The Gospel According to Jesus Christ (Harvest in Translation) (6 page)

The silence that followed the murmurings and whisperings of travelers settling down for the night was broken now and then by muffled conversations in the caravansary, by
a shrill cry, the panting and snorting of animals, and the occasional awful bellow of a camel in heat. Then the party from Nazareth, all discord forgotten, could be heard muttering in unison the last and longest of the prayers of thanksgiving offered to the Lord at the end of the day, Praise be to You, O God, King of the Universe, who shuts our eyes without robbing them of light. Grant, O Lord, that we may sleep in peace and awaken tomorrow to a happy and tranquil life, help us to obey Your commandments. Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil. Lead us along the path of virtue and protect us from bad dreams, wicked thoughts, and mortal sickness. Spare us visions of death. Within minutes, the more just if not the more weary members of the party were fast asleep, some of them snoring unspiritually. And soon the others joined them, most with nothing more than their tunics to cover them, for only the elderly and the very young, both delicate in their own way, enjoyed the warmth and protection of a coarse blanket or threadbare mantle. Deprived of wood, the fire began to die, only a few weak flames continuing to flicker. Under the archway, the party from Nazareth slept soundly. Everyone except Mary. Unable to stretch out because of her belly, which could have been harboring a giant, she lay against some saddlebags in an effort to rest her aching back. Like the others, she had listened to Joseph arguing with old Simeon, and rejoiced in her husband's victory, as befits any wife no matter how harmless or unimportant the conflict. But she could no longer remember what the argument was about, her recollection of it already submerged in the throbbing of her body, which came and went like the tide of the sea, which she had never seen but had heard others describe, the restless ebb and flow as her child stirred in her womb. The strangest sensation, as if that living creature inside her were trying to hoist her onto its shoulders. Only Mary lay with her eyes open, shining in the shadows, still shining after
the last flame had died away. No cause for wonder, for this happens to all mothers, and the wife of the carpenter Joseph was no exception, after the angel appeared to her disguised as a beggar.

Even in the caravansary there were cocks to greet the morning, but the travelers, merchants, drovers, and cameleers had to make an early start and begin preparing, before dawn, for the next leg of their journey. They loaded the animals with baggage and merchandise and made even more noise than on the previous evening. Once they have departed, the caravansary will settle down to a few hours of peace and quiet, like a brown lizard stretched out in the sun. The only remaining guests are those who have decided to rest all day, but by evening another group of travelers will start arriving, some more bedraggled than others but all of them weary, not that this has any effect on their vocal cords, because the moment they arrive, they start shouting their heads off as if possessed by a thousand demons. Back on the road, the party from Nazareth has grown bigger, ten people have joined them, so anyone who imagines this place to be deserted is much mistaken, especially when the feast of Passover and the census coincide.

No one needed to tell Joseph to make his peace with old Simeon, not because he was in the wrong but because he had been taught to respect his elders, especially those who were paying the price for long life by losing both their brains and their influence over a younger generation. So Joseph went up to him and said, I've come to apologize for my insolence last night, I didn't mean to be disrespectful but you know what human nature is, one word leads to another, tempers are lost, and caution is thrown to the winds. Without raising his eyes, Simeon heard him out in silence, then finally spoke, You are forgiven. Hoping his friendly overture would win more from the stubborn old man, Joseph remained at his side for a fair stretch of the road. But Simeon, eyes fixed on the dust at his feet,
continued to ignore him, until Joseph in exasperation decided to give up. At that very moment, seemingly roused from his thoughts, the old man placed a hand on Joseph's shoulder and said, Wait. Surprised, Joseph turned, and Simeon stopped and repeated, Wait. The others walked on, leaving the two men standing in the middle of the road, a no-man's-land between the group of men ahead and the group of women behind, which was gradually approaching. Above the women's heads, Mary could be seen swaying with the rhythm of the donkey.

