The Last Temptation of Christ (49 page)

“All right, all right,” said Philip, “we’ll both make ourselves scarce in that case. Do you think I’ve gone completely mad? ... Agreed? Let’s go!”

“Well, then—in God’s name!” He locked the door, put the key under his shirt, and the two of them departed arm in arm for Zebedee’s house.

Jesus and the disciples sat warming themselves in front of the lighted fire while old Salome went in and out, overjoyed. All her illnesses had disappeared. She went in and out, setting the table, and her pride in her sons and in serving the holy man who would bring the kingdom of heaven was insatiable. John leaned over and whispered into his mother’s ear. By glancing at the disciples he made her notice how they shivered, still dressed as they were in summer linens. The mother smiled, went inside, opened her trunks and took out woolen clothes. Then, quickly-before her husband’s return-she divided them up among the companions. The thickest robe, one of brilliantly white wool, she threw tenderly over Jesus’ shoulders.

He turned and smiled at her. “Bless you, Mother Salome,” he said. “It is right and just that you should care for the body. The body is the camel on which the soul mounts in order to traverse the desert. Care for it, therefore, so that it will be able to endure.”

Old Zebedee entered and looked at the unexpected visitors. He greeted them halfheartedly, then sat down in a corner. These robbers (that is what he called them) did not please him at all. Who invited them to come and take over his home? And his lavish wife had already laid them out a magnificent feast! Curse the day this new fanatic sprouted up. It wasn’t bad enough that he had stolen both his sons! No, besides that there were the arguments all day long with his idiotic wife, who took the two boys’ part. They had acted well, she said. This man was a true prophet: he would become king, throw out the Romans and sit on Israel’s throne. Then John would be enthroned to his right, Jacob to his left—great lords, not fishermen in rowboats, but great important lords! Why, do you think they should rot away their entire lives here on the water? Day and night Zebedee was nagged with this—and more—by the old idiot, who would bang her foot on the floor and shout. Sometimes he cursed and smashed whatever happened to be in front of him; sometimes he gave up in despair and went off to roam the edge of the lake like a madman. In the end he had taken to drink. And now—what next!—all these lawbreakers had moved into his house: nine immense mouths; and they had with them that whore a thousand times kissed, that Magdalene. They sat themselves down in a circle around the table and did not even turn to look at him—him, the master of the house—nor even ask his permission. So that’s what we’ve come to! Was it for these parasites that he and his ancestors had slaved for so many years? He flew into a rage and, jumping up, shouted, “Just a minute, my good men—whose house is this, yours or mine? Two and two make four. Will you tell me, please!”

“It’s God’s,” answered Peter, who had downed quite a few drinks and was in a merry mood. “God’s, Zebedee. Haven’t you heard the news? Nothing any more is yours or mine; everything is God’s.”

“The law of Moses—” Zebedee began, but Peter interrupted him before he could work up steam.

“What do I hear—the law of Moses? That’s done with, Zebedee, finished, gone for a nice long walk and never coming back. Now we have the Law of the Son of man. Understand? We’re all brothers! Our hearts have broadened, and with our hearts the law has also broadened. It now embraces the whole of mankind. The entire world is the Promised Land. The frontiers are gone! I, the very man you see before you, Zebedee, shall go proclaim the word of God to the nations. I’ll get clear to Rome—yes, don’t laugh—and I’ll grab the emperor by his Adam’s apple, knock him down and sit myself on the throne. And why not! As the master said, we’re no longer your kind of fishermen. We don’t catch fish; we’re fishers of men. And a word to the wise: flatter us, bring us plenty of wine and food, because one day—and quickly too—we’ll be great lords. You give us one dry piece of bread, and we’ll repay you with a whole ovenful in a few days. And what loaves! Immortal! You’ll eat and eat, and they’ll never be consumed.”

“Poor fellow, I already see you crucified upside down,” growled Zebedee, who had slunk away again to his corner. Listening to Peter’s words, he had gradually begun to feel afraid. I’d better keep my mouth shut, he thought. You never know what will happen. The world is a sphere, and turns. It’s just possible that one day these madmen ... Let’s play safe, then, whatever happens!

The disciples laughed in their beards. They knew perfectly well that Peter was in a merry mood and joking; but inside themselves—though they still were not drunk enough to speak out—they secretly spun the same thoughts. Impressiveness, rank, clothes of silk, golden rings, abundant food—and to feel the world under the Jewish heel: that was the kingdom of heaven.

