A slow smile stole across David’s face. “And if you ask that, you are also asking who you don’t have to love, aren’t you?”
Again there was a long silence; then suddenly Deborah understood. “Jesus didn’t answer Reuben’s question,” she said.
Simeon and Leah turned around. “What?” Simeon said. “Of course he did. The whole story of the good Samaritan was the answer.”
“No,” she said, her face thoughtful. “No, think about it. Who was the neighbor? The priest? The Levite?”
“The Samaritan,” Leah said. “He’s the one who helped the man.” But even as she said it, she shook her head. “No.” It was said in wonder. “The neighbor was the wounded man. He was the one in need.”
“Exactly right,” David breathed, pleased that she saw it too. “The question that young man Reuben should have asked was not whom do I have to love to gain eternal life, but how do I have to love. That’s the lesson of the story.”
In that instant, Simeon understood as well. He had puzzled over the story all during supper and had finally given up, not quite sure what was bothering him about it. It was a wonderful story about caring for others, but something in the back of his mind had been nagging at him. He had the feeling there was a specific message in the story for him at this particular moment in his life. Now he saw it clearly. His task was to learn how to love God and his fellowman. Then he remembered what Jesus had said earlier that day. “Unto whom much is given, much is required.” That was it. This was what Jesus required of them. To change how they loved.
Leah still wasn’t satisfied. “All right, I see what you’re saying, Father, and it makes sense to me. But it wasn’t the story that bothered me. It was what Jesus said to Martha. I know there has to be a reason why he said what he did, but I can’t see it. It seems unfair.”
“Remember that he spoke to her with great love and tenderness,” David said. “But don’t you see any relationship between the parable and what happened at the house a little while later? Doesn’t it strike you as odd?”
“Odd?” Leah exclaimed. “Jesus chastising Martha was odd. That was so unlike him.”
“Maybe he wasn’t chastising her,” Deborah interjected quietly. “Maybe he was teaching her.”
That set Leah back a little. “Teaching her? Teaching her what?”
“This is what comes to my mind. What are the two great commandments of the Law, according to the lawyer?”
“To love God with all our heart and to love our neighbor as ourselves.”
“You listed those two commandments in the same order as Reuben did tonight. Is there a reason for that?”
“Of course,” Leah answered. “To love God is the most important. Loving your neighbor would be second.”
They had reached the bottom of the Kidron Valley and were in shadow. The moon was not high enough to penetrate its depths yet. From here, they would take a path that led south in a more direct route to Bethlehem. Deborah stopped, not to rest after coming down the hill, but to face Leah in the near darkness. “Now think for a moment, Leah. Which commandment was Mary keeping tonight, and which was Martha?”
For a moment, it seemed like a question that didn’t make sense, and then once again the flash of insight came. Simeon suddenly felt like a child. Under his mother’s gentle probing, suddenly it all became so clear, so evident, yet he hadn’t even caught a glimpse of it before. “That’s it,” he breathed. “Now I see what you are saying.”
Leah saw it too. “Mary was putting her love for the Son of God first,” she said slowly.
“And Martha?”
“She put dinner first.”
“No,” Simeon said, “it was more than that. She was showing love too, for us, for her guests, for her ‘neighbors.’”
“That’s right,” Deborah said, “and that is wonderful. What a fine woman she is to care for our needs, to want to make sure we are fed and made welcome. But of the two—feeding your friends, or loving Christ so much you can’t bear not to listen to him, which is more important? Or as Jesus put it, which is the one thing that is ‘needful—that good part’?”
Leah was completely contrite. “I see now,” she said meekly.
Deborah had one last thought. She asked the question as much of herself as of the others. “Jesus has said that he is the Bread of Life, and that if we partake of what he has for us—his life, his teachings, his gospel—we shall have everlasting life. So who had more to offer tonight? Martha to Jesus? Or Jesus to Martha?”
II
Bethlehem 10 April, a.d. 31
Simeon yawned mightily as he shuffled over to the table and sat down beside his niece and nephew. “Boker tov, Uncle Simeon,” young Esther said, eyeing him gravely.
