“Let me tell you a story,” Yeshua said. “A man was traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho when a band of robbers attacked him. They stripped him of his clothes and belongings, beat him, and left him for dead. A passing priest saw the man lying lifeless on the road and became frightened, so he crossed to the other side and continued on his way. A little while later, a man from the tribe of Levi walked by; like the priest, he crossed the road and looked the other way. But when a Samaritan arrived at the scene, he took pity on the dying man. He hauled the man up onto his donkey, took him to an inn, bandaged his wounds, and anointed him with wine and oil. When the Samaritan left the next day, he gave the innkeeper a few coins and asked him to nurse the patient back to health.”
Yeshua asked the Pharisee: “Which of these men do you think was a neighbor to the poor man?”
“The good fellow who showed him mercy, of course.”
Yeshua nodded. “Exactly. You see, spiritual love is like perfume. A man who anoints himself with fragrance also allows those around him to enjoy the scent. The Samaritan used nothing but wine and oil to heal the wound, and it worked because love heals any wrongdoing. Now, go and treat everyone you meet like a neighbor.”
One day, after a lesson on the slopes behind Capernaum, a merchant on his way to Damascus approached Yeshua.
“Teacher, your word is good, but I bring you a message of caution. I recently passed through Tiberias and heard Herod Antipas threaten to execute all rebels and vagrant preachers who cause disturbances. He mentioned your name.”
Yeshua frowned. Antipas, the man who had ordered the beheading of Yochanan.
“You must leave Galilee before it’s too late. His soldiers could already be on their way.”
Yeshua shrugged and forced a smile. Surely the merchant was exaggerating. Why would Antipas want him dead? He patted the man’s shoulder to reassure him that the tetrarch was not a threat.
But fear had taken root.
“Why don’t you go on a journey, my love?” Mariamne suggested when he told her. “Take some time. The fear of rebellion will have diminished by next spring, and then you can return in peace.”
Yeshua kissed her softly and enveloped her in his arms to repress his worries. He didn’t want to leave her. But perhaps she was right. Yeshua opened her robe and nuzzled her naked breasts. He needed to think about something else for a while.
Once again, Yeshua gathered his closest disciples to travel with him. Dressed in simple tunics, warm woolen mantles, and head scarves for protection from the cold winds, they hurried south along the eastern shore of the lake. This time, they didn’t stop to give speeches or heal the ailing. Instead, they moved as fast as they could to leave the territory that Herod Antipas governed.
When at last they reached Samaria, they set up camp for a few days. Yeshua lay awake at night, contemplating the canopy of stars above him as he had so many nights before. Why did God always keep him on the run? And if the body was just an illusion, why did he fear death? Abba and Kahanji had appeared in his dreams many times, as had Yochanan the Baptizer. They had convinced him that death did not exist. So why was he afraid?
Although he yearned for Mariamne’s touch, he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted, and he had commanded the women to sleep apart from the men. He had a destiny to fulfill, and time was running out. He looked at his sleeping companions. How peaceful they looked in the lavender light, innocent as lambs. What right did he have to bring them on this journey and place their lives in danger?
Yeshua strolled down to where the creek eddied into a pool. The moon cast long shadows on the ground and painted the water with eerie patterns from the date palm trees and thornbushes. He lowered himself into the pool and splashed his face with the cool water. Pema always said he could change his destiny and stay safe. But what about the others? He had to trust that God would protect them. Mariamne wanted to teach, and they all possessed enough knowledge to continue on their own. Was he unwittingly keeping his disciples from evolving, the way he had grown only after Kahanji had passed?
