Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal

by Christopher Moore

  “I came as soon as I heard.”

  Maggie went to Martha and held her as they both cried. The rest of us stood around feeling awkward. The two old blind guys, Crustus and Abel, whom Joshua had once healed, came over from across the street.

  “Dead, dead and buried four days,” said Crustus. “He turned a sort of chartreuse at the end.”

  “Emerald, it was emerald, not chartreuse,” said Abel.

  “My friend Simon truly sleeps, then,” Joshua said.

  Thomas came up and put his hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “No, master, he’s dead. Thomas Two thinks it may have been a hairball. Simon was a leopard, you know?”

  I couldn’t stand it. “He was a LEPER, you idiot! Not a leopard.”

  “Well, he IS dead!” shouted Thomas back. “Not sleeping.”

  “Joshua was being figurative, he knows he’s dead.”

  “Do you guys think you could be just a little more insensitive?” said Matthew, pointing to the weeping sisters.

  “Look, tax collector, when I want your two shekels I’ll ask—”

  “Where is he?” Joshua asked, his voice booming over the sobs and protests.

  Martha pushed out of her sister’s embrace and looked at Joshua. “He bought a tomb in Kidron,” said Martha.

  “Take me there, I need to wake my friend.”

  “Dead,” said Thomas. “Dead, dead, dead.”

  There was a sparkle of hope amid the tears in Martha’s eyes. “Wake him?”

  “Dead as a doornail. Dead as Moses. Mmmph…” Matthew clamped his hand over Thomas’s mouth, which saved me having to render the twin unconscious with a brick.

  “You believe that Simon will rise from the dead, don’t you?” asked Joshua.

  “In the end, when the kingdom comes, and everyone is raised, yes, I believe.”

  “Do you believe I am who I say I am?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then show me where my friend lies sleeping.”

  Martha moved like a sleepwalker, her exhaustion and grief driven back just enough for her to lead us up the road to the Mount of Olives and down into the Kidron Valley. Maggie had been deeply shaken by the news of her brother’s death as well, so Thomas and Matthew helped her along while I walked with Joshua.

  “Four days dead, Josh. Four days. Divine Spark or not, the flesh is empty.”

  “Simon will walk again if he is but bone,” said Joshua.

  “Okey-dokey. But this has never been one of your better miracles.”

  When we got to the tomb there was a tall, thin, aristocratic man sitting outside eating a fig. He was clean-shaven and his gray hair was cut short like a Roman’s. If he hadn’t worn the two-striped tunic of a Jew I would have thought him a Roman citizen.

  “I thought you would come here,” he said. He knelt before Joshua. “Rabbi, I’m Joseph of Arimathea. I sent word through your disciple Matthew that I wanted to meet with you. How may I serve?”

  “Stand up, Joseph. Help roll away this stone.”

  As with many of the larger tombs carved into the side of the mountain, there was a large flat stone covering the doorway. Joshua put his arms around Maggie and Martha while the rest of us wrestled with the stone. As soon as the seal was broken I was hit with a stench that gagged me and Thomas actually lost his supper in the dirt.

  “He stinks,” said Matthew.

  “I thought he would smell more like a cat,” said Thomas.

  “Don’t make me come over there, Thomas,” I said.

  We pushed the stone as far as it would go, then we ran away gasping for fresh air.

  Joshua held his arms out as if waiting to embrace his friend. “Come out, Simon Lazarus, come out into the light.” Nothing but stench came out of the tomb.

  “Come forth, Simon. Come out of that tomb,” Joshua commanded.

  And absolutely nothing happened.

  Joseph of Arimathea shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I wanted to talk to you about the dinner at my house before you got there, Joshua.”

  Joshua held up his hand for silence.

  “Simon, dammit, come out of there.”

  And ever so weakly, there came a voice from inside the tomb. “No.”

  “What do you mean, ‘no’? You have risen from the dead, now come forth. Show these unbelievers that you have risen.”

