Sunday, 1st of
Elul ,
Second watch of the day
3870
City
of Antioch
--
“ Oh,
Beloved! You’re such a dreamer! “
The sound of the young girl’s voice woke her. It was her sister Deborah’s voice, but it was another’s
too. And in her confusion the old woman hung suspended within the haven of angels struggling to make sense of it all. Was
she dreaming? Were the known events of her life mere shadows of things yet to come? With her eyes tightly shut she saw a speckled
dog, barking at her, his hind legs suspended in air by the happy wag of his tail while his front legs lay close to the ground,
like the great Sphinx of Gaza. He had one blue eye and one green eye and he was happy to see her; barking
loudly to call her out to play. ‘ Then this had to be the field where Bakky brought his
ewes and lambs! ‘ She thought to herself in new joy. ‘ This has
to be the field just behind our house in Nazareth! That means Jesus is home! Jesus is back in the workshop! ‘
Part of her knew she was dreaming, but it made her so happy she never wanted to wake. She reached out to pat the head
of the speckled dog as he trotted up to her joyfully. She couldn’t remember his name but she knew she loved him, just
as she knew she was completely and totally loved in the arms of her family even now, just two years shy of nine decades upon
this good earth.
A warm hand seized
the tiny, withered object that suspended itself in midair.
“
Savta? Are you dreaming or can I get something for you? “
In that instant Ahava was awake, although her eyes remained sightless when she didn’t think she still had them
closed, and as she spoke to reassure the gentle sound of compassion and love beside her she knew she was dying, but death
wasn’t the terrible void she had imagined at the age she’d just remembered herself being. So many of the people
she loved and cherished had already crossed beyond that dark portal and were there, waiting for her, on just the other side.
Her body had stopped hurting although it was swollen and painful
to the touch. One simply had to avoid touching except with the mind, the spirit, the wit. Her hair, once dark was now silver.
Her eyesight, one of the few vanities she afforded herself, failed alarmingly with this last attack of chest pain and irregular
heartbeats; and her strength seemed as far from her as the placid shores of that lake she’d learned to love as her own
in those long ago decades when she was still a young girl traveling excitedly at her mother and brother’s side, unsure
of what tomorrow would bring. It was the people of the past who drew near to her in the sunlit garden over the heat and the
noise of a bustling, Gentile city.
A familiar face, broad and sun-burned
moved near her and for just a moment she became so animated it was as if the cloudy orbs could see clearly again then a hand
pressed against hers, warm and vibrant with life.
“
Isaac! You’ve come, at last! “
She cried in a voice they hadn’t heard that strong for many years. “
I knew you’d come! “
“
No, Ima. It’s me, Simon. Abba’s been gone these many years. “
White-haired Simon, her oldest. Ever the pragmatist. So like his father.
“ Why did you tell? It made her happy to think you were Abba! “
A familiar voice scolded but all she could tell was that it was a girl’s voice, and young.
“ Bashemath! Are you here? “ She demanded anxiously.
“ Here, Ima! Holding your hand! I’ve been here the whole time you were sleeping.
“
“ Yes, so you wouldn’t have to help with the housework! “
Martha protested. How much more like Deborah she was, than her namesake!
“ Joses and Lazarus? “
“ Outside playing. “ The young voice
assured her. She nodded, too tired to seek out the identity of the speaker. Her mouth too dry to ask.
‘ Playing? ‘ She thought to herself. ‘ I thought they were mine.
Perhaps they are only my grandchildren.’ But she was too tired to ask.
Something cold and sweet brushed against her lops and she woke with a start. It was night and it was raining, she could
smell it.
“ Who is it? “ She asked.
“ A melon, Savta. “
A child’s sweet, high voice answered pleasantly, misunderstanding the question. She only smiled. She must have
rested for she felt strength she hadn’t felt in a long time.’ That surge of strength preceding death? ‘
She asked herself hopefully. That would be almost too good to be true. They didn’t need her any more and she missed
them… him…most especially.
“
Paul? She’s awake. “
“ Why do you call your father by his first name? “
She scolded; then a sense of movement and a child’s face lay against her hand crying real tears. She was immediately
sorry she’d scolded the little thing, but she couldn’t remember its name.
“ I’m right here, Ima. I asked her too. “ A middle
aged voice assured her, deep with compassion and life experiences. “ It
makes Mirirum’s loss seem less…real. “
She heard so much in what he didn’t say.
“
Are you all right? Can I get you anything, Ima? “
“ How long has it been raining? “
“ I don’t know. The sand ran out of the hourglass and the sun hasn’t shined
enough for the last couple of days to allow me to reset it at noon. “
She smiled at the practicality of his mind. Yitzhak had much more to do with creating the children then she! She could
hardly do sums over five.
“ Then
in answer to my question, it’s been raining for a couple of days. At my age I don’t need to be any more precise
than that, Dear Heart. “
“ Don’t
use up your strength, Ima. Only Havala and I are awake. “
“ Havala? “ A beloved little
bird.
“ We named her after you, Ima; she’s such a dreamer! “
The old woman lay silent for so long he feared he’d offended her but when he rose, her hand pressed against his
arm, cold and taunt like a bird of prey. It sent chills through him that he was glad she couldn’t see.
“ Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone. “
“ You’re not alone. Havala is here. I’ll be back in an hour, hopefully less.
“
“ The sand has run out of the hourglass, how will I know? “
The old woman asked with a beautiful smile, and then she gave herself over to one of the few pleasures left to her,
sleep. Sleep filled with dreams of the people she loved, so she never had to be afraid of being alone. She
didn’t even remember why that thought frightened her so. It was too long ago, even if she wanted too, and she suspected
she’d forgotten for a very good reason!
