The Damascus Way

by Janette Oke

  Julia nodded slowly as Jacob turned back to his task. There was more than just reassurance in his words. There was strength as well, and wisdom.

  “Your mother has changed,” Jacob said over his shoulder as he pulled a knot tight. “I have seen it in the brief time since she has joined with us as a follower. She is a stronger woman now. More able to face her world.” He glanced quickly at Julia, clearly wondering if he should have made this rather personal observation.

  But Julia quickly nodded her agreement. “I have seen the change as well.”

  Her response seemed to encourage him to continue. “This is an opportunity to meet with other believers before she returns to Tiberias. It may be what she needs to further strengthen her faith.”

  Julia felt immense relief at hearing some of her own thoughts given voice. “I feel the same.”

  As he gave a pull on the cord he said, “I wish . . . I would like to remain with . . . with . . . with the three of you and see you safely home, but I must be on the trail.” He kept his face turned away from her gaze.

  “I understand.” Julia lowered her voice and dared to ask, “Do you have further warnings for the . . . for our fellow believers in Joppa?”

  He gave a brief shake of his head. “I have been given one contact in Joppa. To see if . . . if they have further . . . news. Nothing more.”

  Julia nodded. She realized that she should not ask another question, nor delay him longer.

  “Do you have enough coins?” he asked.

  “More than enough for our simple needs.” She hesitated. “And you?”

  “I withdrew as needed from the chest. I am keeping an account – ”

  She waved his explanation aside. “I must thank you, both for your wisdom and your care. We would surely have perished had we tried to stay with the caravan.”

  “God is to be thanked.”

  Julia managed a quiet smile. She felt an unexpected warmth fill her. “I think there are times when God’s servants need to hear words of gratitude as well.”

  He looked at her in a way that he had not before. Silently. Longingly, as though taking to memory every feature of her face. Julia felt a flush creeping up her cheeks. “God go with you, Jacob. I will be awaiting your safe return.”

  “Thank you,” he said just before he turned away. “I would appreciate your prayers.”

  Julia watched him go and wondered why she suddenly felt bereft. Alone . . .

  Julia and Helena were preparing for bed in their shared rooftop room at the home of one of their new friends and fellow believers.

  “Do you find it strange that I insisted upon this journey to Nain?” Helena asked as she combed through her hair with her fingers.

  Julia turned from spreading out their pallets and arranging the coverings loaned to them.

  “No. Not strange. You say you remember the name from childhood.”

  “Helzebah? Yes, vaguely.”

  “It is understandable that you would wish to see someone from your childhood, speak with her once more, Mother.”

  Helena removed her sandals and rubbed her weary feet. “Actually, I have two reasons to speak with her. She may have news of my family that I have not heard since my time in Tiberias. I . . . I have never learned what caused my mother’s death.” She paused and looked out the window for a moment. “And Zoe’s story concerning her intrigues me. To think that a religious leader would forgive – ”

  “He was not a religious leader, Mother. He was – is – the Messiah.”

  “Yes, of course. I did not mean . . . Well, it is difficult for me to fully comprehend the fact that he has come. The one of whom we have long heard, the one for whom we have awaited. It seems like an impossibility, and now . . .”

  “I know.”

  “I never thought I would live to be so blessed.”

  Julia smiled and moved over to embrace her mother. From her heart a fervent prayer of thanks floated upward. Mother believes!

  When Julia stepped back, Helena removed her outer robe and tossed it aside. The embroidered garment that Jamal insisted she bring for the trip looked rather wrinkled and dulled by dust, but even with all that, still out of place in this quaint village of laborers. And now she – who was accustomed to sleeping on a raised bed in silks – prepared to stretch out on a floor mat for the night.

  “I noticed you spoke with Jacob before he left.”

  Julia nodded.

  “Did he seem distressed that I had decided not to go on to Joppa?”

