by Woods, Karen
“Of course it is,” Miriam agreed.
Caecilia introduced Marcellus to them and Miriam was given the place of the guest of highest honor. Marcellus said a blessing over the food. It was a different blessing than she was used to. But it was an honest prayer of praise to Elohim from an honest man.
The first course, the gustatio, was brought in by a servant. The food on the tray consisted of thin slices of grilled crusty bread topped with sliced boiled eggs and a finely chopped salad made of garden vegetables, herbs, olive oil, and pine nuts. Caecilia’s homemade wine flowed freely. Then came the prima mensa, the first table, which consisted of roasted and sliced wild duck and several cooked vegetables, more bread. Finally, came the secunda mensa, the second table, which was an assortment of small pastries and fresh fruit.
Conversation at dinner was substantial, with Yochanan and Miriam answering questions about why they were here and what they intended to do here.
After dinner, Marcellus said a thanksgiving for the food they had received. That prayer too was different from the birkat ha-mazon with which she had always ended meals. Caecilia showed them to bedrooms, cubiculi, and told them that it was too warm to sleep inside tonight so their beds would be bought out into the peristylum where they could have the fresh breezes and the coolness of the night air.
Miriam was of two minds about staying with Marcellus and Caecilia. They were believers. That made them family in a way nothing else could. But, she had never had much to do with Goyim. She had, until tonight, never eaten a non-Kosher meal. Game birds were okay, as game had a different required way of killing the animal to make it Kosher than domestic animals did. But how would she handle it when pork was served? Or shellfish? What about beef that had been killed in a pagan temple as an offering to a pagan god? The words of her son came to her mind. When he sent out the Seventy, he told them eat whatever was put before them without questioning, and to eat with thanksgiving. She remembered his teaching about what was important—to love Elohim with all her heart, soul, mind, and strength and to love her neighbors as herself, and that all else, including the dietary laws, was commentary.
She lay back and looked at the stars. She whispered, “Thank you, my Son, for relieving your mother’s delicate conscience. I will do as you have instructed.”
Soon, it came to be known that Miriam was with Marcellus and Caecilia. Believers came to see her, as they had in Yerushalayim and in Cyprus. She talked with them while she worked, helping Caecilia with her household tasks, with the mending, with the spinning, with whatever handiwork needed to be done, as she would have if she had been in the home of a biological, instead of strictly spiritual, daughter.
After the harvest, Marcellus had agreed to let a small house be built for Miriam and Yochanan on his land. The simple stone house went up relatively quickly, with the assistance of all of the male servants of the household working on it.
While Miriam had been happy to be in Caecilia’s home, she was delighted to have a home of her own after being so long a guest of other women. She bought some flax and began preparing it for spinning and weaving. Miriam was looking forward to having a little money from her work in order to have something of her own for almsgiving.
After making fishing nets and renting a small boat, Yochanan went out fishing every morning, except that of the Shabbat, then spent hours in the marketplace, selling his daily catch at a fair price and teaching of Yehoshua, whom the Romans called Iesus and the Greeks called Iesous. The money he earned, aside from what they required to live, was given to the ekklesia to be used for the relief of the poor.
Time passed, as time always does, one moment at a time, one day following another.
Yochanan was happy in his life in Ephesus. Miriam began to long to be back in Yerushalayim. She missed going to the Temple. She longed to visit the tomb of her parents. And she wanted to stand before the tomb which had once held her son and to pray there for the salvation of the world. The more she prayed about this, the more she knew that these longings were inspired by the Holy Spirit.
At an evening “Lord’s Day” celebration in the peristylum of the home of Marcellus, Miriam sat and listened as the writing of the Prophet Yisayahu was read in Greek by a young deacon, the passage the Suffering Servant, the one who bore sins and made intercession. Remembering that day, the day that her son had died, tore at her heart. And she could see that Yochanan was reliving that, as well.
Yochanan rose and spoke at length about this prophecy, about how Yehoshua had been written about six hundred years before his birth. His words hit home to many among the learners of the faith. Miriam could see the impact on those people when Yochanan finished his teaching, “I speak as a witness to these things. I stood with His mother and watched as our Lord hung on the cross and died, bearing our sins and making intercession for us. I was there when, before that, He commanded us to break bread and take wine in memory of him. Soon, we will do that, we will thank Almighty God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, for His mercy. The words Our Lord spoke when He commanded us to remember Him in this way will be said, and that bread and wine will become His body and blood given to us for our spiritual food. When Our Lord gave this teaching that we must eat His flesh and drink His blood or we would have no part of Him, that He was the Bread of Life and those who eat of His flesh would have eternal life, many were offended and left Him. When He asked Simon Cephas if Simon were to leave Him as well, Simon answered for all of us, ‘Where would we go? You have the words of life.’ He does have the words of life. Still, the life of a believer is not an easy one, my brothers and sisters. Our Lord was all good and He was numbered with the transgressors and killed by the authorities. We have seen persecutions come against us as his followers. Fortunately, it appears from recent letters from Yerushalayim that the current wave of persecutions there has ceased. But there will be others. If the world hated Our Lord, it will also hate us. He told us that. All we can do is to strive to become the people Our Lord calls us to be, to be His witness to the world of the great and merciful love which Our God, One God in Three Persons, has for the every one in the world. Now, my brothers and sisters, before we go on with the great thanksgiving, the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, the learners of the faith not yet baptized into Our Lord’s death and resurrection, as well as those who because of unconfessed and unrepented sin cannot join us in our prayers, need to leave. Go with God, my friends. May you join us soon at His table, for the good of your souls.”
