It had taken him time to see it but finally Judas had realised that Jesus was not the Messiah. For revolution and war were not accomplished by a man deliberate in his desire to change nothing, but to leave all men free.
The other disciples spoke of Jesus as the Son of Man. They spoke of how he had fed thousands, how he had quietened storms and produced otherworldly transfigurations of his being. Judas had seen nothing and yet he had been with them always. How could they have seen what he had not? He supposed that they had seen dreams…only dreams…and even now none of them could see what he could see: that even in his body, once so youthful and strong, Jesus was less vigorous and obviously headed for decay, like a wasted old man.
But something more had stirred his hate and made his rebellious spirit rip at his soul, a fire-laden desire had grown in Judas for the woman whom Jesus had named Magdalena.
From the first he had disliked her brother, the Hellenistic youth, Lazarus, whose life was lived in luxury and privilege and whose soul was the opposite of his. However in Magdalena, Judas had sensed something akin to his own restlessness, a soul full of dammed up passions. But it was not only her soul that drew him, the woman’s unparalleled beauty had also stirred his loins, a beauty that betrayed her attempts to mortify it, or to conceal it. For no matter how many veils the woman wore or how coarse was the garment draped over her shoulders a fundamental note of allure was plucked from the instruments of his manhood each time he saw her and he would have the song played in full!
Each night his daily thoughts rose up into the ecstasy of dreams full of the consummation of their mutual passion. In his dreams she had wanted him with a near crazed desperation, which had fired his virility and turned the seed inside him and churned the waters of his soul.
During those long months apart from her, when the women were sent to Bethany for their safety and the disciples were sent out, two by two into the villages to announce the coming of the Kingdom, Judas’ desire had matured and curdled in the darkness of his soul. So much so that by the time he had returned to the rich youth’s house with the other disciples, it had sought, by any means, to find its satisfaction. What dread force of hate had he felt then on finding that in his absence a love had grown between Magdalena and Jesus? A love that others said was warm and calm of heart, full of wide spheres and generous pastures – a love that cared nothing for itself but sought only the welfare of the other.
A love he did not understand!
He suffered when he saw how Magdalena’s eyes were full of devotion for a man who would never take her in his arms and ignite her womanly passions.
Even Simon-Peter had seen it, and had asked Jesus, ‘Why do you love her more than all of us?’
‘Think of it like this, Peter,’ Jesus had told him, ‘I am the light of the world and your soul receives my light, my love, according to its capacity to see and to receive it. Magdalena’s soul has more capacity than yours, and for this reason she receives more love than you.’
Judas, blinded by anger, schemed and schemed.
Many of the disciples were simple fishermen and they did not know that Jesus had in the past months revealed secrets of initiation to ordinary people. The betrayal of these secrets was punishable by death and it was for this reason that the Pharisees and Sadducees sought vehemently to find witness of it. Judas would use this to his advantage, an advantage that became clearer at Perea where Jesus finally unveiled his reason for leaving his ailing favourite, Lazarus, behind.
When Jesus told his worried disciples that Lazarus’ sickness was not unto death, but only a sleep, that his sleep was for the glory of God, Judas put two and two together. Lazarus was not dying but undergoing an initiation, and this was the reason why Jesus waited a day before returning to Bethany, since the initiation must last three days.
Jesus wanted to make a show of his power near to Jerusalem, not those powers that had made possible the raising of the dead boy at Nain, but something higher. Jesus would show to all men what lived only in the deepest recesses of the mystery temples: the raising of an initiate from the tomb, from the underworld of the dead!
Everything now made sense. Throughout their time in Perea when Jesus spoke of the good shepherd who gives life to his sheep he was pointing to himself as the priest who is the awakener of initiates. When he had spoken of other sheep which were not of the fold but which the shepherd must bring forth with a call he had been speaking of Lazarus. But when Jesus had said that he and the Father were one, Judas recognised these as mystery words. Words that meant a priest was ready to use the forces of the Father, that is, the forces of his will to awaken the body of an initiate and to raise him from his temple sleep.