They had left the valley of Isreel. Skirting great rocks, the road curved awkwardly up the first slope before penetrating the mountains of Samaria to the east, then along arid ridges before descending on the other side to the Jordan, where the burning plain stretched southward and the desert of Judaea fired and scorched the ancient scars of a land promised to the chosen few but forever uncertain to whom it should surrender. Wait, said Simeon, and the carpenter obeyed, suddenly uneasy. The women were drawing nearer. Then the old man clutched Joseph by the sleeve, and he confided, When I lay down to rest last night I had a vision. A vision. Yes, a vision, but no ordinary vision, for I could see the hidden meaning of words you yourself spoke, that if your child was still not born by the last day of the census, it would be because the Lord did not wish the Romans to learn of its existence and add its name to their list. Yes, that is what I said, but what did you see. I didn't see anything but suddenly felt that it would be better if the Romans did not learn of your child's existence, that no one should be told of it, and that if the child must be born into this world, at least let it live without torment or glory, like those men up there in front and those women bringing up the rear, let it be as anonymous as the rest of us until the hour of death and forever after. Humble carpenter as I am from Nazareth, what fate could my child possibly hope for other than the one you have just described. Alas, you are not the only one to dispose of your child's life. True, everything is in the hands of the Lord and He knows best. And so say I. But tell me about my child, what have you discovered. Nothing beyond the words you yourself uttered and which took on for me another meaning, as if on seeing an egg I could sense the chick inside. God wills what He creates and has created what He willed, my child is in His hands and there is nothing I can do. That is indeed true, but these are days when God still shares the child with its mother. But should it turn out to be a son, it will belong to me and to God. Or to God alone. All of us belong to God. Not quite all of us, some are divided between God and Satan. How can one tell. If the law had not silenced women forever, perhaps they could reveal what we need to know, for it was woman who invented the first sin from which all the rest came. What do we need to know. Which part of woman's nature is demonic and which divine and what kind of humanity they have. I don't understand, I thought you were referring to my child. No, I was not referring to your child, I was talking about women, who generate beings such as ourselves and who may be responsible, perhaps unknowingly, for this duality in our nature, which is base and yet so noble, virtuous and yet so wicked, tranquil and yet so troubled, meek and yet so rebellious.

Joseph looked back. Mary was advancing on her donkey, a young boy in front of her and astride the saddle like a grown-up, and for a second Joseph thought he was seeing his own son and seeing Mary for the first time, at the head of this group of women. Simeon's strange words still filled his ears, but he found it hard to believe that any woman could wield so much power, especially this unassuming wife of his, who had never shown any sign of being different from other women. Turning to look at the road ahead, he suddenly remembered the episode of the beggar and the luminous earth. He began to tremble, his hair stood
on end, he got goose flesh, and when he turned back to take another look at Mary, he saw, saw clearly, a tall stranger walking by her side, so tall that the man was head and shoulders above the women, this had to be the beggar whom he had missed seeing last time. Joseph looked again, and there he was, a sinister presence among those women that defied explanation. Joseph was about to ask Simeon to look, to make sure he was not imagining things, but the old man had moved on, having spoken his mind, and was now rejoining his companions to resume his position as head of his clan, a role he cannot hope to play much longer. Deprived of a witness, the carpenter looked again in his wife's direction. This time the beggar was gone.

H
EADING SOUTH, THEY CROSSED THE WHOLE OF
S
AMARIA
at great speed, with one eye on the road and the other nervously scanning their surroundings. They expected some act of hostility, of hatred, from the people living in these parts, descendants of the ancient Assyrians, renowned for their wicked deeds and heretical beliefs, who settled here during the reign of Shalmaneser, king of Nineveh, after the expulsion and dispersion of the twelve tribes. More pagan than Jewish, these people barely acknowledge the five books of Moses as sacred law, and they dare to suggest that the place chosen by God for His temple was not Jerusalem but Mount Gerizim, which lies within their domain. The expedition from Galilee traveled at a brisk pace but could not avoid spending two nights in the open in this enemy territory, with guards and patrols for fear of ambush. The treachery of the villains knew no bounds, and they were capable of refusing water even to someone of pure Hebrew stock who might be dying of thirst. Such was the anxiety of the travelers during this stretch of the journey that, contrary to custom, the men divided into two groups, one in front of the women and children and one behind, to protect them from taunts and insults, or worse. The inhabitants of Samaria, however, must have been going through a peaceful phase, because apart from resentful looks and snide remarks the party from Galilee met with no aggression, no gang of robbers descended from the nearby hills and attacked them with stones.