It was sunny when
she awoke. The sticky gel of a partially cooked bird’s egg clung to her teeth, and someone was reading to her from the
ancient texts, even though she must have guessed she’d been asleep since the rocking motion carried her out here.
“ Do you remember the name Rueben and Claudia gave to their girl child?
“
She asked, surprised at the strength of her own voice.
The
reading, though done with feeling, paused and she sensed rather than saw that the young girl placed her finger where she was
reading. Though she was only a girl, Ishmael had secretly taught her to read and write; since there were no separations between
the words it was easy to lose your place. Once, the scroll the girl was reading would have been torn from her hands and burned
or buried for its desecration by a mere female. In a strictly Orthodox house such as Mary and Joseph raised her, it probably
still would be! Perhaps some of the changes in accommodating the Gentiles were for the good, after all.
No matter how much Cephas and Paul, then her brother James and Paul argued about it on his trips from Antioch to Jerusalem,
the Churches they established in Jerusalem and Antioch were different. Neither better nor worse, simply different.
For reasons known only to Himself, the Ancient of Days had chosen to pass on the knowledge of His Son
by word of mouth, from person to person rather than allowing Jesus to step down from the cross when His work of redemption
was ended. So much had changed since its simple beginnings following in the footsteps of a humble Master.
The men who heard Jesus and followed Him after their own understanding and simple faith had been changed, Even the ‘Others’.
Pilate, who hated Jews, recalled to Rome by Caesar Tiberius for his mistreatment of the Jews. Word had it that Tiberius
Caesar died before Pilate could be brought ‘to trial’ and executed. It was also rumored that Pontius Pilate who
died only seven years after he acknowledged her brother was innocent yet gave the order to execute Him, died at his own hand.
And Caiaphas, who loved power, who alone lasted eighteen years as High Priest because of his skill in evading Roman directness
until he encountered her Brother, was exiled to his farm until he died, and only then were his bones were allowed to return
to the place of his former glory.
The Roman army under General Titus,
struck at the heart of Jerusalem, and they’d waited, day by day, poised for flight at the warning Jesus gave long months
before His death on Golgotha’s hill, expecting that by some miracle the heart of their world would be allowed to continue
beating. That Almighty GOD might yet stay His hand of judgment for the sake of those in Jerusalem who loved Him in the truth
of renewed worship! Yet in the end He moved in His own power, though it left their world shattered and crushed under a cruel
oppressor’s heel, and now the good news of Man’s redemption and return to the One who so lovingly created him
for eternal fellowship was being forced out into the world by the men and women who found peace in Him through His only begotten
Son’s terrible sacrifice and return to the heavenlies as High Priest for every Believer, irregardless of nationality
or gender. That had been the most difficult test, in her opinion.
“ Savta?
How can I help you? “
The girl who had been reading asked in a high, sweet voice. Sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves allowed
her to see light and shadow. Dark, long hair and a pale face,
“
Havala? “ She questioned, remembering what Paul said. He must be
one of her sons and not one of the grandsons, although his voice sounded so young. She seemed to remember him calling her
“mother”, with a tear in his voice.
She was loved. Somehow
she never doubted that would be true. She loved their father so much, from the first time she saw him, that it almost seemed
as inevitable as night following the day that they would grow up knowing how much they were loved in return.
“ Yes, Savta? “ The young voice said,
pleased that she recognized her and seemed to remember. When in truth she remembered her youth better than the more recent
past. Or had reason to remember…
“
The sun was gone from the sky, Havala! It was darker than any night ever thought of being… “
She paused and felt the child draw nearer,
allowing the beloved scroll to roll up in place. Encouraged by the memory and the child’s attitude, she looked inward
again, but she wasn’t old anymore. She was young. She was her granddaughter’s age. Perhaps younger.
Her brother Simon was kneeling by their mother, trying to hold his pregnant wife Elisheba in his arms and their mother
at the same time. While his young son clung to his mother with chubby arms, too frightened to cry any longer She remembered
him crying. Their Simon. Their own personal zealot who was going to chase out Rome like a modern-day David against Goliath…and
he was crying.
The
healing hands now stiffened into the air with the rigidity of death, nailed to a piece of Judean wood. No more to reach out
in compassion to heal, to touch the filthy and diseased and heal flesh and make the soiled soul whole. There had been cries
and curses earlier, but the darkness had gone on for so long that people just slumped where they were, waiting for death to
take the rest of them. Movement was impossible. Feet, hands, legs, sprawled where they were when the darkness fell and you
couldn’t move without stumbling over them, and if you could move, where would you go? They were blind. With eyes wide
open they were blind! Even the cries of the children ceased into whimpers and they slept…the thought intrigued her…why
was she remembering a child sleeping in a basket at the foot of some unfamiliar stairs? Had she left one of her children there?
Or one of her grandchildren?
“ It was darker than any night ever thought of being…”
The young voice repeated, attempting to coax the rest of the memory out. “ The sun had gone
from the sky! Taken? How? “
The
old woman sighed and the memories flooded in. The girl needed to hear and she needed to talk, whether her granddaughter would
listen to it all, or not.
“ Then
the light came back. It emanated from the man on the center cross. It came from him! “ She specified,
forcefully, rewarded by the child’s excited gasp. This was a part of the story she’d never been told, from someone
who’d actually been there and saw it happen!
“
From the man on the cross. “
“
The center cross. They crucified two other men with Him, one on His right hand and one on His left. “
“ But I don’t
care about the other men, Savta! “
“
But you must care, Beloved. If the story is going to be told true, as it really happened. We have the Letters, yes,
but they were told by men who had a mission, a mission to show great truths from GOD. Our God, Havala. All mankind’s
GOD. “
She sighed, expecting faintness, but
instead drew in an infilling of strength she hadn’t experienced for many years. As though it were yesterday, it came
to her mind that more than coincidence led her brother to ask her to serve His guest! More than a discrete hostess
for Master Nicodemus’ late night visit that long ago Passover in Jerusalem!
