“We’re drowning! Oh, Mother, save me!” the men screamed, their faces white with terror.
“No! You will not die. Close your eyes. Do it! Envision a calm sea.”
If only they would trust him on the water as they did on land.
“I can’t! I can barely hold on to the stern.”
“Close your eyes. Now!” But the wind muted his voice, and they couldn’t hear him.
Yeshua held on to the mast, closed his eyes, and visualized a quiet lake with gentle waves lapping against the boat. He imagined a tranquil scene with all the details, scents, and sounds until he believed it was real.
A soft breeze touched his cheek. The boat rolled less and less until at last it quieted completely. When Yeshua opened his eyes, he saw the fishermen still clutching the sides of the vessel, still begging for their lives to be spared. Then, one by one, they realized that the storm had passed.
“Master, how did you do that?”
Yeshua wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“You must have faith, that’s all.” He looked from one to the other. “With faith, you can accomplish anything.”
After dragging their boat onto the shore, the fishermen rushed to tell everyone what had happened. The crowd gathered around Yeshua as he helped store the empty nets, their awe of him renewed.
Good, Yeshua thought. Maybe now they’ll listen.
In the height of autumn, Mariamne and the other disciples returned, rife with enthusiasm. They spoke of their adventures and the miracles they had performed. They told Yeshua how people were hungry for the good news, and that many wanted to come to Capernaum and hear him speak.
Everything was going according to plan, until one day, Yakov and Tau’ma came running into camp, their eyes wide with alarm. “They’ve arrested Cousin Yochanan, the Baptizer!”
Yeshua took his brothers aside. “Who has arrested Yochanan?” he asked.
“Herod Antipas,” Yakov said, his perpetual grin replaced by horror. “We just heard. He’s gone absolutely mad.”
“But why? I mean, what did Yochanan do?”
Tau’ma covered his eyes with his hands to hide his tears. “Antipas heard that Yochanan was using him as a bad example, that he said that only the most miserable sinner could marry his half-brother’s wife.”
“And for that they arrested him?”
Yakov pressed his palm against his forehead. “For that they noticed him. And saw what an extensive following he has. I don’t know; maybe they heard all those whispers of a coming Messiah? It wouldn’t surprise me if those fools thought Yochanan was a rebel in disguise, waiting to lead the Yehudim in revolt against the Romans.”
“But he’s a Nazirite, a man of peace. He wouldn’t hurt a spider.”
Tau’ma looked at Yeshua. “It was his stepdaughter, the daughter of Herodias. She asked for Yochanan’s head on a platter.”
Yeshua flinched. Would they execute Yochanan on the whim of a girl?
“Antipas threw a lavish party, as he likes to do, to celebrate his new marriage. And he invited all the prominent Romans. That filthy fox probably just wanted to show off his stepdaughter, make his guests drool. Of course, they adored her dancing and all.” Tau’ma closed his eyes and shivered at the thought. “That imbecile! Antipas was so drunk with pride he told his stepdaughter she could have anything she wanted as a reward. Anything in the world.”
“And that’s what she asked for, Yochanan’s head?”
Yakov nodded.
“Surely Antipas won’t go through with it.”
“Then you don’t know the chief of Galilee—he’s a snake. He even pretends to be a Yehudi, just to fit in. He celebrates Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkoth—all our holy days. He can’t be trusted.” Yakov shook his head. “Yeshua, he made the promise in front of everyone. He won’t take it back.”
Yeshua’s heart pounded. “I’ll go and demand his release!” He reached for his bundle of clothing, determined to set out toward Tiberias that very moment, but Yakov held him back.
“It’s too late; he’s gone.”
Yeshua’s knees buckled beneath him. He couldn’t not do something. Tears welled up in his eyes. Frustrated, he kicked a pebble into the lake, barely missing a waterfowl. Yochanan had never harmed anyone. Why did this evil woman want him dead? What kind of person was she?
