The Expected One

by Kathleen McGowan

  “How can you do this to me?” Mary wailed at him. “These are my oldest friends — and some of them are your oldest friends as well. The fishermen Peter and Andrew, who played with us on the steps of Capernaeum and the shores of Galilee. How can you refuse them hospitality?”

  The strain of the decision showed on the face of Mary’s brother. To turn away his childhood friends, as well as Easa and the Great Mary, who were both revered children of David, was an excruciating decision. But Lazarus had orders from the high priest not to admit the Nazarene faction as they passed through on their way from Jerusalem. Further, his sister’s husband had given explicit instructions that she was not to be in the presence of Nazarene teachings. Lazarus had taken a vow to keep Mary pious within the boundaries laid out by her husband.

  “I do this for your benefit, sister.”

  “Just as you married me to the Baptizer for my own benefit?” Mary did not wait for his answer or to see the shock on his face. She stormed through the house and into the garden, where she allowed herself to cry.

  “He really does want what is best for you.”

  Mary hadn’t heard Martha follow her; she had been too immersed in her misery to pay attention. And as much as she loved Martha, she did not want to hear further lectures on obedience. Mary began to speak, but Martha cut her off.

  “I am not here to chastise you. I’m here to help you.”

  Mary looked at Martha carefully. She had never known her brother’s wife to go against his wishes or oppose him in any way. Yet there was a quiet strength that ran through Martha, and Mary saw that look of strength on her sister-in-law’s face at that moment.

  “Mary, you are like my own sister, in some ways like my own child. I cannot bear to see the pain you have suffered in this passing year. And I am proud of you, as is your brother. I know he doesn’t tell you that, but he tells me all the time. You did your duty as a noble daughter of Israel, and all of it with your head held high.”

  Mary wiped the tears away as Martha continued. “Lazarus is leaving for Jerusalem on business. He will not be back until late tomorrow night. The Nazarenes will be here in Bethany, meeting at the house of Simon.”

  Mary’s eyes grew huge as she listened. Was this really obedient, pious Martha, laying out a plan for subterfuge? “Simon? You mean in that house?”

  Mary pointed to the house in question, which was easily visible from their own estate. Martha nodded.

  “If you are very careful and entirely discreet, I will look in the other direction if you choose to visit your oldest friends.”

  Mary threw her arms around Martha and squealed, “I love you!”

  “Shh!” Martha broke away from Mary’s grip, looking around to be sure they had not been observed. “If Lazarus comes to see you before he leaves for Jerusalem, you must be furious with him. He can suspect nothing or we are both in terrible trouble.”

  Mary nodded solemnly at Martha, trying hard not to smile. Martha scurried back into the house to see Lazarus off, leaving Mary dancing beneath the olive trees.

  Mary approached the house of Simon from a side entrance, covering her recognizable copper hair with one of her heavier veils as she walked. She gave the word of admittance and was allowed inside immediately, where she was delighted to see a number of familiar faces. She looked quickly around the room but did not yet see the most important and beloved faces, as Easa had not arrived with his mother. She had little time to think about this as she was startled from behind by a young woman’s voice shouting her name.

  Mary turned to see the exquisite smile of Salome, the daughter of Herodias and stepdaughter to the tetrarch of Galilee, Herod. Mary squealed in recognition, as they had trained together at the feet of the Great Mary. They embraced happily and with warmth.

  “What are you doing this far from home?” Mary asked her.

  “My mother has given me permission to follow Easa and continue my training so that I might take the seven veils.” The seven veils were worn only by women who had been initiated as high priestesses. “Herod Antipas gives my mother whatever she desires, and besides, he is sympathetic to the Nazarenes. It is only the Baptizer he detests.”

  Salome covered her mouth immediately as the words slipped out. She appeared mortified. “I’m sorry. I forget.”

  Mary smiled at her sadly. “No, Salome, do not apologize. Sometimes I forget myself.”

  Salome looked immensely sympathetic. “Is it horrible for you?”