  “Oh no. In fact he was very understanding. He thought it wise that you take the opportunity to visit with Helzebah and the other believers before you return to Tiberias.”

  “Life is strange, is it not? Had we not come on this trip – which I dreaded with all my being – we would not have been caught in the storm that made us take refuge in a cave. And had we not been with Jacob, who knew of storms, we would have perished. And if we had not been forced to spend that frightening time together, I may not have been brought to recognize my need of your God. And now Helzebah . . .” Helena shook her head with a smile.

  “Life is indeed strange. And wondrous.”

  Helena looked up at Julia. “My mind has settled much since I have come to faith. But there is one thing that causes an inner struggle.”

  Helena stared out the window, and Julia waited.

  “Remember, you spoke of having difficulty forgiving your father?” Helena finally said. “I do not feel that I need to forgive him. But I . . .” She hesitated, as though the words were difficult to speak. Julia waited again.

  “I do not know much about faith,” Helena went on, now looking at Julia. “But I do know there are very strict religious laws about . . . about being a ‘kept woman.’ I remember someone from our village, an outcast. She was shunned. There was even talk of stoning her. I was a child, but it haunted me. It still does. I do not know what became of her. I think she was sent away – no doubt to beg.”

  Julia was silent. Listening carefully to her mother.

  Julia noted the difference in her now. Instead of a woman who looked lost, confused, Helena sat tall and spoke with a strength in her voice. “I no longer will fear should your father decide to send me away. I would not welcome it, but neither will I despair. If that is what the Lord sees . . . as right, I will learn to bear it.”

  “Oh, Mother.” Julia sat down on the mat and placed her arm around her mother’s shoulders.

  “You need not grieve,” Helena said with confidence. “We . . . we both are in God’s care. It is easy for me to trust him with my future. I will admit it is harder for me to trust you and your future to him. I cannot bear the thought of you being married to an infidel, should that be what he is. I pray and pray, but no answer comes. At least one I can hear.”

  Julia could not speak. The mother she had prayed for so earnestly was now praying for her. It touched her deeply.

  Helena wiped away tears on a sleeve of her gown. “I still cling to faith that . . . that things will change. How or when I cannot see, but surely God will allow it to happen.”

  Julia tightened her arm around her mother, then stood and took her place on the second mat. She did not even want to think about the marriage that loomed in her future. It frightened and saddened her. She reached for the blanket and pulled it upward. Morning would come early. She was weary from their long day. She wanted sleep – but her mother’s concerns for her whirled through her mind.

  Helena was not finished. “I do not see the way to true happiness as being found in wealth. No matter how rich and prominent the family may be, sorrow can still fill the home. I do not think your father finds happiness in his riches. Instead they weigh heavily upon his mind. I now know there are things of more worth. Like forgiveness. Faith. If only your father could discover the true treasure . . . I pray for that to happen.”

  I, too, thought Julia, but she did not say the words as she lay down on her pallet.

  The room was quiet. The night outside captured the calm aft
er the storm. From some distance a sheep bleated. Julia felt herself drifting off to sleep when her mother spoke again.

  “I have been watching our young man, Jacob. He seems to regard you highly.”

  Julia’s heart started beating more quickly. “Why do you say that, Mother?”

  “The way he looks at you. Particularly when you are not facing his way. He sees you for what you are. An attractive, strong, intelligent woman. I notice it in his eyes.”

  “Oh, Mother.” In the darkness Julia put her hands on her warm cheeks.

  “There are complications of course. You being the daughter of Jamal. But if your circumstances were different and your hand was not already spoken for . . . I quite like him.”

  Julia did not answer, and Helena said no more.