“Forgive her.” The voice in his head rang as clear as morning dew. “Fear and anger imprison you. Forgiveness sets you free.”
But he couldn’t forgive—not yet. He doubled up in pain and sank to the ground. A whimper rose up his throat. Yochanan, his dear cousin, was going to be killed because of a false rumor, because of a frivolous young girl.
Yeshua had to get away. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. He didn’t want their pity. And he definitely didn’t want them to see his anger and the numbing sadness that crippled him.
Alone by the shore, he allowed himself to weep. He cried, screamed, and spoke to God, raging with fury, asking for forgiveness, until all tears were gone and a feeling of peace settled within him.
His disciples had followed him at a safe distance. They believed in him. They knew he would forgive. Yeshua took a deep breath. Yes, he would. He would forgive not only Herod Antipas but also his stepdaughter. Yochanan would find his place in God’s Kingdom, and he would guide his flock from there. There was no doubt that Yochanan had agreed to his fate. Everything happened for a reason, exactly the way it should.
Darkness had fallen. A couple of bonfires lit up the sky where his followers had set up a temporary camp between Kheresa and Hippos.
“What shall we do?” Mariamne asked when Yeshua finally joined them. “We didn’t bring anything from Capernaum. We don’t have enough to feed everyone. Perhaps we should send someone to Kheresa to find some food. Surely someone will give us some bread or fruit.”
Yeshua caressed her cheek. “No, my love. What we have is enough.”
“But there are more than three dozen of us, and look—we have only one loaf of bread.”
“Stay calm, my love. Let me show you.”
Yeshua took the loaf of bread from her and raised it to the sky.
“Lord, thank you for the plentiful meal. Let each of us go to sleep tonight both full and satisfied.”
He divided the bread into small pieces and walked around to his followers, handing every person a small chunk of bread. “Eat this,” he said as he placed the food in their hands. “This will fill you up.”
Everyone stared at him. They usually ate well at night and wondered how a small piece of bread could be enough. But Yeshua was patient. If they trusted him, they would notice their hunger waver and dissipate.
“How did you do that?” Yakov asked after everyone had eaten.
“Easy. You create your reality. How do you make love and produce a child? How do you plant a seed and grow a tree? How do you think of someone and the next moment have them appear by your door? Anything is possible.”
“Anything?”
“Yes. Anything.”
Yeshua looked out over the crowd. These men and women had given up everything to follow him and learn all he knew. Just like Yochanan’s disciples. What would happen to them now? Had they learned enough to survive on their own?
“Among all men,” Yeshua said, choking back tears, “beginning with Adam, there have been few as wise as the Baptizer. Yet if you become as innocent as a child and discover the world that exists beyond what your eyes can see, you will be as wise as he. When you understand that light and dark, life and death, right and left are one and the same. Inseparable. Life is not life, and death is not death.”
Yeshua left the group, unable to speak further. He took Mariamne by the hand, and together they walked away to seek privacy. The moon stood full above them, casting long shadows as they sought a place to lie down along the pebbled shore.
“Did we meet because we believed?” she asked.
Yeshua kissed her, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine in her hair. She was his guiding st
ar. She shone with the light of both Ramaa and Pema. And if she left, her spirit would appear in yet another woman.
The news of Yochanan’s arrest and death stirred Capernaum. The Pharisees and Sadducees used the event to correct anyone who veered from Yehudi law and took every opportunity to harass Yeshua for his unconventional teaching.
“Why do you not obey the laws of our ancestors?” they asked. “How dare you not respect the Sabbath? And people say you no longer fast during Yom Kippur.”
Yeshua broke bread with every person who came to complain. If he could explain why his disciples acted one way or another, surely they would understand and leave them be.
“I haven’t come to abolish the law but to fulfill it,” he said. “I aim to remind my brothers and sisters to love God and one another. Because it’s what’s in your heart that makes you righteous or impure. An unhappy heart breeds immoral thoughts, and those thoughts can cause a man to slander, lie, or even murder. Those are the things that matter. But whether you nourish your body or fast on a holy day—it doesn’t change the way God views you.”
