Five

Once we arrived in Galilee, several things of interest happened. We passed through Capernaum, by the "sea," and people who had seen Jesus in Jerusalem began to gather to be cured by him; and, as he had done there, he cured many sick and even possessed, by a single touch--or sometimes a mere word.

Then he decided that it would be good for him to go to his home town of Nazareth. It was night when he made the decision, and he arrived there before dawn--as apparently he planned, since he did not want to be mobbed by the people there, but to make a formal entrance, so to speak. He simply visited his sick father and his mother, who was staying up during the night watching over him. They quietly greeted each other, and spoke a bit to the father, while we waited at a discreet distance.

Then around dawn, he went into the synagogue, shortly before the morning service was about to begin, and spoke briefly to the rabbi there, who was waiting outside.

Then, shortly after dawn, Jesus entered the synagogue, where the men were gathering to pray. We students stood at the back, John, I noticed, very near a man in quite expensive clothing, but who seemed to have been rolling in the dirt, and who also appeared as if he had been in a fight and had not slept all night. As we came in, he looked as if he were trying to escape, but was trapped by the crowd, and cowered in the back.

Jesus went up to the front, and the rabbi, knowing that he wished to speak, asked him to do so. He requested the scroll of Isaiah, which he unrolled until he found the place he wished.

"We have as a guest today," said the rabbi, "Jesus, someone doubtless all of you know." Then Jesus began to read: "The Master's spirit is upon me," he said, "and this is why he has anointed me to report the good news to the poor. He has given me a proclamation to deliver: one of freedom for prisoners of war, of new sight for the blind; he has told me to set broken people free and announce a year of the Master's favor."

A Messianic text. I had read it many times, but now it had a whole new meaning. Interestingly, as Jesus read, "set broken people free," he looked up, almost at John, but then clearly to the man beside him, who was a "broken person" if ever there was one.

The black man, Ezra, who had a knack for not being conspicuous despite his striking appearance, took note of this, and quietly edged over behind the man.

Jesus rolled up the scroll and handed it to the attendant, and sat back down. Every eye in the synagogue fastened upon him.

"Today," Jesus began, "that passage is being fulfilled as you listen to it," and someone whispered, "What is he trying to say?"

"Evidently," was the whispered answer, "he thinks that he is the Master's Anointed."

"Who, that man? But is he not the Jesus who is Joseph's son? The carpenter? What is he doing here acting like a rabbi?"

"Acting like a rabbi! He is acting as if he were the Prince who was prophesied to become David's successor!"

"Does he think we know him not? We know his father and mother and all his relatives! Why, he has lived here his whole life! Does he expect us to believe he suddenly came down from heaven or something?"

But others began recounting what had happened in Jerusalem and Capernaum, and the murmuring grew louder, and Jesus lifted up his hand, and said, mildly, but in a voice that could clearly be heard through the whole synagogue, "I know. You are all quoting me the proverb, 'Doctor, cure yourself. Do here in your own town what we have heard you do in Capernaum.'"

Here some whispered, "What? Has he done something in Capernaum?"

"They say he has cured many of all kinds of diseases, and--"

"How? Has he discovered some new medicine?"

"No, he does it with a mere word, they say."

"Nonsense!"

"--accepted in his own land," Jesus was saying. "There were many, many widows in Israel during Elijah's time--this is true, what I am saying--when the sky was shut for three years and six months, and a great famine spread through the whole country. But Elijah was not sent to any one of them; he went to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. And there were many lepers in Israel during the time of the prophet Elisha; but it was Naaman the Syrian, not one of them, who was cured."

Jesus clearly did not yet have the knack of ingratiating himself with his audience. And they reacted accordingly.

"Do you hear that?"

"He is as much as saying that we are not worthy of his consideration!"

"Who does he think he is?"

"Well I will show him who he really is!" And the crowd surged forward grasping Jesus, pulling him out of the building, clearly intending to take him to the cliff outside the town to throw him over.

I was about to enter the fray to rescue Jesus, when suddenly everyone began milling about. "Where is he?" everyone was saying. "Who had him?" "He was here but a moment since!" "Who let him go?" They were all furious in their frustration, but it gradually dawned on them that there was nothing to be done. Jesus was simply not there. They began to disperse, shaking their heads.

The "broken man" made his escape during the confusion, and hid, I noticed, behind a bush, followed by Ezra, who seemed to be making himself his shadow.

After a while Ezra returned to Thomas, whom he had befriended, 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. He made me jump. He seemed to appear from nowhere. "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."

This was a development. It rather looked as if Jesus would not be captured or harmed if he did not wish to be--which might explain why he did not particularly concern himself with antagonizing people, and could simply speak the truth without bothering with diplomacy and the consequences of what he said. If someone tried to do anything to him, he would just not be there.

On the other hand, it made my task that much more complicated, since even though he could not be harmed by anyone against his will--if what we saw was any indication--it did not follow that he did not create enemies, which would make difficult if not impossible the "change in the way of thinking" that he was tying to accomplish. People who have been thwarted do not make good listeners.