  “I believe,” I said.

  “Convinced me,” said Matthew.

  “A no is as good as a personal appearance, as far as I’m concerned,” said Joseph of Arimathea.

  I’m not sure any of us who had smelled the stench of rotting flesh really wanted to see the source. Even Maggie and Martha seemed a little dubious about their brother’s coming out.

  “Simon, get your leprous ass out here,” Joshua commanded.

  “But I’m…I’m all icky.”

  “We’ve all seen icky before,” said Joshua. “Now come out into the light.”

  “My skin is all green, like an unripe olive.”

  “Olive green!” declared Crustus, who had followed us into Kidron. “I told you it wasn’t chartreuse.”

  “What the hell does he know? He’s dead,” said Abel.

  Finally Joshua lowered his arms and stormed into the tomb. “I can’t believe that you bring a guy back from the dead and he doesn’t even have the courtesy to come out—WHOA! HOLY MOLY!” Joshua came backing out of the tomb, stiff-legged. Very calmly and quietly, he said, “We need clean clothes, and some water to wash with, and bandages, lots of bandages. I can heal him, but we have to sort of get all of his parts stuck back together first.”

  “Hold on, Simon,” Joshua shouted to the tomb, “we’re getting some supplies, then I’ll come in and heal your affliction.”

  “What affliction?” asked Simon.

  Chapter 29

  When it was all finished, Simon looked great, better than I’d ever seen him look. Joshua had not only raised him from the dead, but also healed his leprosy. Maggie and Martha were ecstatic. The new and improved Simon invited us back to his house to celebrate. Unfortunately, Abel and Crustus had witnessed the resurrection and the healing, and despite our admonishments, they started to spread the story through Bethany and Jerusalem.

  Joseph of Arimathea accompanied us to Simon’s house, but he was hardly in a celebratory mood. “This dinner’s not exactly a trap,” he told Joshua, “it’s more like a test.”

  “I’ve been to one of their trials by dinner,” said Joshua. “I thought you were a believer.”

  “I am,” said Joseph, “especially after what I saw today, but that’s why you have to come to my house and have dinner with the Pharisees from the council. Show them who you are. Explain to them in an informal setting what it is that you are doing.”

  “Satan himself once asked me to prove myself,” said Joshua. “What proof do I owe these hypocrites?”

  “Please, Joshua. They may be hypocrites, but they have great influence over the people. Because they condemn you the people are afraid to listen to the Word. I know Pontius Pilate, I don’t think anyone would harm you in my home and risk his wrath.”

  Joshua sat for a moment, sipping his wine. “Then into the den of vipers I shall go.”

  “Don’t do it, Joshua,” I said.

  “And you have to come alone,” said Joseph. “You can’t bring any of the apostles.”

  “That’s not a problem,” I said. “I’m only a disciple.”

  “Especially not him,” said Joseph. “Jakan bar Iban will be there.”

  “So I guess it’s another night sitting home for me, too,” said Maggie.

  Later we all watched and waved as Joseph and Joshua left to go back to Jerusalem for the dinner at Joseph’s house.

  “As soon as they get around the corner you follow them,” Maggie said to me.

  “Of course.”

  “Stay close enough to hear if he needs you.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Come here.” She pulled me inside the door where the others wouldn’t
see and gave me one of those Maggie kisses that made me walk into walls and forget my name for a few minutes. It was the first in months. She released me and held me at arm’s length, then, “You know that if there were no Joshua, I wouldn’t love anyone but you,” she said.

  “You don’t have to bribe me to watch over him, Maggie.”

  “I know. That’s one of the reasons I love you,” she said. “Now go.”

  My years of trying to sneak up on the monks in the monastery paid me back as I shadowed Joshua and Joseph through Jerusalem. They had no idea I was following, as I slipped from shadow to shadow, wall to tree, finally to Joseph’s house, which lay south of the city walls, only a stone’s throw from the palace of the high priest, Caiaphas. Joseph of Arimathea’s house was only slightly smaller than the palace itself, but I was able to find a spot on the roof of an adjacent building where I could watch the dinner through a window and still have a view of the front door.