“Good morning, Esther. Good morning, Boaz.”
Boaz looked up. He was forming a snake on his plate with the olive pits that remained from his breakfast. He gave Simeon a happy grin, then went back to his work, biting on his tongue as he concentrated fiercely on his task.
Rachel, who sat across the table from them, looked at her brother-in-law. “What time did you finally get home last night?”
Simeon yawned again before he could answer, winning a smile from her. “It was after midnight,” he said. He reached across and picked up a dried fig. “Are Mother and Father still asleep?”
“No. Father has already gone with Benjamin to see to the sheep. Mother and Aunt Esther went for a walk. They’ll be back in a little while.”
He groaned. “A walk? After yesterday? I’ll bet we walked ten miles all in all.”
Esther answered that one. “Granmama likes to walk. Her and me go for walks too.”
“I know.” Simeon smiled and reached for her hand. “How would you like to go for a walk with me today?”
The serpent was forgotten as Boaz’s head shot up. “Me too, Uncle Sheemon?”
“Yes, you too, Boaz.”
Rachel gave him a strange look. “But we’re going into Jerusalem again today.”
“I know.” He looked at the two children. “But Esther and Boaz and I are going to go together, aren’t we.”
A tiny smile lit up Esther’s eyes. “Just us?”
“Just us. Mama and Papa are going to go with Pampa and Granmama.”
“Go where?”
They all turned as Ephraim came through the door.
“To Jerusalem, Papa,” Esther exclaimed. “Uncle Simeon’s going to take us to Jerusalem.”
Ephraim frowned slightly as he turned to Simeon. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m going to take the children to listen to Jesus today. All day. You go with Mother and Father.” He was looking at Rachel. “Go listen to Jesus without worrying about them.”
“But—”
“You deserve some time without the children.” He laughed. “Except for the one you’re carrying with you. I can’t do much about that one.” His face softened. “I know how much you and Ephraim wanted to go last night. So today, it’s your turn.”
“I can’t do that,” Rachel started. “You—”
But Simeon cut her off. “Let’s take a vote. How many of the children here would like to spend the day with Uncle Simeon?”
Both hands shot up, waving wildly.
“And how many want to go with Mama and Papa?”
Boaz jammed both of his hands under his legs, so that there would not be the slightest chance of anyone misunderstanding his wishes. Esther folded her arms and looked at her mother triumphantly.
“See there!” Simeon laughed. “You lose. I’ll find a cart going into the city so they don’t have to walk the whole way.”
“Are you sure?” Rachel asked softly.
Simeon nodded. “We’re going to hear Jesus too, but let me worry about the children.”
Boaz jumped out of his seat and started a little dance, fists clenched and punching the air, chanting triumphantly.
Rachel got up and came around the table. She bent down and kissed Simeon on the cheek. “Thank you,
” she murmured.
He reached up and touched her hand. “It’s not just for you, Rachel. I’ve missed these two and I won’t get to see them again for a while.”
III
The rest of the family prepared to leave about half an hour later. Esther and Boaz were still getting their sandals on, so Simeon went to the small courtyard to say good-bye.
Ephraim came over and gripped his hand. “Thank you, Simeon. Rachel is almost as excited as the children.”
“We’ll see you up there, I’m sure, but don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
“More than fine,” Ephraim said with a smile. “I’ve not seen those two this excited in some time.”
Rachel came over. “If they get tired, just come and find us.”
“Don’t even think it,” he said. “They are mine all day.”
“Remember,” Deborah called as he opened the gate into the street, “tonight is Passover Eve. We have to get back here at least an hour before sundown.”
“We will,” Simeon promised. “Who is going to stop by the temple and get the paschal lamb?” The key element in the Passover dinner was the lamb that would be roasted and completely consumed this night. But it could not be just any lamb. Though there would be thousands of sheep prepared for the families in Jerusalem this night, every one had to be carefully inspected by the priests to ensure there were no blemishes or defects, and then each animal had to be sacrificed and prepared in a precise ritual. In Hebrew, the word meaning “to pass over” was pesach, thus the name paschal lamb.
