Woman in Red: Magdalene Speaks

by Krishna Rose

  The Romans had created a passport system for the cataloging of prestigious officials who had the privilege of staying in palaces and government houses along the way. My uncle had one such passport. Hence, we travelled as his companions and servants, without issue.

  The camel and horse-based postal systems transported letters to and from distant lands, allowing us to send mail to our friends and family. It would be careless at this point to send letters to Brother James or Cleophas who were still in Jerusalem. No doubt their mail was keenly spied upon.

  Even though I was blessed with many new friends, I yearned for my sister, and I looked to the day when we could be together. Her company was a most valuable commodity. I would never make the decision to leave her side again. That much I vowed to myself.

  We ate a simple daily diet of bread and olive oil, supplemented by whatever local fruits and vegetables could be found in the market towns through which we travelled. We milked goats, sheep, and cows, and at night we drank of their warm milk, delicately spiced with sweet aromatic herbs and sweet honey when available. Occasionally exotic fruits found their way to our table, for which we were always thankful.

  Jesu, having journeyed extensively in his youth, had already been exposed to a diversity of foreigners from around the world. He spoke and read Aramaic, Coptic, Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and Sanskrit. For those of us who had the good fortune of being raised within wealthy houses, foreign language was not unfamiliar. Even so, Matrial loved to translate for those within our group who were not so fortunate to have had such an education.

  Whether or not Jesu’s intentions were to challenge the political structures of the world or not—his way of life, and his sway with the masses, most definitely threatened the foundations of society in a way which none of us had fully understood. People fear change, as with it comes insecurity and discomfort. Avoiding change by all means, humanity spends time amply distracted, troubled by even the thought of stillness or solitude. Remove the objects of human beguilement and people find themselves uneasy, for they know not what to do.

  Humanity is intimidated by the unknown, fearing what is behind their own eyes. This leaves the masses open to all manner of bewilderments. While the outer world busies us, avoidance becomes the norm, while the unknown infallible landscape within, waits, with hope for a chance to recapture our attention. Meanwhile, it is the spirit within, which is the quintessential curative for all our ails—and all human woes.

  What people fear most is death. And though death waits eagerly behind every corner for our time, even so, people are loathe to take unto themselves the journey inward, to explore the passage, and conquer over it. The inner landscape of the self is rarely travelled upon. Indeed, it is a rare soul who seeks for the unseen treasures within.

  It had become my mission to explore those unchartered realms, for the sake of my own soul, driven by a natural need in me to assist others. Without wasting a moment on fleeting pleasures, which seemingly offer one no consolation or answers, I would lean upon the cane of my faith. No one can resist love’s draw and power, yet misplaced, it may with shackles bind us. So, for the sanctity of charity, I would burrow into the spirit to end the tears of the people.

  The Roman soldier, Saul, was searching high and low for word of our whereabouts. We were, all of us, careful and very protective of Jesu, ready to guard him with our lives if need be, to keep him safe. Though we healed the sick, spoke in small gatherings, and baptized the faithful, we always ensured that Jesu remained hidden when Roman guards were seen, for we trusted them not. Even so, we found ways to be with the people who needed us.

  Once we reached Damascus, a Roman soldier on route approached Matrial, asking if he had seen or heard of a man named Jeshua. He described that the one he was searching for, would be wounded in his hands and feet, for he had fled crucifixion. Sensing this man was out to do us harm, Jesu climbed down slowly from the cart to confront the soldier.

  “Saul, why do you seek a man of peace with a sword?” he asked.

  “He is a rebel,” Saul replied, confused by how this man knew of his name.

  I stood frozen in horror. My uncle rushed to Jesu’s side, protective like a father, while Matrial and Saturnius, came up behind the soldier, weapons in hand, in case he attempted to harm Jesu—who stood before him like a lamb to slaughter. It would not be long before this soldier would notice his bandages.

  “I am looking for this man to bring him to justice,” Saul announced. “And I am offering a handsome payment in exchange for information of his whereabouts,” he said, glancing down at Jesu’s heavily bandaged feet and hands.

