“And Alexander—where is he?” Mara asked with just a hint of suspicion in her voice. Simon could tell she knew something wasn’t quite right.
“He should be only a few days behind me. He stayed behind because . . .” Simon took another bite, trying to seem nonchalant. “He wanted to listen to the teachings of the man the entire country is talking about, the man they call Jesus.”
The table was quiet. Simon kept eating, willing himself not to look up. While his heart had softened, he still was not sure how he felt about Alexander’s decision. He didn’t know what else to say. He worried that if he did say something it might sound angry. And so he decided he would not speak next, no matter what happened.
Finally, Mara looked at Rufus, gesturing to him to speak.
“Father, these teachings, as you call them, they are here as well. Many have come here who were present at his baptism by a man named John. They say something happened there. There was something they saw after the baptism, and then they heard a voice from heaven proclaiming him the Son of God.”
Quiet again.
“Yes,” Simon said. “That is what I heard too. And that’s what has captured Alexander’s imagination. He came through that area just after it happened. He walked many miles with some who witnessed it, and they told it exactly as you did. He was taken with their words, and he stayed. Jesus came to Tiberias, where we were, and he wanted to listen to him and to decide for himself.” Simon stopped for a second. “Well, that is what I think he should do, but when he spoke to me, it sounded as though he had already decided.”
“Decided what?” Mara asked.
“I think he has decided this is the Messiah, the one prophesied about. And he has based that decision on second- and thirdhand stories and on what he ‘feels.’” The way Simon emphasized that last word revealed just how much doubt he had.
Mara did not miss a beat. “And, you, my husband. You heard him tell it. What are your feelings?”
Simon looked around the table. This was not a simple question.
“Something has happened while I was gone, hasn’t it?”
Everyone looked at Rufus. “It has, Father. Apparently, right after John baptized him, Jesus went into the wilderness for several weeks, and no one heard from him. Then, when he came back, he began to teach. A new idea is now brought here by someone almost every day. He preaches of new commandments, of a different way of living. And every day we wait, hoping more will come up from the harbor with new experiences.”
“I see. Well, let me reverse the question. What are your feelings?”
Rufus answered immediately. “Father, it’s true. All of it. I know it.”
“Because you feel it, correct?”
“Yes, because I feel it. It’s not wanting it to be true, though I do. And it’s not hoping it is true. It’s an experience I have never had before. These feelings are so strong they are knowledge. And I feel I would offend God were I to say otherwise, because I think it is God sending these to me.”
Simon just listened. When Rufus was done, Simon turned to Mara and raised a questioning eyebrow.
She stood from her seat and moved next to him. With her hands around his shoulders, she said, “Simon, I have always felt strongly that you and I are together on everything, and I think we have done well on that. But I cannot deny that, like Rufus, I have strong feelings. I feel as he does, and as completely as he does.”
She looked around the table at their family. “Simon, we all do.”
She then moved her hand to his cheek. “However, I can see you do not. Please don’t let that come between us.”
He patted her hand. “It will not. Nothing would.”
She looked deep into his eyes. “But, my Simon, please give this a chance.”
Perhaps it was his great love for Mara that caused him to do it. Or perhaps it was a small fleck of that feeling the others spoke of having. Whatever it was, he did something different than he’d ever done. He decided that this time he would not ignore what he didn’t understand.
“I am not sure of anything,” he said. “But I want you to tell me what you have heard, and why you are so sure.”
Mara’s eyes filled with tears as she leaned forward and threw her arms around him. The girls and Samuel got up and ran to him and did the same. Rufus stood behind him and grabbed his shoulders tightly. When they finished clasping each other, they went back to their seats, but each person was leaning a little closer to Simon
“Rufus,” Mara said, “you speak.”
For the next few hours, they shared each of the things they had heard, and what they felt, and why it mattered to them. Simon had to admit this felt better. He still did not know what he thought, but they were not at odds. They were excited, and he loved them so; he could listen because of that.
When they finished, it was late. The younger children retired to their beds, and Rufus and his wife returned to their home down the street. As Simon lay in bed with Mara, she held him tight but drifted off almost immediately. He looked at her. Her face was serene, almost smiling, and he would have guessed she was suppressing a laugh but for her deep breathing that let him know she was slumbering.
He stared at the ceiling. He did not know what to think. But he did know this—he loved his family and would try as hard as he could for them.
In the week leading up to Alexander’s return home, Simon’s family told him more and more about their feelings—and with increasing intensity. Once they knew Simon was open to listening, they couldn’t resist. He had to smile at their passion. They each repeated the same things but used different ways to explain it all. He still wasn’t sure he believed everything, but he no longer felt like he was defending a line in the sand.
The day before Alexander arrived, Simon was cleaning the animal stalls behind his home when Samuel came out and asked to help. He gave his youngest son a job suited to his age and then went about his own work. After a few minutes, Samuel stopped working and, in a hesitant manner, asked a question.