Ephraim lifted a hand. “If you have the children, we can do it.”
“Good.”
As the rest of the family moved through the gate out into the street, his mother suddenly turned and came back to Simeon. She went up on tiptoe and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Martha.”
For a moment he was startled; then he laughed, pleased that she understood. “Rachel deserves at least one time when she can be Mary.”
“Yes, she does.”
They stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Do you know what I want?” he asked gruffly.
“What?”
“When I grow up and get married, I want to be just like you and Father.”
IV
Jerusalem
“Tell us about this,” Simeon said to the vendor, pointing to a thin narrow roll of something dark brown but with tiny points of light glistening in the sunlight.
The man behind the little two-wheeled cart picked one up. “It’s a date stick. We grind up the flesh of the date, press it into a flat sheet, sprinkle it with chopped almonds and soak it in honey. Then we roll it up onto a stick and let it harden.” He looked down into Boaz’s wide brown eyes. “It’s very good,” he said.
Boaz was sold long before the explanation. “I want one,” he said to Simeon.
Simeon looked at Esther. She wasn’t sure yet. “Could you give us a little sample? Our little queen here needs to pass judgment before we make such a significant purchase.”
The man smiled. “Of course.” Breaking off two small pieces from the end of one, he handed them to each child.
The reaction was almost instantaneous. “Umm,” Esther murmured. “That’s good, Uncle Simeon.” Boaz was nodding enthusiastically.
“Give us six of them,” Simeon said, pulling out his purse.
They walked on slowly, savoring their purchase, Simeon holding on to their hands as they made their way through the heavy crowds. As they approached the temple, Simeon tried to explain to them in simple terms what they were seeing. They were walking along the soreg, or wall of partition. This was the low fence that marked the point beyond which no Gentile could go without risking death. He was explaining how the partition separated the Court of the Gentiles from the inner courts of the temple proper when they nearly bumped right into Yehuda and Shana.
“Oh!” Shana exclaimed. Then she quickly recovered. “Shalom, Simeon.” Her color deepened and she looked down.
“Shalom, Shana. Shalom, Yehuda.”
Yehuda was a little taken aback by this unexpected meeting too, but reached out and shook Simeon’s hand. Then he looked down. “And what have we here?”
“You remember Yehuda and Shana,” Simeon said to the children. “We went to their home in Beth Neelah up in the Galilee last year, remember?” Then to them he said. “These are Ephraim and Rachel’s children, Esther and Boaz. Esther is five now, and Boaz will be three next week.”
Esther had her head cocked, looking up at Shana curiously. Then she tugged at Simeon’s hand, pulling him down. “I remember. She’s your wife, Uncle Simeon.”
Simeon flushed. Shana went a deep scarlet. “Well, we were betrothed, Esther,” Simeon said, recovering quickly, “but not any longer.”
“Oh.”
“What’s ‘trothed,’” Boaz wanted to know. He took a bite of his date stick and munched on it as he waited for the answer.
“It means you promise to get married,” Esther told him.
Simeon was just standing there, feeling very awkward. Shana was likewise uncomfortable. Then suddenly Shana stepped forward and kissed Simeon softly on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Simeon. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“No,” he whispered. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Shana. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.”
She stepped back beside her brother. Her eyes were shining. “I know. But you brought Yehuda back to me. That helps to make things right again. Thank you.” And with that she walked away, not looking back.
Yehuda watched her go, then finally looked at Simeon. “I talked with her about the situation, why it may be best not to try to go back to how things were before. She agreed. I think she’s accepted it now.”
“I hope so. I wouldn’t want to hurt her anymore, Yehuda.”
“I know.” Yehuda turned. “We saw your family a little while ago in the same place as yesterday.”
“Was Jesus there?”
“Yes.”
“I guess you aren’t interested in—”
“No,” he cut in. “Do you still plan to leave the morning after Passover week is done?”