  In spite of her exhaustion, Julia found it hard to calm her tumbling thoughts for sleep.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The Megiddo Plains

  The week following the storm was filled with feverish activity. A number of the stalls needed rebuilding from the ground up. Alban, Abigail, Zoe, and Martha pitched in with the others, winning even more friends. They worked late, often sleeping in the windowless rear chamber rather than making the steep climb up the road to Nain. When the Sabbath finally arrived, the entire village was in need of rest. The women joined with the community for a Sabbath service in the rather dilapidated synagogue. Later, after the evening meal, the followers of the Way began collecting together in front of Abigail’s house, and it seemed very natural to gather in small groups to talk about Jesus, about what his life, death, and resurrection meant to each of them.

  That night Abigail’s sleep was fitful, and she finally left her pallet and slipped out the front door. She stood at the edge of the escarpment and watched the stars sprinkled across the sky, and felt anew the changes that now defined her life, like a leaf caught upon powerful winds.

  Below her, the northern Megiddo Plains stretched out silver and empty. Unlike the Samaritan fields to the south, Megiddo held a desert dryness, with a hardscrabble surface that grew little save sand. While still in Jerusalem, Abigail had heard tales of the Samaritan wastelands and the loathed inhabitants who had lost their heritage and tainted their Hebrew faith. And yet this was now her home, and to her surprise she felt content.

  The region’s emptiness and strangeness were as had been described. But she knew God was with her. Abigail stared up at the sky, and did not pray aloud. Instead, she felt the Spirit’s presence surrounding her. Her communion was deeper than words could accommodate.

  Here in this silent emptiness, she had witnessed the impossible. Miracles of lives transformed, bodies healed. Her daughter was happy. Friends had remained at her side and helped her make new ones. She had found new ways to serve, had discovered a field needing harvest, just as the Lord had foretold. Villages filled with hungry hearts, yearning to know the Messiah.

  As Abigail returned to her pallet, she resolved to begin a women’s prayer and study group. They would meet to discuss the truths she had learned from Peter and others in Jerusalem. They would pray for each other and for the Nain community.

  The next evening Abigail, Martha, and Helzebah closed the shop and prepared to climb the winding road home after another long day in the market.

  Yelban’s son pointed and called, “Riders coming this way!”

  The women paused to shade their eyes against the setting sun, but this time it was not a caravan that approached.

  Julia stood under an awning, sheltering more from the crowd than the sun.

  They had arrived at Nain the previous evening, tired and dusty from a long day on the trail. To their surprised relief, they were heartily welcomed, not just by Helzebah, who quickly found accommodations for them, but by the entire community of believers who gathered to greet them.

  It was a strange feeling to be among strangers who treated them as friends. So she watched and saw anew how the community of followers was indeed unlike others she had known. And Alban? Julia watched him in particular, for she wondered about his influence on Jacob. Surely this man held some of the secrets.

  Their new friends gathered around Alban now, offering farewells before he left for Capernaum. Julia had heard how long it had been since he had seen his wife and young son, and she could see the anticipation in the man’s face. She felt she understood at least some of his feelings. Hadn’t she reacted in a similar fashion each time she had received news her father’s caravan was coming home?

  The group made a circle around Alban. They placed their hands on his head and shoulders and prayed for safety on his journey. They prayed for Leah, waiting at home for him with little Gabriel. They also prayed for Jacob, now wending his way toward Joppa.

  But their prayers did not stop there. They prayed that as Alban lived from day to day, his testimony of the risen Lord would ring true, that others who would accompany Alban on his journey would bear strong witness wherever they went.

  Alban and his small group heard blessing after blessing and words of encouragement and Scriptures to take with them as final good-byes were exchanged. It was an amazing scene and brought tears to Julia’s eyes. Here they were, a group as diverse as one could possibly bring together. Jew, Samaritan, Roman, Greek – all united because of one who had come from God and returned to God only a few short years ago. Surely here was living proof that the eternal truths brought to life during Jesus’ time on earth meant transformation was not only possible, it was real.

  The man she had before known as her father’s chief guard walked over to where she stood. Julia whispered, “Go with God.”

  Alban nodded and said, “When you next see Jacob, please tell him I am thinking of him daily – and also warn him to be careful.” They both smiled. “I will pray for his safe return. And yours.”

