Son of Mary

by R. S. Ingermanson

  The servant’s face is pale and moist. He knows Rabbi Yeshua is making a joke on him. He hurries away to fetch. He is gone long, and when he returns, he does not hurry.

  I still do not know why HaShem told Rabbi Yeshua to make this joke. It is wasting time, to no gain.

  “Draw from the barrel,” Rabbi Yeshua says.

  I back away to the far corner. The bridegroom will make a rage when he sees Rabbi Yeshua is making a joke on him. I wish I had not come to this feast. Rabbi Yeshua dishonors his brother-in-law, and he dishonors himself also.

  The servant lifts the lid of the barrel.

  He dips in a pitcher.

  He draws it out.

  Red wine drips down its sides and spatters on the ground.

  Wine!

  My heart thumps like the waves that beat on the hull of our boat in a storm. I do not think any prophet in Israel ever made such a mighty wonder, not even Elijah.

  The servant’s eyes are large as silver dinars. The other servants gabble among themselves like pigeons.

  Anger draws the steward’s face tight. “Fools! Why have you put wine in barrels of purification? It is not fitting.”

  The servant pours out a cup and hands it to him.

  The steward tastes it. Delight rushes into his eyes. He turns to the bridegroom. “What foolishness is this? You kept the best for last, and put it in barrels not fitting!”

  I think he is the fool, not to know a mighty wonder has taken place.

  The bridegroom wears a look like a blank wax tablet. He does not know any more than the steward.

  Rabbi Yeshua grins a big grin. There is a look on his face like a warrior who has won a great battle. I think King David wore such a face on the day he cut off the head of the giant. I think Elijah looked just so on the day he destroyed the false prophets of the ba’al. I do not understand why Rabbi Yeshua looks like this. There was no enemy he fought. It is a mighty wonder to turn water into wine, but we have farmers who can make wine already. We do not need more wine in the world. We need a man who will throw down the Great Satan.

  Anyway, nobody saw the mighty wonder except me. The servant girls poured in water, but they did not see the wine. The manservants did not see the water, but now they see the wine. Only I saw both the water and the wine. It is foolishness to make a mighty wonder when only one sees it.

  Rabbi Yeshua takes my hand and pulls me away. “Come, Yoni. The kingdom of HaShem is upon us.” The sound of his voice makes me think of the roaring of lions.

  I am afraid and I am delighted and I am astonished, all at the same time. I do not know what he means, that the kingdom of HaShem is upon us. That cannot be true. Rabbi Yeshua has made a paradox for me to solve. The sages tell that when the kingdom of HaShem comes, all Israel will be gathered to a great feast, together with Mashiach. But that will not happen until the wrath of HaShem throws down our enemies and HaShem returns from his long exile and the Shekinah shines in the Temple of the living God.

  That has not happened, and therefore how can the kingdom of HaShem be upon us?

  Still, it is a mighty wonder, and such a thing has not been seen in Israel for many hundred years.

  I think I will not go to Jerusalem next year to learn Torah.

  Yeshua of Nazareth

  My face feels hotter than it ever did, and my heart pounds as I have run from Jerusalem to Nazareth.

  HaShem has done a mighty wonder!

  Only Yoni saw the mighty wonder, but soon everyone will know it, for Yoni talks more than any man or boy ever did. All will rejoice at the mighty wonder and give thanks to HaShem.

  I give thanks for the mighty wonder, for it is good.

  But there is a greater thing here that makes this mighty wonder seem like a small wonder.

  I called on HaShem, and I heard his voice.

  I heard, not like a man who strains to hear a faint whisper.

  I heard, not like a man who listens with muffled ears.

  I heard true and clear, like when I was a small boy sitting on Abba’s lap and he told me tales of old. When he said I must go to bed, I tugged on his beard and begged for one more tale. And he laughed a great laugh and told another tale.

  That is how clear I heard the words of HaShem.

  The words of Abba.

