Son of Mary

by R. S. Ingermanson

  I see the man Moses meet HaShem in the wilderness at last, after forty years. I see HaShem call him to make a move. I see him quivering, afraid to make a move.

  I see HaShem bring his brother Aaron to join him, to be his strong right arm, to help him make a move.

  I see Aaron and Moses speak to Pharaoh, demanding that he let our people go.

  I see Pharaoh laugh in their faces, making a mock on them, asking who is HaShem, that Pharaoh should obey him.

  I see Aaron the brother of Moses raise his rod and smite the great river and make it blood, and still Pharaoh makes a mock on him.

  I see Aaron the brother of Moses smite the dust of Egypt and make it gnats, and still Pharaoh makes a mock on him.

  I see Aaron the brother of Moses smite Egypt nine times with plagues, and still Pharaoh makes a mock on him.

  I see Aaron the brother of Moses name Egypt with a new name, the Wicked Satan, the first enemy of our people.

  I see HaShem send the Messenger of Death in the night to slay the firstborn of all the Wicked Satan, from the Pharaoh’s palace to the rent-farmer’s hut.

  I see the Wicked Satan laid low.

  I see our people set free.

  I see them escape by a walk of three days to the shores of the Red Sea.

  I see Pharaoh pursue with chariots and horses.

  I see Aaron the brother of Moses raise his rod and make a path of dry land appear through the Red Sea and give the people escape.

  I see the Wicked Satan pursue on the same path of dry land.

  I see Aaron the brother of Moses drop his rod.

  I see the waters return to their place.

  I see the Wicked Satan drowned.

  I weep for my joy.

  The Wicked Satan is crushed.

  Israel, the son of HaShem, is saved.

  Saved at the hand of Aaron the brother of Moses.

  The story ends, and I cannot speak. All that is within me says the Wicked Satan is the first Power. That boy Yoni has bewitched me.

  When I open my eyes, I see it is the same for all the others. Every man in the room wishes to go make a big war on the Wicked Satan.

  The Wicked Satan, Egypt, feeds the Great Satan, Rome.

  To destroy Egypt is to starve Rome.

  That boy Yoni is silent now, grinning on his victory, for he thinks he has defeated me.

  But I will break his spell. Egypt was a mighty Power that slaved us many hundred years ago. But they are not the only Power in the world, nor the nearest.

  Yeshua smiles. “That was well told, Yoni. I do not think any man could have told it better.”

  Yoni goes and reclines in his place. His father, Zavdai, rumples his hair. His brother, Big Yaakov, pounds his shoulder. His sisters smile on him with tears of pride in their eyes.

  Yeshua turns to me. “But there is more to be told, and Little Yaakov is the best man to tell that tale. Please.”

  Yeshua leans back on his elbow.

  My heart quivers in my chest.

  I do not know how I am to best Yoni. That boy talks more than any man ever did. More than any woman. I will never be a man of smooth words. I am a man of mighty deeds. A man with a great yetzer hara.

  Yeshua smiles on me as he knows me to be a mighty hammer, like Aaron the brother of Moses.

  In the instant, I feel a big power in my veins, and I know I can do this thing.

  Also, I know how to do this thing.

  I will tell the Tale of Seven Brothers.

  It is a tale every man of Israel knows well.

  But I will tell the tale as it was never told before.

  I leap to my feet and spring to the center of the courtyard.

  I feel the weight of all their eyes on me.

  I begin the tale.

  The Tale of Seven Brothers

  “Many hundred years ago, our fathers sinned a big sin. HaShem was in a big wrath and sent the king of Babylon to make a justice on us. Babylon killed our men in battle. They forced our women to spread legs in the streets. They broke down our city and burned our Temple and threw our dead bodies in the Hinnom Valley, where the worms never die. They slaved our children in a far country.”

  All the courtyard is silent. They have heard this evil tale many times.

