by George Moore
One day as Jesus was passing on his rounds a man ran out of his house and besought him to help him to stop some boys who were playing drums and fifes and psalteries, saying to him: I know not who thou art, but my wife’s mother is dying of fever, and the boys jeer at me and show no mercy. Let us take stones and cast them at them. But Jesus answered: no stone is required; and turning to the boys he said: boys, all this woman asks of you is to be allowed to die in quiet, and you may ask the same thing some day, and that day may not be long delayed. Whereupon the boys were ashamed, and Jesus followed Peter into his house and took his wife’s mother’s hand and lifted her up a little and placed her head upon the pillow and bade her sleep, which she did, and seeing that he had such power Peter asked him to remain in the house till his mother-in-law opened her eyes, which he did, and he has been there ever since. Now here we are at the pathway through which Jesus comes and goes every day on his mission of healing and preaching the love of God. Your father, Sir, is much opposed to Jesus, who he says has persuaded Peter away from his fishing and James and John and many others, but no doubt your father told you these things last night.
CHAP. XIII.
YONDER IS CAPERNAUM — or it would have been more in our speech had I said, why, brother, yonder is Capernaum. But habit’s like a fly, brother, it won’t leave us alone, it comes back however often and angrily we may drive it away.
Joseph made no reply, hoping by silence to quiet Philip’s tongue which returned to the attack, he was fain to admit, not altogether unlike a fly. He tried not to hear him, for the sight of the town at the head of the lake awakened recollections of himself and his nurse walking valiantly, their strength holding out till they reached Capernaum, but after eating at the inn they were too weary to return to Magdala on foot and Peter had had to take them back in his boat. Peter’s boat was his adventure in those days, and strangely distinct the day rose up in his mind that he and Peter had gone forth firm in the resolution that they would ascend the Jordan as far as the waters of Merom. They succeeded in dragging the boat over the shallows, but there was much wind on the distant lake. Peter thought it would not be well to venture out upon it, and Andrew thought so too. He was now going to see those two brothers again after a long absence and was not certain whether he was glad or sorry. It seemed to him that the lake, its towns and villages, were too inseparably part of himself for him to wish to see them with the physical eyes, and that it would be wiser to keep this part of Galilee, the upper reaches of the lake at least, for his meditations; yet he did not think he would like to return to Magdala without seeing Capernaum. Perhaps because Jesus was there. That Jesus should have pitched upon Capernaum as a centre revived his interest in it, and there was a certain pathetic interest attached to the memory of a question he once put to his father. He asked him if Capernaum was the greatest city in the world, and for years after he was teased till Capernaum became hateful to him; but Capernaum within the last few minutes regained its place in his affections. And as the town became hallowed in recollection he cried out to Philip that he could not go farther with him. Not go any farther with me, Philip answered: now why is that, brother, for Peter is waiting to see you and will take on mightily when I tell him that you came to the head of the lake with me and turned back. But it is Peter whom I fear to meet, Joseph muttered, and then at the sight of the long lean street slanting down the hillside towards the lake, breaking up into irregular hamlets, some situated at the water’s edge close to the wharf where Peter’s boats lay gently rocking, he repeated: it is Peter that I fear. But unwilling to take Philip into his confidence he turned as if to go back to Magdala without further words, but Philip restrained him, and at last Joseph confessed his grief — that being the son of a rich man he was not eligible to the society of the poor. You will ask me, he said, to give up my money to the poor, a thing I would willingly do for the sake of Jesus, whom I believe to be God’s prophet; but how can I give that which does not belong to me — my father’s money? That was my grief when you found me sitting on the stone by the lake’s edge.
Whereupon Philip stood looking at Joseph as one suspended, for the first time understanding rightly that the rich have their troubles as well as the poor. At last words coming to him he said: money has been our trouble since Jesus drew us together, for we would do without money and yet we know not how this is to be done. Like you, Sir, I’m asking if I’m to sell my sails, those already out and those in the unrolled material, and if I do sell and give the money to the poor how am I to live but by begging of those that have not given their all? But why should I worry you with our troubles? But your troubles are mine, Joseph answered; and Philip went away to fetch Peter, who, he said, would be able to tell him if Jesus could accept a rich man as a disciple. If a man that has a little be permitted to remain, who is to say how much means interdiction? Joseph asked himself as he kept watch for Peter to appear at the corner of the street. And does he know the Master’s mind enough to answer the question of my admission or —— The sentence did not finish in his mind, for Peter was coming up the street at that moment, a great broad face coming into its features and expression. The same high-shouldered fisher as of yore, Joseph said to himself, and he sought to read in Peter’s face the story of Peter’s transference from one master to another. It wasn’t the approach of the Great Day, he said, for Peter never could see beyond his sails and the fins of a fish; and if Jesus were able to lift his thoughts beyond them he had accomplished a no less miracle than turning water into wine.