He wanted her to hear and comprehend His mission from its very beginnings!
New strength surged through her, as if she were that girl of long ago.
“ Can you write? Do you have something to write this down, Child?
“
“ Yes, I do! “ Her young granddaughter
said excitedly. “ The backs of all the lessons Petrochela gave me to study! That’s a better
use for them than my brother James’ taking them to write his poetry! “ The scorn hid
admiration.
The old woman smiled though the silence as she waited for the child’s return. The girl must have thought she’d
gone to sleep for she gave her a hand a hard little shake and called “Grandmother” in a quivering voice.
“ I’m here, Child. But I’ll be going home soon. I think the Heavenly Father
has granted me this one last telling so no part of it will be forgotten. “
“ I’m ready, Savta. “
The child’s voice said gravely. “ I have a whole inkhorn. And I doubt
I’ll run dry before you run out of breath, but if we do, we’ll just have to deal with it! “
“ How like your Grandfather you sound, Beloved. “
“ ‘ It was darker than any night ever thought of being, The sun had gone from
the sky! Then the light came back.
It emanated from the man on the center cross. It came from Him! ‘ I have that much written down,
Savta. “
The voice sounded like she was biting her lower lip, a familiar habit. She was probably frowning in concentration too!
The old woman sighed and the memories came flooding in. The girl needed to hear and she needed to talk.
“ Perhaps we should begin a little bit closer to the beginning than that. “
She said thoughtfully. “ Seventy years is a generation, and I’ve lived that plus all
the thirteen years I spent with Him.. “
“ Was the Messiah really our ken, Savta? “
“ Don’t interrupt, Yitzhak! Savta doesn’t have a lot of strength and this
is a story we need to hear so we can help to tell it! “
“
After she’s dead. “
The
young boy’s intoned gravely and she pictured him nodding, and she loved him all the more for it.
“ Yitzhak! “
“ Havala! “ He said back, mimicking
her perfectly. “ She isn’t just your grandmother because you’re named after
her! She’s my grandmother too! “
He demanded, sounding near to tears at the thought of such possible rejection.
The old woman reached out in that direction and the scent of the young man; he’d been playing in an herb she
remembered gathering with her mother when she was her granddaughter’s age but she couldn’t remember the name of
the herb, but she didn’t want the little boy to be chased away either.
“ Yes, she is, and yes, I am. And yes! He was my brother and I am the mother of your
father. Or mother? “
“ Father.
“ The girl added hastily, as if she feared the old woman would change her mind about
telling the familiar story in a new light.
“
Just as you were named after your father, and your grandfather, and you carry their blood in your veins. “
“ He was a Roman general! “ The boy’s
voice said with obvious pride.
“ A Centurion,
but a very important one. “
The girl’s voice corrected primly.
“ You’ll need that kind of accuracy, and I’d like the boy to hear it too,
if you don’t mind. It’s important to learn the truth before the myth takes over. “
“ Sit next to me and be very quiet. Savta has a very soft voice. “
There was a murmur of assent, and to her surprise, the boy was willing to listen, especially to the parts that that
used his name, since he was named after his father and his grandfather.
“ Where do I begin? I suppose we should start in Cana, because that’s
the first place He came back to us, different. Changed…That was the year I got the spotted dog. I don’t remember
his name, but oh! I do remember him! One green eye, one blue, one heart as big as the Sea of Galilee. Oh yes, I do remember…
“ She paused with a sigh.
“
Nimrod. The spotted dog’s name was Nimrod. And your cat’s name was Sheba… “
The girl’s voice prompted hopefully.
The name triggered
a thousand memories, as vivid as the day they happened. It was a pleasant feeling to be young again, if only in her mind.
“ If you know the story that well, perhaps I shouldn’t tell it… “
She teased the patient child.
But the girl cried,
thinking she meant it. So the old woman relented and simply told the story from beginning to end, over several more days.
“ It began at our cousins’ Joshua and Bernice’s wedding in Cana. They were
very poor, but they loved one another for so many years. Bernice agreed to wait, then Hananiah realized how much harder he
could work a man who was properly grateful to him, so he let out half of his rental farm to Joshua, and my sister Deborah,
and her three children, who were all little at the time, my mother and brothers and of course myself were all invited to come
help her plan as large a wedding as we could get from the few copper coins that Hananiah had given Joshua for all his hard
labor over the last three years.
“ My
sister Deborah had a gift for getting the most out of every copper mite and penny. And of course, my older brothers were invited
to the wedding too. After all, what else could you do with men in those days? “
The children’s excited laughter encouraged her to go on.
“ Job was still alive then. “
“ Job? This must be a very old story! “ The
boy said earnestly.
“ Not
that Job! “ His older…what was she, Aunt? Like she had been to Mattatha? Her sister’s
oldest girl, who was older than her by two years. Then she realized the children were waiting for her to go
on with her story, they just didn’t want to be rude and interrupt again.
“ Job ben Shelmiah was still alive, but yes, he was a very, very old man at the time.
He had a beautiful daughter Karen-happuch and the most wonderful man for a son, Sihon, but she would never have been allowed
to marry since her brother had been born a dwarf,.. “ She paused with a
sigh.
“ I’ll explain later! “
She heard Havala hiss, but she was already lost in her memories and they were briefly more real than the sun playing
tag with her half-blind eyes as the leaves quivered back and forth in the new wind…
“ Job gave Joshua one hundred gold denarius’ because he knew Hananiah
had cheated him, but Job was too tender-hearted to confront anyone. I remember how cold and how dark it was, we were waiting
for the sun to rise so we could see which of the dried up pomegranates we might be able to squeeze for their juice before
we fed them to the goats. I remember my sister’s three girls were still asleep by the fire. How I envied them! And the
eagle! “
“ There was an eagle by the fire? “
The boy demanded, visibly impressed.
