Son of Mary
Page 53
The scripture verses in the epigraph at the front of the book are taken from the New American Standard Bible ® (NASB), Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. www.Lockman.org
All other quotations from the Hebrew Bible in the text are the author’s rough translations.
All maps are drawn by the author in Ortelius, creative map design software for the Mac. mapdiva.com
Cover design by Alexander von Ness, nessgraphica.com
ISBN: 978-1-937031-24-4
Created with Vellum
To Eunice and our girls, Carolyn, Gracie, and Amy.
Acknowledgments
I thank:
My wife, Eunice, who believed in me, always.
Chip MacGregor and Lee Hough, my agents who suggested I write a novel about Jesus back in September of 2004. Rest in peace, Lee.
Meredith Efken, my macro editor since forever, who talked me through sixteen drafts.
John Olson and Jeff Hilton, two friends who stick closer than a brother.
Tosca Lee, for telling me many times that the project must not die.
The Masterminds: Jim Rubart, Lacy Williams, Mary DeMuth, Susan May Warren, Thomas Umstattd, Tracy Higley, Tricia Goyer. Not forgetting our latest members: Brennan McPherson and Susan Seay.
Prof. James Tabor, who shares my obsession with the family of Jesus and all things Jerusalem.
Ted Dekker, for all those hours on the phone talking about Rabbi Yeshua.
Mel Hughes, my beta reader, who asked good questions.
Yoni Adoni, who helped me take my first steps in Hebrew.
My dozens of friends at Kehilat Ariel, who taught me Torah and the prayers.
My hundreds of friends in Chi Libris, who taught me to confront.
My thousands of friends in ACFW, OCW, CRCW, CIA, and SDCWG.
The Mount Zion Archaeological Dig, directed by Shimon Gibson, James Tabor, and Rafi Lewis.
The Magdala Archaeological Dig, directed by Marcela Zapata-Meza.
Glossary
Abba: Father.
amphora: a ceramic container for holding liquids or dry goods.
ba’al: literally “lord.” A ba’al can be either human or supernatural. A common word for husband is “ba’al.”
bema: the podium from which the Torah or prophets were read.
borit: any of a number of plants having a high saponin content that could be used as a primitive soap.
dinar: a silver coin, the standard payment for a day’s wage for a working man. Often rendered as “denarius.”
Gehenna: literally “Valley of Hinnom,” the valley on the south and east sides of Jerusalem. This was the site of child-sacrifices in ancient Israel, and was the dump site where bodies were thrown after Babylon destroyed Jerusalem in the sixth century BC. The word signifies horror and desolation. At some point, it came to also mean a place of punishment after death, not necessarily for all eternity.
goy: gentile.
haryo: dung.
HaShem: literally “The Name.” Used out of respect in place of the actual name of God, which is typically written Yah or Yahveh.
hazzan: cantor.
Imma: Mother.
logos: literally “word” in Greek, but used to refer to the divine Reason behind the universe. In Jewish circles, “Wisdom” played a similar role.
mamzer: the exact definition is hard to pin down and seems to have varied over the centuries. In the first century, a mamzer was probably the offspring of a man and woman who could not legally marry. This was more severe than mere illegitimacy. If a child was the result of sexual relations between a man and woman who later married, the child was not a mamzer.
mikveh: a ritual bath, used for purification rites as described in Leviticus.
Nephilim: legendary superhuman offspring of divine male spirits with human women.
Pesach: the feast of Passover, celebrated in the spring after the barley harvest.
phantasm: ghost.
philosophos: philosopher.
Purim: a feast celebrating the victory of Queen Esther and her cousin Mordecai over their genocidal enemies in Persia.
Rosh HaShanah: literally “head of the year,” the New Year, celebrated in the fall.
saq: a coarse cloth made of animal hair, traditionally worn during mourning or repentance.
satan: literally “enemy,” often translated “accuser.” A satan could be any adversary, human or supernatural, and either individual or a group.
Savta: Grandmother.
shalom: literally “peace,” often used as a greeting.
Shavuot: the feast of Pentecost, celebrated in early summer after the wheat harvest.
Shekinah: literally “Presence,” often used for the actual Presence of God on earth.
Sheol: literally “the grave,” the abode of the dead, traditionally a dismal place, with its occupants having little or no consciousness.
Sukkot: the feast of Tabernacles, celebrated in the fall.
tekton: a worker in wood, metal, or stone. This was the occupation of Jesus, traditionally translated as “carpenter.”
tsaddik: literally “righteous one,” a traditional term for an exceptionally good, kind, and holy man.
tsaraat: originally any of several skin diseases, but this later came to be used for Hansen’s disease (modern leprosy).
wadi: a desert gulley.
yetzer hara: the evil inclination, traditionally considered to be one of two warring inclinations in every person.
Yom Kippur: the Day of Atonement, ten days after the New Year.
zekhut: righteousness as shown by generosity to the poor.
zonah: prostitute.
For Further Reading
Sometime in the spring of 1983, I walked into the library at UC Berkeley “to find a book or two as research for my novel.” I discovered a world vastly bigger than I ever imagined. I have lost count of all the books, articles, and websites I’ve read since then. Some I agreed with; some not.
