The Galileans: A Novel of Mary Magdalene (36 page)

As he continued southward along the shore of the lake toward Tarichae, the pungent odor of drying fish soon met his nostrils at the edge of that city. In the great white sheds by the shore, hundreds of women worked, cleaning, splitting, and salting fish by the tons for the markets of the world. The chattering of many feminine tongues gave the city a voice of its own.

On the eastern rim of the cup in which the lake lay, across the sparkling emerald green of the water in the morning sunlight, row upon row of lovely Roman villas lined the steep slope, each with its luxurious courtyard and terraced gardens descending to the water. Boats of all kinds rode at anchor by the landings at the foot of long marble stairways leading from the houses to the level of the lake, and many of the villas were all but hidden by trees and vines growing in riotous profusion along the terraced hillside.

Farther back in the hills was a great Roman camp, housing the garrison over which Gaius Flaccus had been commander, with the tents of the legions arranged in geometrical lines upon the slopes and the white houses of the officers nearer the lake itself. Beyond the Roman camp Joseph could glimpse parts of the Greek cities of Hippos and Gadara in the hills, with their palatial theaters and amphitheaters, their colonnaded forums and wide marketplaces, and the white domes of temples shining in the sunlight. Although a part of the Decapolis, as the ten Greek cities to the east were called, they were closely allied with the towns of Galilee. The Greek influence from this closely-related region had materially affected the lives of the people of that populous province far more than in Judea and Jerusalem, where the Pharisees in particular stubbornly resisted any infiltration of foreign thought and custom.

No wonder those who had lived for even a few days in this earthly paradise loved it ever after, Joseph thought as he sat on his rangy camel in the narrow pass where the Jordan tumbled over the rocks, carrying the waters of the lake onward to the Dead Sea far to the south. No matter how far he traveled, he always looked forward to returning to the Sea of Galilee, which he loved so much, and the thriving, turbulent cities around its shore. Now he was reluctant to urge his camel into the pass that would shut the lake from sight.

More than just a nostalgia for earthly beauty drew him back to the lake, however, for here was a feeling of peace and contentment that he had never known in Jerusalem. And looking back across the years, he could see that for all his riches and his high position he had been happier as a youth, driving his mule up and down the steep roads circling the lake, his bottle of leeches and his
nartik,
filled with bandages, instruments, and medicines, bumping against the patient animal’s flanks.

Joseph was not surprised, a few days after his return to Jerusalem, when he received a call to visit the old high priest Annas in his home near the temple, nor that the indisposition turned out to be a trifling one. Although several of Annas’s sons had occupied the position of high priest since his own retirement and now his son-in-law Caiaphas was in the same position, it was well known in Jerusalem that Annas himself held the reins and the others did his bidding. One son, Jonathan, had been passed over, however, and was known to be constantly plotting with Herod Antipas to make that wily ruler of Galilee king in Jerusalem. Very little happened to Jews, even in Galilee, that was not reported to the old high priest immediately.

Elias, the doctor of laws before whom Joseph had qualified as
rophe uman,
was in Annas’s house with Caiaphas and several others when the young physician arrived. After Joseph had prescribed a soothing mixture for the old man’s cough and closed his
nartik,
Caiaphas cleared his throat portentously. He was a tall, lean man with a harsh cast of countenance and eyes that hardly ever looked directly at the person to whom he was speaking, so that one rarely had an opportunity to divine the thoughts at the back of his cold exterior. “You were recently in Galilee, I believe,” he said to Joseph when the formalities of greeting had been observed.

“I was called to attend the tribune Gaius Flaccus in his last illness.”

“Did you speak with the procurator Pontius Pilate?”

Joseph told of his conversation with Pilate and his mission to Jairus. He could see the interest of his audience quicken, and when he finished, Caiaphas asked, “Do you know positively, then, that the girl was not raised from the dead?”

“I have only the word of Jairus,” Joseph pointed out. “According to him, everybody thought the girl was dead, but when Jesus came He said that she was not.”

“Do you remember the exact words the Nazarene used?” Elias interposed.

“I have them only from Jairus, not from Jesus Himself.”

