The Expected One

by Kathleen McGowan

  Claudia hugged her beautiful boy as she watched the retreating form of the Nazarene healer and his tiny wife blend into the raucous Jerusalem crowd.

  “Thank you,” she whispered to them. And strangely, though they were now too far to be seen, she knew they had heard her.

  The healing of Pilo was a double-edged sword for Pontius Pilate. He was delighted to have his son restored and healed completely. The boy was whole in a way that neither he nor Claudia had ever imagined was possible. He was now a proper heir to a Roman legacy, a child who could become a man and a soldier. But the method of his healing was disturbing. Worse, both Claudia and Pilo were now obsessed with this Nazarene, who was something of a thorn in the sides of both the Roman authorities and the Temple priests.

  Pilate had met with Caiaphas and Annas, at their request, earlier in the day to discuss the mob scene at the eastern gates. The Nazarene had arrived on an ass in the manner predicted by one of their Jewish prophets, upsetting the priests with what they felt was a declaration of messianic proportions. While the religious squabbles of the Jews were not Pilate’s immediate problem, this Nazarene was rumored to be calling himself a king of the Jews, which was treason against Caesar. Pilate was feeling pressure to take some action against this Easa if he made one more controversial move in Jerusalem as Passover approached.

  To complicate matters, Herod, the tetrarch of Galilee, had come out against Easa privately in a message to Pilate. “I have information that this man would make himself king over all the Jews. He has become dangerous to me, to you, and to Rome.”

  Those were Pilate’s logistical problems. His philosophical issues were another matter entirely.

  What force did this Nazarene control or channel that allowed him to do such things as raise a child from the dead? Had it not been for Pilo, Pilate would have thought Easa’s miracles were pure trickery and conceded to the Pharisees’ accusations of blasphemy. But Pilate knew better than anyone that Pilo’s illness and deformity were very real. Or at least they had been. Now they were simply gone.

  There was something here that had to be explained. Roman reason demanded an answer, an understanding of what had occurred. Pontius Pilate was very frustrated when he could not find one.

  But his wife needed no such convincing. She had witnessed two great miracles, had basked in the presence and glory of the Nazarene and his God; Claudia Procula was an instant convert. She was both displeased and disappointed when her husband refused to allow her to attend any of Easa’s preachings in Jerusalem. She wished to take Pilo, to allow her son to meet this amazing Nazarene who was more than a man. Pilate forbade it, vehemently.

  The Roman procurator was a complex man, filled with doubt, fear, and ambition. The tragedy of Pontius Pilate would come when all of these things outweighed whatever he had once possessed in love, strength, or gratitude.

  It was very late by the time the Nazarenes arrived at Joseph’s house. Easa, as ever, was wide awake and preparing for one more gathering with his closest followers before retiring. They were weighing their options in Jerusalem the following day. Mary stayed to hear the discussion to get an indication of what the next day would hold. The incident at Jairus’ house made it clear that the people of Jerusalem were divided on the issue of Easa the messiah. There were more supporters than detractors, but they all suspected that the detractors were powerful men attached to the Temple.

  Judas spoke to the assembled men. He appeared drawn and exhausted, yet the exhilaration of what he had witnessed at Smedia’s deathbed was keeping him going.

  “Jairus took me aside as we were leaving,” he told them. “He is far more inclined to support us now that he has seen that Easa is truly the messiah. He warned that the councils of Pharisees and Sadducees were disturbed by the throngs of Nazarene supporters who entered the city. We are stronger in number than they ever imagined. They are afraid of us and likely to take action if they feel we pose a threat to them or to the peace of the Temple during Passover.”

  Peter spat on the floor in disgust. “We all know why. Passover is the most profitable time of the year at the Temple. The greatest number of sacrifices are made and the most money is exchanged.”

  “It’s harvest time for the merchants and moneylenders,” added his brother Andrew.

