by George Moore
Peter’s sudden appeal to his knowledge of the priests of Jerusalem awoke Joseph, who was wholly absorbed in his love of Jesus, and thought only of rushing forward and worshipping; but he was held back and strained forward at the same time, and seeing he was overcome, Peter did not press him for an answer, and Joseph fell back among the crowd, ashamed, thinking that if Peter came to him again he would speak forthright. He had words that would bring him into the sympathy of Jesus, but instead of speaking them he stood, held at gaze by the beauty of the bright forehead, large and arched; and so exalted were the eyes that Joseph could not think else than that Jesus was looking upon things that his disciples did not see. It seemed to Joseph that Jesus was meditating whether he should confide all he saw and heard to his disciples. He waited, tremulous with expectation, watching the thin scrannel throat out of which rose a voice to which the ear became attuned quickly and was gratified as by a welcome dissonance. It rose up among the silence of the pines, and the delight of listening to it, Joseph thought, was so near to intoxication that he would have pressed forward if he had not remembered suddenly that he was a new-comer into the community; one who might at any moment be driven out of it because he possessed riches which he could not unburden himself of. So he kept his seat in the background among the casual followers, by two men whose accents told him they were Samaritans, and these now seemed within the last few minutes to have become opposed to Jesus, and Joseph wondered at the change that had come over them and lent an ear to their discourse so that he might discover a reason for it. And it was not long before he discovered that their objection related to the Book of Daniel, for they were of the sort that receive no Scriptures after the five Books of the Law.
Joseph knew the book less perhaps than any other book of the Scriptures; he had looked into it with Azariah, but for a reason which he could not now discover he had read it with little attention; and since his schooldays he had not looked into it again. Peter and Andrew and John and James were listening intently to the story of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream for the sake of the story related and without thought of what might be Jesus’ purpose in relating it. But to Joseph Jesus’ purpose was the chief interest of the relation; and the purpose became apparent when he began to tell how the great statue seen by Nebuchadnezzar in his dream, whose head was gold, whose arms and breast were silver, whose belly was brass, and whose legs and feet were iron and clay intermingled, was overthrown by a stone that hand had not cut out of the mountain. This stone became forthwith as big as a mountain and filled the whole earth, and Joseph fell to thinking if this stone were the fifth kingdom which the Messiah would set up when the Roman kingdom had fallen to dust, or whether the stone were the Messiah himself. And while Joseph sat thinking he heard suddenly that when Nebuchadnezzar looked into the furnace and saw the four men whom he had ordered to be thrown into it walking through the flames safely, he said: and the form of the fourth is like the son of God.
The story wholly delighted the disciples; and they asked Jesus to tell them the further adventures of Daniel, and as if wishing to humour them he began to relate that a hand had appeared writing on the wall during the great feast at Babylon, a story to which Joseph could give but little heed, for his imagination was controlled by the words, “whose form is like the son of God” — an inspiration on the part of the Babylonian king. If ever a man had seemed since to another like the son of God, Jesus was that man; and Joseph asked himself how it was that these words had passed over the ears of the disciples — over the ears of those who knew Jesus’ mind, if any could be said to know Jesus’ mind. Jesus, though he lived near them and loved them, lived in the world of his own thoughts, which, so it seemed to Joseph, he could not share with anybody. Not one of the men he had gathered about him, neither Peter, nor John, nor James, had noticed the notable words: “And the form of the fourth is like the son of God.” It was for these words, Joseph felt sure, that Jesus had related the story of Daniel in the furnace. But his disciples had not apprehended the significance; and like one whose confidence was unmoved by the slowness or the quickness of his listeners, almost as if he knew that the real drift of his speech was beyond his hearers, Jesus began to tell that Darius’ counsellors had combined into a plot against Daniel and succeeded in it so well that Daniel and his companions were cast in a den of lions. But there being nothing in the story that pointed to the setting up of the Kingdom of God upon earth, Joseph was puzzled to understand why Jesus was at pains to relate it at such length. Was it to amuse his disciples? he asked himself, but no sooner had he put the question to himself than the purpose of the relation passed into his mind. Jesus had told the marvellous stories of Daniel’s escapes from death so that his disciples might have no fear that the priests of Jerusalem would have power to destroy him: whomsoever God sends into the world to do his work, Jesus would have us understand, are under God’s protection for ever and ever; and Joseph rejoiced greatly at having discovered Jesus’ intent, and for a long time the glen, the silent forest and the men sitting listening to the Master were all forgotten by him. He even forgot the Master’s presence, so filled was he by the abundant hope that his divination of the Master’s intent marked him out as one to be associated with the Master’s work — more than any one of those now listening to him, more than Peter himself.