Well, young Master, he said, we’re glad to have you back among us again. There be no place like home for us Galileans. Isn’t that so? And no fishing like that on these coasts? But, Peter, Joseph interrupted, my father tells me that thou hast laid aside thy nets — but that isn’t what I’m here to talk to thee about, he interjected suddenly, but about Jesus himself, whom I’ve been seeking for nearly two years, very nearly since I parted from you all, well nigh two years ago, isn’t it? I’ve sought him in the hills of Judea, in Moab, in the Arabian desert and all the way to Egypt and back again. It’s about two years since you went away on your travels, Master Joseph, and a great fine story there’ll be for us to listen to when our nets are down, Peter said. I’d ask you to begin it now, Master Joseph, weren’t it that the Master is waiting for us over yonder in my house. And from what Philip tells me you would have my advice about joining our community, Master Joseph. You’ve seen no doubt a good deal of the Temple at Jerusalem and know everything about the goings on there, and are with us in this — that the Lord don’t want no more fat rams and goats and bullocks, and incense is hateful in his nostrils. So I’ve heard. They be Isaiah’s words, aren’t they, young Master? But there’s no master here, only Jesus: he is Master, and if I call you “Master” it is from habit of beforetimes. But no offence intended. You always will be master for me, and I’ll be servant always in a sense, which won’t prevent us from being brothers. The Master yonder will understand and will explain it all to you better than I.... And Peter nodded his great head covered with frizzly hair. But, Peter, I am a rich man, and my father is too, and none but the poor is admitted into the Community of Jesus. That’s what affrights him, Peter — his money, Philip interjected, and I have been trying to make him understand that Jesus won’t ask him for his father’s money, he not having it to give away. I’m not so sure of that, Peter said. The Master told us a story yesterday of a steward who took his master’s money and gave it to the poor, he being frightened lest the poor, whom he hadn’t been over-good to in his lifetime, might not let him into heaven when he died. And the Master seemed to think that he did well, for he said: it is well to bank with the poor. Them were his very words. So it seems to thee, Peter, that I should take my father’s money? Joseph asked. Take your father’s money! Peter answered. We wouldn’t wrong your father out of the price of two perch, and never have done, neither myself nor John and James. Now I won’t say as much for —— We love your father, and never do we forget that when our nets were washed awa
y it was he that gave us new ones. I am sure thou wouldst not wrong my father, Joseph answered, and he refrained from asking Peter to explain the relevancy of the story he had just told lest he should entangle him. It is better, he said to himself, to keep to facts, and he told Peter that even his own money was not altogether his own money, for he had a partner in Jericho and it would be hard to take his money out of the business and give it all to the poor. Giving it to the poor in Galilee, he said, would deprive my camel-drivers of their living. Which, Peter observed, would be a cruel thing to do, for a man must be allowed to get his living, whether he be from Jericho or Galilee, fisher or camel-driver or sail-maker. Which reminds me, Philip, that thou be’st a long time over the sail I was to have had at the end of last month. And the twain began to wrangle so that Joseph thought they would never end, so prolix was Philip in his explanations. He had had to leave the sail unsewn, was all he had to say, but he embroidered on this simple fact so largely that Joseph lost patience and began to tell them he had come to Galilee, Pilate wishing him to add the portage of wheat from Moab to the trade already started in figs and dates. So Pilate is in the business, Peter ejaculated, for Peter did not think that a Jew should have any dealings with Gentiles, and this opinion, abruptly expressed, threw the discourse again into disarray. But Pilate is in Jerusalem, Joseph began. And has he brought the Roman eagles with him? Peter interrupted. And seeing that these eagles would lead them far from the point which he was anxious to have settled — whether the trade he was doing between Jerusalem and Jericho prevented him from being a disciple — Joseph began by assuring Peter that the eagles had been sent back to Cæsarea. Cæsarea, Peter muttered, our Master has been there, and says it is as full as it can hold of graven images. Well, Peter, what I have come to say is, that were I to disappoint Pilate he might allow the robbers to infest the hills again, and all my money would be lost, and my partner’s money, and the camel-drivers would be killed; and if my convoys did not arrive in Jerusalem there might be bread riots. How would you like that, Peter?
Now what do ye say to that, Peter? and Philip looked up into Peter’s great broad face. Only this, Peter answered, that money will shipwreck our Community sooner or later — we’re never free from it. Like a fly, Philip suggested, the more we chase it away the more it returns. The fly cannot resist a sweating forehead, Philip, Peter said. Thine own is more sweaty than mine, Philip retorted, and a big blue fly is drinking his belly full though thou feelest him not, being as callous as a camel. The Master’s teaching is, Peter continued, having driven off the fly, that no man should own anything, that everyone should have the same rights, which seems true enough till we begin to put it into practice, for if I were to let whosoever wished take my boats and nets to go out fishing, my boats and nets would be all at the bottom of the lake before the sun went down as like as not, for all men don’t understand fishing. As we must have fish to live I haven’t parted with my boats; but every time we take that turning down yonder to the lake’s edge and I see my boats rocking I offer up a little prayer that the Master may be looking the other way or thinking of something else. James and John, sons of Zebedee, are of the same mind as myself — that we shouldn’t trouble the Master too closely with the working out of his teaching. The teaching is the thing. Why, they be coming towards us, as sure as my name’s Simon Peter, sent perhaps by the Master to fetch us, so long have we been away talking.
