Mary nodded solemnly. She would walk the path that was now laid before her; this was her responsibility as a daughter of Israel. Easa’s words of love and strength would get her through it.
He kissed the top of her head lightly, then turned to take his leave.
“You are so strong for such a little one,” he said gently. “I have always seen that strength in you. You will be a great queen one day, a leader of our people.”
He stopped at the door to look at her one last time and leave her with a final thought. He touched his hand to his heart.
“I will be with you always.”
John the Baptizer was not as easily manipulated as Jonathan Annas and his council had anticipated.
When they came to him with their proposal, John railed against their lack of righteousness and called them vipers. He reminded them that there was already a messiah in his cousin, a prophet chosen by God, and that he, John, was not worthy to fill such shoes. The priests countered that the people were calling John a greater prophet, the heir to Elias.
But John answered, “I am none of those things.”
“Then tell us what you are so we may tell the people of Israel who would follow you as a prophet and a king,” they asked.
John answered in his enigmatic way, “I am the voice in the wilderness.”
He sent the Pharisees away, but the canny young priest Caiaphas had caught John’s strange pronouncement, “I am the voice in the wilderness,” as a reference to the prophet Isaiah. Was John actually calling himself a prophet through a maze of scripture? Was he testing the priests in some way?
The priestly envoys returned the next day, and this time they petitioned John for baptism. He insisted on their repentance of all sin before he would consider it. This rankled the priests, but they knew they must play by John’s rules or risk losing him as the key to their strategy. Receiving baptism by John would strengthen their position with the multitudes who were announcing John as a prophet, which was precisely the point.
When the priests affirmed their repentance, John immersed them in the Jordan, but reminded them, “I will indeed baptize you with water, but he that comes after will be mightier than I in the eyes of God.”
The priests stayed with John that day and spoke to him of their plan once the crowds had diminished at the riverbank. John wanted none of it. Among the objectionable issues, he was entirely opposed to taking a wife and certainly not a woman who had been betrothed to his cousin. But the council was prepared for John’s objections and had considered them carefully due to his vehemence the previous day. They spoke of Lazarus, the righteous and fine noble from the house of Benjamin, and how that good man feared for his pious sister to be married within the Nazarene influence.
The Baptizer flinched at this revelation. This notion was John’s weakness. Although he deferred to the prophecies that Yeshua was the chosen one, he had growing concerns about the path his cousin was walking with the Nazarenes and their blatant disregard for the law. John dismissed them and called the discussion to a close.
The priests left without any change in John’s resolve.
Later that day, Easa arrived on the eastern banks of the Jordan to fulfill the promise he had made to Annas. A large entourage of followers attended Easa, and this meeting of two such celebrated men attracted the people in throngs along the river. John put out his hand to stop Easa from coming forward.
“You come to me for baptism?” he asked. “Perhaps I have more need to be baptized by you, as you are the chosen of God.”
Easa smiled in return. “Cousin, this is how it must be now. It becomes us to fulfill the path of righteousness.”
John nodded, showing no surprise or other emotion at Easa’s blatant statement of acceptance. This was the first time the two of them had come together since the manipulations of Jonathan Annas and their first opportunity to size up the other. The Baptizer steered Easa away from the ears of the crowd and spoke in carefully considered words, measuring his cousin’s perspective.
“He who has the bride is the bridegroom.”
Easa showed no reaction to John’s words. He simply nodded his agreement to this arrangement.
John continued, “But the friend of the bridegroom who stands and hears him rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. I can take joy in this, your selfless gift of righteousness, if it is true that you give it freely.”
Easa nodded his assent once again. “I will be fulfilled to be the friend of the bridegroom. I must decrease for you to increase, and so be it.”
It was a word play, a dance of sorts, between the two great prophets as each took notice of the other’s political stance. Satisfied that his cousin had agreed peacefully to submit his position as well as his bride, John turned to the assembled throng on the banks of the Jordan. He made a pronouncement to the people before calling Easa forward.
“After me will come this man, who is preferred before me — because he was chosen before me.”
Easa was submerged into the river as John’s words rang out. These were carefully chosen, indicating that if John were to step into the shoes of the messiah, then Easa would be the heir to his throne if anything were to happen. “He was chosen before me” was a clear indication that John still acknowledged the prophecies from Easa’s birth. This phrasing would protect John with the moderates who supported John and were afraid of the Nazarene reforms, yet still honored Easa as the child of the prophecies. His first words, “After me will come this man,” were an indication that John was considering taking on the role of anointed one. John, the wilderness preacher with his wild clothing and extreme evangelical style, was perhaps an easy man to underestimate. But his actions and words from the banks of the River Jordan that day marked him as a far savvier politician than many imagined.
As Easa emerged from the water, the crowd cheered these two great men, kindred prophets who had been touched by the Lord. But then there was silence in the valley as a single white dove appeared from the heavens and flew gracefully over the head of Easa, the Lion of David. It was a moment that would be remembered by the people of the Jordan Valley and beyond for as long as the earth endured.
