Sixteen

She was silent, thinking over all that had happened to her, and Thomas also could find nothing to say. It could not have happened, of course. Of course it could not have happened. But why should he doubt it? She clearly did not. And he did remove the curse from Thomas, and he did change ordinary water into excellent wine--except in one case--and Thomas knew this of his own experience. But still . . . Do such things really happen? Can they? And if they did! The Son of God! The Son of the Hebrew God, not some Jupiter! The mind boggled! It could not be!--And yet, he did change ordinary water into wine, that very day--and water cannot become wine.

But what was frightening was that he wanted Thomas to be his follower in announcing the Kingdom! And he evidently wanted him to know what he had just been told so that Thomas would understand who he was, and that he would not be merely speaking poetically. And perhaps give Thomas the notion that he could do what Jesus wished in spite of his incapacity for any such thing. The restoration of a world in which there was no destruction or pain? No one--short of Isaiah, perhaps--had ever even dreamed of anything similar! It could not be! But water cannot become wine.

"So you see," she said, "if I were you--I know you are probably inclined to be skeptical--but if I were you, I would take what Jesus says a good deal more literally than most. He has expressly told me that he wishes this. I have given you reason to do so. He tends to speak in metaphors, but often what he says is quite straightforward. It will only seem to be poetic because it sounds so fantastic. But everything about him is fantastic. I myself have trouble when I ask myself, 'How can all this really be happening?' I can imagine the difficulty you and the others must have.

"There is one thing," she said musingly after another short pause, "that I found very strange, but I think it is relevant. I, of course, expected him to be like me, and was startled when he caught his first cold. And he would cut himself if a knife slipped, just like any other child. How could the Son of my Lord and me be--how shall I say it?--a lesser being than I was? I could not ask him for years, since it turned out that he had to learn--almost like any other child. No, he did not know everything beforehand, but he seemed to recognize things when he heard or saw them. We would tell him something new, and his eyes would light up as if to say, 'Ah, yes, that is what it is!'

"But shortly before he left us, we were speaking of the prophesies, and of his ambitions for our people and the world, and I asked him about me and him, and he said, 'It is because, Madam, all this will happen only if I am accepted as King--or at least, it will happen as I have spoken of it. And I am as I am and not as you are, because it had to be possible for me to be rejected. And in the event that I am rejected--" and a great sadness came into his eyes as he stared into the future-- "I must be able to be harmed, because the world will have to be saved in a different, and I am afraid, probably very painful way, both for me and for you--but also for the world and everyone in it. If the world rejects me, it will still be redeemed, because God does nothing in vain, and man cannot ultimately thwart God's love, and for the sake of those who love me in the world there will be a redemption; but suffering will not be abolished until the very end.'

"' But as to you,' he said, 'you see, you are the new Eve, and you had to be as you are so that when your test came, you would be as absolutely free as she was, to make the choice that would undo what she did, so that I could undo what Adam did. Your choice was to be or not be the mother of the world's redeemer. And you passed your test admirably. But that means that you share with me the restoration of the world, whatever form that restoration takes. It is possible for the Kingdom to be established. Very, very difficult, but possible. It depends on what people choose.'

"And a chill ran through me, because when we went to the Temple when he was an infant, that prophet who took him looked at me and said, 'And a sword will pierce your own soul.'"

Thomas said after a while, "If the restoration of the Kingdom depends on what people choose, I would say that it is far from likely, and that the prophesy is closer to what will happen."

"I am afraid I share your opinion, Thomas," she answered. "But we must wait and see. --But people will be wondering where I was; we spent more time here than I intended." And she rose, and nodding to him, went back inside.

Thomas remained there for a considerable time, musing without really forming a coherent thought, occasionally sipping at his cup of water, when Ezra came and sat beside him.

"Aha!" said Thomas. "Ezra the Observer once again. Did you hear?"

"Fear not, Thomas," he answered. "Anything that was said is safe with me. And I cannot believe that he did not know what you and she were saying, and that I was on the other side of the vine. I saw you two leave together, and I thought it might be significant. It certainly was significant!"

"And no one--except him, of course--noticed you?"

"No one. I never cease to marvel at it. But I have concluded that it is not really that I am invisible; I am like a statue. No one pays any attention to a statue, much less speaks to it."

"Do you believe it?"