Here are a few I found especially interesting, surprising, or shocking:
Nahman Avigad, Discovering Jerusalem. Kenneth E. Bailey, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes. Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses. Meir Ben-Dov, In the Shadow of the Temple. F. F. Bruce, New Testament History. F. F. Bruce, Peter, Stephen, James & John. Bruce Chilton, Rabbi Jesus. Shaye J. D. Cohen, From the Maccabees to the Mishnah. Gaalya Cornfeld, Josephus: The Jewish War. John Dominic Crossan, The Historical Jesus. Henri Daniel-Rops, Daily Life in the Time of Jesus. Paula Fredriksen, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. Rene Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightning. Joachim Jeremias, Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus. Chris Keith, Jesus Against the Scribal Elite. Richard M. Mackowski, S.J., Jerusalem, City of Jesus. Bruce J. Malina, The New Testament World. Jacob Neusner, First Century Judaism in Crisis. Jonathan L. Reed, Archaeology and the Galilean Jesus. David M. Rhoads, Israel in Revolution 6-74 C.E.. Jane Schaberg, The Illegitimacy of Jesus. Emil Schurer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, revised and edited by Geza Vermes, Fergus Millar and Matthew Black. James D. Tabor, The Jesus Dynasty. Joan Taylor, The Immerser. Joan Taylor, What Did Jesus Look Like? Walter Wink, The Powers That Be. N.T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God. N.T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God.
About the City of God Series
When I began writing fiction, I had a dream to write a particular kind of suspense novel. It would be similar to the historical suspense Ken Follett writes, and somewhat like the historical action-adventure fiction of Wilbur Smith’s River God, but it would be set in first-century Jerusalem.
Why first-century Jerusalem? Because that place and time set the direction for the next twenty centuries of western civilization. Something big happened in Jerusalem in the first century.
Not just one big thing. Not even two big things. Three big things—the Jesus movement, the Jewish revolt, and the birth of rabbinic Judaism.
And they were re
lated.
My gut instincts told me that the Sunday-School version of those three things wasn’t quite right.
As I dived into research, I found that my instincts were correct. I discovered an amazing and exciting world. I felt sure that many people would care about this world if only they could see it the way I did.
My first published novel was book 1 in what became my City of God series, an epic tale of the Jewish revolt. After three books in City of God, I interrupted work on it.
Why? Because the epic tale of the Jewish revolt is closely tied in with the epic tale of Jesus. So I began work on a project that would go deeper into this strange and mysterious world—the Crown of Thorn series—the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth.
Crown of Thorns is planned to have four books.
When those are done, I plan to return to the City of God series and finish it. Here are the books that I’ve written so far in City of God:
Book 1: Transgression (AD 57)
Book 2: Premonition (AD 57-62)
Book 3: Retribution (AD 62-66)
Sneak Peak at Transgression
What If …?
What if you were studying for your Ph.D. in archaeology and decided to take a break from your crummy life for the summer by working on an archaeological dig in Israel?
What if you met a great guy in Jerusalem who happened to be a world-famous theoretical physicist working on a crazy idea to build a wormhole that might make time-travel possible … someday?
What if he had a nutball colleague who turned the theory into reality — and then decided to use YOU as a guinea pig to make sure it was safe?
What if the nutball had a gun and went on a crazy, impossible mission to hunt down and kill the apostle Paul?
It’s A.D. 57 when Rivka Meyers walks out of the wormhole into a world she’s only studied in books. Ancient Jerusalem is awesome! Rivka can’t believe her friend Ari Kazan’s theory actually worked. But when she runs into Ari’s wacko colleague, Damien West, in the Temple, Rivka starts to smell a rat.
When Ari discovers that Damien and Rivka have gone through a wormhole that’s on the edge of collapse, he has to make a horrible choice: Follow them and risk never coming back — or lose the woman of his dreams forever.
Click here to check out Transgression.
Prologue
Rivka
RIVKA MEYERS KNEW SOMETHING WAS wrong when she bumped into a wall that wasn’t there.
“Ow!” She tugged at the virtual reality headset she had worn for the past half hour. “Dr. West?” she said. “How do I get this thing off?”
No response.
She fumbled with the straps at her chin. “Dr. West? Are you there? Hello?”
The buckle popped loose in her hand. She pulled off the headset and blinked. The lab was much darker than she remembered, and it smelled musty. Why hadn’t she noticed that before?
The game had defocused her vision. While she waited for her eyes to adjust, she put her hand against the wall. It felt rough, stony. Like limestone, said something deep inside her archaeologist’s brain.
But that was impossible. She was in the back part of a physics laboratory. Rivka suddenly felt dizzy, nauseated.
“Dr. West, what’s going on?” she asked in a loud voice. “I’m done playing your computer game.” Her voice echoed oddly in the stillness.
“Dr. West!” She was shouting now, angry. What kind of a prank was he playing? She didn’t like it, and she wanted out. Now.
Rivka turned her head in a slow semicircle, studying her surroundings. In one direction, she could see light from a rough-cut entrance. In the other direction—total darkness. She sniffed. It smelled like…a cave. But it couldn’t be. Not on the third floor of a physics building in downtown Jerusalem.