No man came to the Father, that is, no man returned to the physical body from the three-day initiation sleep except through a priest!
Jesus was not a priest! This would be enough to destroy him.
Now, when they came near Bethany, some furlongs from the township, they passed that desolate place of burial where tombs are set into the walls of the hills. Here, near what they called The House of Rest, many men stood mourning without their women, as was the custom. The sun was near gone over the land and made long shadows of those dry hills when the mourners turned to see Jesus and rushed to tell him of Lazarus. Soon Andrew was sent to fetch Martha and the woman came, in her drab attire of lament, with her face the colour of ashes.
She fell at Jesus’ feet and told him that Lazarus was dead. She said that had Jesus had been here he could have prevented his death by performing a miracle. She said her sister Magdalena was full of grief and was sitting as still as death in the house waiting for him to come.
Judas watched Jesus carefully. His face showed pain for her sorrow and something other, which he could not discern. Jesus told Martha that Lazarus was not dead, for he was the resurrection and the life and all who believed in him though they were dead would live. After that she fell on her knees and affirmed that he was Christ, the Son of God.
He said to her, ‘Tell Magdalena I call her. That she must arise, for I need her by my side.’
Martha took herself away and many came to gather around, speculating as to what Jesus might do next, but Judas was taken by something else that emerged from out of the sun’s vanishing luminance – the figure of Magdalena.
Judas saw only her tearful face gazing out from her mourning veil. And what a face it was! Arresting, inscrutable! His blood made skips in his veins. He was restless. He waited for her to glance his way. He beckoned her to look just once.
The women of the town, those who had followed Magdalena’s steps, came upon the place where Jesus now stood with his disciples. They wept and pulled at their clothes while Magdalena fell at Jesus’ feet – without so much as a fidget of glance in Judas’ direction.
He waited. Quiet fell over the day, save the groaning and moaning of the mourners.
‘Had you been here my brother would not have died!’ she said to him. But her words were spoken differently, for in them Judas noted a tone of thankfulness that Jesus had not come sooner! Could these be tears of joy?
When Jesus saw this he raised Magdalena’s chin with his hand and Judas saw then what passed between them, and this awakened in him a realisation. Rage and discontent surged through him and he could taste gall in his spit. He wanted to howl like an animal for the anguish of it – not only for its intimacy, which must be clear to all, but also for its complicity, since he now understood that Magdalena was in some way entangled in Lazarus’ initiation.
His bowels were full of thorns.
‘Where have you laid him?’ Jesus asked her, his voice soft and tender, his eyes veiled with tears.
Judas knew that he was harnessing a force of love in his heart, a force that would raise his pupil from his death trance. Even those who were not his disciples sensed it, and said, ‘Look how Jesus loves Lazarus!’
Magdalena showed Jesus a grave that was covered with a great round stone.
Would Jesus do it now? Judas leaned his
mind in his direction, daring him to do it.
Jesus walked to the grave and paused before it. Looking troubled he turned and his eyes fell on Judas. Judas felt a gasp come. Could Jesus have discerned the nature of his thoughts? But Jesus, for his part, was now telling those gathered around to take away the stone blocking the grave.
Martha was alarmed, ‘But Lord! By this time there will be a smell, for he has been dead near four days.’
Jesus said to her, ‘Martha, did I not just say to you that if you believed you would see God glorified in Lazarus?’
Martha lowered her eyes, ‘Yes, Lord.’
When the men rolled away the heavy stone and returned to the crowds the people put the corners of their garments about their faces to fend off the smell. But there was no smell.
Jesus raised his eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you. That my word is one with you in spirit, and that you hear me always, but because of the people who stand by, I will say it out loud, that they too might hear how the Word, your Son, is in me, so that they might believe that you have sent Him to me and that through Him you and I are one!’