The hour had come to share his last crumbs of wisdom. He should leave Palestine soon. Alexandria could be an interesting place to visit. Or perhaps Thessalonica, where the winds were said to always blow fresh. Perhaps Mariamne would come with him. They could live simply, like normal couples. Have children…
Chapter Thirty-FOUR
Jerusalem, Judea, AD 30
The temple in Jerusalem rose majestically before him. Blinding white and shimmering like gold, it stretched toward the sky in a solid testament to God’s power. Yeshua paused as a shiver rose up his spine. The magnificence of the temple still made him dizzy. As a boy, the temple had changed his life forever. His first visit had confirmed his life’s purpose—to serve God, to study and teach. What had seemed impossible then had come to pass: he had spent his life learning. And now he was sharing his knowledge with his disciples. The circle was complete.
How wonderful they were, the men and women who accompanied him on this journey. Their faces glowed as they gazed up at King Solomon’s temple. Few of them had been in Jerusalem before, and nothing they had ever seen could compare, not even the grand fortress of Tiberias or the Herodian winter palace in Jericho.
In awestruck silence, they walked the path up to the eastern side of Jerusalem toward the temple hill. When Mariamne left with the other women to take their baths of purification, Yeshua’s heart trembled with affection. She bound him to this world.
Leaves and moss floated on the surface of the mikveh. Green and brown algae covered the plaster walls, as if the flow of living water was clogged and the pools had not been scrubbed in years. Yeshua hesitated before he stepped down the narrow stairs into the dark water. Submerged up to his shoulders, he splashed water on his face and neck while trying to ignore the stench. When at last the temple priest nodded his approval, Yeshua climbed out, wrung the water from his tunic, and stood in the sun to dry. Once, this ritual had felt sacred. After traveling the world, it seemed unnatural and forced.
“What’s the point of washing the outside of the cup?” he whispered to Yakov. “Don’t they know it’s inner cleanliness that matters?”
Refreshed and purified, Yeshua and his men made their way up the broad staircase into the outer courtyard where the women waited. But something was not right. The once serene temple court had turned into a raucous slaughterhouse. Hundreds of unblemished lambs, goats, oxen, and birds waited to give their lives in sacrifice for someone’s salvation. Merchants hawked the terrified animals at inflated prices, while money changers haggled over shekels, staters, denarii, and drachma in a bizarre spectacle. Yeshua’s heart pounded so hard, he thought it would explode. His inner voice told him to stay calm. He took a deep breath, but he couldn’t stay still. Instead, he darted up to the closest merchant and knocked over his cages that were piled one atop of another. As they crashed to the ground, the bars shattered and dozens of doves escaped into the sky.
“How dare you dishonor God’s house like this?” Yeshua cried. “This is a house of prayer, not a temple to Mammon!”
He rushed about the courtyard, knocking down tables, growling at anyone who tried to block him, and pushing people out of the way. His fury propelled him, made him move faster, made his body stronger. Like in a dream, he moved with the force of wind while everyone else stood still.
Then he stopped cold, panting, his head lowered while he caught his breath. Everyone stared at him as if he were insane. But he was not the one who had gone mad. They had.
His voice shaking, he addressed the crowd:
“What is this? Didn’t God tell you his temple should be a house of prayer?”
Yeshua gestured to the vendors and dealers. “You have made his temple a palace of blood. Of suffering.”
His companions closed up around him.
“Get out,” he shouted at the merchants, raising his fist. “If you have any respect for the Lord, leave this temple. Now.”
Yakov yanked him aside. “Yeshua,
what is happening? I have never seen you like this.”
Mariamne forced him to sit down in the shade of the colonnades and handed him a waterskin.
Still quaking, Yeshua gulped down the water, trying to calm his mind. He had never been this angry before. Bothered, yes, but not full-blown furious like a madman. He closed his eyes and listened to the voice inside him. Instead of yelling at the traders, he should have forgiven them. After all, were they not an apparition of his mind? They mirrored the part of him that was still bound to the material world—his yearning for fame and—more than anything else—his love for Mariamne.
At last, Yakov cleared his throat and said, “Salt is good, is it not?”
Everyone nodded.
Yeshua looked at his brother, full of love, and blessed him in his heart. His question was a cue for Yeshua to teach the daily lesson. Yakov gestured to him to continue, and Yeshua picked up the thread: “But if salt lost its taste, how would you restore it?”