"What I overheard? If it is true, the world is about to turn inside out! Or turn back to being right side out, depending on how one looks at it. But how can one believe that it is not true? She cannot be lying. Why should she lie? What possible reason could she have for doing so? And how could she be deluded? One is not with child without knowing what happened. And if she is as she says she is, then . . . "

"Incredible is too mild a word," said Thomas. He sighed. "But we had best join the others. I have my 'wine,' and so will not be conspicuous."

"And I suppose I should at least hint that some statues can talk. I do not enjoy opening conversations with others, lest I make them uncomfortable. And that seems to be my fate." He went inside.

They mingled with the guests, who were thinning out, and eventually decided with John and James that they would take advantage of their hospitality for another few nights, while the group made itself ready to go up to Jerusalem for the feast.

In the next days, it seemed they were to become a rather permanent nomadic group, because from then on, they would have no fixed abode, but would be going throughout Galilee and Judea; and so they collected tents and cooking gear, so that they could stop wherever they happened to be for the night. A number of women joined them, helping out with the domestic side of things, and there were other men also, some only staying for a day to see what would happen, and others for more extended periods.

The nights were difficult for Thomas. As he lay down, he took the bladder and laid it beside him, and the temptation was always severe to put it near enough to his head that he could half wake in the night and sample it. "If I do not really realize what I am doing, how am I responsible?" his mind told itself, all the time knowing that this was a lie, even if in a sense it was the truth. And he would think, "One more day. I will last another day," and, counting the days, which were beginning to add up, he would put the bladder back at his side. For one more day. And every time he did so, he would think, "I really should destroy this," upon which he would immediately break out into a sweat.

The journey to Judea along the banks of the Jordan was fascinating to Thomas, (and helped distract him from the call of the bladder), since he had never himself made the trip before; he was startled toward the end when the mottled green hills of Galilee gave way to immense mounds of nothing but dirt on both sides of the green strip by the river. He had heard of deserts, but had never realized how frightening and depressing they were; it was as if some giant had taken an enormous plow and turned over the earth, leaving it ready for planting, and then simply abandoned it, or salted it, so that not even weeds sprouted. The contrast with the banks of the Jordan could not have been starker.

And then at the end, after they left Jericho, there was, off in the distance, the Dead Sea, so salty that not even the fish in the ocean could live there, it was said; and the land around it also gleamed with salt. Some hermits lived around there, and the buildings of their community were visible off in the distance, as were the caves in the hills they took to when enemies approached. How they survived was a mystery to Thomas; but there seemed to be quite a few of them. It made him thirsty; but then, everything made him thirsty--but water was no help, though the group carried plenty. But he had arrived at the tenth day.

Then there was the climb over the mountains, and once again vegetation came into view, and Jerusalem, which certainly did not seem to Thomas "a snug, compact city," as the psalmist wrote. He was overwhelmed by all the bustle in the narrow streets, the immense walls, and the buildings towering over him everywhere, with small areas of greenery punctuated by cypress trees pointing to the sky, as if to say, "But pay attention to the One who is responsible for all of this!"

As Jesus entered Jerusalem, he encountered a number of sick and lame people, which he cured simply by touching them. As soon as the people heard of this, he was inundated with the sick, whom he touched and healed. They all shook their heads in wonderment, not only at the cures themselves, but at the matter-of-fact way in which they were done; as if Jesus regarded this as simply something that was to be done, like giving alms to the poor.

Thomas could not but see the Son of the Supreme Being at work. He had thought earlier that perhaps Jesus could effect cures of the mind, but had had doubts about his ability to cure physical ills. No longer. Thomas and everyone around Jesus were dumbstruck with amazement.

And then they went into the immense Temple, with its vast courtyards, teeming with people, and full of the noise of their conversation and of the bleating of sheep and the lowing of calves to be sold to those who wished to make a sacrifice.

Jesus stopped, looked around at the vendors and at the money-changers, stroked his beard as if thinking, and suddenly came to a decision. He undid the cord that bound his waist. "John, lend me your cincture, would you?" he said, with fire in his eyes. The ends of the cords were tied into knots to keep them from fraying, and he doubled the ropes over in his hands into what Thomas saw was a kind of whip with four tails, which he began swinging before him.

"Out! Out!" he shouted, beating the animals on their rumps, making them bellow out and run off. "Out!" He came to the money-changers' tables, where Roman denarii were converted into shekels to pay for the sacrifices, and kicked them over. "It is written," he cried, "'My house will be called a house of prayer,' and you have made it a den of thieves!" The money-changers screamed at him as they dashed to pick up the coins that were flying all over the pavement.