  “After seventy years, our people returned and rebuilt our city and our Temple, but HaShem did not return on account of our sins, and the king of Persia ruled us. After two hundreds of years, the king of Greece conquered the king of Persia and ruled us, but still HaShem did not return on account of our sins. The king of Greece died, and his kingdom was divided, but still HaShem did not return on account of our sins. The king of Egypt ruled us a hundred years, but still HaShem did not return on account of our sins. The king of Syria conquered the king of Egypt and ruled us, but still HaShem did not return on account of our sins.”

  I pause a moment and let the silence do its work, making a rage in all our hearts for the next king, the cruel king.

  “A new king arose in Syria, more cruel than any king that ever was. So cruel, we named him the Cruel Satan. The Cruel Satan thought to unmake our laws, which HaShem gave us by our prophet Moses. The Cruel Satan sent his soldiers to our city and took it, but HaShem did nothing on account of our sins. The Cruel Satan sent men to our Temple to sacrifice a pig on the great altar, but HaShem did nothing on account of our sins. The Cruel Satan’s men spread the legs of our women in the Temple courts, but HaShem did nothing on account of our sins. The Cruel Satan’s men found mothers in Israel who had circumcised their sons, and killed them on the Temple Mount, but HaShem did nothing on account of our sins. The Cruel Satan looked through all the land of Israel and found seven brothers, righteous men who would not sin.”

  Until now, the tale is the same as it was always told. But now I will make a shock on them all.

  I point to Shimon the Rock and beckon him to join me in the center.

  Shimon’s eyes pop open, but he does not come forward. He does not understand the matter.

  I beckon him again to join me.

  Shimon sits up, but still he does not come forward. He thinks this is my tale to tell, but he is wrong. Now it will be his tale, also.

  I beckon a third time. “Come up here, First Brother.”

  At last Shimon understands the matter. A big grin spreads across his face. He comes forward, walking proud. The First Brother has a big honor in this tale.

  I point to Yosi and Thin Shimon and Yehuda Dreamhead. I point to Big Yaakov. I point to Andre. “Come here, all of you, and fill up the count of the Seven Brothers.”

  All of them come forward to join me.

  The whole courtyard is alive now. They have heard the Tale of Seven Brothers many times.

  Now they will see it.

  We lock arms together, seven heroes, seven soldiers of HaShem.

  “The Seven Brothers had a mother, gray with years, who was more righteous than any woman.” I point to Imma.

  Imma beams. She springs forward on proud feet. A light like the sun is in her face.

  “The Cruel Satan ordered the First Brother to eat the flesh of a pig.” I pull Shimon the Rock out from our line.

  He wears a fierce look, and proud.

  He should be proud. If the First Brother had failed, the others would have too.

  “The Cruel Satan cut out the tongue of the First Brother. The Cruel Satan cut off his hands. The Cruel Satan cut off his feet. The Cruel Satan ordered the First Brother to be fried alive in a great pan. The First Brother did not sin against HaShem, and he died in a big agony.”

  I push Shimon the Rock to the ground.

  Shimon’s father, Yonah, has a face more fierce than a lion. The light of pride shines in his eyes, for every man hopes his sons will be willing to die with the courage of the First Brother.

  I choose out Big Yaakov next. “The Cruel Satan chose out the Second Brother and made a torture on him like the first. He tore out his hair and cut off his hands and his feet. When the Cruel Satan ordered the Second Br
other to eat the flesh of a pig, he spit the Cruel Satan’s face and cursed him, and then he was fried alive in a great pan. The Second Brother did not sin against HaShem, and he died in a big agony.”

  I push Big Yaakov to the ground.

  His father, Zavdai, leans forward and smiles on his brave son.

  I choose out Yosi. “The Cruel Satan did the same to the Third Brother, who held out his hands to be cut off and told the Cruel Satan, ‘I got these hands from HaShem, and I will get them back again in the Last Day.’ Then he cursed the Cruel Satan and was fried alive in the pan, and he died in a big agony.”

  I push Yosi to the ground.

  Imma’s eyes run over with tears, but there is a look of iron in her face.

  “The Fourth Brother was tortured the same by the Cruel Satan. When he died, he told the Cruel Satan, ‘I will be raised again by HaShem on the Last Day, but you will not!’ Then he cursed the Cruel Satan, and he died in a big agony.”

