by Krishna Rose
“Yes, we are all healers and masters of the ancient arts,” my uncle said protectively. “My brethren and I have come a long distance, fleeing persecution in Judea,” he said affably.
“Good,” Simeon said welcomingly. “You are Nazarites?” he queried, noticing that our men had long hair and donned the signature one-hundred-and-eight prayer beads around their necks.
“Yes, Brother. In peace we take shelter of your alliance,” Uncle Joseph said humbly, reaching for Simeon’s hand in friendliness.
With this, the men embraced and we were invited to sup and pray with them. Simeon especially, was keen for news of Jerusalem. Pleased by our good will, he offered us assistance, should we have needs thereof. Thus we were invited to participate in their weekly gatherings for Shabbat, as their community neighbored ours. We were relieved that he and his brethren seemed so agreeable.
The villagers were alight with curious excitement at meeting the newcomers with long hair and strange accents. Though they were people of the ancient lost tribes, after seven-hundred years, their language was but a semblance of ours. We spoke slowly, but in our mother tongue, and they understood through facial expressions and hand movements what we meant. It wasn’t long before our words became meaningful to them, and understanding was shown in our exchanges.
The non-Judaic locals spoke Greek. Therefore, those of us educated in language, were able to converse with them, and quickly we made alliances in the local villages. I felt a warm sense of security for the first time in years. The maternal instinct in me hoped that the children could be raised in a village of women, protected, and emotionally supported by others of like mind.
Our small community lived inside meek dwellings built of wattle, daub, and stone. Each of us owned our own hearth upon a small lot of land large enough to support and nourish a self-sufficient simple lifestyle. Together we worked in communal gardens, growing and harvesting grains, beans, fruits, and vegetables for the table. The land was fertile and wine was abundant, as the grapes here grew plentifully and with ease. Though neither the Nazarites nor the Essenes partook of any wine—it was a considerable source of income for all of the communities. Therefore, wine grapes were grown abundantly, for they brought business to our villages.
The views to the surrounding mountains were exquisite. In winter they had snow upon their icy caps and in summer they were a source of fresh water and grazing for the animals. The pure-tasting springs were bounteous, requiring no heavy buckets for hauling. Since fresh water was so easily accessed throughout the land, the men built long canals to drive it to each of our homes and into the fields, in a wonderful display of natural resource, much like I had seen in Egypt.
The local women soon became regular visitors to our cottages, exchanging cakes and herbal formulas for woven cloth and tools. They were sweet, shy women, who wondered at our strange ways.
Unhesitatingly, my uncle organized a group of men to construct a small temple on the summit of the hill. The pathway was lined with oak and willow, offering us welcome shelter from the heat in summer as we climbed the hill to make offerings unto the Lord.
No one questioned the wounds which affected Jesu’s ability to walk and work as the others did, though gradually he was able to walk slowly and always with a staff. The community presumed he had been healed of leprosy. Therefore, he was not made to work and till the fields with the other men. There was a quiet respect among the people for Jesu. His silence was more powerful than any words. Still, none knew the truth of our past. Therefore, we dodged tricky conversations when Judea or the fabled risen King were spoken of. Invariably, this seemed to happen more often than not, as Jesu’s famed resurrection seemed to be the most hypothesized scandal foremost on everyone’s minds and lips—even this far from Jerusalem.
We exchanged fresh linen cloth for Jesu’s bandages, bartering Martha’s bread and cakes, which had fast become the most desired food in the village. My sister was an accomplished baker. The aroma emerging from her kitchen always enticed the women and children to return for more, for her flavorful recipes were mouthwateringly delicious. We lived beside one another in undisturbed peace, without quarrel, committing our souls entirely unto the Lord.
There on Redhae Hill, it came to pass, that we buried the head of my first husband, John—known as the Baptist. Jesu’s brothers, had shaped a beautiful silver casket for their cousin’s embalmed remains. We lay him to rest on a hillside beside the shaded path by way of the temple mount on Redhae Hill. The Mary, Sarah-Tamar, and I, picked a great number of flowers and placed them on his grave solemnly. Mary-Salome could not bring herself to come.