"Take those out of here!" he cried to the pigeon-vendors, "You are not to make my Father's house a market!" The vendors fled from their tables, grabbing their cages of pigeons, grateful that they had escaped his wrath without having the birds fly off away from them. The sellers of the other animals meanwhile were chasing their cattle, trying to round them up and take them out of the Temple as quickly as they could. Confusion was everywhere.

John came up to Thomas, and said in his ear, "Is it not written somewhere, 'Zeal for your house has eaten me up"? Thomas, of course, did not know. "Whether it was written or not, it has certainly happened," he answered. He thought of Judas's view that it would probably be most prudent to begin in Galilee, because one would have to be extremely diplomatic to convince the Judeans that a new Kingdom was to be established.

The students stood by, looking on in awe, and, it must be said, with a great deal of nervousness. It occurred to Thomas that here seemed to be another instance of Jesus acting 'before his time,' based on the circumstances that he confronted. He clearly was enraged that the very Temple had become more a house of commerce (and, as everyone said, exploitation) than for true worship.

Eventually, things quieted down somewhat, as the animals left the Temple and the money-changers had retrieved most of their coins (not without considerable argument among them about whose was what). Everyone had been cowed by Jesus's forcefulness, but some began to gather round him to protest.

"Where is your authorization to do something like this?" a man shouted from the crowd, which kept a respectful distance away from Jesus's whip.

Jesus, panting from his exertion, looked round at them with scorn. He switched the whip to his left hand, and then with his right, beat his breast with his fingers, "Destroy this temple," he shouted, and flung out the hand in front of him with three fingers raised. "and in three days I will rebuild it!"

No one said anything for a few moments; his reply was so far from an answer that they were stunned, trying to fathom it. Finally someone laughed mockingly and said, "This temple has take forty-six years to build, and you will build it in three days?"

Jesus gave no further answer, however, and looked around at them, still full of wrath. Finally, he walked across the courtyard, now cleared of animals and money-changers, and went from the Courtyard of the Gentiles into that of the Judeans, the Temple proper. The students followed.

"Who is he? Who does he think he is? Is he pretending to be the Prince?" they heard from every side. Some answered, "Had you not heard? He is the one who was curing all sorts of diseases, merely by touching people." "And so?" was the answer. "And so, perhaps he is the Prince. He certainly acts as if he is!"

But Jesus paid no attention to them, and walked on into the Court of the Judeans, where he stood silently for a while to pray.

Ezra came up to Thomas, and said, "I suspect that Judas has his nose rather out of joint because of this."

"Out of joint? What do you mean?" said Thomas.

"I have seen many slaves that are the image of Judas in their own way: perfect in all respects. And they are quite content with their servitude, because they have learned the art of insinuating ideas into their master's head, and he, believing he thought of them, carries out their wishes. Judas, I think, is the political version of this."

"Political?"

"Come now, Thomas, know you not that everything that involves groups of people is political? I am convinced that Judas thinks--or thought--that he can rule the new Kingdom by proxy, by being the perfect follower, and then, showing his rationality, by becoming the perfect advisor to the Heir to the Throne. And he was advising Jesus--by simply throwing out what looked like what he knew based on his experience--to proceed slowly, starting in Galilee, and not antagonizing the Judeans.

"Think of that, based on what you and I know. Advising the Son of God! The presumption can only be excused by his ignorance of who he is following. And now Jesus has done the very opposite of what he advised. He will not be happy--though you will detect nothing of it."

"You think Judas is that devious?"

"I know not whether to call it 'devious.' I think it is just the nature of the animal. That is how people of a certain constitution act--most especially people who are brilliant and learned. They do not want the work, only the control. But why attach himself to someone who is likely to fail? And he must be wondering why attach himself to someone who does not follow his advice and expects him to follow wherever he leads? For him, as a rational person, his advice is obviously the most rational course. What he does not realize is what we know: that everything about Jesus is beyond mere reason."

"Are you saying that you think this action of Jesus is irrational?"

"No. Only that the reasons for it are beyond what a 'rational' person would conceive."

At this point, John joined them. He was one of the few who did not seem to feel uncomfortable with Ezra. "What do you suppose he meant by what he said back there?" he asked.

