The Gospel According to the Son

by Norman Mailer

  "If any man shall say to you, 'Lo, here is Christ,' or say, 'He is here,' do not believe it. False prophets will arise and show great signs and wonders. If they say, 'Behold, he is in the desert,' do not rush forth into the wasteland. Or if they say, 'He is in the secret chamber,' do not believe it. Only when the lightning comes out of the east and lights up the west will there be the coming of the Son of Man. The sun will be darkened and the moon give no light; the stars will fall from heaven. The power of heaven will be shaken. Only then will the sign of the Son of Man appear and all will see him coming on the clouds of heaven with the great sound of a trumpet. I say to you, this generation shall not pass till all these things are fulfilled. Heaven and earth will pass away, but not my words. Watch, therefore. For you do not know the hour your Lord will come. Yet know this: If the good man of the house had known when the thief would come, he would have watched. He would not have suffered his house to be broken up. Therefore, be ready. For in the hour that you do not expect him, the Son of Man will come.

  "He will say: 'Inherit the Kingdom. I was hungry and you gave me meat; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you took me in; naked, and you clothed me; I was sick and you visited me; I was in prison and you came to me.' I say to you, whatever you have done to the least of my brethren, you have done it to me. And those who did not shall go to everlasting punishment. But the righteous will have life eternal."

  They cheered mightily, as if each of them was certain to be among the righteous. They seemed to believe that the hosannahs of the many were sufficient to do God's work and receive eternal life. How would they ever find their way to the Lord?

  Yet I could not mar their confidence. For my words had been powerful. Therefore, I must honor them. If such words owed their force to the eloquence of the Lord, still, I had been their messenger, and it was a mighty message.

  That night I fasted. The people of Jerusalem who greeted me on my path called me King, but they did not know that my kingdom, should I find it, would be in heaven. They were looking for a monarch who would restore the greatness we had known in Israel under King David.

  The dawn was cool, and I, feeling restored, was ready to go again to the Temple and sit beneath a sacred tree. I would teach.

  But on the road that went by the Mount of Olives, Pharisees stood in my path, and with them was a woman. They said: "Master, this woman was taken in adultery. She was caught in the very act. The Law commands that she be stoned. What will you say?"

  I knew that they would look to accuse me of leniency toward sinners. Therefore I gave my eyes neither to the woman nor to them. "You shalt not commit adultery," I said. "Whoever looks on a woman with lust has committed adultery in his heart." These words were for the young men among them whose eyes reflected their delight that they could stare openly at this woman taken in adultery; I also knew that their thoughts would soon provide idle hands with other forms of delight. To myself, I thought: If thy hand offend thee, cut it off.

  This woman before me must have within her every filth and effluence of the Devil's spew, fornication being the most powerful instrument of the Devil. So these Pharisees stood confidently before me, certain that I would find a way to pardon her and thereby admit that I was ready to traffic with whores. But I did no more than stoop down to the earth. And with my finger I wrote in the dust as though I had not heard them.

  Their minds were rich with calculation. They knew that to an Essene, unseemly fornication leads directly to the Fire. They would know how much I had learned from the scrolls about the perils of an unclean woman. Indeed, they had read the same scrolls. I remembered what was written of Jezebel in the Second Book of Kings; this Jezebel, a princess, had been thrown down from the high window of a tower, and her blood spattered upon the wall; courtiers rode horses over her and left her underfoot. When the king saw this, he said, "Bury this cursed woman, for she is a king's daughter." But they found no more of her than the skull and the feet and the palms of her hands. So they came and told him and he said, "This is the word of the Lord: 'Dogs shall eat the flesh of Jezebel and the carcass of Jezebel shall be as dung upon the field.'"

  Now, I hardly dared to look upon this woman whom the Pharisees had brought to me. Instead, I continued to write with my finger in the sand. If I did not know what I wrote, so I did not let them see it either.