Connected with this was also the fact that the "broken man" had disappeared with him, and had not reappeared. He had evidently spirited him off somewhere; but where? And would we see him again? I was inclined to think so, since he was to "set broken people free." Yes, we would meet him again, and perhaps soon.

Jesus, acting as if nothing unusual had happened, gathered us and led the way back down to the lake--and another interesting aspect of this was that no one noticed us either, who were a relatively large group. So he apparently could protect his followers as he was able to protect himself.

But when one thought about this, in all probability he did not actually have to disappear, but simply misdirect people's attention. In any case, people would not see or notice where he and those he wished not to be seen were.

The students, of course, 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, rather astutely, "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."

Precisely, I thought. There would have to be a progression of more and more spectacular cures accompanied by more and more detailed sermons, to that the cures would be taken to verify the truth of what he was saying. I suggested as much to Jesus, and he simply nodded, as if to say, "Obviously. Be patient."

All of us spent the day discussing these events, without much success; and Jesus passed the time in curing those who came up to him. Toward evening, he led us up to a river ford, at which there was a tax-collector's booth, where behold! 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 seemed 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 thus 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.

So now we were not only to have an ex-drunk, but presumably an ex-tax-collector as one of our group. Jesus evidently thought nothing of the adage that "a man is known by the company he keeps" though I was certain that many of what would have formed his audience from now on would advert to it, and distance themselves from him.

It was interesting. He clearly had no interest in being popular, but in doing what he considered the right thing--in this case rescuing a tax-collector from a life of what amounted to crime, however legal it might have been. The man had evidently had some kind of experience the night before we found him in the synagogue, which made him change completely his way of looking on himself. And this was reinforced by his expression just before we met him at the tax-collector's booth. He seemed to have been considering whether to kill himself or to go on with what he had been doing for years; it had become, for some reason, intolerable to him. And now Jesus was going to take him away from this and make him into one of his lieutenants.

And, when one thought of it, he might be useful at that. He was clearly skilled in keeping accounts (as I was not), and almost certainly spoke Greek and probably Latin as well as Aramaic, and doubtless could write well in these languages also. If he were to "change his way of thinking" he would certainly be an addition to our group, far more promising than any of the others except myself.

There was a soldier standing by, and he and the two assistants came up to the man, while Jesus said to the soldier, (in Latin, I noticed, though no one else seemed to) "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 the fool came up to Thomas, and whispered, "Was he not in the synagogue this morning?" and Thomas, who evidently had also seen him there, had probably decided that this should not be bruited about, said, replied, "I know not. The synagogue?" This did not satisfy Philip, who went to someone else for confirmation.

Now Ezra, who saw him, approached Thomas, and also whispered, "It was he, you know," 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." That was interesting. This did not seem the first time Levi had met Jesus. Perhaps he had done some carpentry work for him in the past. If so, the transformation of Jesus into the Son of Thunder must have been a hundred times greater than whatever it was that Levi had undergone.

"Perhaps," answered Jesus. "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."

No one made any attempt to speak to this Levi. A tax-collector, of course, was considered the worst of the worst--if anything, worse than a prostitute, let alone a drunk, because everyone thought of tax-collectors as traitors as well as thieves. All we would need, it would seem, would be a reformed prostitute and our coterie would be complete.

It was only I, who had an open mind, who could see that the qualities that made one a successful tax-collector--which included a kind of blind obedience to the dictates of Jerusalem and Rome--would be tremendous assets, if the "change of one's way of thinking" could be guaranteed. And it seemed to me that Jesus had already done most of this.

There was also this allusion, spoken ironically, to a "friend" who would be glad to have eyes an ears in our entourage. Who could this be but Pontius Pilate himself? I am willing to wager that Levi had some connection that could be designated a "friendship" with him.

But he had to be a "friend" that Levi had somehow escaped from. Evidently, Pilate, if I am right, thought of him as a friend, but Levi knew that he might as well be a slave. Perhaps he even was a runaway slave whom Pilate had found through something that the soldier had discovered.

So in himself he was an addition to our group, and to boot could possibly be a kind of liaison to the Roman occupiers, which Jesus would need if he was to move from being King of Judea to being King of the world. But this is all pure speculation, of course. We will see.

Levi whispered something private to Jesus, and Jesus stroked his beard, and seemed to assent to whatever the request was. Interesting.

We went with him to his Roman-style mansion, which was as sumptuous as one would expect--except that it had a bronze fence around the treeless grounds, which were patrolled by vicious dogs. He quieted them down, and we they left him, after which discussions kept going on in low tones among us, while Jesus acted in his typical fashion as if nothing unusual had happened. As we began to go to rest (which increasingly was in the fields or woods; there were more and more of us day by day), he even said, "I believe that we now will have the nucleus I was waiting for. We will see." Aha!

The next day, however, when we 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"?

Of course, the little matter of the "friend" was not lost on Simon the Revolutionary, who expostulated at considerable length on the topic, certain--as I was--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."

Nathanael had a brain.

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