  “Tell me Saul, how much is this man worth to you?” Jesu asked.

  “His body, dead or alive, will buy you and your family wealth and position, almost as much as a king,” he replied, nervously shifting his feet in the sand.

  “If I buy a palace of gold and give you the rebel you are seeking, I will lose my soul. So what use is a palace if I am dead?” Jesu asked provocatively.

  Too unintelligent to understand Jesu’s daring response, the soldier flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles ceremoniously, asking, “Why? Do you have knowledge of his whereabouts?”

  “I have heard of this man you speak of, and people say that he heals the sick and offers blessings to the poor and needy. So what is it that he rebels against, Saul? What is his sin?”

  “The imposter escaped Roman execution after being tried and found guilty of breaking the law. He was a disturbance to the people, claiming himself to be the son of God, so he was crucified—but then fled!” Saul exclaimed, taking note more attentively of Jesu’s wounded hands and feet.

  “What did you say your name is?” Saul asked suddenly.

  We gasped into our shawls fearfully.

  “If a man says he is the son of God, where is his sin? Are we not all sons and daughters of the Creator?”

  With a look of humiliation upon his face, Saul removed his helmet, which bothered him in the heat of the midday sun. Scratching his head, he seemed unsure of how to reply to such a question. Again, as he looked down, Saul noticed Jesu’s feet and hands and wondered to himself.

  “I do not know of such things. We are all God’s children, yes, but this man claims himself to be the Messiah. He misleads people! Rome and Judea found him guilty—therefore he must be brought to justice,” Saul said shifting uncomfortably. Aware and watchful of the men standing close behind him.

  “Saul, you say that he was crucified. Then tell me—how is it possible that a man could escape death?”

  “We do not know how he escaped. He was dead and then his body disappeared overnight—along with his family,” he said looking at all of us. “We think he may travel this way, and mark my word, I will search him out and bring him to heel!” he said with a sudden air of condescension in his voice. Returning the helmet to his sweaty head, Saul clutched the helm of his sword in a brutish manner, spreading his legs defensively.

  “You say he claims to be the Messiah. Then why would you wish to kill a man who thinks himself to be the savior of your people? You are Jewish are you not?” Jesu asked in a disarmingly tender voice.

  “Yes, I am of the Jewish faith. I didn’t say he was the Messiah. I said that he calls himself the Messiah!” Saul said argumentatively.

  “Tell me, Saul, do your scriptures not say that the Messiah would be born during this time? And do the prophecies not say that he would speak of the Kingdom, heal the sick, give to the poor, and be crucified by his own people, only to rise on the third day?”

  “Yes. But this man is a pretender! He was found guilty by our courts!” he said with a disapproving tone to his voice.

  I moved beside Jesu, laying my hand upon his shoulder tenderly, in hope of turning him from this confron
tation safely, but he shrugged me off, refocusing on the task at hand.

  “Saul, why do you persecute me?” Jesu said stepping towards the soldier, stopping just inches from the tip of his sword. Saul’s spine stiffened. His face came alive in recognition and anger.

  “No, Jesu!” I said, grabbing at his arm to pull him away. “Please!” I pleaded with him.

  “Enough, Mary. Be at peace!” he said, irritated, shaking his arm from me.

  “You are he who I have searched for?” Saul asked, a quizzical brow raised above his left eye.

  “Yes, I am the one you seek. Lay down your sword and I shall give you what you have come for,” Jesu said, dropping his walking stick to the ground, holding out his arms to embrace him.

  Saul took the sword out slowly from its scabbard and for a moment I thought he might lunge at Jesu. But unexpectedly, he dropped it to the ground and stepped towards him, drawn magnetically as if in a trance. Jesu reached out and took Saul’s hand in his. Saul gazed upon his enemy, and after some time, tears fell from his eyes. He stood transfixed. He had found the long-awaited object of his hatred, yet now he was confounded. Feeling Jesu’s wounded hand, which held him, he jumped back as if he had seen a ghost.

