The Galileans: A Novel of Mary Magdalene (30 page)

“Shalom, friend of friends,” the lawyer said, looking at Joseph keenly. “You seem fatigued; perhaps you should take a journey too.”

“I have no time to be running hither and yon as you do,” Joseph told him, smiling. “It is enough that I have to visit Caesarea every month or so to look after the Lady Procula.”

“She and Pontius Pilate are in Tiberias now. I hear they will stay for the winter.”

Joseph’s heart quickened at this good news. With Claudia Procula and Pilate in Tiberias, he might have a legitimate reason to visit Galilee again. And perhaps he would see Mary, if only from a distance. “What is the news from Galilee?” he asked. “Does Herod Antipas still plot to free Judea from the procurators?”

“Endlessly. But the more I see of that misbegotten spawn of Herod the Great, the more I respect the Romans.”

“Even Pontius Pilate?”

Nicodemus shrugged. “There is no such thing as a good Roman, I suppose. They told me in Sepphoris that Pilate grows more moody and temperamental every day. And that nephew of his, Gaius Flaccus, is the most hated man in all of Galilee.”

Joseph looked away, lest he reveal the turbulent feelings aroused by the mention of Sepphoris and Gaius Flaccus.

“I went to a dinner at Herod’s palace,” Nicodemus continued. “Gaius Flaccus attended and brought with him the most beautiful red-haired woman I ever saw. Some claimed she was a slave, but she was obviously a lady, and others called her his mistress.”

“Is she known thus in Sepphoris?” Joseph somehow managed to keep his voice calm.

“And throughout Galilee,” Nicodemus agreed. “Hating Gaius Flaccus as they do, the people of Galilee would hardly be expected to love a Jewess who lives with him, even if she were married to him.”

“But she gave herself to Gaius Flaccus to save the life of someone she loved!” Joseph cried indignantly.

“So?” Nicodemus’s eyes brightened with interest. “How did you know all this?”

Joseph had no alternative then but to tell the whole story.

“It is strange,” Nicodemus said, “but I would have sworn Mary of Magdala no longer hates Gaius Flaccus, although she would still have every reason to do so from the way he treats her.”

Could Mary possibly have come to love a man she had hated bitterly enough to try to take his life? Joseph wondered. The very thought was disloyal to her, and yet his experience as a physician had taught him that the heart of a woman is something a man can never hope to understand. He remembered now what Demetrius had said long ago, that a woman never quite overcame the emotional shock of being possessed by a man, and that something deep within her, some savage instinct beyond reason, might draw her to him again.

“I wouldn’t say she loves him as a woman does her husband, though,” Nicodemus added. “In fact, her manner toward Gaius Flaccus was more like the way people behave who have come under the spell of Jesus of Nazareth.”

“Did you see Him?” Joseph asked in surprise. He would not have expected a doctor of the law from Jerusalem, such as Nicodemus, to pay any attention to the sort of Galilean rabble rouser who was always causing trouble in that turbulent region. But Jerusalem had begun to buzz lately with talk of the Nazarene’s doings, so Joseph was interested, if only from curiosity.

“Yes, I saw Him,” Nicodemus said slowly, his voice suddenly far away. “I saw Him in Capernaum. And I was almost persuaded to follow Him.”

“Do you realize what you are saying?” Joseph demanded incredulously. It was one thing for the Galileans to make much over the man called Jesus. Everybody knew their emotions were fickle and they had followed false leaders before, to their sorrow. But Nicodemus was an aristocrat of Jerusalem, a Pharisee of the Pharisees, and a member of the Sanhedrin itself. For him to accept the Teacher of Nazareth, whose doings were attracting more and more attention in the Holy City, was almost like an endorsement from the high priest Caiaphas himself.

“It startles me too, when I think how close I came to giving up everything and becoming a part of the Galilean rabble that follows Jesus,” Nicodemus admitted.

“This man must be a spellbinder indeed, to have you so bemused.”

Nicodemus shook his head. “He is no zealot, like so many in Galilee. In fact, Jesus may really be what many of His followers believe Him to be—the Messiah.”

