to actually being killed and returning to life 'on the third day,' as he says here."

"It sounds very much like it."

"Ezra, what will I do? What will we all do?"

"Trust, I suppose."

Matthew came over to Thomas, and spoke to him. I had explained what I thought about Jesus to Thomas, who at least listened to what I said, but when he got to the part of Jesus's being under a "delusion," Matthew remarked, loud enough to be overheard, "A delusion! If there ever was anyone who did not suffer from delusions, it is the Master!"

That, of course, was the difficulty. Jesus was so self-confident that it was harder to believe that he was under a delusion than that he was in fact God-making-himself-finite. Thomas answered, "You must question Judas about it. He has a whole theory worked out--which I confess I do not subscribe to."

John, who was nearby, heard also. He seemed relieved by Thomas's response. And it must be remembered that he had seen whatever happened on the mountain. Still, as a frantic Nathanael suddenly came up, obviously looking for someone to talk to, and said, "Do you have any idea about what this means? About being killed, I mean." John answered, "I understand nothing of it! I hope and hope that it is some kind of figure of speech, but if it is, I cannot imagine what it means. I know not, Nathanael."

"And--I know that you cannot speak of what happened on the mountain, but did that help in this?"

"Not at all. If anything, it made it very unlikely. But I cannot say that it made it impossible! I know nothing! Nothing!" John, as I said, had a brain. Perhaps I could do something with him. Well, we would see.

The next day, we crossed the huge Lake of Gennesareth for some reason, this time all of us in Simon Rock's boat, which his father lent him for the day; it was large enough so that all twelve of them fit comfortably on benches on the sides (the center was for practical purposes empty for the casks that held the fish they had caught in water until they reached the shore). Jesus sat on the bench in the stern, which had a cushion on it, making it a kind of couch, and then, saying he would take a bit of a rest, lay down and fell asleep, his head near Nathanael, who was on the side toward the stern. John and James were at the oars, and John was on the side looking at Nathanael, and was rather amused to see him gripping the gunwale with white knuckles. Obviously, Nathanael was not a paragon of fearlessness; he was trying, but not terribly successfully.

They looked up at the sky, which suddenly began to darken, as was apt to happen in that time of year; and then the rain came and the lightning, and the wind blew a ferocious gale, and the boat rocked fiercely. I was not afraid, of course. Not that I would have been afraid in any case, but the Master would not let anything happen to the boat while he was in it, whether he was awake or asleep. The Force would not permit it.

But it terrified Nathanael, who now held on to the gunwale at the side and the stern, praying that Jesus would waken and steady the boat somehow. But he slept on.

Finally, water began slopping over the sides, and two of the men who were not rowing began bailing. It seemed to be getting worse and worse, and Jesus slept on.

Nathanael could bear it no longer, and in panic, he cried out to Jesus, "Master, does it not bother you that we are going to drown?"

Jesus woke, looked out at the storm, and said, "Be quiet! Calm yourself!"

And suddenly, the wind dropped and all was still.

And so the Force coursing through Jesus's soul was the Force that created the universe. He could make even the winds and the sea obey him. But the question was, could it bring him back from death? That it could prevent him from dying, I was certain. In Nazareth, he had simply disappeared from those who would kill him. But if he let himself be killed, and was no longer the living Jesus, but a corpse like any other, then would the Force revive him? As his soul left him, the Force would have left the corpse also.

Jesus looked at Nathanael, and with a mock-stern voice, but a smile on his face, said, "Why did you doubt, you people who have so little faith?"

"What sort of a man is this?" said James to John, who was beside him at the oars, as they looked up at the blue sky. "Even the wind and the sea obey him!"

But there was more. On the shore we reached, there was another madman, this one naked, full of cuts and scrapes, with fetters and chains that he had broken. He ran up screaming in that demonic voice, "What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torture me!"

"What is your name?" said Jesus.

"Legion. There are many of us. Please, please do not send us away into the abyss!"