“Jairus is a good man and a ruler of the synagogue in Capernaum,” Caiaphas said impatiently. “He would have no reason to lie about this.”

“According to Jairus,” Joseph told them, “Jesus came into the house and asked, ‘Why do you make a tumult and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.’ Then He said, ‘Little girl, I say to you arise.’ She got up at once from the bed.”

Caiaphas looked around the small circle of bearded men. “I told you we could not depend upon the reports of the crowd,” he said heavily. “They would make a miracle of anything. Obviously the girl was not dead.”

“Did you see Jesus of Nazareth yourself?” Elias asked.

“Yes. I heard Him teach at Magdala and also in Nazareth—”

“You say you heard Jesus speak?” Caiaphas interrupted. “What did you think of Him?”

“He has a great power over the people. But I heard nothing from His lips that our own prophets and teachers have not taught before.”

“He preaches revolution against Rome and the legal heads of the temple,” Caiaphas snapped.

“I heard no such things,” Joseph insisted.

“How do you explain then that this Nazarene has among His followers a man named Simon the Zealot, who is known to have been a follower of Judas the Gaulonite and the Galilean revolutionaries?” Caiaphas demanded scornfully. “And there is another man named Simon who was a frequent troublemaker when he was a fisherman of Capernaum, along with the sons of Zebedee, James and John. They are called Sons of Thunder by the Galileans for the same reason.”

“I heard some people say Jesus is the Messiah,” Joseph admitted, “but no talk of rebellion.”

“Are you absolutely sure you heard no blasphemy?” Annas asked again.

“None,” Joseph said firmly. “He taught only such things as I have heard spoken before by teachers from the Porch of Solomon here in the temple.”

When Joseph told Nicodemus of his visit to the house of Annas, the lawyer said promptly, “You were before the political Sanhedrin.”

“I think you are right,” Joseph agreed. All Jerusalem knew that there were actually two ruling councils of the Jews, although only one was provided for legally. The Great Sanhedrin was the traditional council called upon to settle religious matters. It could, if it saw fit, impose the legal sentence of death under Jewish law by stoning, subject of course, to the approval of the Roman governor. The other group had no official status but much power. It dealt mainly with matters of state as they concerned the relationship between the priestly hierarchy and the rule of the Romans. Naturally it was composed of Sadducees, from which the priests came.

“Caiaphas dominates the political Sanhedrin completely,” Nicodemus continued. “Even Elias, who is completely honest, believes that peace under Rome and Caiaphas is better than striving for freedom. And of course the merchants, the priests, and the tax gatherers want no change in Judea, so long as Rome leaves them free to enrich themselves.”

“Why do you suppose they are so concerned about the report that Jesus had raised the dead?”

Nicodemus shrugged. “You have studied Greek logic, Joseph. Would a mere man be able to bring the dead back to life?”

“No. Only the power of the Most High could do that.”

“Then if Jesus had the power to control death, it would mean that He is sent from God.”

“And therefore that He is the true Messiah,” Joseph agreed thoughtfully.

Nicodemus nodded. “Caiaphas wants to stay in power, of course, and so he courts the favor of Pontius Pilate. But he would not dare to oppose the true Messiah, who will come from the Most High.”

“The girl may have been in a stupor,” Joseph admitted. “Sometimes they come out of such states for no apparent reason, so the case proves nothing.”

“To you, perhaps not. But Caiaphas does not want to believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ, so he accepted your evidence readily. The high priest can attribute no good motive to the Nazarene because He dares to tell the people the truth about the priests themselves,” Nicodemus continued. “But Caiaphas also knows that the people are following Jesus in great crowds, so he will do nothing himself. I imagine he even hopes that Herod will make another mistake with Jesus, as he did with John the Baptist, for anything Herod does to anger the people also lessens his chances of sitting upon the throne of Judea.”

“Should we not warn Jesus about Simon the Zealot?” Joseph suggested. “He may not realize how dangerous a person like that could be.”

Nicodemus smiled. “Somehow I think the Nazarene already knows what is in the hearts of the men who follow Him, Joseph. On my last visit to Rome I listened to Seneca speak in the Senate. He said something about Diogenes that I have often thought of lately in connection with Jesus:
‘It is worth a kingdom to be, in a world of cheats, murderers, and kidnappers, the only person whom no one can injure.’”