The learners of the faith, and several other people, left. When they were gone, the doors were barred to prevent any intrusion on the holy communion.
They sang a communion hymn that had been recently written but had already come to be much loved, “Let all mortal flesh be silent, standing in fear and trembling, and meditate upon nothing earthly. For the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, Christ our God, comes forward to be sacrificed and to be given as food for the faithful. The bands of angels go before him, with every power and dominion, the many-eyed cherubim, the six-winged seraphim, covering their faces and crying aloud the hymn, Alleuia, Alleuia, Alleuia.”
Then Yochanan continued with the form of the service that had been written by Yaacov, the Just, the son of Yosef, in an effort to make sure Christian worship was done with reverence. Miriam knew those prayers well, but never ceased to be moved by them.
After all present had received the bread and wine, after the formal part of the worship had ended, they sang the mizmor of David proclaiming that the Lord was their Shepherd and also sang the song of Simeon.
Walking back to their small house, Miriam said to Yochanan, “I wish to return to Yerushalayim.”
“My work, right now, is here,” he said.
“I know. I can return alone.”
“No, you cannot. I promised Yehoshua I would take care of you as if you were my mother.”
“Adult sons often have lives of their own, my son. Sometimes, those lives take them far from the homes of their mothers. I feel the Holy Spirit calling me to re
turn to Yerushalayim.”
“Let me pray about this, Emma,” Yochanan said.
“Of course,” she allowed.
“When I have an answer for you, we will talk of this again. Until then, please do not speak of this to me, or to others.”
“As you wish, my son. I am very tired. Shall we sing our bedtime prayers as we walk?”
Several weeks later, Yochanan handed her a letter he had received from Yosef of Arimathea. In it, Yosef promised that he would see Miriam was kept safe, if she returned to Yerushalayim. He also said that he’d been keeping an eye on Yochanan’s house in the city and that it would have the roof repaired and be cleaned in preparation for Miriam’s return.
She handed it back to him. “Is that the answer to your prayers, my son?”
“You recall the boat that brought us to Ephesus?”
“Vividly.”
“The captain will take you back to Yoppa, the next time he comes to Ephesus. I have a letter from Levi in Yoppa. He and Tamar will walk to Yerushalayim with you. Their three daughters, Sepphora, Abigail, and Yael, will remain with you there. They are young and strong and will be of great use to you.”
“I should be happy for their company.”
“I’ve noticed that your hands are hurting you more these days, Emma. The girls should be able to help you with your work.”
“You are a good son.”
“I feel as though I am failing you in allowing you to go back to Yerushalayim alone,” he said on a sigh.
“I am never alone, my son. Yehoshua is always with me. Your love is always with me. You must do what you must do. I, too, have things to do that I can only do in Yerushalayim.”
“Am I being selfish remaining here?” he asked.
Miriam shook her head. “Your work here is about the most unselfish thing I know a man can do. You give all you have, all your efforts, to bring people into relationship with Elohim through my son. No, I wish for you to stay here and work. A blind man could see how much this life suits you, my dear son.”
He sighed and rubbed his chin. “I still feel as though I am failing in my duty to you in letting you return to Yerushalayim without me.”
“You are not. I am an old woman. Much of the good I can do in my life, I have already done. I wish to spend my last mortal years at home, in the land Elohim gave my ancestors, among my own people. My son, before He entered Yerushalayim in triumph that first day of the last week of his mortal life, prophesied about the city, ‘If you, even you, had known on this day what would bring you peace; but now, this is hidden from your eyes. The days will come when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you, hemming you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and your children within your walls. They will not leave one stone upon another, because you did not recognize the time of El Elohe Yisra’el coming to you.’ That’s what He said. I heard Him speak and His words are engraved on my mind. I don’t know when this will come to pass. Yet, I feel it will be sooner rather than later.”
Yochanan looked at her for a long moment. “I do remember that prophecy, and I agree with you that it will likely come about sooner rather than later.”
She nodded. “I want to walk in the streets where He walked. I want to see people that He knew. I want to spend time in the Temple. I want to go out to the tomb of my mother and father, and to remember them in that place. I want to go out to the tomb that briefly held my son, the place from which he arose from the dead. I wish to pray there. The day will come when Yerushalayim as we know it will not exist.” She sighed. “I feel the Holy Spirit calling me to return home. Why He wants me to go home, I don’t know. Yet, I am certain there is a reason this desire has taken root in my heart. Elohim is not capricious. There is always a purpose to each of His actions. He has placed you here to work for now. You must do as he has directed you. Just as I must.”
“I will miss you, Emma.”
“We will see one another again, my son. I am confident this is not ‘goodbye’, merely a ‘fare well until we meet again.’”