Shortly before reaching Ramah, those who believed with greatest fervor or who possessed a keener sense of smell swore they were inhaling the sanctified odor of Jerusalem. Here old Simeon and his companions went their separate way, for, as we mentioned earlier, they had to register in a village in this region. Giving profuse thanks to God there in the middle of the road, the travelers made their farewells. The married women filled Mary's head with a thousand and one pieces of advice, the fruits of their experience. Then they parted, some descending into the valley, where they would soon rest after four days on foot, the others making for Ramah, where they would seek shelter in a caravansary, for it would soon be dusk. At Jerusalem, the group that set out from Nazareth will also separate, most of them heading for Beersheba, which they should reach in two days, while the carpenter and his wife will go to nearby Bethlehem. Amid the confusion of embraces and farewells, Joseph called Simeon aside and, with all humility, asked him if he could remember anything more about his vision. I've already told you, it wasn't a vision. Whatever it was, I must know the destiny that awaits my child. If you don't even know your own destiny as you stand here before me asking questions, how can you expect to know the destiny of an unborn child. The eyes of the soul see further, and since yours have been opened by the Lord to certain manifestations reserved for the chosen, I thought you might have seen something where I see only darkness. You may never live to learn your son's destiny, you may, who knows, meet your own fate very shortly, but no more
questions, please, stop all this probing and live for the present. And with these words Simeon placed his right hand on Joseph's head, murmured a blessing no one could hear, and rejoined his relatives and friends, who were waiting for him. In single file they made their way down a winding path to the valley, where Simeon's village nestled at the foot of the opposite slope, the houses almost merging with the boulders that stuck out of the ground like bones. Much later, Joseph would learn that the old man died before he could register.

After spending two nights under the stars, exposed to the cold on the barren plain, with no camp fire, for that might betray their presence, the expedition from Nazareth decided to take refuge once more under the archways of a caravansary. The women helped Mary dismount from the donkey, reassuring her, Come, it'll soon be over, and the poor girl whispered back, I know, I can't have long to wait now, and what clearer proof than that great swollen belly. They made her as comfortable as possible in a quiet corner and set about preparing supper, for it was growing late and the travelers planned to eat together. That night there was no conversation, no prayers or stories around the fire, as if the proximity of Jerusalem demanded respectful silence, each man searching his heart and asking, Who is this person who resembles me yet whom I fail to recognize. This is not what they actually said, for people do not start talking to themselves like that, nor was this even in their conscious thoughts, but there can be no doubt that as we sit staring into the flames of a camp fire, our silence can be expressed only with words like these, which say everything. From where he sat, Joseph could see Mary in profile against the light of the fire. Its reddish reflection softly lit one side of her face, tracing her features in chiaroscuro, and he began to realize, with surprise, that Mary was an attractive woman, if one could say this of a person with such a childlike expression. Of course her body was
swollen
now, yet he could see the agile, graceful figure she would soon regain once their child was born. Without warning, as if his flesh was rebelling after all these months of enforced chastity, a wave of desire surged through his blood and left him dizzy. Mary called out in pain, but he did not go to her assistance. As if someone had doused him with cold water, the sudden memory of the man who two days ago had walked beside his wife dampened Joseph's ardor. The image of that beggar had been haunting both of them ever since Mary discovered she was pregnant, for Joseph did not doubt that the stranger had been in her thoughts throughout the nine months. He could not bring himself to ask his wife what kind of man he was or where he went when he suddenly left. The last thing he wanted was to hear her say in bewilderment, A man, what man. And were Joseph to insist, no doubt Mary would ask the other women to testify, Did any of you see a man in our group, and they would deny seeing him and shake their heads at any such suggestion, and one of them might even answer in jest, Any man who hangs around women all the time is after only one thing. But Joseph would not believe Mary's surprise and that she had not seen the beggar, whether it was man or ghost. I saw him with my own eyes as he walked beside you, he would insist, but Mary, not faltering, would say, As is written in holy law, a wife must obey her husband, so if you insist you saw a beggar walking beside me, I will not contradict you, but believe me I didn't see him. It was the same beggar. But how can you tell, if you didn't see him the first time he appeared. It could only have been him. Much more likely to have been some traveler who was walking so slowly that we all overtook him, first the men, then the women, and he was probably alongside our group when you chanced to look back. Ah, so you admit he was there. Not at all, I'm simply trying as a dutiful wife to find some explanation that will satisfy you. Drowsy, Joseph watches Mary through
half-closed eyes in the hope that he will find the truth in her face, but her face is now cast in shadow like the waning moon, her profile a vague outline in the light of the dying embers. Joseph nods, overcome by the effort of trying to understand, taking with him, as he falls asleep, the absurd idea that the beggar might be the image of his own son emerging from the future to tell him, This is what I'll look like one day, but you won't live to see it. Joseph slept with a resigned smile on his lips, a sad smile. He thought he heard Mary saying, God forbid that this beggar has nowhere to rest his head. For verily I say unto you that many things in this world could be known before it is too late, if husbands and wives would only confide in each other as husbands and wives.