  “And the chief profiteers among them are Jonathan Annas and his son-in-law,” Judas agreed. “It won’t surprise any of you that those two are at the head of the campaign to discredit us. We have to tread very carefully here or they will push Pilate to issue an arrest warrant for Easa.”

  Easa held up his hand as the men began to talk over each other in their agitation. “Peace, my brothers,” he said. “We will go to the Temple tomorrow and show our brothers Annas and Caiaphas that it is not our intention to challenge them. We can exist peacefully together and do not need to exclude each other. We will go as celebrants in a holy week, along with our Nazarene brothers. They cannot deny us admittance, and perhaps we will find a truce with them.”

  Judas was uncertain. “I don’t think you will get any compromise out of Annas. He despises us and everything we teach. The last thing Annas and Caiaphas want is for the people to believe that they don’t need the Temple to reach God.”

  Mary rose from her place on the floor and smiled warmly at Easa across the room. He caught her eye and returned the expression as his wife turned quietly to leave by the rear door. She was too tired for strategy now. Besides, if Easa was determined to make a showing at the Temple the following day, she had a strong feeling that they would all need some rest.

  Mary was sharing a room with the children, as she always did when they traveled. She believed this gave them a sense of security, a necessary element for children who had an often nomadic existence. They were both angelic in their sleep: John-Joseph, with his sweeping, dark eyelashes resting on his olive cheeks, and Sarah-Tamar, nestled in a cloud of shiny, auburn hair.

  Their mother resisted the urge to kiss them. Tamar particularly was a light sleeper, and she did not want to wake either of them. The children would need their rest if they wanted to accompany her into Jerusalem tomorrow — they found the city so exciting and colorful. As long as it remained safe for them in Jerusalem, she would allow it. But if circumstances became tumultuous for Easa, she would need to get the children away from the city. If the worst were to happen, even Joseph’s lands would not be safe. She would have to get them to Bethany and into the safety of Martha and Lazarus’ home.

  Mary finally settled in her own bed and closed her eyes to the eventful day. But sleep would not come easily, although she desired it and needed it badly. There were too many thoughts and images in her head. In her mind’s eye she saw the woman in the heavy veil, the one who had been carrying the child outside of Jairus’ house. Mary knew two things instantly upon seeing that woman’s face. First, she was neither a Jew nor a commoner. There was something in the way she held herself and in the quality of the veil that belied any attempt to blend in with the common folk. And Mary knew full well when a woman was trying to disguise herself; hadn’t she done it herself many times when the situation warranted?

  The second thing Mary had noticed was the woman’s utter despair. She had felt the desperation flowing from her; it was almost as if the grief itself had called out for Easa’s help. When Mary looked into the woman’s face, she had seen the same sense of loss that every mother feels when she is helpless to save her child. It is a pain that knows no race, creed, or class, a grief that can be shared only by suffering parents. During the last three years of their ministry Mary had seen that face numerous times. But many times she had also watched as that face changed from despair to joy.

  Easa had saved many of Israel’s children. And now, it appeared, he may have saved one of Rome’s.

  Easa and his followers went to the Temple as planned the following day. Mary took the children into Jerusalem with her, stopping to witness the activity and debate occurring outside the hallowed walls. Easa was in the center of a large and gro
wing crowd, preaching the kingdom of God. Men in the crowd challenged him and asked questions, all of which he answered with his usual calm. Easa’s answers were thorough and incorporated the teachings of scripture. It was not long before it became obvious to all that his knowledge of the law could not be challenged.

  Later, through information supplied by Jairus, they would discover that Annas and Caiaphas had planted their own men in the crowd. The were instructed to ask deliberately challenging questions. If any of Easa’s answers could be interpreted as blasphemous, particularly in such close proximity to the Temple and with so many witnesses, the high priests would have further evidence to use against him.

  One man came forward to ask a question on the issue of marriage. Judas saw the man and recognized him; he whispered into Easa’s ear that this was a Pharisee who had put aside his older wife to marry a younger one.