  Crowds had gathered around us and our gypsy friends now stood beside me, ready to wage war if necessary. “Do we have a problem here?” Uncle Joseph asked, interrupting the awkward silence. The soldier broke from his hypnotic state to look at my uncle, unable to speak. “Saul, I am Joseph of Arimathea, and if you have counsel with my nephew, then you have counsel with me,” he said threateningly.

  “Saul,” Jesu said, reaching for him again, “tell me why you wish to kill me. Are you a Roman soldier before you are a man? Have you no care for the afterlife—or are the coins of Rome the chains which have bound you? Have you heard the commandment ‘thou shalt not kill?’”

  Saul nodded, unsure of his next move. His cheeks burned red with embarrassment. But Jesu smiled at him reassuringly, as if reading his thoughts.

  “Then answer me this. Since when does taking a life befit any man?” he asked, keeping his voice calm and cherubic.

  “Well, I . . . uh . . . uh . . . I don’t know. If someone breaks the law, then the State has the right to take that person’s life, for they have sinned,” he replied, unsure of himself. “I am a Jew, but I am also a soldier of Rome,” he stuttered. “And . . . I don’t know what I am . . . I am confused . . . so confused . . . it’s as if a ghost has entered me,” he stammered. “I have hated you for so long, yet now that I am before you—I feel nothing. Something has changed in me. Suddenly I don’t know what I believe! I do not know what to do . . . nor even what to say.”

  Then Saul shocked us. He fell to his knees declaring, “Shama, Israel, Adonai Elohim. Tell me what to do!”

  After some time, he returned to his feet seemingly disturbed. “I am blind!” he screamed. “I can’t see! What have you done to me?”

  “Saul,” Jesu said softly, “you will be blind for but three days. Do not fear, for I shall now reveal to you the underworlds, so that you might be changed and baptized of the spirit. Eat and drink nothing until your sight is restored. In three days hence I shall send someone to you, who will return to you your eyes. Do no more harm, but carry my name unto the people. And before them—declare that I am risen. Then take unto yourself a flock, to whom you will preach of the things which shall be revealed to you these next three days,” Jesu instructed.

  “Why have you blinded me? People say you heal the blind, so why have you done this to me?” he cried out in alarm.

  “Because you have been blind, Saul! And when you are healed, you shall be restored in faith, in spirit, and in sight.” Jesu held firm Saul’s hands, whispering something into his ear, which none but Saul could hear. Afterwards, Saul wept, pounding the ground beneath him with his fists.

  My uncle ushered us through the crowds, to our caravans. This had potentially been a disaster. My hands were shaking uncontrollably.

  Jesu caught me up in his arms, kissing me hard on the lips. “Marjan, have faith my love. You and I are of one mind and one purpose. No man can separate us, not even in death,” he said with bated breath. “Do not fear me, for I am he who the world has long waited for. The time has come for my fulfilment. I cannot crawl. We must both walk bravely forward,” he said imploringly, his voice laden with excitement.

  “All is as it should be. Saul has been baptized of the spirit. He is reborn. He shall spread our teachings far and wide, and it is God’s will that it be so. I have accepted him as my own and given him the name Paul,” he said, full of emotion. “He will be of no harm to us now, Mariam.”

  The Taklamakan Desert was known as the most hostile environment in the world. It would be a difficult passage for us, since there was little vegetation or water. It lacked rainfall almost entirely. The sandstorms came often, and were especially notorious for claiming the lives of those ill-prepared for such conditions. The oasis towns, which made the journey possible, had become important trading centers where caravans would exchange animals and goods.

  Towards the North, the view was inexpressibly beautiful. The awe-inspiring sandy dunes of the Taklamakan Desert were renowned for swallowing caravans like giant waves, engulfing them in the dunes, never to be seen again. Like bloodthirsty marauders, the sands lay in wait, for the right moment to take lives—as payment for passage.