“Do you mean salt is wisdom?” one of his disciples asked.
“Exactly. If the salt is diluted or mixed with sand, it will lose its flavor. And then it cannot be used for anything.”
Yeshua saw they understood his apology for having confused his love for God with attachment to the world. His anger had come not from his spiritual, godly self but from his selfish, worldly self.
“You see, this world is such: a married couple had to move from one house to another. In the process of moving, they dropped a couple of jars, spilling their contents. But the wife didn’t mind the loss because many flawless jars remained. Like this couple, we must all learn to ignore that which is not perfect in our lives and celebrate what is complete. Keep your salt pure and nothing else will matter.”
His listeners breathed easier, recognizing the teacher they knew and loved.
“My brothers and sisters, you must always support those who stumble. Extend a hand to anyone who is sick. Feed the hungry and offer a place of rest to the weary. Awaken those who wish to arise, and shake up those who are sleeping, because each of you holds the wisdom of God.”
Mariamne moved to stand next to him, and Yeshua’s heart beat a little faster. He dropped his hand to his side, gently touching hers.
“Your inner being is what is important, not matters outside you. Forget about sacrifices—God purifies you through good deeds, not the killing of innocent animals. Don’t dwell on the past, and don’t encourage the demons of selfishness and materialism, because you have already banished them. What stands in your way will collapse on its own if you don’t give it attention. And always, always follow God’s commandments, because you are one with him.”
Other pilgrims had joined the small group and leaned in, trying to hear what was being said. Yeshua waved them closer. Maybe they wouldn’t understand all he said, but the intention would enter their hearts and kindle the light of God.
The next morning, after a night under the stars near Bethany, Yeshua returned to the temple with his companions, eager to immerse himself in joy and be kind to one and all. The merchants and moneylenders had reappeared, once again shouting their prices for all to hear, but today it didn’t infuriate him. Instead, he smiled at them and he forgave them.
As Yeshua brought his disciples close for the daily lesson, a priest pushed his way into the crowd, his face flushed with anger. He grabbed Tau’ma by the shoulders and shook him. “Who granted you authority to lecture in the temple?”
Yeshua approached the priest and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Teacher, I believe you are looking for me.”
The priest glanced in confusion from Tau’ma’s face to Yeshua’s, and back again, as if wondering which one of them was the radical who had raised hell in the temple the previous day.
“Yes, you,” the priest said, regaining his composure. He poked his finger into Yeshua’s chest. “Who granted you authority to tell people that God has no need for animal sacrifice?”
“Your holiness, forgive me, but it was God. Yahweh gave me the authority.”
The priest’s face darkened, and beads of sweat formed on his brow. “It was God? Blasphemer! Who do you think you are—a priest? Leave my temple now. Get out!”
Just like Yeshua had raged at the merchants and money changers the previous day, this priest wanted to throw him out of God’s abode. Yeshua closed his eyes and centered on his heart chakra, sending waves of love and forgiveness toward the man before him. Of course the priests were furious. The sacrificed animals fed the entire priesthood. Remove the tradition and they would go hungry. He opened his eyes, looked straight at the priest, and said, “God granted you a special role with his people. Don’t you understand that the only way to earn their respect is by showing them the same respect? Treat them as equals.”
Yeshua turned to face his disciples.
“Some of you have wondered about the difference between this world and the Kingdom of God,” he said, fully aware that the priest was listening. “It’s simple. All parts of this world—all elements of nature—are interwoven. Everything is of God. What is composed will decompose, and one day everything will return to its origins.”
A few children had approached their group, and the disciples shifted to make space for them.
“It is the attachment to physical things—and people—that creates passion, and that passion causes problems between your mind and your body. That’s why you should always stay harmonious. When you feel out of balance, close your eyes and listen inside. Your true nature will inspire you, if you have ears to hear.”