In great ceremony and adoration, Jesu laid rest to his holy master, his cousin and friend, while I lay to rest that most enigmatic character, who was the father of our daughter, Sarah-Tamar. It was a tragedy which Mary-Salome would pay for, in the future, with her own life.
Jesu could oft be seen beneath trees and behind rocks, immersed in prayer, for many hours a day, sitting cross-legged with spine erect, eyes closed. His mournful cries were at times heard echoing through the valley. Everyone seemed to entirely accept that this daily occurrence in some way indirectly benefitted them. People would on occasion bring simple offerings of water and fruit to him. While some came with blankets for him to sit upon when it was cold. One man, who had been recently baptized, came up from the Essene village with a carved walking rod, which was presented to him as a gift before the whole community. The man wished for one thing in reciprocation—to hear Jesu speak.
“We all here hope for eternal life and for the word of God to descend upon us in the form of our savior. But the Messiah has been expected and prayed for since our ancestors settled here seven-hundred years ago,” said the short stocky man, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “He was expected then, as he is expected now, and he will be expected in the future, unless he makes himself known to us. Until such time, we seek salvation within our own souls, for that is where worship holds its true value.” Everyone nodded and grunted in agreement. The man reminded me of the fabled gnomes our father had spoken of when we were children. And Martha, Lazarus, and I, gave one another knowing looks, with playful smirks on our faces.
“Perhaps the Messiah has already arrived,” Brother John suddenly retorted seriously. His words sobered me instantly. “Perhaps he is here among us and you know him not,” he said, glancing in Jesu’s direction.
Jesu raised an eyebrow in his brother’s direction, his face flushing with a warm glow of recognition. Moving to sit before him, everyone gathered together to hear from this quiet saintly man, who spent his days immersed in prayer and inward study. Jesu entrusted me with a wink from across the way, with a glint in his eye and something brewing deep in his soul.
“Come sit by me, brethren,” he said. “Listen and remember what I say—for these teachings will sustain you,” he began, while the group settled in around him, eager to learn.
“Since the beginning of creation, from Adam to John, no one man born of a woman is above John the Baptist, such that he should not lower his eyes before him,” he said breaking the silence, giving honor to John, who we had buried earlier that day. “But whoever among you, comes to be innocent as a child, they shall know the Kingdom and be greater than John.
“I was chosen, and thus did I see many wonders of the spirit, that the miracle of them took from me my speech. In this mortal life, I know not if I can ever comprehend the things I have seen. But, I made covenants with the Lord and am thereupon urged to relieve you of your burdens,” he said at liberty.
“Inside of you lives a great torment which devours you day and night, filling you with sorrow. Starved and forgetful of thine own self, you know not of this truth and are therefore not attracted by its blessing. Your soul however, deems it necessary to attend to the Lord and incline it to His assurance, that He shall sati
ate thee to the fullness of thy wanting. The promises of the Kingdom have incited my spirit and set my will aflame—therefore I shall sanctify your conscience and make you agreeable in the eyes of the Lord, that you will be saved. So listen attentively . . . for I bring you nourishment,” he said leaning towards them, as if to tell them a very great secret. “I shall now give what you have thirsted for.
“The seeker should not stop until he finds. And when he does find, he will be disturbed. Yet after having been disturbed, he will be astonished, and then he will reign over everything. If your friends say, ‘Look, the Kingdom is in the sky,’ then the birds shall be there before you. If they say that the Kingdom is in the sea, then the fish shall arrive there first. Rather I tell you this—the Kingdom is both within you and outside of you. When you understand your own self, you shall be understood. Yet if you do not know yourself, then you exist in poverty and shall soon become that poverty.
