From the Shores of Eden

by Shelley Penner

  “These are the women my father chose?” Yeshua questioned with a sinking feeling of dismay.

  “Yes, young Master.”

  “You have others then?”

  “These women do not please you? I assure you, they are all trained in the many ways of satisfying a man.”

  “They seem very beautiful, but…I would like to see what else you have to offer.”

  The High Mother frowned. “These are the women your father approved, the most beautiful, from the best family bloodlines.”

  With narrowed eyes, Elijah quietly demanded, “Are you refusing the future David the right to choose his own wife?”

  Stubbornly, she replied, “I am following the suggestions of the ruling David.”

  “But suggestions are not orders. A man has the right to choose his own bride.”

  “Forgive me, High Mother,” Yeshua offered quietly. “These women seem very beautiful and accomplished, but I would like to see the others. How many wards do you have at present?”

  “Fifty-two, including the orphans. However, only eighteen have reached betrothal age, and of those only four others come from acceptable bloodlines.”

  “I would like to see all you deem old enough, including the orphans.”

  She appeared almost offended. “Most of the orphans are commoners with no family ties, simple charity cases. We train them as servants.”

  “Please…all of them.”

  She sighed with irritation. “Very well. They’ve had no time to prepare, and most are not as highly trained and skilled as these eight, so I fear they’ll only disappoint you. Mary Rachel, please gather the older girls quickly and bring them here, in whatever state they presently exhibit.”

  Some came earth stained from the garden and others smirched with dust from housekeeping. Nine of them lined up, carefully blank faced and demure, though less skilled at hiding their nervousness than the original eight. Studying them, Yeshua realized with a sinking feeling that he likely wouldn’t find what he sought in this place, where the girls were trained from infancy to submerge their own personalities, to become blank slates for their husbands to mold, empty vessels for them to fill.

  “You said you had eighteen old enough. I see only seventeen.”

  “Mary Rachel, who is missing?

  “Mary Magdalene is in disgrace, High Mother. She’s doing penance again.”

  The High Mother turned to Yeshua and told him, “Of all our wards, Mary Magdalene seems the least suitable for a high-born marriage. She came to us from a common background, too old, almost ten, and she maintains contrary ideas which we cannot seem to correct. She remains poorly trained and too stubborn to change.”

  Yeshua felt a stirring of hope. He doubted the rest of these blank-faced, over-trained puppets harbored a single idea amongst them, contrary or otherwise. And since many of his own ideas seemed contrary, perhaps he could find some common ground with this mystery Mary.

  “I would like to meet her anyway. She sounds intriguing.”

  At the High Mother’s nod, Mary Rachel once more disappeared and returned moments later leading a young woman, perhaps sixteen, her clothing dark with water stains, her bare arms reddened from hours of scrubbing with harsh soap in scalding water. Her dark hair reached to the small of her back and curled from the damp into a messy tangle she had tied back with a grass cord. Her expression looked sullen until she spotted the two young men and realized she was being offered for marriage in her unpresentable state. She flushed red, then her chin came up and she met Yeshua’s gaze with bold defiance. This was a woman who refused to compromise her selfhood. That expression of pride and defiance went straight to his heart and every cell in his body cried, yes! Something inside him relaxed as if coming home, as if suddenly recognizing a long-lost part of himself.

  Following the established formula, Yeshua indicated his choice. “May I have a private conversation with Mary Magdalene?”

  The High Mother gave him a hard, suspicious stare but could not deny his right. “You may. But understand…she remains an untamed spirit. You must win her acceptance. If you only want her so you can break her with cruelty, I hold the right to refuse you.”

  He bowed politely and replied, “I understand, Mother. I have no desire or intention of harming her. I value that spirit.”

  The rest of the girls filed out, the original eight casting resentful glares at Mary Magdalene that displayed more emotion than they had shown through the entire presentation.