  We travelled in groups of twenty-four camels, who, roped together head to tail, led us through the ill-boding terrain. The camels’ lithe necks, were clad with decorative bells about them, which rang out as a constant reminder to remain watchful.

  The merchants were used to travelling the desert and had great respect for this “land of death.” Though most of them had little good to say about it. It covered a vast area through which few roads passed. Thus, the caravans skirted its edges, from one isolated oasis to the next. The most difficult daily task seemed to be that of readying the camels. For they would grunt and snarl, making all manner of protests as the burdensome, oversized bundles, were once again packed onto their backs, for another long-haul across the desert. This was for us, a daily source of entertainment and amusement.

  When the weather turned, we camped at night with the fires crackling at our feet, traveling during daylight when the sun warmed our skin. At night the temperatures would drop to well below freezing. Stews and soups were cooked over the fire using whatever ingredients we could find, and leftovers were eaten for breakfast, with dates and bread for snacks, while the caravans moved in tandem.

  The regions to the south of the Kush and Karakoram mountain ranges, were overrun with foreigners not native to those lands—Jesu was excited, for he believed them to be our lost tribes. These regions had once been ruled by Alexander the Great of Macedonia, who had conquered the Iranian Empire and colonized the area three-hundred-years before, superimposing the culture of the Greeks upon the people.

  Greek was the primary language spoken, so it was fortunate that most of us were fluent in it. Belief in Greek gods and the aesthetics of Greek influence, here merged with those of China and the realm of Bharata. It was a diverse smorgasbord of faith and tradition.

  After the Greeks, the tribal people from Parthia, to the East of the Mediterranean sea, had taken over the territory. Being less sophisticated than the Greeks, the new locals had introduced their own brand of cultural influence. As a consequence, change had inevitably left its mark. Religion, fashion, music, and architecture, were all up for revision and modernization—in the name of refinement and progress.

  Especially revolutionary were the first depictions of Siddhartha Gautama Buddha, an incarnation of God, who came to earth teaching non-violence. The Buddha had requested no idol be made in his name, yet artists, under Greek influence, had created a deity form
of the Buddha. This was considered radical, if not heretical, to Orthodox Buddhists. The new-wave cultural influence on Buddhism was substantial.

  Siddhartha Gautama Buddha, was soon depicted wearing flowing robes, rather than the traditional loincloth, as well as having more chiseled muscular features, like Greek gods. Some traditional influences from the realm of Bharata remained, such as the Lord’s heavy, slightly open eyelids and elongated earlobes, which were stretched long as a symbol of his former life as Prince Siddhartha. He had worn heavy gem-laden gold earrings, befitting a Prince, only to later give them up. This detail was an important reminder to all—of the importance of renouncing material pleasures to make way for the treasures of the spirit.

  Buddhism had fast become a popular faith. Due to the wonders that the Gypsy Trail offered, there was unlimited scope for spreading religion, which was first and foremost upon everyone’s lips.

  Close on the heels of the Parthians, came the Yuezhi people from the Northern borders of the Taklamakan Desert. They too had been driven out from their homelands by the Xiongnu tribes, to settle in the Northern mountain ranges of the Himalaya. The Yuezhi descendants were known as the Kushan people, and they too brought with them their own brand of religion. Like other tribes, they had adopted much of the Greek system which existed before them. This marriage of cultures produced a shattering of ancestral time-honored beliefs and a new variegated faith, language, and culture, emerged. Fascinated, we listened to the stories of the people and learned of their history.

  The gypsies wove the problems and mysteries of times gone by, into colorful sonnets which seemed to remedy all the woes of the world. We found their ways remarkable. Dance and music were a cathartic relief and means of deliverance for them. Sarah-Tamar spent most nights with their women, gathered about their deity, the black goddess Kali. Rapturous chants could be heard long into the night, until a great euphoria came upon them. Sarah found it exhilarating, and though I yearned to venture out with her into their tents, Jesus Justus still suckled at my breast, leaving me bound to motherhood in a most exhausting, yet satisfying way.