"I know not," answered Thomas. "It seemed to me to make no sense. 'I will destroy this Temple and rebuild it in three days.' Meaning he had the power to do so if he chose?"

"No," said John, "he did not say that. He said, "Destroy this Temple." Is it not so, Ezra?

"That indeed is what he said."

"Meaning," said Thomas, "If you destroy this Temple, I will rebuild it in three days? That makes even less sense. Why would the Judeans destroy the Temple?"

"By starting a war, making the Romans do so?" speculated John.

"But notice," said Ezra. "He did not wave his hand about as if to indicate the Temple. He was pointing at his own breast."

"Destroy this Temple," said John.

"Meaning," went on Thomas, "if you kill me. But then what? I will 'rebuild myself' in three days? It still makes no sense."

"But you are right, Ezra, now that you mention it," said John. He did seem to be referring to himself."

"And how would this 'rebuilding himself' be his credentials showing why he could clear out the Temple as he did?" asked Thomas.

"I suspect," said Ezra, "that we are going to hear many things that will seem to make no sense until the Kingdom, whatever it is, is established. I cannot believe he does not have something in mind. We must simply remember these things, and later on we will understand them."

"I hope," said John, and the others nodded assent. Thomas thought, "Of course, if he can die and then bring himself back to life, this would establish that he is indeed the Son of God, and thus be his 'authorization' to clean up the Temple." If. But who knew? Jesus was an enigma, that much was certain.

It was toward evening when Jesus emerged from his meditation, and he gathered them and said, "We will spend the nights here in a place I know of across the Valley of the Kidron Brook, on the Mount of Olives." and they started down the hill toward the east, when a man came up to Jesus and said that Nicodemus, a member of the Sanhedrin, would like to see him that evening.

"Indeed?" said Jesus. "This is not an arrest for my audacity, I trust."

"Oh no," said the messenger. "He merely would like to see what you have to say."

"Simon," Jesus said to Andrew's brother, "Do you remember the garden where we stayed once when we were in Jerusalem? That is where we will be going. I will come to you later, after I have had a talk with this Nicodemus. --And it might be as well,"

he added, "if we kept this destination to ourselves. We might need a place later on to go where no one could find us. Do you understand?"

"I do, Master," said Simon, who was as much in the dark about what he meant as everyone else.

Jesus then followed the messenger, and Simon led them up the hill from the Kidron Valley, as the setting sun turned the green hillside red and brown. It was not very far, as it turned out, when they went into a garden full of olive trees and found fairly comfortable places to lie, bundled in their cloaks, because it was rather cold that night.

--And Thomas, as he dropped off to sleep, realized that he had not thought of the magic liquid all day. He patted the bladder, however, nostalgically. Eleven days. Soon it would be two whole weeks.

The full Passover moon had risen and brightened the little grove when Jesus appeared among them and took his place next to Simon and Andrew. "The seed, it appears," he whispered to Simon, has been planted. It is not what I would have planned, but it will do; it will do."

After celebrating the Passover the next evening at the house of a friend of Jesus, they went to the banks of the Jordan, where Jesus instructed them to bathe the people who were coming to him.

"Do you know that John is still bathing people, over at Aenon?" asked Andrew. "Someone I bathed just told me. He said he wanted to come here also."

"It is well," said Jesus. "We are not rivals."

But others who came reported that the Pharisees were beginning to notice that Jesus's followers, who were, of course, more numerous, were bathing more people than John was, and that Jesus was becoming more prominent, because in addition to bathing people, Jesus was curing various diseases among them.

"You are making them nervous," said Judas Iscariot. "And it might not be wise, think you not, not to make them nervous at this early stage?"

"I agree," said Jesus. "We should return to Galilee and there begin seriously announcing the advent of the Kingdom."

So they left, but instead of going along the Jordan, they went straight through Samaria. They had reached Sychar, near Jacob's well, around noon on the second day, and Jesus said, "You go into the town to buy food. I will rest a bit beside the well here. We might stay here a night or two."

"Here? In Samaria?"

"Fear not; we will be perfectly safe. Now go."

When they returned, they found Jesus talking with a woman, who had come to the well to draw water. They were astonished, not only that he was speaking alone with a woman, but with a Samaritan. The Judeans generally had nothing to do with Samaritans, who, descendants of the Philistines and other tribes, had a bitter hatred of Judeans, which, by and large, was returned with interest.