  Mary shook her head. She loved Salome like a sister, and indeed they referred to each other by that title, which was traditional for Nazarene priestesses. But Mary was still a princess and schooled to behave as one. She would not speak ill of her husband no matter what the company. “No, it’s not horrible. I rarely see John.”

  Salome rushed through her words as if she felt the need to make further amends for her gaffe. “I hope I didn’t offend you, sister. It’s just that the Baptizer says terrible things about my mother. He calls her a whore and an adulteress.”

  Mary nodded. She had heard all of these things. Salome’s mother, Herodias, was the granddaughter of Herod the Great and had inherited some of the infamous king’s headstrong traits. She put aside her first husband to marry Herod Antipas, who ruled Galilee, and the tetrarch had taken similar action by divorcing his Arabian wife to marry Herodias. John had been outraged that a Jewish monarch would show such blatant disregard for the law and had openly denounced the marriage of Herod Antipas to Herodias as adultery. Thus far, Herod had expressed annoyance but showed little interest in taking real action against John for his condemnation. As tetrarch of Galilee he had enough to do with juggling the whims of a Caesar and the demands of this difficult outpost; he didn’t need the added headache of an abrasive ascetic prophet.

  The fact that Herodias was a Nazarene certainly didn’t help her case with John, nor did it improve John’s opinion of Nazarene culture. It further proved why women should never be allowed positions of authority or even social freedoms; clearly, it turned them into wantons. John often used Herod and Herodias as examples of Nazarene corruption.

  But while the Baptizer made enemies of the tetrarch, Easa was much admired by Herod’s wife. Herodias had sent her only daughter to begin training in The Way when she came of age. Salome and Mary had become very close during their time together in Galilee, further bonded in their spiritual love for the Great Mary and her son.

  “Our sister Veronica is here,” Salome said, anxious to change the subject. Simon’s niece, Veronica, was a lovely and deeply spiritual young woman who had trained with them at the home of Easa’s mother. Mary loved Veronica and looked around for the face of her cherished friend.

  “There she is!” Salome grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her across the room to a now-beaming Veronica. The three women, sisters in the Nazarene creed, embraced warmly. But they had little further opportunity for discussion as Easa entered the room.

  He was followed by his mother and two younger brothers, James and Jude, as well as the fishermen brothers from Galilee and a dourlooking man who Mary believed to be called Philip. Easa greeted everyone in the room but stopped in front of Mary. He embraced her warmly, but with the propriety and respect due to a noblewoman who was another man’s wife. He gave her a long look to indicate his surprise that she had disobeyed her brother, but said nothing.

  Mary smiled up at him and put her hand over her heart. “The Kingdom of God is in my heart, and no oppressor can take it from me.”

  Easa returned the smile, an expression of utmost warmth, then moved to the front of the room and began to teach.

  It was a beautiful night, filled with the love of friends and the word of The Way. Mary had almost forgotten how important the Word had become to her and what an inspirational teacher Easa was. But to sit at his feet and listen to his preaching was to experience the Kingdom of God here on earth. She could not imagine how anyone could condemn such beautiful words, or why someone would willfully deny those teachings of love, compassion, and
charity.

  As Easa rose to take his leave, he walked toward Mary and touched her gently on the belly.

  “You are with child, little dove.”

  Mary gasped. John had stayed for a night to fulfill his duties within the last season, but she had no idea that she had conceived. “You are sure?”

  Easa nodded. “A male child grows in your womb. Keep well, little one. For I would see you deliver in safety.”

  A shadow crossed his face for the briefest moment. “Tell your brother that you must spend your confinement in Galilee. Ask that he allow you to leave in the morning at first light.”

  Mary was puzzled by this. Bethany was close to Jerusalem, and the finest midwives and medicine were at hand if there were any complications. It made sense for her to stay here, and Lazarus wouldn’t be back for another full day. But Easa had seen something in that moment of shadow, something that bade him urge her to leave Bethany for the shores of Galilee immediately.