  “Tell me, Rabbi,” the man asked, “is it lawful for a man to put his wife away for any cause? I have heard you say it is not, and yet the law of Moses says otherwise. Moses wrote of a bill of divorcement.”

  Easa spoke out so that his voice rose loud and clear over the crowd. His reply was harsh because he knew of the man’s personal transgressions. “Moses wrote this precept because of the hardness of your heart.”

  The crowd consisted primarily of men from Jerusalem to whom this Pharisee was known. There was a rumble through these men at the implied insult. But Easa wasn’t finished. He was tired of these corrupt Pharisees who lived like decadent kings off the donations from poor and pious Jews. He viewed this current batch of priests, men who were charged to uphold the law with utmost integrity, as hypocrites. They preached a holy life but certainly did not live one. During the recent years of his ministry Easa had come to realize that the people of Jerusalem had been cowed by these men; they feared the Pharisees’ power as much as they did that of Rome. In many ways these men of the Temple were as dangerous to the common Jews as the Romans because they had the authority to affect their everyday existence in as many ways.

  “Have you not read the scriptures?” Easa’s question was another assault on the man he knew to be a priest. Then he turned to address the crowd at large. “He who made them at the beginning made them male and female, and said, ‘For this cause shall a man leave father and mother and cleave unto his wife, and the two shall become one flesh, wherefore they are no more two but one. What God has put together let no man tear asunder.’ And I say unto you whoever puts away a wife, other than for adultery, commits adultery himself.”

  “If this is the case, perhaps it is not good to marry,” joked a man in the crowd.

  Easa did not laugh. The sacrament of marriage and the importance of family life were cornerstones of the Nazarene way. He spoke out against this idea. “Some men are born eunuchs and others have been made eunuchs. For those men alone is marriage unacceptable. Let all men who are able to receive the sacrament of marriage receive it, for it is the will of the Lord our father. And let him cling unto his wife until death do them part.”

  Stung, the Pharisee fought back. “And what of you, Nazarene? The law of Moses says that any man who would be an anointed one must marry a virgin, and never a harlot or even a widow.” It was an overt attack on Mary Magdalene, who stood back from the crowd with her children. She had elected to dress plainly to blend into the crowd and was not wearing the red veil of her station. She was glad of it at that moment as she waited for Easa’s reply.

  His response was another question to the Pharisee. “Am I a David?”

  The man nodded. “That is not in question.”

  “And was David a great king and an anointed one of our people?”

  The Pharisee replied in the affirmative, aware that he was being led into a trap but unsure how to extricate himself from it.

  “Would you not ask that I emulate David if I am to be his heir? Who here would not think it a fine and honorable thing to walk in the steps of David?” Easa’s question rang out through the crowd, who acknowledged with nods and gestures that it would indeed be a fine thing to model oneself after the Great Lion of Judah.

  “For that is exactly what I have done. As David wed the widow Abigail, who was a fine and well-bred daughter of Israel, so have I wed a widow with noble blood.”

  The Pharisee knew he had been snared by his own trap and sunk back into the crowd. But the men of the Temple power structure were not easily deterred. As questions were fired at Easa, his answers became like sharp, pointed arrows fired back at the Pharisees. Another man, this one dressed openly in priestly garb, came at Easa with open aggression. “I have heard that you and your disciples transgress the tradition of the elders. Why do they not wash their hands when they eat bread?”

  The crowd had been stirring during these last exchanges. There was dissent in the air, and Easa knew he would have to take a stand. These men of Jerusalem were not the same as those of Galilee and the outer regions. Here in the city the men required action. They might follow a king who could lead them out of bondage, but he would have to prove his strength and his worthiness first.

  Easa’s rich voice rang out, not in defense of the Nazarenes so much as in condemnation of the priests. “Why do you transgress the commandments of God by your tradition, you hypocrites?” The open insult rang off the stone walls of the Temple. “My cousin John called you vipers, and he was right to do so.” The reference to the Baptizer was a canny inclusion to gain the support of the more conservative men in the crowd. “John was known as Isaiah incarnate, and it was Isaiah who said, ‘These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.’ Now I see that you Pharisees make yourselves clean on the outside, but internally you are full of greed and wickedness. Did not the Lord who made what is without also make what is within?”