  I push Thin Shimon to the ground.

  “The Fifth Brother was tortured the same by the Cruel Satan. When he died, he told the Cruel Satan, ‘HaShem will not forget that you tortured his people. HaShem will come again and torture you.’ Then he cursed the Cruel Satan, and he died in a big agony.”

  I push Yehuda Dreamhead to the ground.

  “The Sixth Brother was tortured the same by the Cruel Satan. When he died, he told the Cruel Satan, ‘You are deceived to think you do this on your own account. HaShem uses you to punish us for our own sins. But HaShem will forgive us for our sins. HaShem will not forgive you for your sins.’ Then he cursed the Cruel Satan, and he died in a big agony.”

  I push Andre to the ground.

  Every face in the courtyard is pale. They feel the heat of the fires. They smell the stench of the roasting human flesh. They hear the death rattle of the Sixth Brother.

  My mother shakes beside me, so fierce I think her knees will fail her. She knows the Seventh Brother will be tormented worst.

  “The Cruel Satan begged the mother of the Seven Brothers to save her last son. He promised to give the Seventh Brother gold, to name him Friend of the King, to give him honor and power if only he would eat the flesh of a pig. The mother lied to the Cruel Satan and promised to speak favor to her son. But instead she told the Seventh Brother, ‘I held you nine months in my belly and fed you three years at my bosoms. You shall remember that HaShem did not make the world from things that are, but from things that are not. Be a man like your brothers and trust in HaShem to make you again in the Age to Come on the Last Day.’”

  My mother’s face is hard as granite. I never saw her face so proud and strong. She has more mettle than I thought.

  “The Seventh Brother laughed in the face of the Cruel Satan and mocked him to scorn. He told the Cruel Satan, ‘You most vile of all men, you wretch, you haryo! We suffer now on account of our sins, but HaShem will raise us again on the Last Day on account of our righteousness. HaShem will punish you on the Last Day for your sins.’ Then the Seventh Brother cursed the Cruel Satan and spat his eye and mocked him. The Cruel Satan tortured him more terribly than all the other six together. The Seventh Brother cursed the Cruel Satan, and he died in a big agony.”

  My mother throws her arms around me, and I feel her great pride.

  I look around the circle.

  “When the Tale of the Seven Brothers was told through all Israel, HaShem raised up a righteous priest. All Israel called this man the Hammer, Yehuda Makkabi. He and his four brothers fought the Cruel Satan, and they took back the Temple and Jerusalem and the land of Israel, and they ruled in Jerusalem a hundred years, but HaShem still has not returned on account of our sins. And now the Great Satan rules in our land, and this is the final hour. HaShem wills that we take back our land and drive out the Great Satan and find a man to rule on the throne of our father David, and then HaShem will return and forgive us our sins. And HaShem will raise up new Makkabi heroes to do it, five brothers against the four Powers. The first Power is the one nearest us, and that is the Cruel Satan, Syria.”

  Yaakov of Nazareth

  Every eye is weeping. The women hug their children close. The men grin with fierce grins.

  Yeshua’s face twists and his eyes clench tight. His face is in a big agony, more than the Seventh Brother when they fried him in the great pan.

  I am sure I have won. Yoni told a great tale, but I told a greater, even though I am not a man of smooth words.

  HaShem gave me the words for the tale. HaShem told me to show the tale, and not tell it only. HaShem will raise me up to be the mighty hammer that will destroy all the Powers, and last of all, the Great Satan.

  Yeshua comes and gives me a kiss and a kiss and a kiss. He pulls up each of my brothers. He pulls up Shimon the Rock and Andre and Big Yaakov. He sends us all to our places.

  It is only when I recline at my place that I see Yeshua has remained in the center.

  There is a bold look on his face.

  My stomach falls within me.

  Yeshua also has a tale to tell.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Yoni of Capernaum

  I thought my tale was well told, and all would see that the first Power is Egypt.

  But Little Yaakov’s tale was well told also, and I am afraid that now all think the first Power is Syria.