“
I regret to say it was in the sky. But it told us that Jesus was coming with some men I’d never met before. I
had no way of knowing then how important they would become in our lives. I was just glad to see my brother when He’d
left us so abruptly, and to see that he wasn’t mad at me, like Deborah was all the time. “
“ Jesus, our Lord. “
The boy Yitzhak said reverently but the old woman was a girl again, just turning ten in a few more days, and she was
hearing her older sister Deborah’s voice scolding her, and she was wondering why her daughters Mattatha
and Naomi got to sleep till it was daylight, and she didn’t?
“ Oh Beloved! You’re such a dreamer! “
Deborah scolded, and the pain of it was very real again, and she had to stop.
*
Wednesday,
15th of 2nd Adar
Fourth watch of the night
3787
Cana
of Galilee
-
In the fickleness of the changing weather, the promise of fair weather for the celebration failed, clotting the near
horizon with morning clouds that would give off a bloody reflection with the coming of true dawn. The air turned overcast
and chill, unyielding to the widow’s plans in the fading light of false dawn. The promised sunshine of early in the
week withdrew itself from the young man’s wedding feast, as if in agreement with the older house holder’s glum
predictions because the willing youth who had served him and their landlord so single-mindedly till now was marrying a beautiful
woman, above his own station in life, implying the risk of losing him to thoughts bettering himself at the older farmer’s
expense. In this one thing only had Joshua ben Gersom proved intractable, contrary to his nature, so Hananiah hid his anger
and smiled a great deal, reassuring the youth, if no one else in the village.
Mary
looked across the deepening shadows, annoyed with herself for mistaking it for true dawn in her excitement and tension at
how much was left undone, causing her to wake both her daughters prematurely. Keeping them here and at peace with one another
would try the patience of a saint, much less a woman who’d worked overlong into the night to make this day special for
their beloved Bernice and Joshua. They’d waited so long for this day! If need be, she’d allow the younger child
Beloved to return to sleep, and keep her elder child Deborah at the side of the small fire, talking about her own wedding
and how hard they had both worked to make this day come true for the delicate and tender young woman they loved almost as
much as their blood kin. It meant so much to the aging widow that she could make peace within her growing family.
With Joseph’s two oldest children having families of their own and Joses due to wed Jael in another two months
she’d begun to fear there would be little incentive to pull together as a family now that Jesus had persuaded them of
the finality of his departure from his father’s business, thrusting the role of responsibility on the twenty-one year
old’s shoulders when James was ill prepared for it. Having spent his life comfortably in the shadow of his elder brother,
James had acted as if Jesus departure were a shock to him, when that could hardly be possible as she and Joseph had faithfully
taught each of his children the true nature of their half brother. But youth was like that. Age prepared you to shoulder unwanted
weights because you’d already found there was no escape. She loved him all the more for his earnest attempts at being
the man-of-the house despite his next youngest brother’s readiness to find fault with even the attempts to stand outside
their beloved father’s shadow. At least sixteen-year-old Simon had twelve-year-old Judas’ hero worship; that was
sufficient to keep his next oldest brother’s scathing mockery from breaking his spirit. She thought absently, watching
her disparate daughters with a fondness she seldom indulged so openly, for fear of spoiling them from their adherence to duty.
Her only hope that Jesus might accept Joshua’s invitation when they met on the banks of the Jordan was the one topic
of conversation she would avoid, even
if
it meant having to listen to her mature daughter prattle on about her long-absent husband’s best features, which she
did any time he was over-due this long on his annual visits. The later he became, the worst of the rumors of his life apart
from his family in the house of Jesharelah ben Shem’s opulent house in Egypt, the ebullient and elaborate her praises
of him became, lest they doubt him as well.
Sharp tongued with lack of sleep from the hours she and Bernice spent last night catching up on one another’s
lives and her growing concern that Zaavan’s prolonged absence heralded a tragedy due to bandits or disease, Deborah
was unsuccessfully demanding obedience from her younger sister that she didn’t ask of her own daughters. Thirteen-year
old Mattatha, who acted as if her name, ‘A gift from GOD’, were a prophetic statement, and nine-year
old Naomi lay curled on their sleeping mats near the warmth of the small flame. Beloved, her mother’s youngest,
looked as though she were wondering why they were still asleep when she had been shaken awake and Deborah wanted to snap,
‘Ask your mother and leave my children alone!’ But she feared to give vent to her
growing fear that the increasingly cold stranger who came to her in her husband’s place each year might have decided
not to return at all this year!
She had a vineyard, two flocks of ewes and she-goats and a home, she could survive but wouldn’t want too, if
she’d fallen out of his favor when she loved him more desperately than she had even in the bloom of her youth?
After fourteen years of marriage and three daughters, Deborah still felt the weight of her family’s disapproval
over her intense struggle to have the obese merchant for herself. These chill distances between them were a silent form of
finger pointing at the desire of her heated, youthful choices that left her weak with resentment and suspicion she didn’t
dare reveal to her next two youngest brothers, since they had been the most vocal in their protestations. Now they were men
and their silences suggested an understanding of the male nature she could only suspect. But they were such opposites in their
attitudes and temperaments that she could draw no relief or answers for her troubling perplex. Though her
mother seemed unaware of the changes, it seemed to her that James’ attitude had sharpened toward Joses, who had reacted
to Joseph’s passing by trying to lose himself in his dedication to the ancient and dusty texts of the past that so pleased
his father when he was alive. But in Jesus’ absence it had fallen on James shoulders to bully his rebellious younger
brothers into the hard work of tool preparation and sharpening for the coming season for preparing the ground to receive the
planting winter wheat among their annual customers. He couldn’t merely shrug and say ‘I don’t know’
any longer and force his older half brother into doing the work for him. It had toughened him, and made the younger boys more
responsible, for which she was glad since the baby’s shocking advent into womanhood with the early start of her menses
at only ten had upset the predicted cadence of their lives.