  Easa raised his voice to make a final point. “And this is the difference between my Nazarenes and these priests,” he said. “We care for the cleanliness of our souls, that we may keep God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.”

  “This is blasphemy against the Temple!” one man shouted from the crowd. Then a great roar erupted — with some in agreement, others in opposition.

  The noise and commotion in the crowd were escalating. Watching from an elevated space above the Temple walls, Mary thought at first that this was solely a reaction to Easa’s bold words. Indeed, much of the consternation among the men of Jerusalem did stem from that. But several of the Nazarene disciples were pushing through the throng to get to Easa, leading a huddled group of men and women who had heard of the miraculous healings. They were a wretched lot, tragedies who were considered less than human in their blindness or their lameness.

  The moneylenders and the merchants raised objections as these damaged ones moved through the Temple complex. This was their most profitable week, and this crowd was now encroaching on the business of the Temple. When a blind man fell into a merchant’s table, scattering his wares, tempers flared. The merchant came after the blind man with a stick, shouting insults at the poor wretch and at the Nazarenes. Easa came to the aid of the blind man, setting him on his feet gently and whispering something into his ear. Motioning to his disciples to move the injured masses to the side, Easa turned over the other tables of the cruel merchant who had attacked the blind man. He yelled to be heard over the growing din. “It is written that God’s Temple should be a house of prayer. You have made it a den of thieves.”

  Other merchants shouted at Easa in defiance as he moved through the Temple complex. The chaos bordered on rioting until Easa held up his hands and asked his disciples to follow him to the front of the Temple complex. Here, the unfortunates with their infirmities, diseases, and lameness were brought forth. Beginning with the blind man, Easa healed each and every one of them.

  The crowds around the Temple grew to great numbers. Despite Easa’s daring words, or perhaps because of them, the men and women of Jerusalem were very interested in this Nazarene, this man who healed in seconds the illnesses of many decades. Mary could
no longer see him from her vantage point. Besides, Tamar and John were restless with the energy of small children in an exciting environment. Mary moved away from the spectacle to take the children into the marketplace.

  As they walked through the cobbled roads, Mary saw the black robes of two Pharisees ahead of her. She was certain she had overheard Easa’s name on their lips. Pulling her plain veil to cover most of her face, she kept pace with them, pushing the children forward. The men were speaking openly, but they were doing so in Greek — likely because they knew the common people around them would not understand the more worldly language. But Mary, an educated noblewoman, spoke Greek fluently.

  She understood completely when one of the men turned to his companion and said, “As long as this Nazarene is alive, we will have no peace. The sooner we are rid of him, the better for us all.”

  Mary found Bartolome in the marketplace; he had been sent to purchase provisions for the other disciples. Mary told him to go back to Easa and tell him and the followers that they should not stay with Joseph that night. They would need to get out of Jerusalem for the sake of Easa’s safety. Mary believed that the home she once shared with Lazarus and Martha in Bethany was the best choice. It was a safe distance from Jerusalem, yet it would not take too long to get back into the city — or out of it quickly.

  Easa met Mary and the children in Bethany later that evening. Some of the disciples stayed with them at the home of Lazarus, while others went to the neighboring home of Simon, their trusted friend. It had been at Simon’s house that Mary had disobeyed Lazarus and John with such disastrous consequences years ago. The disciples gathered on this night to discuss the events of the day and plan for what awaited them.

  Mary was worried. She sensed that the opinion in Jerusalem was split — half in favor of the brilliant Nazarene who was a miracle worker and a defender of the poor, and half opposed to an upstart who would challenge the Temple and their traditions in such an unapologetic way. She repeated the conversation of the priests as she had overheard it in the marketplace. As she spoke, Judas arrived from the home of Jairus with more news.