“Father, are you angry at us?”
Simon stopped immediately and squatted down to look at his son. “Samuel, why would you say that? I’m not angry at anything! I am so glad to be back with you. Have I done something to make you think I’m angry?”
Samuel’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at him. “I was just worried.”
“About what?”
“Everyone is so excited about Jesus. But you weren’t here, and I did not know if you would be excited, and I was worried about our family . . .” His words trailed off and turned into sobs. He fell against his father, hugging him and burying his head in his shoulder.
“Samuel, Samuel,” he said as he stroked his head. “Samuel, I’m excited too.”
Samuel immediately picked his head up and looked at him.
“You are?” His eyes were red, but he was smiling. “You really are?”
Simon was perplexed for a minute. He did not want to lie to Samuel, but the boy’s feelings were clearly fragile. He chose his words carefully. “Samuel, I am excited that our family is so excited. I am still learning, but can that be enough for now?”
The boy nodded.
Simon asked him again, “Why were you so worried?”
Samuel looked off to the side, his voice cracking. “My friend Asher and his brothers and sisters and mother have all listened to the stories from the people that come to our town too, and they all want to hear more, like we do. But their father does not. He gets more and more angry every time they talk about it, and a couple days ago, he said they couldn’t listen to the stories anymore.”
Samuel’s eyes filled up with tears again, and his breathing became unsteady.
“Go on,” Simon said gently.
“And now Asher is not supposed to play with me if I talk about it. And his father said if they kept believing, he would have to leave.”
Simon comforted him quietly for a few minutes. When it seemed Samuel had calmed down, Simon took him by the shoulders and held him at arm’s length. “Samuel, that will never happen. Never! You are my family, and you are what I live for. You could never do anything that would make me leave. I give you my word that even if we all disagree about something, we will still be a family, and nothing will come between us.”
He looked into Samuel’s eyes. “Do you believe me, Samuel?”
Samuel smiled and nodded.
“Then that is that. So, now I need to ask you a question. How do you feel about all of this? Do you believe the stories?”
Samuel smiled, his eyes red. “They make me happy.”
“Then that makes me happy,” Simon said.
He tousled his son’s hair and stood up. He watched proudly as Samuel went back to work. The boy was conscientious. He could also tell that a great burden had been lifted from him. He felt a sense of peace come over him as he committed to himself that he would do all he could to understand what was happening.
The very next day, his commitment was challenged.
While his family conversed enthusiastically and began making hurried plans, Simon sat stone-faced at the table.
Alexander had arrived that morning, just before the first meal, entering his parents’ home with a giggling child wrapped around each leg, hand-in-hand with his wife. He greeted his father with a smile and his mother with a warm hug.
Simon smiled back at his oldest son, anxious to tell him how much had changed since they’d been together. He knew his son might be a little wary of him and cautious about upsetting him. As soon as they could be alone, he told himself, he would smooth things over.
During the meal, Alexander could not stop talking. He had followed Jesus from place to place for a week and was eager to share everything he’d learned. He said that wherever Jesus went, people crowded around him.
“He speaks of new commandments,” Alexander said. “Of forgiveness and repentance and of watching out for our fellow man. Everywhere, he captivates people. Those of us following him compare our feelings, and it is the same. We are each filled with understanding—every one of us. I’ve never felt like this.”
He looked at his wife, who smiled through her tears and said haltingly, “I understand. I feel it as well.”
Alexander continued. “He calls it the Holy Ghost. It’s not just a feeling, it’s a spirit that can reside within us, and it testifies of truth to us. We could all feel it echoing inside.”
Simon was captivated too. His mind raced with ideas. Then, suddenly, Alexander’s voice faded into the background, and Simon recalled something with perfect clarity. He saw himself in the middle of the night, standing a short distance from a cave in Bethlehem. He recalled the feeling that had come over him that night as he’d watched the shepherds gazing in a awe at a newborn baby. It was a feeling of peace and reassurance. After all these years, he thought to himself, that memory is so clear.
“And,” Alexander said, “that is not all. He performs miracles.”
Simon’s attention turned back to his son’s voice.
“Not one but many! There was a wedding in Cana just before I found him, in which to honor the bride and bridegroom he changed water into wine.”
The family held their breath.
“At first I couldn’t believe it myself, but there were several with us who had attended the wedding, and they swore it was true.”
Simon could feel something—trouble, suspicion maybe?—begin to rise within him. Water into wine, he thought cynically. It’s starting to sound like the stories that were exaggerated by travelers around fires on the road.
“He healed the son of an official at Capernaum,” Alex shared excitedly.
“You saw this one?” Simon asked.
The joy evident in Alexander’s face darkened a little. “I did not, Father. But these people with me, who I trust, they did.”