She and her
mother Mary had been planning only an informal observation of Judas’ celebration of his thirteenth birth date next year
and perhaps a word or two to Masrekah the shadkhan since, as the youngest of four brothers, there was no great haste in finding
the mild mannered youth a wife of his own unless it was to allow him more room to mature in his father-in-law’s
house and not always be ‘the youngest’ of the boys. A certain disadvantage, no matter how like their father Judas
was. Deborah felt the chill tease of a too early spring breeze and watched as the stray wisp of wind almost smothered the
tiny fire of well dried dung, feeling a chill anger like resignation to Fate that had taken hold of her heart these last months
of silence from her increasingly distant spouse. Even when he was in the room with her, he seemed to be straining to pull
away. Worse, it was their eldest daughter’s beauty that seemed to hold his attention as hers had once done. And she
fought against her rebellious jealousy by taking a greater interest in the prospect of spending time with the elderly matchmaker
this afternoon.
‘ If Zaavan were here to take an interest in his girls, it would be easier!‘
She
slapped herself mentally the instant the ungrateful anger struck through her bones to her soul, but she couldn’t deny
that she’d been disloyal and angry toward him. She wasn’t growing any younger, even though men still paused when
they looked at her. If only the child at her paps had been the boy she’d promised him, she thought unhappily. Shutting
it off as quickly as it arouse by concentrating on the things she could influence! With his father’s
passing, James married a virgin as old as their older brother Jesus, and kept her in father’s house where he performed
weekly rituals, while twenty year old Joses, the middle son, was so in love with his virgin betroth Jael that it seemed as
if he wanted to climb up inside her and disappear from view! Her views were his views, her will was his will! It was troubling
to watch, but she had to allow him to make his own decisions as a grown man, just as she had for all her children. Neither
of them in their infantile preoccupation could explain a man of Zaavan’s depth and maturity and so she struggled alone
to seek that key which could hold him to her side when it came time for him to leave in such eagerness to return to the vulgarities
of Jesharelah ben Shem’s immodest house! Their own daughter was ripe for marriage and she feared he would spirit her
away too!
High over their heads, an eagle dipped her wings to wet them with air, rising higher in the fading light over the woods
near the rental farm of Job ben Shelmiah, Following the flight of nesting song birds startled by the passage of men with lanterns
and excited voices as Jesus of Nazareth led his new disciples along an untracked path, Making their way though the dark of
early morning toward Cana of Galilee where they’d been invited to the wedding feast for his cousin Joshua to the lovely
Bernice. It was too dark to hunt but too uncommon to ignore. And so she turned again in the chill darkness to follow the swaying
path of three lanterns held high aloft.
Waiting in the courtyard, just beyond the meager dance of the flame Mary of Nazareth stood near the baskets of winter-dried
pomegranates. By salvaging the juice of the least winter-desiccated fruit, she and her eldest daughter Deborah
sought to extend the limited resources for Joshua and Bernice’s joyous union. If they could begin at first light it
would grant them an extra two hours for last minute preparations. Her eldest daughter’s self-centered behavior threatened
to steal away the joy she was earnestly seeking for Joshua and Bernice’s sake. James too had promised to seek out his
elder half-brother and apologize for his behavior just before Jesus turned aside on their return from Jerusalem to seek out
his cousin John rather than return with them to Nazareth. The days without him had passed like an eternity,
and she woke too often in the middle of the night with violent nightmares of wild beasts rending him from limb to limb as
he walked winter desolated stretches of land, even though she knew as the Son of GOD this was impossible.
The New Moon celebration, initiated by watch fires from Jerusalem at the beginning of the
month, heralded the joyful celebration of communal and individual freedom, as much a part of this long denied union as the
joining of the two older lovers into one. Like life itself, it was filled with contradictions that eased her in their familiarity
as age lead her slowly toward a place where she had never been. Her youngest child’s entry to womanhood with her unexpected
entry into menses, little more than a week from her thirteenth birth date last month, had caught them all off-guard. It explained
her older sister’s harsh looks at the shivering form kneeling by the fire without forcing Mary to dwell on the sudden
hostility between twenty-six year old Deborah and her youngest sibling. Deborah was so set on whom Zaavan picked as her eldest
daughter’s husband that Mary could actually sense resentment toward the innocent child for elder nieces’ sake,
which was ludicrous since thirteen-year-old Mattatha was clearly ready and prepared for marriage while her aunt, at the same
age, was completely preoccupied by her little black cat and her dolls! Yet her love for the strong willed and successful child
who was her and Joseph’s firstborn allowed her to be gentle with the faults that rose from that same strength of will.
If she had to guess, she would be persuaded that despite her body’s early ripening that the eight days of Hanukkah
was still Beloved’s favorite holiday, The arrival of her women’s flow hastened the urgency of the details in finding
her a good husband, as Masrekah had faithfully promised at their last meeting, promising to bring the names of one or two
possible boys for their approval at this long anticipated union of like-minded souls, but the actual marriage contract would
have to wait another three or four years, and at the moment, that seemed like an eternity! Her extreme youth and
idealistic nature promised them more years of enjoying her light spirit and easy ways.
How
like Joseph she was! Before age and the weight of his responsibilities slowed his hands. Judas had his
gift for working with wood, and young enough to share his passions, she thought with a solitary ache she seldom indulged.