  What Mary could not know was that in a clear moment of prophecy, Easa had seen the need to get her as far away from John as possible.

  “Whore!” John screamed as he slapped Mary again and again. “I knew it was too late for you and your wanton Nazarene ways. How dare you disobey your husband and your brother!”

  Martha and Lazarus were at the far side of the Bethany house, but they could hear the violence unfolding. Martha cried softly from her place on the bed as she listened to the blows fall on Mary’s tiny frame. This was her fault. She had encouraged Mary to disobey the explicit orders of her husband and her brother. Martha felt that she was the one who deserved the beating.

  Lazarus sat immobile, frozen with fear and helplessness. He was furious with Martha and Mary, but far more concerned with the beating his sister was receiving at the hands of her husband. He was utterly powerless to do anything about it. To intervene would add further insult to John, something he did not dare do. Besides, it was common for a husband to beat a disobedient wife. In the more traditional households, it was even expected. John’s actions were in keeping with his interpretation of the law.

  They still didn’t know how John had come to discover Mary’s presence at the Nazarene gathering. Was there an informer among them the previous night? Or was John’s gift of prophecy so clear that he saw Mary in his own visions?

  Whatever the catalyst, John had come to Bethany the following afternoon in a fit of uncontrolled rage and was determined to punish everyone involved in the deception. He knew his young wife had been sitting devotedly at the feet of his cousin the night before. Worse, she sat with the wanton spawn of the whore Herodias. For Mary to flaunt her Nazarene sympathies and her affiliation with Salome was a source of shame and embarrassment to John. It had the potential to damage his reputation.

  Damn the woman! Didn’t she understand that any smirch on his name could impact his work and diminish the message of God? This was proof that women had no sense, no ability to think things through to their consequences. Females were sinful creatures by nature, daughters of Eve and Jezebel. John was beginning to conclude that perhaps they were all beyond redemption.

  John shouted these things and more as he continued his assault. Mary huddled in the corner with her arms over her head in a futile effort to protect her face. It was too late; a purplish circle was spreading around one eye, and her lower lip was swollen and bleeding where the back of his hand had caused a tooth to tear it open. She managed to cry out, “Stop, you’ll hurt the baby.”

  John stayed his hand from the next blow. “What did you say?”

  Mary breathed deeply in an effort to calm herself. “I am with child.”

  John regarded her coldly. “You are a Nazarene whore who spent the night in the home of another man without a chaperone. I cannot even be sure that the child is mine.”

  Mary spoke slowly as she attempted to stand. “I am not what you call me. I came to you as a virgin bride, and I have never been with any man save you, my husband under the law.” She emphasized these last five words. “You are angry that I disobeyed you, and I deserve your anger.”

  She stood her ground now. A full head shorter than he, she drew herself up and looked into his face. “But your child does not deserve to be questioned. He will be a prince of our people one day.”

  John made a guttural noise in his throat and turned his back to leave. “I will deliver the strict terms of your confinement to Lazarus.” He opened the door and stalked out into the corridor. Without ever looking back, he issued a final verbal blow.

  “If that child is female, I will gladly forsake you both.”

  It was late the next afternoon when Mary decided to venture into the garden for some air. She had been in bed most of the day, nursing her bruises. The garden was private, enclosed by walls, so there was no chance of anyone seeing the marks of disgrace that covered her face. Or so she thought.

  Mary heard a rustling in the bushes that caused her heart to stop. What was it? Who was it? “Hello?” she called out haltingly.

  “Mary?” a female voice whispered, followed by more rustling. Suddenly a figure emerged from behind a row of hedges near the garden wall.

  “Salome! What are you doing here?” Mary ran to embrace her friend, a Herodian princess who was sneaking around like a common thief.

  Salome couldn’t answer immediately. She was struck motionless, staring at Mary’s battered face.

  Mary turned her head. “Is it so bad?” she asked in a whisper.

  Salome spat on the ground. “My mother is right. The Baptizer is an animal. How dare he treat you like this! You are a noblewoman.”