Old Zebedee took another drink and mustered up courage. “And you, teacher,” he said, “aren’t you going to open your mouth? You started all this, and now you sit back as cool as a cucumber while we others sweat it out. ... Look here, can you tell me in the name of your God why I should see my goods scattered and not scream about it?

“Zebedee,” Jesus answered, “there was once a very rich man who reaped, vintaged, gathered in the olives, stuffed his jugs, ate, filled himself and then lay down on his back in his yard. ‘My soul,’ he said, ‘you have many belongings. Eat, drink and be merry!’ But as he said this a voice was heard from the sky: ‘Fool, fool—this night you shall surrender your soul to hell. What will you do with all the goods you have amassed?’ Zebedee, you have ears, you hear what I say to you; you have a mind, you understand what I mean. May this voice of heaven be above you, Zebedee, night and day!”

The old proprietor lowered his head and did not speak again.

Just then the door opened and Philip appeared on the threshold. Behind him was an immense gawky bean stalk, Nathanael. His heart no longer chimed two bells at once: he had made his decision. He approached Jesus, stooped and kissed his feet.

“My master,” he said, “I am with you to the death.”

Jesus placed his hand on the curly buffalo-like head. “Welcome, Nathanael. You make sandals for everyone else and go barefoot yourself. That pleases me very much. Come with me!” He seated him at his right and handed him a slice of bread and a cup of wine. “To become mine,” he said, “eat this mouthful of bread and drink this cup of wine.”

Nathanael ate the bread, drank the wine and all at once felt strength flow into his bones and soul. The wine rose like the sun and vermeiled his mind. Wine, bread and soul became one.

He was sitting on hot coals. He wanted to speak but was too bashful.

“Speak, Nathanael,” the master said to him. “Open your heart and relieve yourself.”

“Rabbi,” he replied, “I want you to know that I’ve always been poor. I’ve lived and eaten from day to day and have never had time to study the Law. I’m blind, Rabbi. Forgive me. ... That’s what I want you to know. I’ve had my say and I feel better.”

Jesus caressingly touched the newly enlightened man’s broad shoulders. “Don’t sigh, Nathanael,” he said, laughing. “Two paths lead to God’s bosom. One is the path of the mind, the other the path of the heart. Listen to the story I shall tell you:

“A poor man, a rich man and a rake died on the same day and appeared before God’s tribunal at the same hour. None of them had ever studied the Law. God frowned and asked the poor man, Why didn’t you study the Law while you were alive?’

“ ‘Lord,’ he answered, ‘I was poor and hungry. I slaved day and night to feed my wife and children. I didn’t have time.’

“ ‘Were you poorer than my faithful servant Hillel?’ God asked angrily. ‘He had no money to pay to enter the synagogue and hear the Law being explained, so he climbed onto the roof, stretched himself out and listened through the skylight. But it snowed and he was so absorbed in what he heard that he did not realize it. In the morning when the rabbi entered the synagogue he saw that it was dark. Raising his eyes, he discovered a man’s body over the skylight. He mounted to the roof, dug away the snow and exhumed Hillel. He took him in his arms, carried him down, lighted a fire and brought him back to life. Then he gave him permission to enter and listen after that without paying, and Hillel became the famous rabbi whom the whole world has heard of. ... What do you have to say to that?’

“ ‘Nothing, Lord,’ murmured the poor man, and he began to weep.

“God turned to the rich man. ‘And you, why didn’t you study the Law while you were alive?’

“ ‘I was too rich. I had many orchards, many slaves, many cares. How could I manage?’

“ ‘Were you richer,’ God snapped, ‘than Harsom’s son Eleazar, who inherited a thousand villages and a thousand ships? But he abandoned them all when he learned the whereabouts of a sage who was explaining the Law. What do you have to say for yourself?’

“ ‘Nothing, Lord,’ the rich man murmured in his turn, and he too began to weep.

“God then turned to the rake. ‘And you, my beauty, why didn’t you study the Law?’

“ ‘I was exceedingly handsome and many women threw themselves at me. With all the amusement I had, where could I find time to look at the Law?’

“ ‘Were you handsomer than Joseph, who was loved by the wife of Putiphar? He was so beautiful that he said to the sun, “Shine, sun, so that I may shine.” When he unfolded the Law the letters opened up like doors and the meaning came out dressed in light and flames. What do you have to say?’

“ ‘Nothing, Lord,’ murmured the rake, and he too began to weep.