Caiaphas returned to the River Jordan the next day with his contingent of Pharisees. He had planned his strategy regarding John very carefully. The baptism of Easa the day before had not served the purpose that he and Annas had planned. They believed that by submitting to baptism Easa would publicly acknowledge John’s authority. Instead, the event had served to remind the people that the troublesome Nazarene was the chosen one of prophecy. Now, more than ever, the Pharisees had to reduce the impact of this idea of Easa as Messiah. The only way to do that was to transfer the title of messiah to someone else as quickly as possible, and the sole acceptable candidate was John.
But John was troubled by the sign of the dove. Didn’t this bird appearing from heaven following the baptism prove that Easa was God’s chosen? John vacillated, returning finally to support of his cousin’s position. Caiaphas, who was a great student of his father-in-law, Annas, was prepared for this possibility and moved in to strike.
“Your Nazarene cousin was with the lepers this day,” he informed John.
John was stunned. There was nothing more unclean than those wretches who had been abandoned by God. And for his cousin to attend these creatures after his baptism was unthinkable.
“You’re certain that this is true?” he asked.
Caiaphas nodded gravely. “Yes, I’m sorry to report that he was in that most unclean place this morning. I am told that he preached the word of the kingdom of God to them. He even allowed them to touch him.”
John was astonished that Easa had fallen so far, so fast. He knew well that the Nazarenes had influenced his cousin profoundly. Wasn’t his mother a Mary, and a leader of that group? But she was a woman and therefore of little importance except that she influenced her son in a great way. Yet if Easa was immersed in the world of the unclean not even a full day after his baptism, perhaps God had turne
d his back on him.
And there was the girl to think of, this daughter of Benjamin. John was deeply disturbed that she was called Mary — a Nazarene name, an indication that the girl had been trained in their unseemly ways.
But the prophecy surrounding the girl herself had to be considered in all seriousness for the sake of the people. She was believed to be the Daughter of Zion as described in the book of the prophet Micah. The passage referred to the Migdal-Eder, the Tower of the Flock, a shepherdess who would lead the people: “ And thou, O tower of the flock, the stronghold of the daughter of Zion, unto thee shall it come…The kingdom shall come to the daughter of Jerusalem.”
If Mary was indeed this prophesied female, John had an obligation to see that she stayed on a straight path of righteousness. Caiaphas assured him that the girl was young enough and certainly pious enough to be trained as John saw fit in the most traditional ways of the law. In fact, her brother begged them to do this before it was too late. The betrothal of this Benjamin princess to Easa had been dissolved based on his Nazarene leanings. This was perfectly acceptable within the law. Hadn’t the high priest, Jonathan Annas, written the documents of dissolution himself?
Most important, Easa and his Nazarene followers did not object to this decision, and promised to uphold John in his anointed position. Easa even agreed to attend the wedding feast as a show of his support. There was nothing in this proposal that was at all objectionable. If John would marry the Benjamin princess and become the anointed one, his baptism numbers would increase tenfold. He would reach so many more sinners and show them the path to repentance. He would become the Teacher of Righteousness from the prophecies of their ancestors.
Faced with the opportunity to convert more sinners and teach God’s path of penance to the children of Israel, John agreed to marry the Benjamin girl and take his place in the history of his people.
The wedding of Mary, the daughter of the house of Benjamin, and John the Baptizer, from the priestly lineage of Aaron and Zadok, took place on the hill of Cana in Galilee. It was well attended by nobles, Nazarenes, and Pharisees. As promised, Easa attended with his mother, his brothers, and a group of their disciples.
John’s pious mother, Elisabeth, had been a cousin of Easa’s mother, Mary. But both Elisabeth and her husband, Zacharias, had been dead for a number of years by the time of their son’s wedding. There was no immediate relative to make the proper arrangements for the celebration, and John himself was neither knowledgeable nor concerned about the protocol. When the Great Mary observed that the guests were not properly provided for, she stepped in to take charge of the preparations as an elder female of John’s kin. She went to where her own son sat with several of his followers and said, “They have not enough wine for the wedding feast.”
Easa listened to his mother carefully. “What has this to do with me?” he asked her. “This is not my wedding. It would not be proper for me to intervene.”
The elder Mary disagreed and said so to her son. First, she felt an obligation to ensure that the wedding feast was appropriate in memory of Elisabeth. But beyond that, Mary was a wise woman who knew the people and the prophecies. This would be an opportune time to remind the assembled nobles and priests of her son’s unique position in their community. Easa agreed with some reluctance.
Summoning the servants, Mary gave them instructions. “Whatever he asks of you, do it without question.”
The servants waited for Easa’s direction. After a moment he requested that they bring six large pots to him, each filled to the brim with water. The servants did this, placing the clay water pots before him. He closed his eyes and said a prayer, running his hands over each of the containers as he did so. When he had finished, he instructed the servants to draw out the liquid. The first serving woman did so, and dropped her serving cup. The clay pots were no longer filled with water. A rich and sweet red wine filled each one.