  To myself, I whispered from the book of Proverbs: " 'The lips of a strange woman are honey and her mouth is smoother than oil, but the other end is as bitter as wormwood, as sharp as a two-edged sword. Her ways are loose. So do her feet take her down to death, those same feet once so swift in running after mischief.' "

  I did not look at her. Peter had come to sit beside me on the ground, and he unrolled the scroll that he carried with him to read when we would rest, and he always carried the scroll, even if he read with great difficulty.

  Yet he was close to my thoughts, for he pointed to a passage with his stout finger, twice as thick as one of mine, and in the old Hebrew tongue whispered: "It says: 'On account of a whorish woman is a man brought to a piece of bread.' " When I nodded to go on, he whispered further: " 'An adulterous woman eateth and wipeth her mouth and sayeth, "I have done no wickedness."

  I kept nodding in order to keep myself from stealing a look upon this woman. To myself I recited the words of Ezekiel: " 'The Babylonians came to the harlot Aholibah and took her into the bed of love, and they defiled her and she was polluted with them so she discovered her nakedness, yet she did multiply her whoredoms for she doted upon men whose issue is like the issue of horses.' "

  Despite myself, I gazed at last upon the woman taken in adultery.

  As I feared, she was beautiful. The bones of her face were delicate, and her hair flowed down her back. With art, she had painted her eyes. She was gentle even as her mouth was proud and foolish.

  My abhorrence of fornication had filled my years with thoughts of lust. I had suffered the ravages of unspent fury. But now I heard the soft voice of a spirit. Was her angel searching for mercy? I was offered a vision of this woman in the fumes of sin. And with a stranger! Even so, she was a creature of God. She might be near the Lord in ways I could not see, evenùcould it be?ùin the wallow of fornications with strangers. Was she, then, so different from the Son of Man? He too must be close to all strangers. Yes, she could even be close to God all the while that the hands of the Devil embraced her body. Her heart could be one with God even as her body was close to the Devil.

  So when these Pharisees, having been as silent and patient as fishermen, now asked me again, saying, "Moses and the Law command us. Such a woman should be stoned. What do you say?" I lifted myself up and spoke not only to my disciples but to the circle of scribes and Pharisees. I said: "If thy hand offend thee, cut it off." When they looked at me, I told them: "It is better to enter the other life maimed than to have two hands to take into hell." Then I saw fear in their eyes. "If your eye offend thee," I told them, "pluck it out. It is better to enter the Kingdom of God and see only with the eye that is left than have both eyes look into the flames. In hell-fire, the worm that eats at your flesh does not die." I was amazed. I felt cleansed of disturbance toward this woman, and by my own words. So I also said: "He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone."

  A tumult arose. It was so sudden and of such force that I nearly lost my balance and had to stoop once more and write again in the dust as if I cared more for what my finger could say to the earth than for all of them.

  Soon, and with each moment, their fury began to abate. Before long it had fled. Now they were pained by their own misdeeds.

  I saw them go away. They left one by one, commencing with the oldest man among them. (He had, perhaps, the most sin to support.) The last to leave was young, and may have been near to innocent. I was alone. Even Peter had departed. Only the woman stood before me.

  I could not bring myself to look into her eyes, then I did. In so doing, I still could not see her eyes. Instead, like a dream offered by Sata
n, I heard a verse from the Song of Songs. "The joints of thy thighs are like jewels, the work of a master's hand" were the words I heard, "and thy navel is like a round goblet." I told myself that I was in the presence of evil angels. For I could find my own evil, and it was rich and dark and begging to be cast forth from me. And these evil angels were so powerful that I knew I must be wary of the beauty of this woman.

  So I chose to speak to her in the words of the prophet Ezekiel. I said: " 'Behold your sin. It is written: "I will raise up thy lovers, and they shall come against thee with chariots and wheels, and they shall deal furiously with thee; they shall take away thy nose and ears and thy residue shall be devoured by fire. They shall also strip thee out of thy clothes and take away thy fair jewels. Thus will I make thy lewdness to cease immediately and thy whoredoms be brought out of the land of Egypt, so that thou shall not remember Egypt anymore."'"