“God clapped his hands and called Hillel, Eleazar and Joseph out from Paradise. When they had come, he said, ‘Judge these men who because of poverty, wealth and beauty did not study the Law. Speak, Hillel. Judge the poor one!’

“ ‘Lord,’ answered Hillel, ‘how can I condemn him? I know what poverty means, I know what hunger means. He should be pardoned!’

“ ‘And you, Eleazar?’ said God. ‘There is the rich one. I hand him over to you!’

“ ‘Lord,’ replied Eleazar, ‘how can I condemn him? I know what it is to be rich—death! He should be pardoned!’

“ ‘And you, Joseph? It’s your turn. There is the handsome one!’

“ ‘Lord, how can I condemn him? I know what a struggle it is, what a terrible martyrdom, to conquer the body’s loveliness. He should be pardoned!’ ”

Jesus paused, smiled, and looked at Nathanael. But the cobbler felt uneasy.

“Well, what did God do next?” he asked.

“Just what you would have done,” Jesus answered with a laugh.

The simple cobbler laughed too. “That means I’m saved!” He seized both of the master’s hands and squeezed them hard. “Rabbi,” he shouted, “I understand. You said there were two paths leading to God’s bosom, the path of the mind and the path of the heart. I took the path of the heart and found you!”

Rising, Jesus went to the door. A strong wind had come up and the lake was billowing. The stars in the heavens were innumerable fine grains of sand. He recalled the desert, shuddered, and closed the door. “Night is a great gift from God,” he said. “It is the mother of man and comes quietly and tenderly to cover him. It rests its cool hand on his forehead and effaces the day’s cares from his body and soul. Brothers, it is time to surrender ourselves to night’s embrace.”

Old Salome heard him and rose. Magdalene also got up from the corner by the fire where, bowed over, she had been happily listening to the Beloved’s voice. The two women laid out the mats and brought covers. Jacob went to the yard, carried in an armful of olive logs and heaped them on the fire. Jesus, standing erect in the middle of the house with his face turned toward Jerusalem, lifted his hands and in a deep voice pronounced the evening prayer: “Open your doors to us, O Lord. The day goes down; the sun falls, the sun disappears. Eternal, we come to your doors. We implore you: Pardon us. We implore you: Have mercy upon us. Save us!”

“And send us good dreams, Lord,” Peter added. “In my sleep, Lord, let me see my aged green boat all new and with a red sail!” He had drunk much and was in a jolly mood.

Jesus lay down in the center, surrounded by the disciples. They occupied the entire length and breadth of the house. Zebedee and his wife, finding no room, went to an outbuilding; and with them went Magdalene. The old man grumbled. He was deprived of his comforts. Turning in a rage to his wife, he said in a loud voice, so that Magdalene would hear, “What next! Thrown out of my own house by a pack of foreigners. Look what we’re reduced to!”

But the old lady turned to the wall and did not answer him.

This night Matthew again remained awake. He squatted under the lamp, removed the partly filled notebook from under his shirt and began to compose—how Jesus entered Capernaum, how Magdalene joined them, and the parable told by the master: There was once a very rich man. ... When he finished writing he blew out the lamp and then he too went to bed, but a little to one side, because the disciples still had not become accustomed to his breath.

No sooner had Peter closed his eyes than he fell asleep. Straightway an angel came down from heaven, quietly opened his temples and entered him in the form of a dream. A great crowd seemed to be assembled on the shore of the lake. The teacher stood there too, admiring a brand-new boat, green with a red sail, which was drifting in the water. On the rear part of her prow gleamed a great painted fish, identical with the fish that was tattooed on Peter’s chest. “Who does that beautiful boat belong to?” Jesus asked. “It’s mine,” Peter proudly replied. “Go, Peter, take the rest of the companions and sail out to the middle so that I can admire your courage!”

“With pleasure, Rabbi,” said Peter. He detached the cable. The rest of the companions jumped in. A favorable wind blew over the stern, the sail swelled out and they reached the open sea singing.

But suddenly a whirlwind arose. The boat twirled around, her creaking hull ready to crack. She started to ship water and sink. The disciples, fallen face-down on the deck, raised a great lament. Peter seized hold of the mast and shouted, “Rabbi, Rabbi, help!” and lo! there in the thick darkness he perceived the white-clad rabbi walking toward them over the waters. The disciples lifted their heads and saw him. “A ghost! A ghost!” they cried out, trembling.