More people approached, and Yeshua waved them in.
“Peace be with you. All of you,” he said, nodding at the priest. “Let serenity rise in you and fill you up. But stay cautious; don’t be misled by someone claiming ‘Here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ You don’t need anyone else to show you the truth. All the wisdom you need is inside you. God is alive inside all of you.”
With a smile, Yeshua nodded at the priest and turned to leave the temple, followed by his disciples and dozens of new listeners. He would continue the lesson on the temple stairs outside.
“Be wary of the Pharisees and Sadducees,” Yeshua said when he resumed the lesson in a tranquil place away from the crowds. “Some of them don’t understand that the law has been distorted for the sake of tradition. Forgive them in your hearts, but stay aware that although they pride themselves on their knowledge of scripture, they will do anything to call attention to themselves. See how some parade around in flowing robes and demand to be greeted as holy men. They take important seats at banquets and in synagogues. They tie heavy loads onto people’s backs and then do nothing to help. They don’t know that the most valuable teacher lives within each of us. He who praises himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be praised.”
The new listeners nodded in agreement, and Yeshua’s heart filled with gratitude. These people were hungry for a new message. Though they had spent their lives looking for God, they remained empty and unfulfilled.
“Look how the priests shut the gate of God’s temple in your faces. Because they don’t know how to enter God’s Kingdom, they want to make sure no one else enters.” Yeshua smiled. “They are like blind men with blind hearts leading the blind.”
But later, sorrow clouded his heart. Why could he never be quiet? He shouldn’t have insulted the priests. They held considerable power in Jerusalem and had connections to Herod Antipas. What if they took their anger out on his disciples? Or what if they harassed Tau’ma again, thinking he was Yeshua? How far would they go?
That night at dinner, Yeshua noticed that Mariamne kept her distance. Ever since they had entered Jerusalem, young women had tried to catch his eye, winking at him, drawing near to him, even touching him. Yeshua had tried to treat them with the same respect as any of the men, but Mariamne must have noticed.
All he wanted was to reach out and kiss her. It had been weeks since they had made love, and he missed the smell of her hair, the feel
of her dewy skin, and the way she pressed her soft curves against his body. Tonight, he decided, he would take a walk with her after the others had gone to sleep. Perhaps they would find a place to lie down together. He needed her more than ever.
Yeshua took a sip of pomegranate juice and stood up to speak. His time with this group of disciples was coming to an end. In one or two more days, he had to move on and leave them to continue his teachings elsewhere. The room seemed to spin at the thought of what was to come, and he had to hold on to the edges of his mat to steady himself.
“My brothers and sisters, I have told you many things, but I want you to remember this: God’s Kingdom is like a head of grain in the field. When the grain ripens, the wind scatters its seeds all over the fields. The seeds sprout, and the next spring, the fields are filled again with many new heads of grain. And so it is that every seed you sow will multiply into dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of enlightened beings. Will you, please, always continue to plant and harvest the grain so that God’s Kingdom may be shared with others?”
Kephas grinned at him, his mouth askew, as he always did when he was close to falling asleep. A bubble of saliva played between his lips.
“As sons of God,” Yeshua continued, “your words will reach far into other lands. But wherever you go, never allow God’s Kingdom to dry out and become a desert within you. When your light touches others, treat them as I have treated you, with love and devotion.”
The sounds from nearby Bethany stirred in the cloudy night: clattering of hooves on stony roads, boisterous singing, drunken brawls, and ardent prayers. Yeshua observed his faithful companions with a love that knew no bounds; they were the reason he could leave his homeland once again. Tonight, he would ask Mariamne to travel to Alexandria with him. One more day teaching at the temple, a final dinner with his disciples before Pesach, and then he would start walking. Again. His life had been one of steady movement. Why stop now? Why not spend the remaining years of his life in a place where nobody knew him? He had fulfilled his duty and served his Heavenly Father every day of his life. Perhaps now he could take up carpentry again and make his earthly father proud.
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