Simeon nodded. “I’ll come get you.”
With a brief wave, Yehuda moved away. Simeon took Boaz’s hand again, but he looked down at Esther. “Would you like to go see Jesus?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then stay close. There are lots of people today.”
As they started walking again, Boaz looked up at Simeon. “She’s pretty.”
“Shana? Yes, she’s very pretty.”
“She must really like you,” Esther observed, sounding very old.
What had this five-year-old seen that brought that comment? Simeon wondered. The near tears in Shana’s eyes? The look on her face? Or had she caught the tremor in her voice? “Why do you say that?” Simeon asked.
“Because she kissed you even though your face is all scratchy,” Esther said, greatly impressed.
Simeon laughed loudly enough to draw curious looks from several people. Still chuckling, he put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you know what? I am really glad you two voted to come with me today. This is going to be a wonderful day.”
V
By the time Simeon located Jesus, more hampered by the slowness of the children than any difficulty in finding him, Boaz had asked to be lifted up and then immediately fell asleep against Simeon’s shoulder. As they approached the east end of the Royal Portico, Simeon saw that most of the crowd gathered around Jesus were seated on the great marble slabs that formed the floor. The only ones standing were those around the edges of the group. As he moved into the deep shade, a couple about the age of his parents saw him and waved him over. They were seated on a stone bench and offered it to him.
He gratefully sat down, letting the weight of Boaz’s young body transfer from his arms to his body. “Todah raba,” he murmured. “Thank you very much.”
They smiled and moved away. He made sure Esther was comfortable beside him, then looked aroun
d. Straight across from him he saw his family. Rachel gave him a questioning look and made signs that she would come and take the children. He shook his head firmly, then looked away before she could argue with him further.
To his surprise, when he looked to the front, Jesus was watching him. Simeon nodded and received a smile and nod in return. Then Jesus’ smile broadened, and he lifted a hand and waved. Looking down, Simeon saw that Esther was waving to him, smiling as happily as she had when Simeon had bought them the date sticks. Simeon put his arm around her and she snuggled up against him.
He jumped a little as someone sat down next to him and turned to see Rachel beside him. “Are you sure you don’t want me take Boaz, at least?”
Simeon shook his head. “That is a firm no,” he whispered. He laid his head against his nephew’s. “Why should you be the only one to get these kinds of opportunities?”
Rachel’s mouth softened as she looked at her son, his face in perfect repose. Then she peered around Simeon. “Esther, would you like to come over with me and Papa and Pampa and Granmama?”
Esther shook her head without hesitation.
Simeon felt the pleasure infuse his entire body. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m the man of the hour today. You’ll just have to get used to that.”
She touched his arm, then stood and made her way back to the rest of the family. Simeon returned his mother’s warm smile with one of his own. Then he turned back to listen to Jesus. He was teaching the people about the cost of discipleship again, sharing the same parable of building a tower as he had done before. Simeon let his eyes run over the crowd. They were of every kind and social class. The greatest number were commoners. They were the laborers and farmers and shopkeepers and artisans that made up the backbone of Israel. Plainly dressed in tunics and robes of their own making, none of them had the trappings of the leaders of the two main parties of Judaism. They had come to hear for themselves this preacher from the Galilee.
In sharp contrast to that, three or four elegantly dressed Sadducees stood near the back of the crowd, their heads together as they muttered darkly to each other. Nor was Simeon surprised to see Azariah, chief of the Pharisees in Jerusalem and a member of the Great Council, on the other side of the group. He was in the midst of about a dozen other scribes and Pharisees, including several that Simeon recognized from the day before. Then Simeon’s eyes widened a little as he recognized one of the faces. It was his Uncle Aaron. He had seen Simeon too and inclined his head slightly to acknowledge that fact. Simeon smiled back. He had not seen Aaron since he, Yehuda, Barak, and Samuel had been released from prison, but he had written a short letter expressing his thanks for the part Aaron and Amram had taken in trying to convince Pilate to free him.
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