And so sweet was his reverie to him that he regretted the passing of it as a misfortune, but finding he was in spirit as well as in body among realities, he lent his ear to the story of the four winds that had striven upon the great sea and driven up four great beasts. These beasts Joseph readily understood to be but another figuration of the four great empires; the Babylonian, the Persian, and the Grecian had been blown away like dust, and as soon as the fourth, the Roman Empire, was broken into pieces the kingdom of the whole world would be given to the people of the saints of the Most High. It was Philip the nearly hunchback that asked Jesus for an explanation of this vision — saying, and obtaining the approval of several for the question, would he, Jesus, acquiesce in this sharing of the earth among the angels who had not seen him, nor heard him, nor served him upon earth. If the earth is to be shared among the angels we follow thee in vain, he muttered; and Joseph felt that he could never speak freely again with Philip for having dared to interrupt the Master and weary him with questions that a child could answer. To whom Philip said: but you, young Master, that have received good instruction in Hebrew and Greek from the scribe Azariah, and have travelled far, do you answer my question. If the earth is to be shared among angels —— He was not allowed to repeat more of his question, for a clamour of explanation began among the disciples that the earth would not be shared among the angels of God — God would find his people repentant when he arrived with his son. At last the assembly settled themselves to listen to the story of the vision in which a ram pushed westward and northward and southward, till a he-goat came from the west — one with a notable horn between the eyes, and butted the ram till he had broken his two horns. Joseph had forgotten these visions, and he learnt for the first time, so it seemed to him, that the goat meant the Syrian king, Antiochus, who had conquered Jerusalem, polluted the sanctuary and set up heathen gods. But how are all these visions concerned with the setting up of the Kingdom of God on earth? and Jesus’ purpose did not appear to him till Daniel heard a voice between the banks of the Ula crying: make this man understand. Joseph understood forthwith that Jesus’ purpose was still the same, to make it plain to the disciples that Daniel was protected and guided by God, and, that being so, Jesus could go to Jerusalem fearing nothing, he being greater than Daniel. So he sat immersed in belief, hearing but faintly the many marvellous things that Daniel heard and saw, nor did he awake from his reverie till Jesus announced that Gabriel flew about Daniel at the hour of the evening oblation, telling him that seventy weeks was the measure of time allowed by God to make reconciliation for iniquity and bring everlasting righteousness, and build Jerusalem unto the Messiah; and that after three score and two weeks the Messiah should be cut o
ff but not for himself.
The words “cut off but not for himself” troubled Joseph, and he pondered them, while the disciples marvelled at hearing Jesus speak of these things (he seemed to know the Scriptures by rote), and his voice went upward into the silence of the firs, and they heard as if in a dream that the king of the south should come into his kingdom and return to his own land. But his sons shall be stirred up and shall revolt against him, Jesus said, and the disciples marvelled greatly, for Jesus made clear the meaning that lay under these dark sayings, and they heard and understood how the robbers of the people should exalt themselves and establish a vision; but these shall fall and the king of the north shall come and cast up mounds and take the fortified cities. And they heard of destructions and leagues and armies and sanctuaries that were polluted, and of peoples who did not know their God, but who nevertheless became strong; and they heard of Edom and Moab and the children of Ammon, but at the end of all these troubles the Tabernacle was placed between the seas of the glorious holy mountain. And that day the fishers from the lake of Galilee and others heard that Michael had told the people of Israel that those that were dead should rise out of the earth and come into everlasting life. But can the dead be raised up and come to life in their corruptible bodies? asked the Samaritans that sat by Joseph, and their mutterings grew louder, and they denied that the prophet Daniel had spoken truth in this and many other things, and as he had not spoken truth he was a false prophet; whereupon so great a clamour arose that the wild beasts in the ravine began to growl, being awaked in their lairs. The disciples, foreseeing that it would soon be dark night in the forest, fell to seeking the way back to Capernaum, the Galileans in one group with Jesus among them, the Samaritans speeding away together and stopping at times for fresh discussion with the Galileans, asking among many other things how the corruptible body might be raised up to heaven and live indulging in the many imperfections inherent in our bodies. It was vain to ask them what justice there would be if the men that had died before the coming of the Kingdom of God were not raised up into heaven. If this were true the dead had led virtuous lives in vain; they might for all it had profited them have lived like the heathen.