Nathanael cowered to the back of the group, as one would expect. Jesus just stood there calmly as the demons pleaded and begged for mercy. He was looking around.

His eyes lighted on a herd of hogs grazing next to a nearby cliff overlooking the lake. The man saw where he was looking, and the demon inside him pleaded, "Please! Send us into the pigs! Let us enter them!"

"You may go," said Jesus and with a roar, they left and the hogs suddenly went wild. The whole herd rushed around for a moment, and then threw itself over the cliff into the water and drowned.

Everyone looked on in shock, even I. It was terrifying that multiple demons could be in a person! The swineherds, who of course were Gentiles, looked over the cliff at the destruction, and ran off. Jesus, meanwhile, asked if someone had an extra cloak and tunic, and covered the naked man, with whom he began a one-sided conversation. It was clear that the man, though no longer insane, was so horrified at what had happened that he could not speak more than a word or two. Jesus was trying to reassure him. Then, when the townsfolk came up, they cried, "Leave us! Leave us! Have mercy!" looking on the madman with fear.

"Master, will you leave?" he said. "May I go with you?"

"No, my friend. Go back to your home, and explain to everyone what God has done for you." And we returned to the boat, crossing over to Capernaum. Jesus looked at Nathanael and smiled an amused smile.

We had thought of casting out demons as an interesting display of our power. What we had not reckoned with was their power. It was sobering, to say the least. I was fortunate in that I was confident that no demon could get possession of me.

That evening, as we walked along the road near Magdala by the "Sea" of Galilee, Jesus suddenly shouted "Stop!" at a woman who had just emerged from the shadows, and looked as if she might fall off the cliff.

There was a brief pause, where everything was frozen, and then the woman said, in a rasping man's voice, "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? She is ours!" Another one! This time a woman!

It seemed as if I knew her. . . .Who could it have been? Perhaps from years ago--Of course! That innocent face shining through the demonic voice! That was the young girl who had seduced me years ago in the very Temple! She acted like a young saint who had been wronged, and then she said she could "show me" what had happened, and we went into a room together--and she was so incredibly beautiful! I was completely swept out of my mind!

And when it was over, the she-fiend screamed, "You are as bad as he was! I came to you for help, and look! All you men are the same! I hate you all! You have ruined me!"

And, of course, weeks later, when I could think, I realized that she was the one who had ruined me! But I could not get her out of my thoughts, for over a year, I remember. And I searched and searched for her "to explain things," but really, I finally realized, to be with her again--but she had disappeared. Thank God! If I had seen her again, I would have been totally insane!

And here she was! And apparently, possessed by seven devils! She was as attractive as ever, but the diabolical voice coming from her mouth provided something of an antidote.

The woman slowly approached Jesus, as if she were being dragged toward him.

" µ !" she said in that same male voice, and Jesus snapped, "Be silent! You will answer only when spoken to, no more; you will speak the truth for once, and only in Aramaic." She had said, "Have mercy on me, Son of the Most High God!" So the demon--or demons--knew who Jesus thought he was.

"Yes, Master. Good master," answered the voice. The woman began groveling in the dust like a dog awaiting punishment.

"Refrain from calling me good." barked Jesus. "What do you know of good? How many are you?"

"We are seven, Master, only seven." Only seven! Of course, if she had been practicing the wiles she tried on me, then there was opportunity for another legion, in all these years!

"Does she know you?"

"Oh, yes, merciful Master. She invited--" "You lie."

She cringed and groveled again in the dirt of the roadway, "It was not truly a lie, merciful Master. She did not refuse us--"

"I will engage in no disputations with you. Is she listening now? Can she hear us?"

"Yes, Master."

"She is to know how you entered her. Explain it."

"As I said, Master, she did not refuse us. It was our right, and we were not forbidden, as happens so often with us. She--"

"Stop! In your description of how you entered her, you are to speak in such a way that she alone will understand what you did to her. These others need not know--and are not to know--what she did."