  Mary started to defend John but realized she didn’t have the energy. She was suddenly exhausted, worn-out by the events of recent days and by the growing toll that pregnancy was taking on her petite frame. She sat on a stone bench and was joined by her friend.

  “I brought this for you.” Salome handed Mary a silken pouch. “There’s a healing unguent in the jar. It will soothe your bruises.”

  “How did you know?” Mary asked. It had suddenly occurred to her that Salome knew something that only Martha and Lazarus had witnessed.

  Salome shrugged. “He saw it.” There could only be one “he.” “He didn’t tell me what happened. He just said, ‘Take your finest healing cream to your sister Mary. She will be in need of it immediately.’ And then he said to be sure no one else saw me come here because of John.”

  Mary tried to smile at the revelation of Easa’s vision, but the cut lip made her wince instead. Salome’s lovely face darkened with anger as she watched her friend in pain. “Why did he do it?” Salome demanded.

  “I disobeyed him.”

  “How?”

  “By attending the Nazarene meeting.”

  The dawn of understanding crept up on Salome. “Ah, so we are the enemy now as far as the Baptizer is concerned. I wonder when he will publicly denounce Easa? That is sure to happen next.”

  Mary gasped. “They are kin, and John announced Easa publicly at his baptism. He wouldn’t do such a thing.”

  “No? I’m not so sure, sister.” Salome was thinking. “My mother says that John is as cunning as a serpent. Think about it. He married you to legitimize his kingship, and now you’re pregnant with his heir. He denounces my mother as an adulteress and uses the fact that she’s a Nazarene against her, and as a weapon over the rest of us. What’s the next step? To publicly withdraw his support of Easa based on what John believes is our Nazarene disregard for the law. He won’t be satisfied until he destroys The Way.”

  “I don’t think John would do that, Salome.”

  “Don’t you?” The girl laughed, a hard sound from someone so young. “You haven’t spent as much time around the Herods as I have. What men will do to advance their position is astonishing.”

  Mary sighed and shook her head. “I know this is hard for you to believe, but John is a good man and a true prophet. I would not have married him if I did not believe that to be so, nor would my brother have agreed to it.
John is different from Easa, and he is harsh and rough, but he believes in the kingdom of God. He lives only to help men find God through repentance and the law.”

  “Yes, he believes in helping men. As for women, John would sooner drown us all in his precious river than offer us salvation.” Salome made a face to show her disdain. “And he has become a puppet of the Pharisees, if for no other reason than because he has no social or political skills of his own. He goes where they direct him. And I guarantee that he will be directed to question Easa’s legitimacy even further if he is not stopped.”

  Mary looked at her friend. Something about the way Salome was speaking made her nervous, yet it was a fear mixed with respect. Her childhood friend had developed a savvy understanding of politics from her time in the Herods’ palaces.

  “What do you propose?”

  As Mary looked up, a beam of sunlight illuminated her face, showing off the florid purple and black marring of bruises. The Herodian princess shuddered at the sight of Mary’s beautiful, fine-boned face with such marks. When Salome spoke, it was with a soft determination. “I will make John the Baptizer pay for his deeds — against you, against Easa, and against my mother. One way or another.”

  A shudder wracked Mary’s body at those words. Despite the heat of a midday sun, she suddenly felt very, very cold.

  The swiftness of John’s arrest was staggering. Mary was to find out much later that Salome had hastened to the tetrarch’s winter palace near the Dead Sea, where a celebration was under way for the birthday of Herod Antipas. Herod had requested that Salome dance for him and his guests — the girl’s grace and beauty were legendary, and travelers had come a great distance to pay tribute to Herod. The tetrarch felt it would be a gesture of goodwill to show off his exquisite stepdaughter.

  Salome entered the room where the celebration was in full Roman swing. She was dressed in glittering silks and golden chains that had been bestowed by her doting stepfather. As she arrived in the room, she caused a stir among the guests, who craned their necks for a better look at the stunning princess.