The local tax collector also found reason to bother them. “Have you paid the temple dues?” he asked.
Yeshua scratched his head. Everyone knew his group didn’t have an income. They lived in simple tents and never visited the temple.
“Very well,” Yeshua said after a long pause, and he nodded to Yudah to bring the treasurer’s pouch. “Why don’t we give Caesar what belongs to Caesar.” He took out a bronze coin and gave it to the tax collector. “Now you must give God what belongs to God.”
“But I do not serve your God. I serve my country and my emperor.”
“Yes. Indeed. But isn’t it written in the law that you must love your neighbor as you love yourself? Many of your brethren, sons of Abraham, are dying from cold and hunger. Every night you return to a warm and comfortable home filled with fine goods, and you give nothing to the needy.”
Yeshua invited the tax collector to sit with him on the raw linen cushions filled with straw. He handed his guest a cup of pomegranate juice.
“You see, my friend, the Kingdom of God is like a wealthy merchant who found a pearl of immeasurable value in the market. He was clever. He knew what he had seen was more precious than all his belongings combined, so he sold everything he owned and bought the pearl. Like this merchant, you must abandon the worldly treasures and seek the precious wealth inside you that neither moth nor worm can destroy.”
“I don’t seek prosperity—”
“If you aren’t searching for God’s treasure, you’re only holding on to what is old and worn and will one day wither to dust.”
Yeshua patted the man’s shoulder as he got up to leave. “I always keep a jug of fresh juice handy. Whenever you’re in Capernaum, why don’t you stop by?”
The tax collector did come back. In the beginning, he pretended to come for taxes, but after a while he no longer cared to feign the purpose of his visits. He came to hear Yeshua’s message.
Some of the newer members protested. “Master, how can you invite a sinner into our midst? We have done everything we can to become worthy to enter the Kingdom. And now you treat a greedy man who has sold his soul to the Romans as our equal?”
Yeshua called them close. “If you respect only those who act in accordance with God’s will, does that make you a good person?”
The new initiates blushed. Everyone had turned to watch them.
“If you embrace only your brothers and sisters, does that make you better than a tax collector? If you lend money only to those who will repay you, what credit is that to you? Even the most dishonorable people give money to their own kind because they expect something in return.
“If we treat everyone well, both friends and foes, our reward will be greater than you can ever imagine. God lets his sun rise on the evil as well as the righteous. And he sends rain to both the just and the unjust. He loves us all.”
Yeshua put his arm around the tax collector’s shoulders.
“Those who put themselves on a pedestal are easily humiliated. Only those who humble themselves will be blessed.”
Chapter Thirty-THREE
Lake Kinneret, Galilee, AD 29
Yeshua and his closest disciples continued their visits to the villages around Lake Kinneret, where they taught simple lessons to anyone who was ready to receive. Now he understood why Arcahia and Udraka had been reluctant to let their students speak during their first months of the pilgrimage to Benares. A teacher had to use the correct words and speak with authority, because listeners decided in a blink whether they believed Yeshua and his companions were messengers of God.
One afternoon they returned to Capernaum to find a crowd assembled outside their camp. A man had brought his son to be healed, but a couple of Pharisees were blocking them from entering the main tent.
Yeshua placed his hands on the Pharisees’ shoulders. “What, may I ask, are you arguing about?”
“Master, help me,” the man pleaded. “My son is possessed.”
In his arms, he held a writhing boy, whose eyes had rolled back in his head and who snarled like a demon. Foam gathered at the corners of the little boy’s mouth.
“I brought him here to be healed, but it seems no one can help him.”
Yeshua gestured to the Pharisees to step back. “Give him to me,” he said, and cradled the boy. He turned to Mariamne. “Make a potion of lobelia, valerian root, and chamomile.”