  The High Mother departed with the girls. Elijah and Mary Rachel moved to one end of the hall, Elijah as Yeshua’s bodyguard and Mary Rachel as a chaperone. At the other end of the hall, Yeshua offered Mary Magdalene a seat on the floor cushions set up specifically for socializing, so Yeshua could get to know his chosen bride. The girl settled hesitantly, clearly feeling uncertain, wondering why he would choose her out of all the more acceptable options.

  “Mary Magdalene, my name is Yeshua, son of Joseph the David.”

  Her eyes widened in an expression akin to horror. “But…you are a prince! Why would you choose me? I’m nothing, nobody!”

  “Hush. You are a child of God, as am I,” he reminded her gently. “The artificial hierarchy established by power-seeking men means little. We all remain equal before God. I chose you because this house has not crippled your heart as it has these other women. I am not seeking a wife with no thoughts of her own, or no confidence to express her opinions. I desire a loving partner, not an obedient slave.”

  He described for her his family situation, disgraced mother and absentee father, his uncertain status as Joseph’s heir, his friendship with the fishermen’s families and the honorable, loving example they set. When asked, Mary Magdalene told her own story. The daughter of a sandal maker, she lost her parents and two siblings during an outbreak of terrible illness that killed many people in her neighbourhood. With no nearby relatives to claim her, the village priest brought her to the Women’s House. As a commoner orphan, she needed to work hard to earn her keep, but in exchange she received three meals a day and an education. That training included mental conditioning to remain always submissive before a man, to ignore her own wants and needs and make fulfilling a husband’s desires her reason for living, to remain pure between annual visits and accept the limited function of child-bearer and not expect or demand anything more. Having enjoyed ten years as part of a loving family, Magdalene resisted this demeaning role, and that rebellion put her often in disgrace.

  “And what dreams do you hold for your future?” Yeshua asked. “I know this place doesn’t encourage you to dream, but if you could choose any life for yourself, what would you want?”

  She hesitated, looking suddenly shy. The training of a Mary had not left her unaffected, nor had the punishments. “A husband who sees me as a person,” she said softly, her eyes downcast, “who loves me and respects my opinion. One who would stay and help to raise our children with kindness and honor.”

  Yeshua smiled and nodded. “This is what I want as well…not just a mother for my children, but a companion who will advise and support me and demand mutual respect, who will help me understand the wisdom of women and remind me to remain humble, who will make me laugh when the world makes me weep.”

  Mary Magdalene relaxed a little, seeming relieved. If she had the choice to refuse him, she didn’t appear aware of it. Suddenly a sly, teasing smile brought dimples to her cheeks and she asked, “Will I be queen?” She seemed more amused by the thought than ambitious.

  “Always,” he replied. “Whether I become the new David or not, you will remain the queen of my heart. However, as the son of the David, the son of God on earth, I must put the will of God before my own desires. Even before your wellbeing or that of our children.”

  * * *

  In the sleeping village of Nazareth, Yeshua and Magdalene indulged their passions, undiminished after three months of marriage.

  “You are the earth, and I am the sky,” he mur
mured as he eased himself inside her. “The sky enters the earth. The earth enfolds the sky, and a new seed is conceived.”

  After that he had no breath to speak as they rocked together, climbed a wave of sensation and peaked together at the crest in a throbbing, pulsing crescendo. He had come to cherish the slender, receptive strength of her body, the clean, womanly scent of her and the glorious wealth of her hair. During their wedding ceremony, she washed his feet and dried them with that soft, perfumed abundance. That moment seemed the most erotically sensual experience of his life. At that time, he had no idea what delights the marriage bed offered.

  “God has blessed us,” he said as they snuggled together afterwards.

  At first she said nothing, but he sensed her reservations and, reluctant to ruin the feeling of contentment, he accepted her silence. At last, she spoke, quietly introspective.

  “I had a pet dog when I was young,” she told him at last. “I loved him dearly and he followed me everywhere. One day, a Roman horse patrol trampled him, and he crawled home bleeding from the mouth. I prayed to God that he might survive, but he suffered for two days before he died. Then, when my family became so sick, I prayed to God that he might spare us. When I woke from the fever, I found myself alone in the world with everyone I loved dead. I don’t believe God listens. I don’t believe He cares.”