  I did not know the purpose of Abba’s words, but I obeyed, and then Abba did a mighty wonder.

  Some will say it is a small thing, to make wine to bring joy to the heart of one girl on her wedding day.

  That is a lie.

  It is not a small thing, it is a large thing.

  A girl is born and grows to a woman. In the blink of an eye, she marries and gives birth and raises children. In two blinks of an eye, she is old, bent under the weight of years. In three blinks of an eye, she is dead and buried.

  Of all the days of her life, there is one day most wonderful—her wedding day.

  To give a girl joy on her wedding day is a thing precious to Abba.

  My brothers will not understand that.

  Shimon the Rock will not understand that.

  Big Yaakov and Andre and Natanel will not understand that.

  Philip might understand it a little.

  Yoni will understand.

  Abba has given me two gifts today. The gift of hearing his voice. And the gift of a friend who understands the deep things of HaShem. My heart is full, because—

  “Yeshua!” Shlomi Dancefeet runs around the corner and throws herself in my arms. She laughs. She cries. She shouts my name.

  I hold her close, for she is my last sister to be married. She is the one who loves me most, for she never knew our father Yoseph, who died before she was born.

  Shlomi gives me a kiss and a kiss and a kiss. “You are the best brother who ever lived, and now you have my permission to go to war and smite the Great Satan. But you will be careful, yes?”

  “Abba will go with me.”

  Her eyes shine. “Where will you go to begin the war?”

  I do not know where I will go to begin the war, but my mouth opens of its own will and says, “Capernaum.”

  I did not know until this very moment that I was going to Capernaum, but now I know it with certainty.

  Abba has given me new friends. Shimon the Rock and his brother Andre live in Capernaum. Yoni and Big Yaakov live in Capernaum. Philip lives in Bethsaida, which is just beyond Capernaum. Natanel was born in this village, but he works as a hireling in Bethsaida.

  With my four brothers, that makes ten men for my army. I do not know what I will do with an army of ten, but Abba will show me.

  We will go to Capernaum.

  We will rest there a few days.

  I will listen to HaShem until I know who is the first Power.

  And then we will go to war.

  Miryam of Nazareth

  My son made a mighty wonder! I heard it from little Yoni, how the Shekinah rested on my Yeshua and he called for the servants of my son-in-law and gave them orders and they did them, and now see! Wine!

  He would not have made this wonder except I asked him.

  It is a sign from HaShem.

  I asked my son, and he did a big thing.

  My son loves me. HaShem loves me.

  It is a sign Yeshua will make a justice on me.

  He promised he will do it.

  Now I know he will do it.

  He will burn down our village.

  He will close the lying lips of my accusers.

  He will crush the fingers of those who put haryo in my path.

  After he makes a justice on me, he can smite as many Powers as he wishes and throw down the Great Satan and redeem Israel and rule on David’s throne.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Yaakov of Nazareth

  “We will need swords to make a war on the Great Satan. Where can we get swords?” I am walking alongside Shimon the Rock, who is the leader of the men from Capernaum.

  I like Shimon. He is a fish-man, and his father owns several boats. They have money,
and we will need money to buy weapons. That must be why Yeshua chose him. Shimon looks almost as strong as me. He will make a mighty captain in my army.

  Shimon the Rock looks back to where Yeshua walks with our women and children.

  My face feels hot. The women and children slow us down.

  Shimon says, “Why is Rabbi Yeshua walking with the women? He should be making a strategy with us.”

  I shrug. “He loves our mother overmuch.”

  Shimon sighs. “I thought he was eager to begin the war.”

  “The matter of swords. Are there iron-men in Capernaum skilled in making swords?”

  “We can get sickles.”

  “A sickle is not a sword.”

  Shimon says, “We have iron-men in Capernaum who make sickles. We do not have iron-men who make swords. If the Romans heard we had iron-men who make swords, it would go hard on the iron-men.”

  “What about slings?” I ask.

  “We have slings. Every boy from the age of three has a sling.”

  “And stones?”