Joseph turned to greet the two young men, whom he had known always; as far back as he could remember he had talked to them over the oars, and seen them let down the nets and draw up the nets, and they had hoisted the sail for his pleasure, abandoning the fishing for the day, knowing well that Joseph’s father would pay them for the time they lost in pleasing his son. And now they were young men like himself, only they knew no Greek; rough young men, of simple minds and simple life, who were drawn to Jesus — James a lean man, whose small sullen eyes, dilatory speech and vacant little laugh used to annoy Joseph. James always asked him to repeat the words though he had heard perfectly. Joseph liked John better, for his mind was sturdy and his voice grew sullen at any word of reproof and his eyes flamed, and Joseph wondered what might be the authority that Jesus held over him, a rough turbulent fellow, whom Joseph had always feared a little; even now in their greeting there was a certain dread in Joseph, which soon vanished, for John’s words were outspoken and hearty. We’re glad to have you back again amongst us, Master, I’ve been saying since I left Capernaum this morning. But “Master” is a word, John, that I’ve heard isn’t used among you. Truly it is not used among the brotherhood, John answered. And I came to ask admission, Joseph said. Well, that be good news, Master — brother I should say, for our Master will be glad to meet thee. But that, Philip began, is just the matter we were speaking of among ourselves before we saw thee coming towards us. For there be a difficulty. He be as earnest as any of us, but our rule is what thou knowest it to be. Despite John’s knowledge of the rule Philip began the story, and again he was so prolix in it that Joseph, wishing John to decide on the strict matter of it, and not to be lost in details, some of which were true and some of which were false and all confused in Philip’s telling, interrupted the narrator, saying that he would give all the money that was strictly his, but his father’s he couldn’t give nor his partner’s. We’ve many camels, he said, in common, and how are these to be divided? Nor is it right, it seems to me, that my partner should be left with the burden of all the trade we have created together; yet it is hard that I who have sought Jesus in the deserts of Judea as far as Egypt, and found him in Galilee, at home, should be forced to range myself apart from him, with whom my heart is. Would that the Master were here to hear him speak, Philip interjected. He was with the Master last night, and the Master was well pleased with him. It all depends on what mood the Master be in, John answered, and they all fell to asking each other what the Master’s mood was that morning. But it would seem that all read him differently, and it was with joy at the prospect of a new opinion that they viewed Judas coming towards them.
And taking Judas into the discussion Peter said: now I’ve two boats, and John and James have four, so we aren’t without money though our riches are small compared with the young Master’s. Are we to sell our boats and give the money to the poor, and if we do who then will look after the Master’s wants? They are small it is true, a bit of fish and bread every day, and a roof over his head; but who will give him a roof if mine be taken from me? Is not this so? All seemed in agreement, and Peter continued: I am thinking, John, that our new brother might help us to buy the Master a new cloak, for his is falling to pieces and my wife’s mother is weary with patching it. He cured her of the fever, but she thinks that a great cost is put upon me and would ask the Master something for his keep. Whereupon John spoke out that the story of his mother-in-law was for ever the same; and seeing that he was offending Peter with the words he addressed against his wife’s mother, though indeed Peter liked her not too much himself, Joseph put his hand in his pocket and said: here are some shekels, go and buy Jesus a cloak, but say not to him whence the money came.
Say not to him! Judas interjected. No need to tell him that can read the thoughts in the mind. It would be better for the young Master to give him one of his old cloaks. Jesus would question the new cloak and say it savours of money. He sees into the heart. We have tried to keep things from him before, Judas continued turning to Joseph.... It is our duty to save him as much as we can. Peter has done much and I’ve shared the expense with Peter, though I am a poor man; we pick the stones from his path, for he walks with his eyes fixed upon the Kingdom of God always. Yes, he sees into our hearts, Philip interrupted, and reads through all we are thinking even before the thoughts come into our minds. It is as Philip says, Judas muttered: our hearts are open to him always. But James, who had not spoken till now, put forward the opinion, and no one seemed inclined to gainsay it, that if Jesus knew men’s thoughts before they came into men’s minds he must be warned of them by the angel
s. He goes into the solitude of the mountains to converse with the angels, James said — for what else? Moses went into the clefts of Mount Sinai, Joseph added, and he asked Peter to tell him if Jesus believed that the soul existed apart from the body, at which question Peter was fairly embarrassed, for the soul must be somewhere, he said, and if there be no body to contain it —— You must ask the Master about these things, we have not considered them. All the same we are glad that you are with us and ready to follow him into danger, for if the Sadducees and Pharisees are against him we are with him. Is that not so, sons of Zebedee?