“Man is like the thoughtful fisherman, who throws his net into the sea and pulls it out full of little fish. Among all the little fish, the thoughtful fisherman found one large fine fish, which he thought would be beneficial to him. And throwing all the little fish back into the sea, he chose to keep the large one.”
“What do you mean by the big fish and the little fish?” a young lad asked, seemingly hopeful of getting a straight answer out of Jesu.
“The little fish are your distractions, my son. Life’s ultimate treasure is not to be found within the little pleasures of life. The big fish is like the Kingdom—though once it was out of sight—it was caught, for the thoughtful man sought it out. The Kingdom never fails to be displayed if you seek it. Nothing that was hidden before, will remain undiscovered to he who searches,” Jesu answered, patting the young lad on his head.
“But why should we search for a Kingdom which is hidden from view, when we live in paradise here on earth—which too is given us by our creator?” another questioned.
“Each living creature is assured to leave this world empty. Death cannot be outwitted, nor paid for, nor avoided by any means. The Kingdom is everlasting and those who seek it, find what they were looking for—everlasting life. You have falsely believed yourselves to be in paradise. I have seen Paradise, and as this world mournfully tears husband from wife, and child from mother, Paradise doth entirely banish death, which comes not to those who have found it. Perhaps you think that I have come to throw peace on the world. You do not know that I have come to throw disagreement upon the world, and fire, and sword, and struggle.”
Murmurs could be heard like a rustle, through the crowd.
“But why, Master? Why would you wish for us to disagree and struggle?” the young lad asked, trying to understand.
“They who drink from my mouth, shall become like me and all hidden things will be revealed to them. I have thrown a fire on the world and whoever is near to me will know fire and all that is false shall be burned from them forever. Whoever is far from me, is far from the Kingdom.”
“Why do you speak in riddles such that we cannot understand?” the boy implied earnestly.
“Have faith and listen with your heart that I may enter it. And one day you shall understand the treasures I have planted for you there.”
Standing up before them, he leaned on his new rod with one hand, while with the other, he lay his bandaged hand upon the head of the young lad and blessed him. Many others at that point shuffled forward to also receive his blessings, moved in their hearts to pray.
“You shall flourish and be made to understand, my Brother,” he said factually, and the boy fell at Jesu’s feet, weeping, moved by the Master’s blessing.
“Fortify yourselves against the ugliness of sin and celebrate in your triumph over weakness. Beware the troubles and dangers of this world, and bear the sweet yoke of virtue upon thy brow. Yielding thy spirit and offering holy obeisance unto the Lord, go forth and multiply prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance, by the intensity of your meritorious acts. By this, shall the Lord shelter you from the storm which once raged inside of you. Upon thy recompense, set not the Lord and His generous mercy aside. Neglect Him not, for in Him we reap eternal refreshment and comfort, and by Him we are pardoned. Be not blind to the light of reason. Choose goodness, fortified by incorruptibility, infused with virtues of faith, charity and mercy.”
There was a hush in the audience, as some came forward prostrating themselves unto the messenger of Heaven who had come before them. Jesu blessed them, telling them, “Continue with your prayers and supplications, that your souls should converse with the Lord from whom you came forth. Be renewed in spirit . . .” he said, comforting and enlivening them.
“Master, what should we eat and what should we not eat?” a woman proffered, starchily.
“Listen and I shall confer upon thee, holy understanding. What goes into your mouth will not defile you, but what comes out—will,” and the villagers laughed aloud at his reply, for she was the village critic.
“But know this,” he said, turning again to face the crowds, “in all seriousness—cursed are those who ingest the flesh of any beast which has been slain. ‘Thou shalt not kill’ is the Lord’s commandment, therefore, love all living things as thine own soul, and protect them as you would the pupil of your own eye,” he said, throwing light on her question.
“Master, if someone sins against us, how can we forgive them?” Caractacus asked bluntly in his heavily Brittonic accent. The crowds turned to see who asked this poignant question, which all felt, yet dared not ask.