Simon forced a smile and said nothing. He felt some tension return between him and Alexander. Fortunately, nobody else seemed to notice it.
Simon willed himself to let it go, and it eased some.
But not for long.
“The most important news is this,” Alexander said carefully. “And, Devorah, I have not spoken with you yet, so I am sorry for bringing this up with the whole family present, but, well . . .”
“Go ahead,” she said. “There’s nothing you can say that they cannot hear. And I believe I know what you will say.”
Alexander smiled at her, then turned to his family. “On the next to last day I was there, Jesus was teaching by the seashore, by the Sea of Galilee. He told us the time had come for the kingdom of God on earth to be established. We need to repent, he said, and believe what he teaches us and follow him . . .”
Simon cut in, trying to mask the hint of challenge in his voice. “Most of these things he teaches—how we should act and treat others—they make sense to me. And telling us to repent is sound advice. But can’t we be good people—aren’t we still good people—without believing everything he is saying? Must we embrace it all?”
Alexander seemed to notice his father’s effort to remain open and unchallenging. “Father, that is a good question. I think it all comes down to faith. Jesus says this is the most basic doctrine. If we have faith in God and faith that Jesus is his son, we will follow him—follow all of his ways. And this faith will give us power . . . and joy. Joy that is greater than anything you can imagine! Power to do his work and change our lives—and others’ lives.”
Simon persisted. “But, why? Why does the power come from that? If God loves us, and I believe he does, why don’t we have that power?”
Alexander responded lovingly. “Father, I don’t know what it all means yet, and likely never will. But he’s taught this, and I believe it. If complete faith is what is asked of me, that is what I will give.”
“And,” Alexander said, looking back at Devorah, “that is what I wanted to tell you. While there, he went to these fishermen and spoke with them. I couldn’t hear his words, but they later told us that he had asked them to leave their nets and follow him. Not for a while but forever! And do you know what these men did? They looked at him and stopped what they were doing! There were four of them, three young, one older. The older one reached down and put his hands in the water, then stood, wiped them on his cloak, and started walking behind Jesus down the beach. Just like that!”
He continued. “I hear his voice in my heart, asking me to do whatever I can to serve him. So, Devorah, I believe we need to go to Galilee, all of us. There is so much to do, and I want to be a part of it.”
The family gasped, and Simon’s face turned to stone. Everyone looked at Devorah, who was quiet.
Her eyes welled up. “Alexander, I have been praying these last few weeks. When people came through the town—believers and followers—and told us of what was happening, I felt the call to be there, to help. I have been praying that you would be touched as well. I have had something, someone, tell me clearly that you would be affected this way on your trip with Simon. I was told that I must be sure, and if I was, that I must be ready. When your father told us of the baptism of Jesus and that you were staying, I knew my prayers were answered, and I have been preparing. When you are ready, I am. We all are.”
Everyone began talking excitedly at once. Simon remained frozen in place. Why was this happening? Why would his son leave them, leave his birthplace to . . . ? And what was this emotion welling up in him? Sadness? Anger? Hurt? Something else entirely? He did not know. He didn’t understand what was happening; it was just too much. And though he sincerely did not want to draw attention to himself, he felt an urgent need to be alo
ne to sift through his thoughts. Quietly, he stood and walked out the rear door of their house and into their stable area.
When he turned to the south, he could see the sea in the distance and the ships, ever so small, moving in and out of port as the sun glistened off the waters. Inside his home, his world had just turned inside out. But out here, everything was just as it had always been—moving forward at its own pace, ignorant of Alexander’s decision, his family’s reaction, and everything it meant to Simon’s life. This feeling comforted him but also chastised him, reminding him that the world did not revolve around him.
He stood for a while—he did not know for how long—blocking everything from his mind but the view down the hillside.
At one point he heard someone come up behind him. Thirty-plus years of caring about his wife had given him an uncanny ability to recognize the sound of her walk, the cadence of her movements, and the rustling swish of her robes as they brushed the ground. He felt a sense of familiarity and relief as her gentle hand found its way around his waist and she rested her head on his shoulder. They stood together in comfortable silence for another while.
He spoke first. “I suppose you feel this is a good idea?”
She rubbed his back for a moment, then answered. “If feel sure that Alexander feels sure. I feel Devorah has heard rightly the answer to her prayers. If these are true, then I feel it is a good idea for them.”
“And for us?” he said as he turned to look at her.
“Unless I am missing something, I do not think you have heard the same call.” She stopped there and let it settle.
“No, I’ve not.” He laughed under his breath, but not with humor. “Not even close.”
“Then our place is here, together.”
He was not worthy of this woman! He’d felt this way since the day they’d married, and the thought came rushing back to him again, all at once. He turned toward her and took her by the shoulders. “But what would you do if it were not for me?”
The Last Man at the Inn Page 8