As Ahava and her innocent laughter had lightened many a day of seeping, and making beds, and weaving clothing too quickly
outgrown for the amount of time it took to spin, weave and wash the cloth for its shortened life of service! But life would
not be held back by her wishful thinking, and she had Judas, the youngest to raise for another three years till his Bar
Mitzvah, and marriage to yet another woman in the crowded house, with or without his cheerful sister to ease the
strangeness for the new bride. It would simply be more difficult to have the last girl torn from her arms as totally as Deborah
fled her. Then she would truly be alone, with her sisters married and preoccupied by their own adult families.
Was this how Anna felt when she was lead away by torch light parade to live in Joseph’s house. And if Ahava’s
belly were swollen large with child, could she as sweetly assume the best if her tear stained daughter pleaded both innocence
and virginity? The miracle of her own life, her own love suddenly pressed down on the middle aged widow and she grieved for
her loss of spouse and family even while she feared it would wound the Hand that so graciously lent them to her from His vast
love. And she yielded herself silently to the weight of those arms holding her up and comforting as her father’s own
when she first learned she had to leave home in a year to marry a stern young man who was older than her by a decade, with
a house and occupation to demand more of him than she would even dare, then the coming Child, the miraculous son of GOD, demanding
who knew what of them?
Sweetly she hummed the words she first said in joy to her cousin Elizabeth , for they had a melody of their own, alive and fragrant as new a Spring within herself. The emptied womb ached, the
sinewy arms reached toward the same flame as she had to receive Mattatha from the midwife, but this time, it would be a special
privilege and joy because Beloved was as much hers as his now, with Joseph’s passing, and they would grow old together
side by side. What more could any mother ask of life?
Thankful that both her daughters were willing to wait out the chill and the dark with her without complaint, Mary at
down by the small fire, warming her hands and toes. Her eldest son Jesus was clearly prepared to wait until he secured his
rightful throne in Jerusalem before he sought out a bride from Masrekah so planning for the modest celebration allowed her
to get closer to Deborah than at any other time in the fourteen years since she married Zaavan against her father’s
wishes. And hers! It meant so much to the aging widow that she could make peace with her growing family. With James and Joses,
Joseph’s oldest sons soon to have families of their own, she’d begun to fear there would be little incentive to
pull together since Jesus abrupt decision to move ahead with his own life had driven a wedge between him and Joseph’s
four sons. As the next oldest male, James now shouldered the task of compelling his rebellious younger brothers into completing
the hard work of tool making and sharpening required for planting winter wheat; taking on the carpenter shop and the
fathering seventeen-year-old Simon and his ten-year old brother Judas still required.
She
tried to hide her annoyance at Deborah’s oldest. Thirteen-year-old Mattatha was acting as if the ceremony was exclusively
for her benefit, but she had to be careful to keep her criticism of the beautiful but spoiled girl to a minimum for her mother’s
sake. Sharp tongued from lack of sleep and deepening concern at the unusual delay in her husband’s annual return from
his business concerns in Egypt, Deborah was unsuccessfully demanding discipline from her younger sister that she refused to
exert on her own daughters. Mattatha and her nine-year-old sister Naomi remained curled up beside their tiny fourteen-month
old sister Rizpad, obviously wanting to wait until the last possible moment. If she said anything, she and Ahava would find
themselves alone at the arrival of first light, so she kept her thoughts to herself; determined to enjoy the lovely
co-incidence of the new moon uniting the long anticipated marriage ceremony with her baby’s birth date. Deborah never
made any attempt to hide her jealousy at the shocking birth of a last child so close to Judas. Or at the special place “Beloved”
had in her aging father’s heart; no matter how Joseph went out of his way to offer her time to set apart for him and
his oldest daughter to share to themselves.
‘Was that the reason Deborah was so determined to marry the older childless widower? ‘ She
asked herself in the shock of sudden insight. Her first daughter’s self absorbed behavior threatened to steal away the
joy she was earnestly seeking, knowing that Jesus would rejoin them tomorrow for the wedding. James promised he would make
an effort to apologize and her eldest son’s tender nature would quickly forgive the boy his insecurities!
‘How could he not, and be true to himself? ‘ She thought in a resurgence of
joy and excited anticipation.
Masrekah the matchmaker was here, and she’d presented three very good prospects for Beloved. Mary was excited
to hear which one Jesus approved. A ship builder’s only son in Magdala, a carpenter’s nephew in Naim, near enough
to visit frequently. The only boy of his generation, they were also looking for a pious girl from a good family who already
had three or more brothers or multiple male ken, and her choice, the seventh son of a well-to-do merchant in Jerusalem, Shahsak
ben Meshelemiah, because the boy Lemuel was sweet and shy, and already a scholar at only fourteen! He would be good to their
little one, Masrekah assured her, although all three of the boys were kindly natured, from strictly pious homes. Joseph would
accept nothing less for their little daughter! And she approved.
Ahava,
usually so sensible and level headed, was acting silly. Deborah was being over-bearing. The way she acted lately whenever
she was near her sister. Mary began to be troubled by the suggestion of a deeper emptiness in her older daughter’s life
than mere sibling rivalry. As soon as the marriage festivities were over she knew she had to take more time with Deborah!
No matter how self-sufficient she appeared on the surface.
“
When I am the one to be wed, I shall have the most handsome man in all of Galilee… no!...
Wait! “ Ahava demanded gleefully, holding two of the dark-skinned
pomegranates over her head as she danced with shocking grace. “ The most handsome man in all of Judea
– or – Galilee in love with me! “ She giggled with an untried maiden’s
glee.