“You see the sin in your Brother’s eye, but do not see the sin in your own. Remove sin first from your own image, for only then can you see clearly to remove it from another. Harken . . . if you do not fast from the world, then the Kingdom shall be far from you.
“As I stood in the midst of the world, I found that my people were drunk. And though they have delighted in this world, still I see that they thirst. My soul is indeed saddened by the sons of men, for they are like the blind who do not see that they have come into the world empty and so too shall they leave the world empty. Now they are drunk, yet when they sober up, they will repent,” he said, as indistinct mutterings swept through the crowd again. ‘Who is this man that speaks with such authority?’ they whispered.
“People are perceptive about everyone but themselves,” Jesu warned intrepidly. “Therefore, call out to the Lord, ‘Hinder my prideful sin by Your mercy and relieve me of prideful boasting which hastens away my peace. Let all things be fulfilled by Your will, not mine. For You are mighty and I am but dust and ashes. Permit my prayers to reach Your ears and thereby make me worthy of Your benediction which consoles me by Your presence.’
“Then pray for others, ‘I pray that all who seek You Lord, may find a remedy in You, that they too might receive the fruit of Your blessing.’”
“If you are who they say you are, then why did your people crucify you?” called out a tall man, who stood toward the back of the crowds with his head covered so that his face was hidden from us. A shock wave surged through the attentive listeners and a long silence ensued. There would be no coming back from this. Now the audience shifted forward in their seats to catch sight of the bulging linens on the teacher’s hands and feet. ‘Could it be true?’ they wondered. Might it be possible that the risen King stood here before them?
“A prophet is never accepted in his own village,” Jesu continued, unfazed by the question. “The Pharisees and scribes have taken the keys of knowledge and hidden them. Locking the door, they do not go in, nor do they permit others to go in. I opened the doors and declared, ‘Behold, the Kingdom is at hand’ to one and all, and they said that I had no authority, for I did not hold the keys. Yet the keys were never with them.
“Blessed are those who are persecuted and hated by the world, but more
blessed are those who have been persecuted within themselves, for they shall come to know the creator. Blessed are those who are hungry, for they shall be filled and go forth to appease the emptiness of those who, for want of nourishment, hunger.”
A woman and her two children came into the midst of the assembly, carrying with them baskets of loaves and jugs of wine. Jesu thanked her, telling her, “You should seek for long-lasting treasures which do not decay, where the moths do not come to eat and time cannot destroy. Now sit with your children and hear that which you have thirsted for,” he said motioning for them to come before him, asking the men to shuffle back to make space.
“Once, there was a rich man who thought to himself, ‘I shall invest my money so that I can sow, reap, plant, and fill up my cupboards with crops, such that I shall never lack for anything.’ Or so, he thought—for that night he died. Those who have ears, let them hear,” he said, looking out over the fascinated crowd. “Woe unto those, who like a dog dozing in the food trough, neither eats, nor allows the cattle to eat.”
A man, who seemed forlorn and confused, asked “Master, are we not meant to be happy whilst we live on earth, as the Lord decreed? The things you speak, lead me to believe that it is not right to seek happiness in this life—only in the next.”
“Come and sit by me, and I shall make things straight, so that you can understand,” Jesu replied, and the man came quickly to sit beside him.
“It is not wrong to be happy, nor is it right,” Jesu said, amiably draping his right arm over the man’s shoulders. “If you are happy, you are happy—but you should know that sorrow follows close behind. The happiness of this world is fleeting, whereas the treasures of the Kingdom award us with eternal fortune.”
“Master,” he asked, “can you tell us what God looks like?”
“The Lord is like the light hidden in the image of the light. He shall be revealed to those who seek Him. But to those who seek the treasures of this world, His image remains hidden within the light. Do you not wash the inside of the cup as well as the outside? And do you not know that the one who made the cup, made the inside as well as the outside? If you knock, the door will open. Therefore, be brave, and seek, for ye shall find.”