  And now Rabbi Yeshua has a tale.

  I do not wish for Rabbi Yeshua to tell a better tale than mine.

  I am dying to hear him tell a better tale than Little Yaakov’s.

  Rabbi Yeshua begins his tale. “When HaShem led our people by the hand out of Egypt, he took us into the desert until we reached the Mountain of HaShem …”

  I close my eyes to listen and … I see our people. I see many hundred thousand men and women and children. I see their flocks of sheep and goats and cattle. I smell the smoke of their cook-fires sharp in my nostrils. I taste the sweet manna from HaShem on my tongue. I see the Shekinah of HaShem, that guides us in a pillar of cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night.

  And there is our prophet Moses and his servant Joshua.

  I draw to within a stone’s throw of our prophet Moses.

  I draw to within an arm’s length of our prophet Moses.

  I draw to within a finger’s width of our prophet Moses.

  I step inside the skin of our prophet Moses.

  I see with his eyes.

  I breathe with his lungs.

  I feel with his hands.

  I am the prophet Moses.

  The Tale of the Prophet Moses

  I am Moshe, prophet of Yah, and here is the beginning of my tale.

  I climb the mountain with my servant Yehoshua. There we spend forty days in the Presence of Yah, and it feels no more than forty blinks of an eye.

  I am consumed by the love of Yah, who is like a shepherd who carries a lamb on his shoulders.

  Yah writes his law on two tablets of stone with his own finger. I see him draw the letters. I read the glowing words. I feel his law written on my heart. His Torah tells us the way we should walk to have life, to have love, to have freedom.

  I walk with my servant Yehoshua down the mountain, and my feet are light beneath me. I feel as I am the eagle who glides on the wings of the wind.

  As we come near the foot of the mountain, I hear the sound of shouting. I smell the smoke of the feast-fires. I feel the mighty beat of the dance-drums.

  We round the last bend, and there is all Israel, mired in sin.

  They have built a golden image of Apis, the bull-god of Egypt. Its bull parts hang beneath it, huge and obscene.

  Young virgins stand crowded around the image, forced together in a sweaty circle, naked, smeared with paint, their shocked faces twisted in a big terror.

  Men crowd around them. They put rough hands on innocent skin. They seize one girl and pull her out from the others. They throw her to the ground. They fall on her and force her to spread legs. They use her for a pleasure. They seize another, and another, and another. The girls
scream and scream.

  Two strong men pin one young girl standing up between them, both using her for a pleasure, stealing her innocence, laughing on her fear, while she screams and screams with none to defend her.

  My face feels hot as a smelter’s furnace, and my fists become hammers. I crush the stone tablets of Yah in my fingers.

  I run toward the abomination, shouting louder than the voice of Yah.

  I reach the crowd of sweating men.

  I smite one on the skull with my fist.

  He falls to the ground senseless.

  I tear another off a sobbing girl and fling him against the statue of the bull.

  He lies there crumpled and still.

  I see the two men taking their pleasure on the one girl, grinning on each other over the top of her head.

  She screams and screams and screams in a big agony.

  I fly at them in the rage of my fury. I seize their hair with my two hands. I slam their heads together, once, twice, three times.

  The men fall senseless to the ground.

  The girl’s knees buckle.

  I catch her before she can fall in the filth around us.

  She is weeping, screaming, gurgling, gasping, choking.

  I take off my own cloak and cover her nakedness. I hold her in my arms, this poor lamb of the heart of Yah, crushed by the sin of her own people.

  I shout with a mighty shout.

  All the wicked men fall to the ground, covering their ears.

  The naked young women run shrieking away, covering their woman parts with their hands, crying tears of rage at the evil done on them.

  My brother Aharon scuttles toward me, wringing his hands. “I … we thought you were dead. You were gone long on the mountain, and the people said Yah had abandoned us. They gave me the gold of their ears, and I made fire and heated the gold, and the bull sprang out, fully formed and—”

  “Silence, fool.”

  Aharon stands with his mouth hanging open.

  A woman approaches me, her face twisted with tears. She reaches for the girl in my arms. “My poor child!”