  Shimon’s eyes burn hot. “We have more stones on one street of Capernaum than all the slingers in the world could sling if each had seven hands.”

  I smile on Shimon and pound his strong shoulder. “It is good. When our father David killed the giant, he did it with a sling. If we go out to kill the Great Satan with stones, HaShem will give the victory in our hands.”

  Shimon the Rock grins a big grin. “And if we go out with sickles, HaShem will also give the victory in our hands.”

  I like Shimon, but I will keep a watch on him, for he has some cleverness. Not so much as that little Yoni, but Yoni is a boy and Shimon is a man. One does not keep a watch on a boy.

  Shimon’s mouth is set tight. “The Romans have archers, yes? For those, we will need wooden shields.”

  “They do not have archers. They use javelins. For those, we need iron shields.”

  His face is dark. “We do not have men to make iron shields.”

  “Can your iron-men learn to make them?”

  “They could learn, but they have no one to teach them. But Herod has a palace and a garrison in Tiberias. He must have men who can make shields. And swords.”

  I spit in the dust of the road. “We will have nothing to do with Herod. He is a finger in the hand of the Great Satan.”

  “We could break into Herod’s armory and take what we need.”

  “Herod’s men would make a big fight, so we would need more than ten men. How many men live in Capernaum?”

  “Three hundreds, at least, maybe four. Many more if old men and boys are counted. But we are farmers and fish-men. Herod has twice that many trained soldiers.”

  My head spins. Three hundred strong men, or even four? Capernaum is bigger than I thought. Nazareth is only the tenth part of Capernaum. I know every man in Nazareth, every woman, every child. I do not think Shimon knows even all the fish-men in Capernaum.

  Shimon the Rock turns to look on me. “Rabbi Yeshua must have a plan, yes?”

  I do not know what to say. Yeshua has said nothing of his plan. Yesterday at the wedding feast he said we would go to Capernaum. At last he means to make a move. But he did not say how he will make a move. I do not think he knows how to make a move. I know how to make a move, and yet he is the one everyone expects to make a move. That is foolishness, but I will not say so. Not yet. Let him draw men. When it is seen that he cannot lead a fight, it will be seen that I can.

  “We should ask him what is his plan.” Shimon stops still in the road.

  I do not wish to ask Yeshua, but I do not have a choice. I stop still in the road.

  We wait for the women and children to catch up.

  Yeshua holds the hand of my mother as they walk.

  I have told him five hundred times, it is not done to walk and talk with a woman, nor less to hold her hand, but he pays no attention. If we lose these good men over his foolishness, I will break Yeshua’s teeth with my fist.

  Shimon the Rock is not stupid. His eyes are on Yeshua and my mother as they come nearer. He looks little pleased.

  By the time Yeshua reaches us, my cheeks feel as they are on fire.

  “It is a fine day, yes?” Yeshua says.

  Shimon the Rock clears his throat. “Rabbi, you will make a move soon, yes?”

  Imma’s face turns pale.

  Yeshua smiles. “I will make a move when HaShem tells me to make a move.”

  “And what move will you make?” Shimon asks.

  All around us, Yeshua’s men grow silent.

  My brothers grow silent.

  Imma’s mouth is set in a hard, thin line. “You should go to Nazareth and punish our village for their wickedness.”

  Imma hates our village, but she thinks too small. Nazareth is not our enemy. The Great Satan is our enemy. After we destroy the Great Satan and rule on the throne of our father David, that will be a good time to make our village pay for the wrong they did on Imma. They did some of it on me, also. The leather-man will pay for what he did on me.

  “I have been thinking on the matter,” Yeshua says.

  We wait.

  Nobody speaks.

  “I do not yet know what to do, but HaShem will tell me what to do. You saw what happened at the wedding feast.”