It was at Capernaum that the truth became manifest that not only was Daniel denied, but Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, all the prophets since Moses, at which the disciples were greatly incensed and raised their staves against the Samaritans, but Jesus dissuaded his followers, and the dissidents were suffered to depart unhurt. Let them go, Jesus said, for they are in the hands of God, like ourselves, and he bade them all good-night, and there seemed to Joseph to be a great sadness in Jesus’ voice, as if he felt that in this world there was little else but leave-taking.
Joseph too resented this parting, though it was for but a few hours; he would unite himself to Jesus, become one, as the mother and the unborn babe are one — he would be of the same mind and flesh; all division seemed to him loss, till, frightened at his own great love of Jesus, he stopped in the Plain of Gennesaret, star-gazing. But the stars told him nothing, and he walked on again. And it was about a half-hour’s walk from Magdala that he overtook the Samaritans, who sought to draw him into argument. But he was in no humour for further discussion, and dismissed them, saying: what matter if all the prophets were false since the promised Messiah is among us. He has come, he has come! he repeated all the way home: and at every flight of the high stairs he tried to collect his thoughts. But his brain was whirling, and he could only repeat: he has come, he has come!
CHAP. XIV.
IT SEEMED TO Joseph as he hurried along the Plain of Gennesaret that the sun shone gayer than his wont, but as he approached Capernaum he began to think that the sun had risen a little earlier than his wont. Nobody was about! He listened in vain for some sound of life, till at last his ear caught a sound as of somebody moving along the wharves, and, going thither, he came upon Peter storing his oars in the boathouse. Making ready, Joseph said, for fishing? You don’t see, Master, that I’m putting my oars away, but I’d as lief take them out again and fish till evening. Here was a mysterious answer from the least mysterious of men, and Peter continued in his work, throwing the oars into a corner like one that cared little if he broke them, and kicking his nets aside as if he were never going to let them down again into the lake: altogether his mood was of an exasperation such as Joseph had never suspected to be possible in this good-humoured, simple fellow. Had he been obliged to leave the community or sell his boats? If that were so, his chance (Joseph’s chance) of entering the community was a poor one indeed; and he begged Peter to relate his trouble to him — for trouble there had been last night, he was sure of it.