Mattatha slid further into the warmth of her blankets beside her sisters, watching the cold dark holding the heavenlies
from the earth. It would soon be dawn and the interesting activities would begin for tomorrow. Knowing her mother would indulge
her, since these rare festivities allowed them greater access to potential suitors without having to explain the extortionate
“distance fees” that Masrekah would otherwise have charged her father. The closeness of Bernice and Joshua ben
Gersom’s wedding awakened a force within the proud and beautiful girl’s heart; how soon she would escape her mother’s
control through marriage to some adoring man. The thought set her heart to racing. The grunting sounds of a man arisen irritably
from the largest building at the back of the unwalled courtyard drew her attention with a moment of fear. Mattatha tried to
look without raising her head, as the elderly farmer shuffled toward the small fire by the three standing forms.
“ Don’t make Savta put it out, Hananiah! “
She willed fiercely. There was little enough warmth to the chill air! Remembering her younger sister’s state
of wakefulness as the novelty wore off, thirteen-year old Mattatha deliberately slowed her breathing to make it sound as though
she were snoring, or at the very least, simply talking in her sleep. Because the privileges their mother allowed as first-born,
Mattatha had so far controlled this sly intruder. She learned to loathe this dark-skinned creature since Naomi publicly revealed
that her sister secretly pretended the jovial, care worn carpenter who came home every night was her father and not the exotic
stranger who only came near in her dreams or during one of the three holidays when he was required to be in Jerusalem by Jewish
moral Law, Being a merchant of foreign goods made by Jews in distant cities Zaavan ben Jehoiarib had to appear as approachable
as a next door neighbor, as wise as a Sadducee, and a guileless as a dove. Such perceptions and duplicities were his stock-in-trade
and his eldest daughter learned her lessons well.
“ Oh Beloved! “ Her older sister
rebuked, as soon as the man left. “ You’re such a dreamer!
At her sister’s sharp rebuke, the young girl’s innocent laughter caught in her throat. She stopped in mid-stride
feeling as if she’d done something wrong; Deborah’s repugnance was so tangible. She turned to her mother for reassurance,
but Mary merely smiled as evidence that she would take no ‘sides’ in this dispute, and she took the winter stored
fruit from her youngest daughter’s unlined hands. Mary was shocked at Deborah’s passion. Neither of her daughters
looked at her to notice her approbation or direction. They quarreled as sisters will, but she loved and admired each for their
own strengths. However, Ahava’s early arrival of menses had upset the delicate balance of expectation for Judas, who’d
expect a family celebration to mark his Bar Mitzvah next year.
Mary
tried hard not to sigh hard enough to draw their attention, but it was another stroke against her own mortality to be reminded
again that her children were grown, with growing children of their own! She didn’t feel any older, how had they raced
past her and supplemented her role? The child looked so concerned Mary smiled to reassure her. Ahava was so innocent for having
been raised with five boys and their friends in-and-out of the house at all hours. A tenderness rose up between her ribs at
her youngest smile. How like Joseph she looked when she smiled like that!
Jesus and Ahava
seemed to miss him the most. They’d had to travel such long distances and depend on one another so much in those early
years. Their discovery by the Great Ones from the East, who’d come to worship the Child, and acknowledge His kingship
with their generous gifts of Gold and Frankincense and Myrrh, their hasty flight to Egypt to avoid King Herod, after an angel
warned Joseph in a dream; then afterwards, returning, only to find his son Archelaus ruling in his stead]. So they had to
give up their house and their roots in Bethlehem and find the house where they shared so many years of joy and struggles together.
Until it became the one place she thought of whenever she thought of Joseph as intimately and as long as she was now; pretending
an interest in the straw-packed fruit she didn’t really feel. Deborah and James were the children of those years as
Joseph traveled the near-by farms and orchards seeking accounts among their own they could count on to bring in yearly revenue.
So perhaps they had more attention, but the size of the family grew with Joseph’s reputation, and that of his sons’
skills as they followed in their father’s craft and attention to detail even in re-sharpening a well-worn tool rather
than discarding it at the expense of making a new one.
After Jesus, Deborah and James,
came the branches: Joses, Simon, and then Ahava, who should have been the last-born child in the natural order of things.
But when she least expected it, the familiar feelings of sickness and nausea overcame her resistance and a final child, Judas,
was born. The death of Jude Thaddeus’ beloved wife Miriam in childbirth was so recent, Mary feared her sister’s
boy wouldn’t be here. But he had arrived in time for the marriage, perhaps Jesus would accept the invitation given to
him and his friends when Joshua met them recently at John’s side? It lightened her load to imagine
so. And that John, an acknowledged prophet from his birth, had been lead by the Holy One on high, to publicly
confirm the truth as told to the humble shepherds by the heavenly host, which she had treasured and hidden in her heart all
these years. In addition to being so much closer to him than his own half-brothers, perhaps Jude Thaddeus might even get Jesus
to dance with one of the pretty girls attending! They’d simply hold hands in a large circle and dance in liberty and
joy. What harm could there be in that? Jesus was as shy as only a virgin could be. A mother knew such things
without having to ask. He was too somber, too alone since Joseph’s death.
She’d
always known that one day she would lose Him to the mission that impelled Him to remain alone for three days in Jerusalem
when he was only twelve years old. But that was almost twenty years ago! Life had flooded in!
Bills to be paid. Clothes to be washed and woven, babies to be bathed and babies to be birthed. It wasn’t that she had
forgotten, but events had crowded around in on her, especially after Deborah and James each married. James always said he
was uncomfortable with her living with his unmarried, older brother in the house, so he kept Rebecka in her widowed father’s
house, but he’d made no attempt to move her into their crowded house even though Jesus made it clear he wouldn’t
return from his time spent with his cousin John…now…this….the news that Rebecka was going to bear James
first child! Life was racing past her, hurrying toward a destination of its own choosing while
she was encumbered with the needs of today, at the best, tomorrow. Where once she was the child, now her oldest children were
having children. She quarreled so seldom with her eldest that it weighed on her heart and she longed to get it behind her,
as she was sure her gentle son had already done. The pain in her back made her straighten again but she discretely refused
to allow either of her two daughters to catch her gaze. A moment’s fire touched as she remembered his rebuke before
she realized he was leaving them for good. Shutting her out. What had she done to him? It was the eldest son’s responsibility
to help with the man’s portion for the younger male children. She wasn’t asking anything more than what was right!