He removed his mantle and laid the shaking boy down, placing his hands on top of the child’s head. Then he filled the boy’s soul with healing energy. Slowly, the seizures subsided as the energy replenished his strength. And after a few sips of the healing liquid, he drifted into deep and peaceful sleep.
One of Yeshua’s disciples approached him, his chin quivering.
“Master, we tried everything. We did exactly what you taught us. I don’t understand why we couldn’t drive out the demon.”
Tired from the long walk, Yeshua sat down, took off his sandals, and rubbed his feet. He looked up at the freckle-faced adolescent.
“Where is your faith? Even if it were as small as a mustard seed, you could tell a mountain to move—and it would. How can I help you understand you are one with God?”
The youngster blinked uncertainly. Yeshua picked up a child who toddled nearby and set him on his lap.
“Unless you become like this little one, you will never be able to heal others. Forget everything you think is real. You must look at the world through a child’s eyes and believe that anything is possible.”
Some of the other disciples had also tried to heal the boy and had failed. Yeshua feared they would become disillusioned and lose faith, so he called the most discouraged together for a special lesson.
“Believe me when I say you are all powerful beings. You are sons of God. Why do you still doubt this? The spirit of God exists within you—he has always been there. Follow him.”
“How?” one of the skeptics asked. “We obey the laws of the Torah, we follow your teachings, and we use healing energy, but still we couldn’t heal the boy. Is it because we are sinful?”
“No. And forget about sin. What sin means is that you are so attached to the physical world, you don’t realize that what you see before you is an illusion. You believe you are separated from others, from God. If you look at the world with the eyes of your soul, you will see that we are all one. It’s this separation that is the sin. Once you awaken and understand that nothing you see with your physical eyes is real, the hidden will be revealed.”
Despite the frosty mornings, Yeshua still took cleansing baths and meditated by the lake before the rest of the camp awoke. Some days Mariamne joined him; more often he relished the solitude. In prayer, he connected with all the teachers who had influenced his life: Abba, Cousin Yochanan, Kahanji, Arcahia, and Pema. Like five trees of wisdom, they remained as alive and active within him as if they had been there in person.
Your purpose in life is t
o teach as many as possible, he heard them say. Open their eyes and show them the path to God’s Kingdom. When you are gone, your light will shine on through them.
Walking back to the encampment after speaking to his teachers, Yeshua always felt filled with new determination. By now his flock had grown to nearly fifty and many of his followers had already glimpsed the Kingdom; they had become gifted healers and teachers in their own right. They believed in his message, and once Yeshua taught them how to suppress hunger and to trust that food would appear when needed, they embraced the ascetic lifestyle.
Above all, Mariamne spurred him to continue. Her luminous smile still made his knees weak. After days of walking, helping fishermen clean their nets, teaching, and answering endless questions, he cuddled up with her in their tent and all the troubles of the world vanished. She was everything he needed, and so much more. She never complained about the time he spent with others. She didn’t blink if he walked off with another woman. She trusted him completely. And she understood what he was trying to do. Sometimes Yeshua wished she were a man so he could send her off to preach on her own; it would double their effort. But if she were a man, he couldn’t kiss her and make sweet love to her.
She was perfect just the way she was.
In the Galilean villages, Yeshua still mostly spoke in parables to appeal to as many as possible.
“Teacher,” a Pharisee asked one day, “what must I do to attain everlasting life?”
Yeshua smiled, always pleased when priests partook in his lessons. “You study the Torah. You must know the answer to that question.”
“Well, the Law says I must love God with all my heart, body, strength, and mind. And to love my neighbor as dearly as I love myself.”
“That’s true, my friend. Do that, and you will never face death.”
“But Master, if you will, who are those neighbors? Are they the people of my village? Or is a ‘neighbor’ anyone who lives in Galilee? Surely it cannot be the Romans or the gentiles.”
The Transmigrant Page 25