Trouble there always is in this world, Peter answered, so long as I’ve known it, and will be till God sets up his kingdom. The sooner he does it the better, so say I. But I don’t know about the saints we heard of yesterday, what they have to do with it. The Master’s mood is stranger than I ever can recollect it, he said, standing up straight and looking Joseph in the eyes. It was yourself that said it yesterday, Peter, Joseph rejoined. I’m thinking it may have been the Samaritans that vexed him. Peter lifted his heavy shoulders and muttered: the Samaritans? We give no heed to them: and he began to speak, at first with diffidence; Joseph had to woo him into speaking, which he did; but after the first few minutes Peter was glib enough, telling Joseph that last night there had been stirs and quarrels among the disciples regarding his boats, and John’s and James’ boats too, he said, and by the jealous and envious, he muttered, who would like to come between us and the Master. Joseph asked who had raised the vexatious question, but Peter avoided it, and went about the wharf grunting that none could answer it: was it to Matthew, the publican, he was to give his boats? one, he said, who never was on the water in his life till I took him out for a sail a week come Tuesday. A fine use they’d be to him but to drown himself. A puff of wind, and not knowing how to take in a reef, the boat would be over in a jiffy and the nets lost. Now who would be the better for the loss of my nets? answer me that. And I’d like to be told when my boats and nets were at the bottom of the lake to whom would the Son of Man turn for a corner in which to lay his head, or for a bite or a sup of wine. John and James would give their boats to Judas belike, and he’d bring home about as much fish as would —— But I’m thinking of your father. What will he be saying to all this, and his business dwindling all the while, and we beggars? — the words with which my wife roused me this morning. Of course, says she, if the stone that never was cut out of the mountain with hands is going to be slung and send the Romans toppling, I’ve naught to say against sharing, but the Kingdom had better come quickly, Simon Peter, if thou’lt fish no more; and the woman is right, say I, though I hold with every word that falls from the Master’s lips, only this way it is, he looks to my fishing for his support, and Miriam is quick to remind me of that. A good woman, one that has been always yielding to my will and never had a word against our lodger, but sets the best before him out of thankfulness for his saving of her mother’s life, though one more mouth in a house is always a drain, if the Master is as easily fed as a sparrow. But restive she is now about the delay: as I was saying just now she wakes me up with a loud question in my ear: now, Simon Peter, answer me, art thou going into Syria to bid the blind to see, the lame to walk, and the palsied to shake no more, or art thou going to thy trade? for in this house there be four little children, myself, their mother, and thy mother-in-law. I say nothing against the journey if it bring thee good money, or if it bring the Kingdom, but if it bring naught but miracles there’ll be little enough in the house to eat by the time ye come back. And, says she, the feeding of his children is a nobler work for a married man (she speaks like that sometimes) than bidding those to see who would belike be better without their eyes than with them. You wouldn’t think it, but ’tis as I say: she talks up to me like that, and ofttimes I’ve to go to the Master and ask him to quiet her, which he rarely fails to do, for she loves him for what he has done for her mother
, and is willing to wait. But last night when the busybodies brought her news that the Master had been preaching in the forest, of the sharing of the world out among the holy saints, she gave way to her temper and was violent, saying, by what right are the saints of the most high coming here to ask for a share of this world, as if they hadn’t a heaven to live in. You see, good Master, there’s right on her side, that’s what makes it so hard to answer her, and I’m with her in this, for by what right do the holy saints down here ask for a share in the world, that’s what keeps drumming in my head; and, as I told you a while ago, I’d as lief put out upon the lake and fish as go to Syria for nothing, say the word —— And leave the Master to go alone? Joseph interposed. Well, I suppose we can’t do that, Peter answered, and then it seemed to Joseph wiser not to talk any more, but to allow things to fashion their own course, which they did very amiably, in about an hour’s time the little band going forth, Joseph walking by Peter’s side, hoping that he would not have to wait long before seeing a miracle.
Their first stop was at Chorazin, about five miles distant, and the sick began to rise quickly from their beds, and Jesus had only to impose his hands for the palsied to cease quivering. The laws of nature seemed suspended and Joseph forgot his father at Magdala and likewise Pilate’s business which had brought him to Galilee. It will have to wait, he said, talking with himself, and now certain that he had come upon him whom he had always been seeking; it was as lost time to look at anything but Jesus, or to hear any words but his, or to admire aught but the manifestations of his power; and every time a sick man rose from his bed Joseph thanked God for having allowed him to live in the days of the Messiah. He saw sight restored to the blind, hearing to the deaf, swiftness of foot to cripples, issues of blood that had endured ten years stanched; the cleansing of the leper had become too common a miracle; he looked forward to seeing demons taking flight from the bodies of men and women, and accepted Peter’s telling that the day could not be delayed much longer when he would see some dead man rise up in his cere-clothes from the tomb. He found no interest but in the miraculous, and his one vexation of spirit was that Jesus forbade his disciples (among whom Joseph now counted himself) to tell anybody that he was the Messiah.