Her due.
Mary looked down at her hands. They were trembling. Almost three months and she was still angry! Yet, he was right.
He couldn’t wait until Simon and Judas were old men. There was a time appointed to the revelation of the Kingdom of
GOD. He and his cousin John had been born to that appointed spiritual hour.
‘It
is time’ She thought regretfully. She owed him an apology.
Beautiful
and strong-willed Deborah, Joseph’s firstborn, who arrived in the Jewish Community in Egypt where her beloved husband
Zaavan now resided most of the year, kept busy with the three girls and the home she maintained in her husband’s lengthy
absences. James was trying valiantly to be the head of the family but he was so inexperienced in life and
judgment that she had to find ways to encourage his natural tendencies without imposing his unrealistic standards on the other
children. Married for almost four years, he would soon have his own son or daughter to raise in their small, communal area.
Twenty-year old Joses had only four more months of his year’s betrothal to Jael bat Tabboath, his childhood sweetheart.
She feared for them both in the uneven match—but the girl hand picked for him by Masrekah had died in a fever that swept
Galilee from the north two years ago, and nothing could prevent the strong willed couple from engaging in public demonstrations
of their ‘love’ for one another. Or that her close relationship to rabbi Obadiah ben Jeezer, who had no sons or
daughters of his own would allow their family ‘peacemaker’ his next most passionate goal: to become rabbi in their
small town! A marriage to which both parents objected was almost certainly doomed to bring heart break, but there wasn’t
anything she could say about it as a woman; even as his mother. And it tore her heart apart to see his innocence now and be
certain it would turn to sour discontent, even as Deborah’s had.
All
their lives they had known that Jesus would one day rule in Jerusalem, but with their father alive, they borrowed from Joseph’s
quiet belief that it would be ‘someday’, in the distant future. When Jesus left, she’d been as
surprised as they were, although she was careful to hide it. They looked to her for support and guidance
so she kept a certain distance to allow them to work things out, not trying to force her own beliefs. Fourteen years
ago, Deborah bat Joses determinedly elevated herself to be “more than a mere carpenter’s daughter”, overriding
several more ‘appropriate suggestions’ Masrekah the matchmaker proffered, given the meager bride’s dowry.
Wedding an older widower with no children as her marriage partner against her father’s tender and insistent advice.
She would have Zaavan ben Jehoiarib and no other! Mattatha was born in the year of the couple’s betrothal. Eminently
worthy, with a rich father and a well-respected mother within their community, she had nothing to fear from her knobby-kneed
Aunt! Ahava was a child, tied to her doll and her kitten by a delicate thread of innocence!
Her four sons by Joseph were as strong willed as their father was gentle. Each so different from the other that there
was times when she wondered if she had anything to do with their conception than she did the Son of the Most High. Blessed
be His name. Now with Jesus gone…now that he’d stepped away from them, she corrected herself quickly, even in
mental conversation, it would be James to speak to Masrekah about a bride for Simon or Judas. Simon was too old to chase soldiers
and be unwed. It was asking for trouble that came all too willingly on its own! James would rule the family. Joses would rule
the community. Simon would drive out the Romans who ruled over them, with stones and taunts and feet too swift to be caught—yet.
And Judas? Like his quiet eldest brother, Judas ruled them all by his quiet good sense and dependability.
So perhaps she was wrong. One of her sons reflected the way she wished they would all be. And Beloved? Ahava the
dreamer, she wouldn’t care who ruled the world, as long as there was love in it, and at least one kitten for every house
that wanted one.
The thought made her smile and she deepened it as she saw her eldest daughter watching her face. Deborah was so skillful,
so good with other people, but so easily wounded where no offense was given. She was like her sister Miriam Salome` in that,
but even more so because she was so taunt with fear that her older husband’s long absence meant that he didn’t
return her passionate love; perhaps he was just escaping it? To be loved so dominantly required great personal
responsibility and Zaavan ben Jehoiarib had never been one to walk a hard road where he could coast on an easy one, even in
his youth with Joseph, but Deborah would hear nothing of her father’s practical warnings. Even though they all proved
true. His only interest in his daughter Mattatha was how to best use her extraordinary beauty to his own advantage; but she
dared not suggest such a thing to her daughter. Worse, Ahava, the youngest, had begun her woman’s flow at the start
of the year. Deepening her older sister’s worry and concern needlessly. She’d continue living with them in the
childhood home for another three or four years, but she was no longer a child who needed her eldest brother as a surrogate
father. Jesus was right about that too.
‘If not now, when? It was time‘
Although it was
as much a chore to motivate James, Jesus had prepared every-thing before they left for the yearly end-of-summer festival in
Jerusalem; their father’s tools stood sharpened and ready for use, the woods selected and dried for the needs of their
annual customers, and everything laid out in readiness to facilitate the hoeing, raking, and other common agricultural needs
that attended an early Spring thaw. Mary tried hard not to sigh hard enough to draw their attention, but it was another stroke
against her own mortality to be reminded again that her children were grown, with growing children of their own! She didn’t
feel any older, how had they raced past her and supplemented her role? Bored with playing ‘grown-up’ thirteen
year old Ahava released her generous spirit by dancing around on tip-toe, using the woolen shawl like a veil, the name of
Elohim wetting her tongue as the Golden Eagle overhead dipped her wings in the new scarlets and burnished
copper highlights of the warm, rising sun like a war sword turned to catch the light.
“
She’s such a dreamer! “
-
-
End Chapter 1