  And this harlot, whose eyes were as purple as the last hour of evening, said gently, "I do not wish to lose my nose."

  I said, "Woman, where are your accusers? Has no man accused you?"

  She said, and her voice was modest, "No man is here to accuse me, Lord."

  I said, "Neither do I condemn thee. Go!"

  Yet it was not enough. For within this woman remained every echo of her whoredom. So I said: "Where can you go? Are you not bound still to fornication with strangers?"

  She replied: "If you do not condemn me, then do not pass judgment. Without the flesh there is no life."

  She was vain. She was strong. And I could see that she was wed to the seven powers of the Devil's wrath and to their offspring: the seven demons. So I must attempt to cast out these seven powers and demons. I knew they would come forth slowly. And indeed, when they did come forth, it was one by one, and they clawed at all good spirit between us. Some were sly and some were lewd, and more than one was hideousùseven powers and demons.

  The first was Darkness and its demon was treachery. Indeed, I was to realize even as I named each one that I had learned more from Satan than he wished to tell me. So I knew that Desire was the second power and pride would be its demon. And the third was Ignorance, with a huge appetite for the meat of swine, a gluttonous demon. Love of Death was the fourth power and its demon could be no less than the lust to eat another. For nowhere is our knowledge of death closer to us than when devouring flesh from a fellow human. The fifth power sought Whole Domain and its demon worked to defile all spirit; the good spirit that had come to this woman and myself was much buffeted as this demon came forth. And the sixth power was Excess of Wisdom. Its demon had the urge to steal a soul. Of them all, the last power was the most fearful. It was the Wisdom of Wrath; its demon was the lust to lay waste a city. Such were the seven powers and demons I drew forth from her. Only then could I say: "Go and sin no more." And she left.

  Afterward I would learn that her name was Mary and she was from Magdala in Tiberias, a city where many Jews had died in war against the Romans. Their bones now lay under the foundations of the buildings that had been erected by the victors. So this woman Mary Magdalene had committed adultery upon the ground of our martyrs. Yet I did not regret what I had done. For by half she was gentle, and that half belonged to God. Nor did I know that I would see her again. Yet I did.

  As I continued along the Street of Herodias on the morning of this second day, I was thinking how the street was named after the wife of Herod Antipas, and who could forget that she had ordered the death of John the Baptist? Yet this accursed name, Herodias, had been given to the avenue that leads to the great gate of the Temple.

  A blind man now accosted me. Blind from birth, he said. He had known none of the delight of a child's vision. One of my disciples asked: "Master, what sin did the parents of this man commit that he was born blind?"

  I replied too quickly: "This man is blind in order that the works of God can be made manifest to him so soon as he can see. And I will cure him."

  When I looked at the eyes of this blind man, however, I saw nothing with which to begin, not even a sightless eye on either side of his nose. There were nothing but two hollows beneath his brow. "I believe," I said to my Father. "Now help my unbelief."

  And I spat on the ground and made clay of the spittle and anointed his eyes. Then I said, "Go. Wash in the pool of Siloam," which was the pool beside our path.

  He groped his way there, tapping with his stick. When he came back, he could see. I heard him speak to his neighbors, and they said, "Aren't you the one who sat and begged?"

  Others replied, "That is the one."

  When they asked how he could see, I heard him say, "A man called Jesus anointed me, then told me to wash. Having done so, I can see."

  They said, "Where is this Jesus?"

  The man said, "I do not know."

  On the street, a Pharisee asked him how he had gained his sight, and the man told his story once more.

  Now, the Pharisees decided that he had not been blind from birth. So they called to his parents, who were filled with confusion; they could only say, "We know that this is our son and he was born blind, but by what means he now sees or who has opened his eyes, we don't know." Then they said, "Our son is of age. Ask him. He can speak for himself."

  Again the Pharisees went up to the man who had been blind and said: "The person who laid clay upon your eyes is a sinner."