Chapter Forty
Life in Yerushalayim moved much as it always had. Miriam worked, went to the Temple daily to pray, went to various homes for worship with the Christian ekklesia on the first day of each week, spent time praying at the tomb of her son, visited the tomb of her parents from time to time, and received all the visitors who came to her. She went nowhere alone. All three of Levi and Tamar’s daughters, Yael, Abigail, and Sephorra, went with her everywhere.
Miriam was happy for their company. Yochanan had been right, her hands hurt when she spun either wool or flax. Her hands didn’t hurt so much when she was at the loom. The girls were each skilled at spinning. With their working at the spinning, she could spend her working hours at her loom.
Still, a few aches and pains were to be expected as the body aged. But, she had much to be grateful for. She hadn’t developed the stooped back of so many elderly women. And while her hair had gone gray, it was still thick upon her head. She had all of her teeth, and those were sound. Her vision remained good. And her hearing, while not quite as acute as it once had been, was still good. So what if her knees protested if she had to get up from the ground or had to stand in one place for very long? She wasn’t a young woman.
One day, after sunset, Yosef of Arimathea called on her. “Emma,” he said without preamble, “tomorrow, carpenters in my employ are coming here to install a real bed for you.”
“I sleep, as I nearly always have, on a mat on the floor,” she answered.
“And I am informed that your knees protest loudly with creaks and pops when you rise in the mornings,” he said. “And that you are seen rubbing your knees as though they hurt you terribly.”
Miriam looked at her three companions, wondering which of them had told him this. They were the only ones who could have said anything. It bothered her that the girls would talk about her behind her back.
“The girls are merely concerned for you,” he said. “You must not be angry with them. They weren’t gossiping about you. I asked them what I could do to make your life more comfortable. That was when I was told this. They told me this because they love you and they know that I love you as well, Emma. We are concerned about you.”
“Take the money you would have spent on the bed and give it to the ekklesia for feeding the poor,” Miriam suggested. “That is a more urgent need than is coddling this old woman.”
“The bed is already paid for. It is already constructed. It will be delivered tomorrow; frame, mattress, and bedding.”
Miriam sighed. “Thank you, Yosef. You have always been considerate of me.”
“It is my pleasure to serve you, Emma.” Then he added the question, “You will use the bed?”
“Yes. You have gone out of your way to give this gift to me. I will use it. I am grateful for this gift.”
“It is an honor to care for you,” he replied. Then he pulled up his hood and left her home.
Miriam looked at the girls. She sighed. “You did what you thought was best. Thank you.”
Sepphora said, “Emma, when he asked, this was all we could think of that would be useful.”
“Yes, I can see that. In the future, will you please tell people that the best thing they can do for me is to help feed the poor?”
“The poor we will always have with us,” Yael said. “Your son, our Master, said this. But we will not always have you with us, Emma. Our duty is to help you.”
“And I love you for it,” Miriam said. “Now, come, let us pray together and then eat before we go to sleep. I am quite weary.”
The carpenters arrived at the third hour of the day. They left by noon after assembling the bed. It was beautiful wood, well made. Her Yosef had been such a craftsman. She felt such a pang of missing him that tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked those back and continued looking at the bed. The mattress was supported in the Roman style by woven strips of leather fastened to the frame by nails. The mattress on top of that
woven leather mat was a linen bag stuffed with matted wool and quilted to hold the matting in place. That mattress was covered by a linen sheet, and a blanket. Several feather filled cushions completed the bed. Miriam had them place the bed in the corner where she normally slept. The bed was so far off the floor that it came with a wooden step for her to use to climb into it.
“Well?” Yael asked. “Aren’t you going to sit on it? Tell us about how it feels?”
Miriam climbed up to sit on the bed. “It’s very comfortable. Did you think it would be otherwise?”
“Lie down and see if you will sleep there comfortably,” Sepphora urged.
Miriam complied. “Yes. It is very comfortable.” She yawned.
“Take a nap, Emma,” Abigail suggested. “You sound tired.”
Miriam sat up. “Nonsense, I will not sleep during the middle of the day, when we have things to do. Come, let us take a bit of food, then go make some deliveries of linens. We have the tablecloth and napkins for Anna’s daughter, as well as a burial shroud for Naomi’s father, who is not long for this world, to get to them.”
After making her deliveries, Miriam and the girls walked out to the tomb of Miriam’s parents. After praying there, they walked to the tomb that had briefly held her son. Miriam was aware of the group of men who had followed her out of Yerushalayim. She could see the girls were nervous, afraid.
As they walked, Miriam spoke to her companions, “They will not harm us, my daughters. Be easy.”
“Emma, they hate us. I can see that hatred in their eyes, in the set of their shoulders,” Abigail said.
“They hated my son. Is it any wonder that they should hate us?” Miriam replied. “But, they will not harm us. So, pay them no heed.”
At the tomb, Miriam stood, hands lifted in prayer. She heard the men approach. It sounded as though they were tapping their hands with clubs. Finishing her prayers, she turned to face the group. They each carried walking sticks, thick wooden rods that they were holding like clubs.