“Tell me what happened,” Joseph suggested, for it was obvious that Nicodemus was not thinking clearly.

“I went to Capernaum to settle a legal matter for a man named Zebedee who runs the largest fishing establishment on the lake,” Nicodemus explained. “Did you know that Zebedee’s sons and a man named Simon who was chief of the fishermen have all become followers of Jesus?”

“I once treated Simon for an arm broken in a fight over the Messiah. He has espoused radical causes before, and so have the sons of Zebedee.”

“It was no zealot’s plea that made Simon and the others follow Jesus,” Nicodemus insisted. “The Teacher came walking along the shore one day when Simon and Andrew, his brother, were casting their nets. All He said was, ‘Follow me and I will make you fishers of men.’ But it was enough to make them drop their nets and become His disciples. The same thing happened with the sons of Zebedee, John and James.”

“How does He cast this spell over people?” Joseph wondered.

“You must see and hear Him to understand,” Nicodemus explained. “What I was told by Zebedee aroused my curiosity, so I joined a crowd listening to Jesus. I tell you, Joseph, there were people among them not only from Galilee, but from the cities of the Decapolis, from Jerusalem and Judea, and even the country beyond the Jordan. The Teacher had to go up on the side of the mountain so they could all hear Him.”

“Do you remember what He taught?”

“That is another strange thing. What He said is engraved in my mind as firmly as the texts I learned when Bar Mitzvah. They were simple things, like this:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.

Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so men persecuted the prophets who were before you.

“It is a fine set of principles,” Joseph admitted. “But they are not new. The Greek philosophers said much the same thing, and so did a writer of our own race in the Testament of Gad. I was reading it only last night.” He went into the house and came out with a scroll. “Listen to this:

Hatred, therefore, is evil, for it constantly maketh with lying, speaking against the truth; and it maketh small things to be great, and causeth the light to be darkness, and calleth the sweet bitter, and teacheth slander, and kindleth wrath, and stirreth up war, and violence and all covetousness; It filleth the heart with evils and devilish poisons.

Righteousness casteth out hatred, humility destroyeth envy. For he that is just and humble is ashamed to do what is unjust, being reproved not of another, but of his own heart, because the Lord looketh upon his inclination.

“Their doctrines are similar,” Nicodemus admitted. “‘I thought of the Testament of Gad and the teachings of Esdras while I was listening to Him.”

“Here is something else,” Joseph continued:

And now, my children, I exhort you, love ye each one his brother, and put away hatred from your hearts, love one, another in deed, and in word, and in the inclination of the soul.

If a man prospereth more than you, do not be vexed, but pray also for him, that he may have perfect prosperity. For so it is expedient for you. And if he be further exalted, be not envious of him, remembering that all flesh shall die; and offer praise to God, who giveth all things good and profitable to all men.

As Joseph rolled up the scroll Nicodemus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It seems to me that Jesus’ teachings are not that much different from what I’ve already heard,” he admitted. “But something about the man Himself, something you can’t put into words, makes you want to follow Him.”

“What is He like?”

“He is tall and well proportioned. And His face is full of kindness. He wears His hair long and has a beard.”

“You could be describing almost any Jew with a pleasing countenance,” Joseph pointed out, smiling.

“Actually, I thought of you when I first saw Him,” Nicodemus said. “You have the same kindness in your face. But Jesus’ eyes are very striking, too. They are very brilliant, as if they could see into your very soul. And His hands are a healer’s hands, Joseph, very much like your own.”

“Did you see Him perform any feats of healing?” the young physician asked eagerly. “If He is the Messiah, as some claim, He should be able even to raise the dead.”

“As far as I could tell, Jesus claims only to teach the words of the Most High and the coming of the kingdom of God into the hearts and souls of men through repentance and right living. But it is whispered that when He gives the word, thousands of Galileans who believe He is the Messiah will rise against Rome, believing that the Most High will deliver His enemies into their hands.”

“Those are dangerous teachings. Shouldn’t you report them to the Sanhedrin?”

Nicodemus shook his head. “These are the things people say, Joseph, but Jesus teaches nothing of the kind. And I am sure He has given no encouragement to those who claim He is the Messiah.”