  The man answered: "Whether he is a sinner, I do not know. But I was sightless and now I see."

  "How, then," asked the Pharisees, "did he open your eyes?"

  He replied: "I told you and you do not hear. Why would you hear it again? Do you wish to become his disciples?"

  The Pharisees said: "We are followers of Moses. But we cannot say where this Jesus came from."

  For each moment that this man could see the world as it was, he became bolder. I felt blessed to have given sight to such a fellow. "A marvelous thing," he said now, "that you don't know where this Jesus is from, yet he has opened my eyes. If he did not come from God, could he have done this?"

  The Pharisees reviled him. They beat upon him with their fists and said, "Born in sin, and now you teach?" They cast him out.

  When my disciples brought him back to me, I said, "I am not only here so that those who are without eyes might see but to teach those who claim to see that they are blind."

  And I said this with even more anger than I had known at the tables of the moneylenders; yes, more. This fury was not in my hands or in my feet; it was not in my voice; it had forced its way into the quiet reaches of my heart. When one of the Pharisees who overheard me say these words now asked, with much mockery, "Am I blind?" I replied, "In your sin you are blind."

  The man saw himself as important, and he said, "This Jesus has a devil and is mad." Others argued, "Can a devil open the eyes of a man who was born blind?"

  There was much dispute.

  Further down the Street of Herodias, an old Pharisee with a kind face, and many lines of wisdom in the twist of his nose and his mouth, came up to me and asked if we might talk. He said, "Many of us who are Jews and devout feel that you did well to overturn the tables of the moneylenders. Your act is a tribute to God. Too few of us are willing to rebuke greed." But, he said, he would like me to understand something that he had not understood when he was young. When I nodded, he began to speak. Indeed, I wished to calm myself before entering the Temple.

  "The Lord," he said, "is generous, and created us to be much like Him. Yet though we are in His image, still we know that we do not have His power."

  This elder seemed decent to me. I said: "Man may be created in His image, yet there are no miracles in man's hand."

  "Yes," he said. "But what of the one who does have miracles? Is he nearer to God? Or has the Devil deluded him? For the Evil One might use his power to do good; that may be within Satan's art. He could have the gift to give sight to a blind man. In that manner he could delude you further, noble Jesus, concerning the source of your miracles. And by that means he could also magnify the delusion
s you bring to poor Jews."

  "What you say," I told him, "is so finely crafted that you could be speaking for the Serpent."

  He sighed. He said, "I know you have a noble heart. It speaks from your eyes. I mean only to warn you. Already a few say that you are the Son of God." And he lowered his eyes before so blasphemous a remark. Only then could he speak again: "Some claim that you say it yourself. I pray that no harm will come to you from this. If you meet the High Priest Caiaphas, do not say anything of this nature to him. For if he should hear such words from your mouth, the sacrilege would be beyond measure. Yet for so long as he does not hear it from your mouth but only from others, he will prefer not to listen. For then he will not have to declare that a mortal sacrilege exists. Of such is your safety."

  I smiled at him, but I did not know if I could accept his advice.

  40

  On this second day in the Temple, the numbers who listened to me had multiplied. They stood in the courtyard and were loud and unruly in the force and fever of their prayers, and so there was need to speak on this matter, for if they did not know how to comport themselves in the Lord's house, they would not know how to act when alone.

  "Do not be like the hypocrites," I said, "who love to recite pious verses while standing in the synagogues. Instead, pray to your Father in secret. Do not use vain repetition. That deadens the soul. Never be guilty, therefore, of excessive prayer; your Father knows what you need."

  But they only wanted to hear of wondrous things, of portents in the heavens that would forewarn them of the end. So once there was calm, I chose to tell of how there would be signs in the sun, the moon, and in the stars, and of how there would be upheaval upon the earth and in the sea: "Men's hearts will fail them for fear. But if they are brave, they shall see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and glory. Then you may lift up your heads. For your redemption is near." To myself I said, "Oh, Lord, let my words be true."