Judas knew that by saying this Jesus wished to reveal how in himself lived the Word, the Son of the Father, which he would make enter into Lazarus’ soul to awaken him.
‘Lazarus come forth!’ resounded the forbidden words.
Nature drew a breath. Above, came the sound of a great eagle making its noises as it rose upwards over the mountains, circling the skies and falling away into the melting sun of day’s end. The world followed it and Judas also followed it as it soared aloft and died away. A thought, foreign to his experience, now crossed his mind: why could he not be like that bird, basking in the light of the sun with hopeful abandon? Why must he live always like a scorpion fearing the sun?
But this self-understanding was short-lived, for upon hearing a round of gasps his concentration was now returned to witness the beloved of Jesus, the initiate, coming from out of the black mouth of the cave bound with graveclothes.
‘Loosen him and let him go!’ Jesus told the women.
Martha, shocked, remained behind. Only Magdalena went to Lazarus to help. After that Jesus was thronged by all those who had come to the burial place, and was swept away to Bethany, but not before turning once more to look upon Judas.
That glance made a path clear from Judas’ head to his heart. He understood now that he was standing upon the soil of freedom, between his hope and his fear. Here, it seemed to him, was a last occasion to love this man, to love him despite his urge to betray him, to recognise his greatness despite his impulse to follow his destiny.
But he could not.
The eyes, multi-coloured and endless-deep, held and held him until they held no more. Gasping, with his head turning in circles, Judas was let go and he sat upon a rock to get his breath back. It was a long moment before he could rise again and make his way to Bethany with his eyes tethered to the ground.
High above him the eagle scooped wind with its wings and circled him. Its eye ranged the sky…its gaze was upon him, unblinking, open, shut, perfect…but Judas did not see it.
Instead he told himself, ‘The time for pruning has come!’
54
ANOINTING
What happened after that?’ I asked as if finished off the last words.
‘Well, after his raising Lazarus did not follow his master to Ephraim with the other disciples but remained behind at Bethany with his sisters. He needed quiet, a time to recover. Don’t forget, pairé, he had just returned from the realm of death and had to accustom himself to living in the world again.’
‘What did he see in that realm of death, Lea, can you tell me?’
‘In that realm he stood before Christ wearing only the loin-cloth of his soul and Christ baptised him with fire and He gave him a new name.’
‘A new name?’
‘Yes…he named him, John…’
‘Why another John, when there are so many?’
‘Because the finest and most noble essence of John the Baptist would live with Lazarus from that time on, so that the two would be like one, and those who recognised this union called him Lazarus-John, or the apostle John.’
‘The Apostle John! The writer of our Gospel?’
‘Yes, pairé.’
I was astounded, speechless, overcome! I could not believe it! I took myself to the window to look out at the black night. ‘But Lea, I had always thought that John was little John of Zebedee!’
‘The difference between John the apostle and John the Evangelist,’ she instructed me, ‘will not be understood for a long time, pairé. But you will soon see how little John of Zebedee will allow Lazarus-John to replace him in the circle of followers. Even so, because of his selflessness, he will still maintain his place in the circle, through Lazarus-John.’
‘So that is how the chain of love was bound between all Manicheans to John and his Gospel? John had once been Lazarus! Lazarus and the young man of Nain, who became Mani, had been united in common purpose by Christ!’
‘Shall I go on?’ Lea asked.
‘Please…’ I said. Coming back to the bench I took the quill in one hand and put the other hand to my mouth, lest my heart leap out.
‡
Among these strange and awesome transformations, Lazarus-John felt as if a drop of divinity had fallen from out of Christ and had entered into his own being. The prophecy of Photismos, his teacher, had come true after all – the Word that had once overshone his soul from above, did indeed now shine from inside him out to the world so that he could say: not I, but the Christ in me.