“He lives in the territory of Herod Antipas,” Joseph pointed out. “It would seem that Herod would be disturbed about this.”

“He probably is,” Nicodemus admitted. “Caiaphas asked me to investigate Jesus on this trip. I think he suspects Herod of planning to use the Teacher to stir up the people and perhaps start a rebellion. By stopping it there, Herod might convince Tiberius that he should rule all the Jews.”

“What are you going to tell the high priest?”

“Only what I am sure is true,” Nicodemus said. “That Jesus is only a great Teacher, or perhaps even another prophet, unless . . .” He stopped, then went on again, “Unless He is really the Messiah and the Son of God.”

About a week after his conversation with Nicodemus, Joseph came home one evening to find a dusty, sweat-stained mule standing before his house. In the atrium, a tall man in dust-streaked white robes was arguing with Rufus, the freedman.

“Hadja! My old friend!” Joseph embraced the Nabatean musician. “Where have you been?”

“I live in the house of Demetrius at Magdala so as to be near to the Living Flame.”

“But everything she owned went to Gaius Flaccus and Plotinus.”

“The house belonged to Demetrius. It was not listed among her possessions.”

Joseph looked at Hadja’s gaunt frame and the lines of hunger in his face. “Why did you not come to me for help?” he asked. “Do you think I would have let you want so long as I had a crust of bread and a roof over my head?”

Hadja smiled. “We men of the desert are tough. A little hunger will not hurt me. But the Living Flame needs you in Sepphoris, Joseph. She bade me tell you to hurry to her as quickly as you can.”

“Is she ill?” Joseph asked, alarmed at once.

“She told me no more,” Hadja said enigmatically. “But I know it is not for herself that she wants you.”

Joseph wasted no time in questions. Mary had sent from Sepphoris to Jerusalem for him; that was enough. She would never have called for help unless there was a real need.

Travel by night was not advisable on the great caravan routes to the north, for the wild mountain country was frequented by bands of thieves and rebel Galileans. While Joseph and Hadja ate the evening meal, Rufus was sent to purchase two swift camels. Dawn the following morning found them on the great Central Highway that traversed the mountain ranges of Samaria to the northward, past Beeroth, Shechem, and the city of Samaria itself to Engannim, where it joined the Way of the Sea from Joppa to the cities of the Galilean plain.

Late on the second day they came over the summit of a hill and saw the village of Nazareth lying near the top of a precipitous slope a few miles away in the hills of Galilee. Here they paused to let the hard-driven camels regain their wind.

Joseph was tired to the bone, for he was not accustomed to such rapid travel, but he could still enjoy the rugged beauty of this mountainous region between the lake and the sea. Westward, the heights of Mount Carmel showed the location of the seacoast less than fifty Roman miles away, and to the south lay the broad Plain of Esdraelon which they had just crossed. In the east towered Mount Tabor, and far to the north, shining in the afternoon sunlight, was the snowcapped crest of Mount Hermon. The peaceful and yet majestic scene brought to his mind the words of the psalmist:
“The north and the south, thou hast created them; Tabor and Hermon joyously praise thy name.”

“There lies Sepphoris to the north.” Hadja’s voice brought Joseph back to the present. “You can see the theater easily from here.”

Some five miles away a great city stood among the hills. The largest center of Galilee at one time, Sepphoris had been a center of government in the district for centuries. Judas the Gaulonite had captured it during his ill-fated aspiration to messiahship and the resulting revolution. On the hilly slope outside the city two thousand Jews had been nailed to crosses by the Romans in retaliation for the abortive uprising. Sepphoris had also been burned to the ground and its inhabitants sold into slavery, a solemn warning to the Galileans that Rome ruled here and would brook no disloyalty.

Herod Antipas had rebuilt Sepphoris in recent years, however, making it for a while the brightest gem among the cities of the fertile province. Then his desires, ever fickle, had turned to the newer city of Tiberias on the lake shore. Now the palace at Sepphoris was occupied for only a part of the year, but the city was still the headquarters of a large Roman garrison kept always ready in uneasy Galilee.