  “He cares. But what we want may not fit with His plan for us.”

  “So, His plan was for my family to die and leave me alone?”

  “The love of your family taught you to remain strong…strong enough to survive without them. God inspired the priest in your village to take you to the Women’s House rather than leave you to live in the streets and become a prostitute. Life, I think, is not meant to remain comfortable. We learn from our losses, our afflictions, our mistakes, far more than we would learn from an easy life with no problems or conflicts.”

  “The High Priest calls the Maries prostitutes, even though they remain untouched by men until after they wed.”

  Yeshua snorted. “I expect he thinks of all women that way. For a man like him, who lives a celibate life, women represent temptation, and therefore he sees all women as temptresses, luring men away from dedication to God.”

  Magdalene rolled over and rested her chin on his chest, peering at him in the dimness. “Is that how you see me? As a temptress?”

  “Absolutely, my dearest, most arousing temptation.” He kissed her tenderly. “Soon though, I must begin my mission. You may await me here if you wish, or you may accompany me in my wanderings.” He held his breath, waiting to hear her decision.

  “You said we would be partners. Until I am with child, I would prefer to travel with you. I have no wish to stay here alone and I’ve always wanted to see more of the world.”

  * * *

  Yeshua had met his cousin, John, for the first time at his initiation ceremony when John baptized him. His cousin made it clear then that, although he chose to follow the traditional eastern practices of the nationalist party, he did not support militarism and he considered Yeshua the legitimate heir to the throne of David. That endorsement warmed the young man’s heart. So when Yeshua began his mission, for a time he and Mary Magdalene followed John as the Baptist wandered and preached in the wilderness. A powerful speaker, John’s voice rolled like thunder as he boomed out his message, “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!” But his message warned sternly of damnation and eternal punishment, leaving little room for hope. Before long, Yeshua noticed Magdalene growing quieter, increasingly unhappy.

  “What is it, wife?” he asked one night as they lay together in the small tent they shared. “What has you looking so miserable? Are you tired of this life already?”

  “No, husband,” she responded softly. “Only John’s message weighs on my heart. His message breeds fear and fear breeds violence and despair.”

  “I’ve considered similar thoughts myself. Perhaps it’s time to start our own ministry, one that breeds peace.”

  Yeshua said goodbye to John and began preaching his own version.

  “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!” he cried joyfully, telling his listeners that the Kingdom had room for all of them and a path to redemption existed if they would only ask forgiveness and atone for their sins. Instead of doom and harsh judgment, he spoke of God’s love for His children. “Blessed in spirit are the poor, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for God shall comfort them. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” People young and old, poor and rich, Hebrew and Roman, began flocking to hear his words of hope and love.

  Whenever Yeshua saw among the crowds sick or crippled people too poor to afford a physician, he felt compelled to do whatever he could to help them. To these marginalized people his ministrations seemed miraculous, not only his cures but also his gentle, caring manner with those who had known little kindness or respect. His fame spread both as a preacher and a healer. Because in those days the Roman occupation required all citizens to adopt a Roman name, Yeshua became widely known as Jesus.

  * * *

  John became fond of Yeshua during their time together and regretted his departure. In support of his cousin, John began spreading word amongst his flocks of followers that Jesus was the legitimate heir to the throne of David. He knew the support of the common people might make all the difference when the time came to confirm Joseph’s successor. When word of this reached the temple, Boethus felt outraged, for he resented John’s power and fame as a prophet and his refusal to use that popularity to support an armed rebellion. And Boethus wanted James to inherit…James who, as a youth yet, seemed easier to manipulate than Yeshua and more inclined toward a militant attitude.