Life in Jerusalem seemed somehow to have lost its zest for Joseph, and so he was not at all unhappy when a message came several weeks later from Tiberias asking that he come at once to attend the Lady Claudia Procula. He kept a swift camel in his stables now against the time when Mary might need him, and so he accomplished the journey to Galilee in little more than half the time it would have taken by mule. Although still confined to her bedchamber from a severe attack of asthma followed by a mild lung congestion, Pilate’s lady was quite out of danger when he arrived, but he had no difficulty in persuading himself that he should stay in Galilee for a few days to be sure his patient suffered no relapse.

Pontius Pilate was in an evil temper when the young physician saw him that evening. The procurator was having trouble again with his gouty toe, and while Joseph superintended the application of leeches to it, Pilate fumed against Herod Antipas and the Galileans, and against Jesus of Nazareth in particular for stirring up the excitable people of the lake region. “I would put the
sicarii
upon the Nazarene myself,” he stormed, “but then Herod would send word to Rome that I was interfering in his kingdom. Nothing would fit in better with his plans to sit on the throne of Judea himself, with Jonathan as high priest, than to influence the emperor against me.”

“Then you know?” Joseph asked, startled.

“Roman gold can always buy spies.” Pilate smiled grimly. “I even know that you appeared before the high priest, Joseph, and tried to convince him that Jesus intends no revolt.”

“But I am certain that He does not.”

“Good men like you are easily deceived,” Pilate said, not unkindly. “How do you explain the presence of men like Simon the Zealot and Judas Iscariot among Jesus’ disciples? Judas even controls the moneybags, the most important part of any revolt.”

This was exactly the argument Caiaphas had used in Jerusalem, Joseph remembered. And Pilate had known in detail of his interview before the political Sanhedrin, which meant that the relationship between Pilate and the high priest was as close as it was generally believed to be. “Why doesn’t Herod arrest Jesus then?” he asked.

“The noble Antipas is suffering the pangs of conscience,” Pilate said contemptuously. “They even tell me he thinks he hears in Jesus the spirit of John the Baptist come back to haunt him. What he really wants is for the Nazarene to go to Jerusalem. Then it will be Pontius Pilate who must deal with Him. But I have handled Galileans before,” he added sharply. “Once I even had to cut down a gang of rebels on the very steps of the temple.”

“I heard of it,” Joseph admitted as he removed a fat leech and applied a lean one. The occurrence had taken place before he had come to Jerusalem to live. It was but another in the long list of reasons why the Jews hated Pontius Pilate.

“If you would save your Galilean friends from a similar fate,” Pilate warned, “you had better remind them of what happened to the others. They will be treated differently in Jerusalem if they ever make the mistake of trying to stir up the people there.”

Early the next morning Joseph set out for Magdala to see Mary, but the house was empty and the door barred. From a neighbor he learned that neither Mary nor Hadja had been in Magdala for more than a week.

“Mary of Magdala follows Jesus,” the neighbor volunteered. “And He teaches His disciples to take no thought for where they will eat or sleep. But they manage to eat,” he continued. “Just last week the Nazarene and His disciples fed more than five thousand people with a few loaves and fishes.”

“More than five thousand!” Joseph was startled. Crowds of that size were almost unheard of, even in this populous region. “Did you see this miracle yourself?” he asked.

“Not with my own eyes,” his informant admitted. “But it was told to me by one who heard it from lips that tasted the bread and the fish. They say all were satisfied and afterward twelve baskets of broken pieces of bread and fish were gathered up for the poor. Since then His followers have taken to calling themselves the Company of the Fish.”

“It was indeed a miracle,” Joseph admitted, “if it happened as you were told.”

“Every day more and more people tell in the marketplace of the wonderful things the Nazarene does.” The man lowered his voice, as if to tell a secret. “Many say He is the Messiah and that, when the time comes, people will rise up everywhere and proclaim Him king.”

He must find Mary soon, Joseph realized, and warn her of what people were saying about Jesus. Talk like this would convince Pilate and Herod even more strongly that the Nazarene was indeed stirring up the people to revolution.