"But it was her cursing God that opened the door. We could not have entered without it, Master. You know that."

"Let that suffice. What she had done and what had happened to induce her to curse God is not to be mentioned. Continue."

So she cursed God. As a matter of fact, I believe she did so during that tirade after our sin. And it allowed the demon--at least the first one--to enter.

"--you tell her?" Jesus was saying.

"Only that she was evil, something that she knew very well, most merciful Master, and whether she wanted to learn what evil really was, so that she could understand what had happened to her."

"As if, in other words, it meant that she would understand the evil that had been done to her, not in what way she herself was evil."

"It could have been interpreted in that way, one supposes."

"One supposes! You knew perfectly well that that would be the only way in which she would interpret it."

"You know, trebly merciful Master, that we cannot be certain of such things."

"I will play no games with you. We both know what you knew and how well you knew it. So she accepted having you enter in order to discover exactly how she had been wronged."

"But she did accept, Master, and so she must have at least suspected the truth and been willing to accept that, because in fact we were allowed to enter, and you know that we cannot enter a person who has been totally deceived. Why do you torment us in this way?"

"You would speak to me of tormenting someone? But is it not the case that the 'knowledge' you gave her of the malice and deceit of others was in fact your malice and deceit--it had no relation to reality?"

"Master, merciful Master, you know that sometimes it was true--often and often it was true! Spare us!"

"But when it was true, it was true by accident. Is it not so that she thought it was true, not because of something she discovered, but because you made her believe it true, whatever the facts happened to be."

The demon in the woman answered, "I cannot lie, Master. I admit that."

"You cannot lie!" scoffed Jesus. "You! You cannot lie to me, certainly, because I know the truth beforehand. I say this, however, so that she will understand that you have been lying to her from the beginning, and so that she will no longer trust anything she thought she knew up to now."

The demon continued protesting, but Jesus finally broke in, "Be silent. I would speak to her now. Allow her to speak."

The woman looked up from the dust of the roadway, with her hand clutching convulsively at a root that grew across a rut. She saw Jesus's face and shrieked in terror. She looked as if she had just peered into the pit of hell.

He reached down and touched her back, and she seemed to change. Her eyes went down to the ground before her face once again; and she fought to keep her gaze fixed there, but in spite of herself, she found herself being raised to her feet by his hand, and standing up. Then she looked at herself, seeming to realize how she must appear, with her eyes modestly cast down in front of everyone like a repentant sinner, and suddenly tilted her head back and stared defiantly straight into the eyes of Jesus. I marveled at her temerity, even knowing what she was. Clearly, the devils themselves could not do it.

"Do you understand your situation?" he asked calmly, and she reacted at first as though he had stung her; but then immediately regained he insolent expression. She was still strikingly beautiful, in spite of the dust and the state of her clothes.

Jesus looked at her, not paying attention to her obvious attitude, but simply waiting for an answer, which took a long time before she nodded.

"Do you wish to be freed from them?" came the question.

Again she paused, and a shudder ran through her body. She looked as if in spite she was going to give a flippant answer; but she was looking into his face, and evidently realized that this would not be acceptable.

"I wish to die," she answered, and added in a voice of scorn, "Master." As he opened his mouth to speak, she drew in her breath in terror.

But he merely said, "That is not for me to grant you now. Do you wish to be free of the demons within you?"

Again a very long pause, and then her face changed from considering the question, and she glanced at Jesus with fear and scorn.

"They are lying to you once again," he said. "If I free you, I will send you from me; and you may stay away if you wish. In fact, I will not permit you to return before sunset tomorrow, so that you will have time to consider your life and what you truly want for yourself."

"You will not be doing me a favor."

"Possibly not."

"Then why do you torment me? You have the power. Why do you not simply do it?"

"Because it is your life, not mine."

"And therefore, I must decide! Then accept my hate and do it! I care nothing for what may happen! Do it!"

Next