  My ears feel hot and my fists clench, for this is foolishness, to wait and wait and wait for HaShem to say a word. Anyway, I did not see anything at the wedding feast. Imma saw the wine lost, or says she did. Yoni saw the wine restored, or says he did. I drank wine, and it was a good wine, but that is all I saw. I think this tale of a mighty wonder is overspoken. For all I know, there was more wine in the cellar and the servants remembered and brought it up, and now they are grinning behind their hands on this gullible talk of a mighty wonder.

  It drives me mad for Yeshua to keep waiting for some word from HaShem, while the Great Satan grinds its heel in our face every day. But it will go even worse if Yeshua makes some half-strength rising and then the Great Satan comes and destroys our nation.

  Yeshua should let me make the move. I would raise up a mighty army and kick the Great Satan in its underparts. I would crush the Great Satan in a month, if Yeshua would say the word.

  But I cannot say such things. I am not a speaker of smooth words. If Yeshua had any sense, he would see it without being told.

  Yeshua looks past me toward the Lake of Ginosar. “Is that Tiberias ahead of us?”

  “That is only Magdala,” Yoni says. “Tiberias is south of it by a walk of one hour, but we do not go there because Herod built the city on a graveyard, so it is unclean. Capernaum is north of Magdala by a walk of two hours. That flat mountain just before Magdala is Mount Arbel, and from the top you can see the whole lake and every village and town. Would you like to climb it? It is not far, and the way is not steep if you go up by the back side, but I think Shimon the Rock is too tired to reach the top.”

  Shimon growls deep in his throat. “Hmmph! I climbed Mount Arbel when I was a boy, and it made a good adventure … for a boy. But men think on larger matters.”

  Imma tugs on Yeshua’s sleeve. “I am too tired to climb some mountain. We will not walk all the way to Capernaum today, will we? The sun is low and we walked far today.”

  I think we have not walked far today. We started late in the morning, that is the problem. We brought all our women and children, against my advice. If we started early, we could have walked to Capernaum in a day.

  Yeshua shakes his head. “Shimon the Rock, where can we make camp tonight?”

  “Next to Magdala, by the shores of the lake.” Shimon twists his hands and shifts his feet. “But Rabbi, on the matter of the move you are to make …”

  His words hang heavy. Shimon does not wish to dishonor my brother by making blunt words, but we all wish to know what move Yeshua will make.

  Yeshua says, “I will make a move when HaShem says to make a move.”

  It is the worst answer he could make.

  Shimon’s f
ace turns to stone, and his eyes pull inward.

  Andre scowls on the ground.

  Big Yaakov rubs the back of his neck.

  Philip and Natanel look on each other with wide eyes.

  “You do not know how to make a move, do you?” says Yoni.

  That boy is rude and impertinent, and I would smite him if he said such a thing to me. Only he says what we all think.

  Yeshua does not know how to make a move.

  Yeshua does not mean to make a move.

  Yeshua is no Mashiach and will never be Mashiach. He has no yetzer hara to do great things, like our father David.

  I am tired of Yeshua’s womanish dithering. If he will not make a move soon, then I will.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Yoni of Capernaum

  Today is the third day after we left Cana, and today Rabbi Yeshua will make his move.

  I will be the only one to see it, because I am the only one watching.

  We arrived yesterday morning in Capernaum.

  My father was angry we came home six days late. Shimon’s father was angrier.

  Shimon the Rock is the oldest, so they made a blame on him.

  Shimon grinned on them and said they should hear me say a word on the matter.

  So I told them how we found Rabbi Yeshua, who is a prophet and a tsaddik, and how it is prophesied he will smite the four Powers, only he needs our help on the matter, and also he is in the line of David the king, and he has four strong brothers with him like the Makkabi heroes of old, and we would have come straight home by the Jordan Way, only Rabbi Yeshua made a beg on us to join with him in the wedding feast of his sister, and also the prophet Daniel tells how in these last days will come Mashiach the king, the son of HaShem, and so we knew our fathers would give permission if they knew, but they did not know, so what could we do?

  I made more words than that, more words than I ever made, and I wore them down, until at last they threw hands in the air and said we did well.