She took one look at them as they came up and ran off, leaving her water-jar.

As they prepared the midday meal, Jesus paced up and down, clearly excited. "Rabbi, eat something," said James, John's brother.

"I have food to eat you know nothing of," answered Jesus, continuing to pace.

"Did she give him something to eat?" they asked each other, and he stopped at looked at them. "My food," he said, "is to do the will of the one who sent me, and finish the task he has given me." He looked out at the fields, where the crops were beginning to sprout. "You would say, would you not, that it will be four months before the harvest?"

He waved his hand at the landscape, "But I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields; they are already ripe for the harvest, and already the reaper has begun collecting his pay and is gathering a crop for eternal life, so that the one who planted the crop will be just as happy as the one gathering it in!"

The others looked at him in bewilderment. "I am sending you," he said to them, "to reap what you have not worked on; others have done the work, and you will gather the fruits."

Before they could ask him what he meant, the woman reappeared with a number of the townsfolk, some of whom the students had seen when they bought food. They begged him to stay and tell them more of what he had told the woman; and they stayed in that place two days.

Ezra, who was quite a curiosity there, anything but 'invisible,' probably because he was a strange man among a people who was foreign to these Samaritans, managed to ingratiate himself with the woman, who told him the whole story, about how Jesus had first asked her for water, and when she reacted in surprise, had told her that if she knew who he was, she would be asking favors from him, and he would give her "what he called 'living water,'" he quoted to Thomas, imitating her. "Those were his very words. Of course, I thought he meant running water, and I asked him how he could find any without a bucket, for the river here runs deep under the earth, and he told me that the water he was speaking of made one never thirst again, because it became a spring inside him or something of the sort that made no sense. So I laughed, and told him to give it to me, and he told me to go fetch my husband and come back. I said I had no husband, and he chuckled and said, 'What you say is true. You have had five men, and not even the one you have now is your husband!' Well, I knew then that he was a prophet, and so I asked him why the Judeans thought we had to worship God in Jerusalem, when we have always done so on this mountain, and he told me that the time was coming when we would not worship God in any special place, because he was a spirit--which I knew, of course--and I answered, 'Well, I know that the Prince is coming, and when he comes, he will explain everything, and he said, 'That is what I am, speaking to you.'

"I asked her," went on Ezra, "'Is that exactly what he said?' and she answered, 'Well, something of the sort,' and I pressed her to give me the exact words. She finally said, 'Well, what he said was "I am, speaking to you," but one knows what he meant.' Interesting, is it not, based on what we heard from his mother? 'I AM, speaking to you.'"

"Well, but Ezra," said Thomas, "I would not make anything of this. How else would one say it if one were saying he was the Prince? You are in effect saying that he was claiming to be God."

"And you think he was not? In such a way that one would take it to be, 'It is I who speak to you,' but which hid a deeper meaning?"

"Well, it is conceivable, I suppose. And he does speak in riddles. Witness what he answered when they asked him for his authorization to cleanse the Temple. But. . ."

"But it is impossible to believe. On the other hand, if he is going to have to be made King in such a way that his reign is the Kingdom of God--because he is God, then he is going to have to introduce the idea gradually, think you not?"

"If that is the case. But--The whole idea is so fantastic!"

"And yet look what he has done in these first days. Cured people with a mere touch!"

"I know, I know. But--I wish I had never become involved in this!"

"Oh? You would rather be still wallowing in filth with Samuel hovering over you?"

"I would rather be fishing with Samuel, and never have heard of any of it!"

"Yes, well, you would simply trade one impossibility for another."

"Have mercy, Ezra! I am terrified at what will become of us--and the whole world! Lions wandering around tame as kittens, and wolves lying down at our feet like dogs! Or, if he is rejected, which God forbid!"

"Actually, I feel exactly as you do, Thomas. We are facing something cataclysmic--and you and I, and Jesus and his mother and father, are the only ones who have the faintest idea of what is upon us. He has said already that we must 'change our way of thinking.' Everyone else thinks that this means that we must make ourselves ready to throw off the yoke of Rome. They have no idea how drastically we will have to change!"

"Well, what can we do? You are perfectly right; there is no going back. We will have to continue, and what will be will be, I suppose."

"'Trust' takes on a whole new meaning, does it not?"

That night, he thought, "Two weeks." He could never have done it himself. And every now and then he forgot the bladder at his side. For a moment.