“God, help me!” It wasn’t a prayer—just a figure of speech. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try the real thing.
Lord…help me get back to the lab. I need to find Ari…
A bead of sweat ran down her back. Did she really want to see Ari again, after what he had said last night?
A footstep scuffled at the lighted end of the room. A deep male voice said something muzzy and indistinct.
Thanks, Father. Rivka turned to look.
Right away, she saw that it wasn’t Ari. Nor Dr. West. At the moment, she didn’t care. Any human being would be welcome. “Excuse me!” she shouted in English and began walking toward the man. “Could you tell me how to get to Ari Kazan’s lab?” She repeated this in Hebrew.
The light grew better as she got closer to him. He wore a black beard and rough garb much like a Bedouin’s…but different. Rivka couldn’t quite place his costume, although she had been in Israel for over a month now and had thought she had seen everything: Arabs in checkered kaffiyehs, Hasidic rabbis in black fur hats, Druze villagers in baggy shirts and pants, sabra girls in string bikinis. This man might well be the janitor or just as easily the department chairman.
The man squinted in her direction. The nearer Rivka came to him, the more she slowed. Finally, she stopped. “Hello?” she said. “Shalom? Salaam?”
He said something in a language she didn’t recognize. The vowel usage reminded her vaguely of Syriac—a notion so ridiculous that Rivka almost laughed out loud. Syriac had been a dead language for centuries.
A little smile formed on the man’s face as he stared at her. His gaze ran up and down her body, seeming to peel away her T-shirt and cutoffs. His eyes lit up with an evil glow that needed no translation.
Rivka’s heart double-thumped, then began a tap dance of panic in her chest. She stepped backward, clutching the virtual reality headset in her hands as though it were a shield. “Dr. West!” she shouted. “Help!”
The man chuckled softly. He took a step toward her, his hands held out to either side to cut off her escape.
“Who are you?” Rivka asked in a loud voice that grated in her own ears. She stepped back again. “Mi attah?” She couldn’t remember how to say it in Arabic.
The man took another step toward her.
Rivka backed rapidly away from him. “Don’t you dare touch me!” she said. “I’m an American! Ani Amerikait!” The words sounded foolish, but she had read somewhere that you had a better chance if you kept talking and put up a fight.
The man gave a yellow smile and kept advancing, catlike.
Rivka stepped back again, and the headset in her hand clunked against something hard. A wall. Her mind spun wildly now, out of control. The man was only a few paces away. Desperate, she lunged forward and screamed, “Get away from me!”
She threw the headset at his face and dodged to her left.
He batted the flimsy missile away with a hairy paw and scooted to his right, keeping between her and the exit. His eyes glowed with animal pleasure. He took another step.
Rivka pulled a key out of her pocket and clenched it tightly. Improvise! Fight! She kept moving sideways, maneuvering for room. Please, Father, save me!
The man feinted forward. She skittered sideways, tripped over a huge bump on the ground, staggered. Then her foot stepped on a marble-sized pebble, and her leg shot out from under her. She landed hard on her back in the dirt. Her key dropped into the loose dirt somewhere nearby.
The man grunted in triumph and rushed at her.
She dug her hands into the soft dust for balance and timed her kick perfectly.
Almost perfectly. At the last instant, he twisted his hips. Not much, but enough.
Her sandal thudded into a very solid thigh. The shock ran up her leg and into her spine. “No!” she screamed, and began kicking her feet in the air like windmills.
His hands snaked at her ankles, caught them, locked them in an iron grip. He laughed softly and forced her feet to the ground. He pinned them down with one enormous hand and leaned forward. Rivka smelled his vinegary breath.
She slashed wildly with her left hand, scratching at his eyes. He jerked his head away.
Point-blank, Rivka flung a handful of fine dust i
nto his eyes. He screamed, clawed at his face. Suddenly, Rivka’s legs came free.
She rolled away from him. He lunged blindly for her, coughing, spitting.
She scrambled up, grabbed another handful of dust, and pitched it into his gaping mouth.
He choked and fell on his face.
Rivka turned and ran. “Ari!” she screamed. “Help!”
She raced outside into the sunlight, sprinted madly through a dark grove of trees with gnarled branches. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her ragged breath rasped in her ears. Was he following? Faster! Tears fogged her eyes. Her leather sandals tore at her feet. Trying to look back over her shoulder, she tripped and fell. Dust flew up all around her.
Coughing, she clambered to her feet and dared to look back. The man was nowhere in sight.
Rivka panted until she caught her breath. Her left wrist throbbed from the fall. She massaged it while she squinted into the trees, afraid that the man might be lurking in the shadows.
Nothing happened.
Finally, she turned around to get her bearings.
She blinked twice and then stared.
Across a small valley massive stone walls rose. Herodian masonry. Jerusalem limestone. Towering white walls. It looked like…
But that was impossible. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply three times, and opened them again. Absurd. Had she gone loony or something?
Rivka had visited the Temple Mount twice and studied hundreds of pictures during three years of graduate school. But she had never seen it looking like this.
So pure.
So spotless.
So new.