  Joshua and Joseph sat in the dining room drinking wine by themselves for a while, then gradually the servants let in the other guests as they arrived in groups of twos and threes. There were a dozen of them by the time dinner was served, all of the Pharisees that had been at the dinner at Jakan’s house, plus five more that I had never seen before, but all were severe and meticulous about washing before dinner and checking each other to make sure that all was in order.

  I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I really didn’t care. There seemed to be no immediate threat to Joshua, and that was all I was worried about. He could hold his own on the rhetorical battlefield. Then, when it seemed that it would end without incident, I saw the tall hat and white robe of a priest in the street, and with him two Temple guards carrying their long, bronze-tipped spears. I dropped down off the roof and made my way around the opposite side of the house, arriving just in time to see a servant lead the priest inside.

  As soon as Joshua came through the door at Simon’s house Martha and Maggie showered him with kisses as if he had returned from the war, then led him to the table and started interrogating him about the dinner.

  “First they yelled at me for having fun, drinking wine, and feasting. Saying that if I was truly a prophet I would fast.”

  “And what did you tell them?” I asked, still a little winded from the running to get to Simon’s house ahead of Joshua.

  “I said, well, John didn’t eat anything but bugs, and he never drank wine in his life, and he certainly never had any fun, and they didn’t believe him, so what kind of standards were they trying to set, and please pass the tabbouleh.”

  “What did they say then?”

  “Then they yelled at me for eating with tax collectors and harlots.”

  “Hey,” said Matthew.

  “Hey,” said Martha.

  “They didn’t mean you, Martha, they meant Maggie.”

  “Hey,” said Maggie.

  “I told them that tax collectors and harlots would see the kingdom of God before they did. Then they yelled at me for healing on the Sabbath, not washing my hands before I eat, being in league with the Devil again, and blaspheming by claiming to be the Son of God.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we had dessert. It was some sort of cake made with dates and honey. I liked it. Then a guy came to the door wearing priest’s robes.”

  “Uh-oh,” said Matthew.

  “Yeah, that was bad,” said Joshua. “He went around whispering in the ears of all the Pharisees, then Jakan asked me by what authority I raised Simon from the dead.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything, not with the Sadducee there. But Joseph told them that Simon hadn’t been dead. He was just sleeping.”

  “So what did they say to that?”

  “Then they asked me by what authority I woke him up.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I got angry then. I said by all the authority of God and the Holy Ghost, by the authority of Moses and Elijah, by the authority of David and Solomon, by the authority of thunder and lightning, by the authority of the sea and the air and the fire in the earth, I told them.”

  “And what did they say?”

  “They said that Simon must have been a very sound sleeper.”

  “Sarcasm is wasted on those guys,” I said.

  “Completely wasted,” said Joshua. “Anyway, then I left, and outside there were two guards from the Temple. The shafts of their spears had been broken and they were both unconscious. There was blood on one’s scalp. So I healed them, and when I saw they were coming around, I came here.”

  “They don’t think you attacked the guards?” Simon asked.

  “No, the priest followed me down. He saw them at the same time that I did.”

  “And your healing them didn’t convince him?”

  “Hardly.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “I think we should go back to Galilee. Joseph will send word if anything comes of the meeting of the council.”

  “You know what will come of it,” Maggie said. “You threaten them. And now they have the priests involved. You know what will happen.”

  “Yes, I do,” said Joshua. “But you don’t. We’ll leave for Capernaum in the morning.”

  Later Maggie came to me in the great room of Simon’s house, where we were all bedded down for the night. She crawled under my blanket and put her lips right next to my ear. As usual, she smelled of lemons and cinnamon. “What did you do to those guards?” she whispered.