  With great cunning, Boethus plotted John’s death. He sent a message to Herod the tetrarch, the Roman governor over Israel, accusing John of spreading seditious rumors. But to Boethus’s disappointment, Herod only had John imprisoned, not executed. So the leader of the Pharisees went to the Women’s House and plotted with the High Mother. They sent Mary Salome, disguised as a simple performer, to dance at the birthday party of Herod’s daughter, where they knew from past experience that Herod would pledge to the best of the entertainers the gift of their heart’s desire. Salome danced with exquisite grace and sensuous seduction, made all the more alluring by her innocence. She won the tetrarch’s admiration, and when he asked her what reward she desired, she replied as the High Mother had instructed her…she asked for the head of John the Baptist on a plate.

  * * *

  Weary after a long day of preaching and healing, Yeshua lay resting in his modest home in Nazareth. Although he and Magdalene had only a single bedroom and one larger room that served as a kitchen and sitting room, a number of people often stayed with them, sleeping on the floors because they had nowhere else to go. He could hear several of his followers now, talking and laughing in the kitchen while they helped Magdalene prepare a meal. He heard a pounding at the door, then a boy came to inform him, “Someone has come to see you, Master. He looks like he’s travelled a long way in a hurry.”

  Yeshua rose and went to greet the visitor. He found a familiar figure standing in the common room, clearly exhausted and distraught.

  “Andrew!” Yeshua smiled, delighted. He embraced his old fishing friend, but he could feel some terrible anxiety vibrating through the man. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mother,” Andrew panted. “She took ill a few days ago. We heard you have performed miracles of healing. Please, will you come?”

  “Of course, Andrew.” Yeshua turned to his wife. “Magdalene, this woman was like a second mother. I must travel quickly to Bethsaida and try to help her. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  “I understand, Yeshua. I’ll pack some food for you.”

  James and Yeshua left within the hour. The journey back to Bethsaida took four days. They stopped only when exhaustion forced them to collapse and rest for a
few hours. At last, they arrived at the home of Jonas, only to find they had arrived too late. They found Peter in the backyard, venting his grief by chopping firewood with such wild vigor it threatened his own safety. In the kitchen the daughters of Jonas wept and comforted one another. Jonas slumped on a stool beside his front door, overcome with grief. Andrew and Yeshua knelt on either side of him. Jonas put his hand on Andrew’s shoulder and said, “Thank you, my son, for trying. Your mother died the day after you left. And thank you, Yeshua, for coming. I’m sorry you travelled all this way for nothing.”

  “I loved her too, Jonas. She felt like a second mother to me. I’m so sorry we didn’t arrive in time to help.”

  Jonas nodded heavily in acknowledgement. “I journeyed to the temple,” he said, “to sacrifice some doves to guide her spirit. But they wanted twenty coppers for each dove, and I only had ten.”

  Yeshua’s face hardened with anger, an expression so unlike him that Andrew felt startled.

  “I promise you, Jonas,” Yeshua said gently, “by now Shoshanna rests in God’s embrace, loved by Him as dearly as she was loved by us. A pure spirit like hers would have no trouble finding its way home.”

  * * *

  The following day, Yeshua headed up into the mountains to the temple. Jonas and his family traveled with him, hoping their friend might intercede for them so they might be allowed a sacrifice to honor Shoshanna. When they reached the temple, they found the grounds crowded with Gentiles, many speaking foreign languages, all come to pay their initiation dues and get baptized into the faith. The family of Jonas waited in the shade of the trees, for in the past the priests had not allowed them to cross the threshold. Yeshua continued into the outer hall of the temple and stopped, stunned to see a row of tables set up, with priests exchanging foreign currency and taking payments from rows of Gentiles. At another table they sold caged doves for sacrifice and in one corner of the room someone had set up a small pen with five sacrificial goats. In the background, Boethus and half a dozen Pharisees worked, some keeping records, others sorting and counting coins and more taking the initiates through to the baptismal pool, giving them a quick dunking and a white pebble marked with their new Hebrew name. Yeshua couldn’t believe they would so defile the temple. With a roar of rage, he overturned the nearest counting board, scattering coins in every direction. One after another he upended the tables. The cages crashed to the floor and some broke open, releasing a handful of doves that fluttered up into the rafters. Two escaped out the open doorway.