It was six days before the Feast of Passover and he was taken with this knowing, as he helped his sisters prepare a supper for Christ Jesus and his disciples. They had only just returned to Bethany from Ephraim. On their arrival, his master had seemed full of exhaustion and had spent most of the day in meditation. Lazarus understood that he was preparing himself for his final entry into Jerusalem and this would initiate all that would come after. And as Lazarus-John looked about him now at the faces of the other disciples, it was plain to see how fear had laid a grip on their souls because of it.
But he no longer felt fear, for he had died and had returned to life altered. In particular, his nights and days had lost their meaning. The hours passed unbroken by sleep, so that in the course of an unfolding day he could see, overlayed upon it, the fulfilment of the heavenly pattern he had seen in the night. This understanding of above and below made his vision threefold: he could see not only the present moment, but what had led to it from the past and what it would bring about in the future.
This peculiar knowledge cancelled out any notion of fear.
But Lazarus-John was never more aware that among his master’s dearest disciples there were varying degrees of understanding. There were those who struggled to see beyond Jesus, the master who stood before them in a body that was crumbling and turning to dust. Then again there were those who had risen only to an imperfect understanding of Christ. In truth, he knew that in the future this would spawn great conflicts and men would argue as to the divinity of Jesus and the humanity of Christ and that many would die because of it. If only those who were closest to him could understand this perfect marriage of God and Man in its fullness, perhaps these conflicts might never come.
However, Lazarus-John knew he had been raised for this very reason – because those around his master had failed to recognise the God in the Man. Lazarus would be the witness. He would be the only one to tell of both the earthly Jesus and the heavenly Christ.
When the meal was over and the women had come into the room to listen a quiet fell over the evening. Lazarus-John observed how Judas’ eye fell upon his sister Magdalena. She was kneeling before Christ Jesus preparing to anoint his feet with pure nard and to wipe them with her hair. The perfume filled the room with a sad blessing and made the air glow with warmth but it cast a shadow over Judas’ face. His blood was boiling, and his anger was poorly hidden.
; ‘Why does this wasteful woman not sell that ointment?’ he blurted out. ‘It would fetch more than three hundred silver coins for the poor, that’s enough to feed a farmer for a year!’
Lazarus-John entered with his spirit into Judas and saw what was made plain by his words: his lustful heart.
Christ Jesus looked up. ‘Why do you trouble her, Judas?’ he said, gently. ‘You have the poor with you always. Whenever you wish to serve them, you may do so. But you do not have me always! See how the heart of this woman is full of service? Death comes, my brothers, and when it comes I shall be anointed and ready because of this woman. She alone is capable of uniting me further with the God in me so that I may go to my death in the right way. That is why, whenever this day is spoken of, this woman will be remembered for having loved me more than the worth of this costly ointment!’
Judas looked around at the other disciples, flying daggers from his eyes, but found no support for his outburst, not even from Simon-Peter, who did not like Magdalena. And so it was Judas put a morsel in his mouth and let it go. But Lazarus-John saw how crowded was the air around him with dark shadows and he knew that in freedom Judas had chosen to hate.
55
THE PUPIL
It was the afternoon of the 12th of Nissan, a time when Pilgrims and natives of Jerusalem were accustomed to come to the temple to mingle happily in the Court of the Gentiles, to partake of its cool airs and to listen to the discourses of the rabbis. Today was a restful day for tomorrow throngs would gather here to purchase their paschal lambs. The next day they would return again for the slaying and the sacrifices, going home afterwards to make preparations for the Passover Feast.
Gamaliel was in the temple with Saul of Tarsus when Jesus and his disciples entered the court of the Gentiles through a porch.
Two days before Jesus had made a triumphant entry into Jerusalem and had been welcomed with ecstasy, hope and joy by a people well acquainted with his healings and miracles. Yesterday however, he had overturned the tables of the vendors and moneychangers in the temple, as he had done three years before, raising the ire of the Pharisees again. But the crowds continued, despite warnings against it, to throng to the temple each day to see Jesus when he came to teach.
Fifth Gospel: A Novel (Rosicrucian Quartet) Paperback Page 29