Easa instructed a servant to take a cup of wine to Caiaphas, who officiated at the ceremony. Caiaphas lifted his glass to John, the bridegroom, and praised him for the quality of the wine.
“Most serve fine wine early in the day and save the poor quality for the end, when few will notice,” Caiphas joked. “But you have saved the best wine for last.”
John looked to Caiaphas with some confusion. Neither he nor the priest had any knowledge of what had transpired. The only inkling that anything was out of the ordinary was the low mumbling of a few servants in the background and a few of the Nazarene disciples. But it would not be long before everyone in Galilee knew exactly what had taken place at the wedding in Cana.
Following the wedding of John and Mary, no one was speaking of the bride and bridegroom. Indeed, the dynastic merge had been completely overshadowed by something more extraordinary. The subject of discussion among the common people was the miraculous transformation of water into wine by the younger prophet. In this, the northern region of Galilee, the name of Easa was on everyone’s lips. He was their only messiah, regardless of the manipulations that stemmed from the Temple.
John’s power and popularity grew to the south, from the banks of the Jordan near Jericho, through Jerusalem, and down into the desert areas of the Dead Sea. Fueled by the Temple priests, the numbers of John’s followers swelled until the banks of the river were overflowing with men petitioning for baptism. John’s insistence that these men keep the law in strictest accordance increased the number of sacrifices — and therefore the coffers in the Temple. Everyone was pleased with the outcome of their arrangement.
Everyone save Mary Magdalene, who was now wed to the Baptizer.
It was perhaps a blessing that this was a union desired by neither the bride nor the bridegroom. John wanted only to remain in the wilderness and do God’s work. He would abide by the law, which required men to be fruitful and multiply, and visit his wife at the appropriate times for reasons of procreation. But other than those periods specifically dictated by law and tradition, he had no interest in keeping the company of any woman.
Settling on a place for Mary to live had been the first order of business for the newly wed John. He made no secret that she was not welcome in the vicinity of his ministry. Indeed, the Qumran Essenes did not allow women to live with them at all, but exiled them to separate buildings because they were naturally unclean. And John’s mother was dead, which was problematic. Had Elisabeth been alive, Mary would have lived in the home of her in-laws.
The issue was discussed by John and Lazarus prior to the wedding, and Mary had prompted her brother on her wishes. Lazarus urged that his sister be allowed to continue to live with him and Martha on their family estates in Magdala and Bethany. This would provide Mary with constant companionship as well as the chaperoning of a pious man and woman. And Bethany was an easy enough distance from Jericho, for those rare occasions when John was required to visit his wife.
It was an appropriate solution and an easy one for John, who had little interest in Mary’s general activities other than the assurance that she conduct herself as a pious and repentant woman at all times. If this girl was to be the mother of his son, she must be beyond reproach. Mary assured John that in his absence she would obey her brother as she always had. She tried not to let her joy show when the agreement was made for her to stay with Lazarus and Martha.
But Mary’s pleasure was short-lived as John laid down the rest of his laws. He would not suffer Mary to be in the presence of Nazarene teachings. She would not be allowed to visit the home of the Great Mary, her most revered teacher and friend. And she would certainly never appear in public where Easa was speaking. John was rankled by the fact that some of his own disciples had left the banks of the Jordan to follow his cousin. The Baptizer berated them for becoming Nazarenes and called them by the accursed title “seekers after smooth things.” A rivalry was developing gradually between the very different ministries of the Nazarene Easa and the ascetic Baptizer. John would not be shamed by his own wife; she must never be allowed in the presence of the Nazare
nes. John extracted this as a solemn vow from Lazarus.
Young, naïve, and never exposed to anything but love and acceptance, Mary attempted to argue this with John, but met the first of her husband’s blows as she tried to object. John’s hand left an imprint on Mary’s cheek for the remainder of the day as a firm reinforcement that she would not argue with him about matters of obedience. The Baptizer abandoned his bride to her home in Magdala the same day without so much as a farewell.
Mary dreaded John’s visits and was grateful that they happened seldom and were separated by long periods of time. John came to Bethany only when he was in the vicinity for his own purposes, usually when traveling from his riverside shrine to Jerusalem. He inquired after Mary’s health formally, and when it was appropriate under the law he performed the duties of a husband. During these visits John would spend time instructing Mary on the law and providing penitent tasks all the while advising her that the kingdom of God was at hand.
As a princess of the house of Benjamin, Mary knew it was unseemly to compare her husband to another, but she could not help it. Her days and nights were filled with thoughts of Easa and all he had taught her. It amazed her that both Easa and John preached much the same thing — that the kingdom of God was approaching — because the meaning was so different for the two prophets. From John, it was an ominous message, a dire warning of terror for the unrighteous. From Easa, it was a beautiful opportunity for all people who opened their hearts to God.
On the day Mary learned that Easa was coming to Bethany with his mother and a group of Nazarene followers, she felt the joy return to her heart for the first time in many, many days.
“They will not stay here. And you cannot go to see them, Mary. Your husband forbids it.” Lazarus set his face like a stone against his sister’s pleading.
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