  And at last the departing travelers were on the road, watched by many until they disappeared around the first bend. Julia was standing near Helena. She reached out and took her arm, moving in close to the side of her mother. Helena asked, “Why do I feel I have just said good-bye to a dear family member?”

  “I suppose because he is family now. A closer kinship than we have ever known before.”

  Helena stared thoughtfully down the now-empty road. “ ‘Family,’ ” she repeated. “So many things I will be learning,” she murmured.

  “It seems like you rested well.”

  Helena responded with the hint of a smile. “I sat up with Helzebah and Martha. We talked far into the night.”

  “The moon was high, and you still had not come to bed. I thought to go looking for you – then I heard voices.”

  “Helzebah shared her story. Did you know she was married to five different men?”

  “She was widowed five times?”

  Helena shook her head. “She didn’t say how each marriage ended. But after the five she merely lived with another man. That was when she met Jesus. She had gone to the well for water. The town women shunned her, so she went at a time of day when others would not be there. But he was there. Alone. This Jewish man who was not of their town. Who was not a Samaritan. At first she was frightened. She didn’t know whether she should turn around and go home without the water. But she needed it, and he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her.

  “He spoke to her – which astonished her. No Jew would speak to a Samaritan. Especially a woman. But his manner was kind as he asked for water.

  “He told her that he was the Messiah, the promised one. Even more shocking, he seemed to know all about her, yet he did not shun her. He spoke to her with a respect she had not found from anyone – man or woman. I think that is what drew her most. Then he spoke of living water. Water that would satisfy her needs in the days and years to come. She found her heart longing for this living water. When she finally did leave him and hurry back home, she did not hide in shame. She called out to everyone she saw to come and hear him. She was convinced he was who he said he was. The Messiah.”

 
; Helena looked into Julia’s face. “Think of it,” she mused, “the Messiah – speaking to a woman. A woman living with a man to whom she was not married. Bringing her peace and forgiveness. Is not that amazing?”

  Julia nodded, her eyes full. Helena too was weeping quietly, but behind the tears her eyes shone and a smile spread across her countenance, seeming to engulf her in a happiness Julia had never seen her mother express before.

  “And he has forgiven me! This same Lord. This same master. My Messiah. He has forgiven me too.”

  “And me,” Julia said softly. “And me.”

  “But I do still have questions.” Helena gazed at the empty road once more. “We three discussed at length what I should do. They did not give me any advice or instructions, but we prayed. Martha said the Spirit would enlighten me. Would give me direction. Would give me strength and wisdom to make the right decision.”

  She looked calm, assured, as she went on, “And he will. I am confident of that. When I look back at how he led us through the windstorm and brought us to be here with Helzebah and Abigail and Martha, I see it all as his miracle. I have learned that I can trust Jesus with whatever lies ahead. Martha said that the decision may not be easy, but it will bring peace. And that is what I long for. What we all desire, I believe. Peace of mind and soul.”

  Julia reached out to embrace her mother.

  Peace . . . Yes.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX

  East of Jerusalem

  For safety’s sake, Jacob held where possible to the well-traveled Roman roads. By the second afternoon he had skirted the hills east of Jerusalem, and he spent the night in the same box canyon where he had slept after leaving Jamal’s caravan. He knew donkeys possessed remarkably keen senses and were light sleepers. If they smelled or heard an intruder, Jacob would know of it.

  He slept deeply, and the next morning after a quick breakfast he had reached the point where the foothills met the rocky coastal plains. This had become an increasingly lawless region. Only one main road descended westward from Jerusalem to the Judean plains. Zealots and bandits alike preyed upon unfortunate travelers. Roman soldiers patrolled the route, but they could not be everywhere. Jacob maintained his position just off the road, scouting carefully in every direction as he rode. Behind him, the way snaked up the Jerusalem hills, a yellow ribbon rising to greet the empty sky.