  “I surprised them. I thought they might be there to arrest Joshua.”

  “You might have gotten him arrested.”

  “Look, have you done this before? Because if you have some sort of plan, please let me in on it. Personally, I’m making this up as I go along.”

  “You did good,” she whispered. She kissed my ear. “Thank you.”

  I reached for her and she shimmied away.

  “And I’m still not going to sleep with you,” she said.

  The messenger must have ridden through several nights to get ahead of us, but when we got back to Capernaum there was already a message waiting from Joseph of Arimathea.

  Joshua:

  Pharisee council condemned you to death for blasphemy. Herod concurs. No official death warrant issued, but suggest you take disciples into Herod Philip’s territory until things settle down. No word from the priests yet, which is good. Enjoyed having you at dinner, please drop by next time you’re in town.

  Your friend,

  Joseph of Arimathea

  Joshua read the message aloud to all of us, then pointed to a deserted mountaintop on the northern shore of the lake near Bethsaida. “Before we leave Galilee again, I am going up that mountain. I will stay there until all in Galilee who wish to hear the good news have come. Only then will I leave to go to Philip’s territory. Go out now and find the faithful. Tell them where to find me.”

  “Joshua,” Peter said, “there are already two or three hundred sick and lame waiting at the synagogue for you to heal them. They’ve been gathering for all the days you’ve been gone.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Well, Bartholomew greeted them and took their names, then we told them that you’d be with them as soon as you got the chance. They’re fine.”

  “I lead the dogs back and forth by them occasionally so we look busy,” said Bart.

  Joshua stormed off to the synagogue waving his hands in the air as if asking God why he had been plagued by a gang of dimwits, but then, I might have been reading that into his gesture. The rest of us spread out into Galilee to announce that Joshua was going to be preaching a great sermon on a mountain north of Capernaum. Maggie and I traveled together, along with Simon the Canaanite and Maggie’s friends Johanna and Susanna. We decided to take three days and walk a circle through northern Galilee that would take us through a dozen towns and bring us back to the mountain just in time to help direct the pilgrims that would be gathering. The first night we
camped in a sheltered valley outside a town called Jamnith. We ate bread and cheese by the fire and afterward Simon and I shared wine while the women went off to sleep. It was the first time I’d ever had a chance to talk to the Zealot without his friend Judas around.

  “I hope Joshua can bring the kingdom down on their heads now,” Simon said. “Otherwise I may have to look for another prophet to pledge my sword to.”

  I nearly choked on my wine, and handed him the wineskin as I fought for breath.

  “Simon,” I said, “do you believe he’s the Son of God?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t, and you’re still following him?”

  “I am not saying he’s not a great prophet, but the Christ? the Son of God? I don’t know.”

  “You’ve traveled with him. Heard him speak. Seen his power over demons, over people. You’ve seen him heal people. Feed people. And what does he ask?”

  “Nothing. A place to sleep. Some food. Some wine.”

  “And if you could do those things, what would you have?”

  Here Simon leaned back and looked into the stars, as he let his imagination unroll. “I would have villages full of women in my bed. I’d have a fine palace, and slaves to bathe me. I would have the finest food and wine and kings would travel from far away just to look at my gold. I would be glorious.”

  “But Joshua has only his cloak and his sandals.”

  Simon seemed to snap out of his reverie, and he wasn’t happy about it. “Just because I am weak does not make him the Christ.”

  “That’s exactly what makes him the Christ.”

  “Maybe he’s just naive.”

  “Count on it,” I said. I stood and handed him the wineskin. “You can finish it. I’m going to sleep.”

  Simon raised his eyebrows. “The Magdalene, she’s a luscious woman. A man could lose himself there.”

  I took a deep breath and thought about defending Maggie’s honor, or even warning Simon about making advances on her, but then I thought better of it. The Zealot needed to learn a lesson that I wasn’t qualified to teach. But Maggie was.