“A committee of Pharisees?” David asked, with just a touch of irony in his voice.
“Yes, of course.”
“A totally objective committee, I’m sure,” Simeon drawled to his mother.
She frowned and gave him a sharp look.
Aaron’s mouth turned up in what was meant to be a smile, but the expression came out more as a sneer. “Perhaps you and Deborah should come hear him as well,” he said to David. “If you are so anxious to learn what kind of a teacher he is, then you can see for yourself that this man is not the Messiah. He is not a great teacher. He is nothing but an imposter.”
But David had barely heard that last comment. He looked at Deborah with excitement. “What do you think? Would you be willing to go up to Nazareth? I could get things in order here before we leave.”
Deborah hesitated. She was not at all interested in going to hear this unknown preacher whose name seemed to be on everyone’s lips, but she knew how much it meant to David. And besides, she thought, perhaps Aaron was right. Perhaps this was a way to get the idea out of David’s mind. “If you would like to go,” she said, “then I will go with you.”
“Good.” David turned to his brother-in-law. “ I think we shall come.”
“Perhaps after you have seen for yourself that this man is a deceiver and a servant of Beelzebub, you can talk some sense into Simon and Andrew and those other two brothers with whom you are in partnership.”
“Simon is no fool,” David said, his voice tightening in spite of his resolution not to let Aaron irritate him. “And calling a man that you have never even met a servant of Satan seems to be a kind of foolishness all its own.”
But Aaron was enjoying this too much to be angered. “The man has not spent his life studying the Torah as the great rabbis have. How can he claim to be a teacher?” His voice rose in pure derision. “And besides, a Messiah from Nazareth?” He hooted. “You should have spent more time studying the Torah as well, David.”
“Aaron,” Deborah said tartly, “we all know how learned you are, but that doesn’t mean that the rest of us are without any knowledge. You know how I feel when you act like that.”
Simeon had to look away so that she wouldn’t see his surprise. It wasn’t often his mother spoke so pointedly to her younger brother.
“All right,” he said, rubbing his hands together, showing no signs of being at all sorry for what he had said. “Let me ask you some questions, David. Let’s see if you are as knowledgeable as my sister thinks.”
“Aaron, I’m warning you. I won’t have this.”
“It’s all right, Deborah,” David said. “I respect Aaron’s knowledge of the scriptures. I wish I knew as much as he did.”
Simeon jerked forward, annoyed beyond holding back further. “My father’s problem, Uncle Aaron, is that he is more concerned about living the Law than he is about knowing it. Unlike some people I know.”
Deborah slapped sharply the bench on which she was sitting. “That is enough! All of you. We will either speak civilly to each other or we shall spend the evening apart.” She glared at Simeon, then swung on her brother. “Do you understand me, Aaron? If you want to have a discussion, that’s fine, but one more insulting comment like the one you just made to David, and you can see if Amram has a bed for you tonight.”
The rooftop was dead silent now. Rachel stared at her mother-in-law in amazement. Ephraim couldn’t believe his mother had just spoken like that. Aaron looked as if he had been caught from behind with a sharp blow. David was staring at his wife in wonder.
“Yes,” Aaron finally said. “I’m sorry, David. I didn’t mean it.”
Simeon, still looking at his mother in shock, nodded too. “I apologize as well.”
It was David who finally went on. “Go ahead, Aaron. I would like to hear what you have to say. I have never said that this Jesus is the Messiah, though I know some think that he is.”
“Do Simon and Andrew?” Aaron asked.
He looked quickly at Deborah before answering. “I think so.” He saw her shake her head slightly, obviously not pleased with that answer, and he wished Aaron hadn’t been that specific.
“All right,” Aaron said. “Let’s talk about the Messiah then. Let’s start with Isaiah.” Now his voice almost took on the attitude of a cantor in a synagogue as he began to intone a memorized passage. “‘For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and . . . ’” He stopped, motioning for them to continue in his place. “What’s the next phrase?”
“‘And the government shall be upon his shoulder,’” David answered.
“Yes!” Aaron exulted. “The government will be on his shoulder, David. He is to be our king. Then what does Isaiah say next? ‘And his name shall be called Wonderful! Counselor! The Prince of Peace!’” He stood and began to pace back and forth, pleased with his point. “Did you hear anything in there about a carpenter?” He leaned over his chair, triumphant now. “Can you picture a king or a prince coming out of Nazareth?” One hand flicked, dismissing the very idea with disdain.
Simeon started to raise a hand, but Aaron rushed on, his face flushed with excitement. “And remember what the prophet Balaam said under the inspiration of the Almighty? ‘There shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Scepter shall rise out of Israel, and shall smite the corners of Moab, and destroy all the children of Sheth.’” He punched the air. “A scepter, David. What does that mean to you?”
“Rulers hold scepters,” David conceded calmly.
“Exactly! Kings and princes hold scepters. So tell me, what scepter does this Jesus have?” He scoffed. “A carpenter’s mallet? A saw? Surely you cannot believe that some peasant preacher from the back hills of Galilee is going to rise up in power and smite all of our enemies.”
“I—”
“Listen to the Psalmist, David.” He began to quote again. “‘He shall judge among the heathen; he shall fill the places with the dead bodies; he shall wound the heads over many countries.’ Now there is a Deliverer for you. Simeon and his Zealot friends will be able to put away their swords and stop playing childish games. There will no longer be a need for such foolishness. When we become faithful and obedient, then the Messiah will come and overthrow all our enemies.”
Simeon stirred but then remembered the anger of his mother and bit back a retort.
Again there was a derisive hoot of contempt. “Perhaps when we are in Nazareth we shall see the armies that this Jesus has raised. Perhaps we shall see his great store of arms that he will use to throw off the yoke of Rome.”
Simeon had come to his feet, truly angry now that Aaron was speaking in this tone to his father, but David pulled him back down, not even looking at him. He seemed not at all perturbed by Aaron’s outburst. “I know there are many other passages just like those you have cited, Aaron.”
“Many!”
“I pray that you are right in your interpretation of these passages, Aaron, because then Deborah and I won’t have to lie awake nights when Simeon is gone and wonder if he will return to us. I would love to think that a Great Deliverer is coming.”
Simeon turned to look at his father. He knew that his father did not approve of the path he was taking, but this was the first he had ever heard him express concern about his safety.
“But let me ask you just a couple of questions if I may.”
“Of course,” Aaron sniffed.
“Is it not true that the scriptures give us another picture of the Messiah as well? Yes, there is the image of the powerful King who will make us free and govern us in righteousness, but don’t the prophets also paint a picture of what some of the rabbis have called ‘the suffering servant’ Messiah?”
Aaron had stopped his exultant pacing. “Well, yes, but—”
Deborah turned, her eyes wide as she looked at her husband. Simeon was also staring at him in surprise.
“For example,” David went on, almost musing now, “Zechariah said something very interesting I think.” There was a quick deprecating g
esture. “I can’t quote it as you do, Aaron, but doesn’t he say something like ‘Your king is lowly and comes to you riding upon an ass and the foal of an ass’?”
Aaron was clearly thrown off balance by this totally unexpected side of his brother-in-law. “Well, yes, something like that. But that is an image we don’t fully understand.”
“Don’t the rabbis agree this is a passage that refers to the Messiah also?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
David looked puzzled. “So I don’t understand. When a king wants to signify that he visits another city in peace, he comes riding on a donkey. Why? Because the horse is associated with war—chariots and cavalry—but it’s hard to appear very threatening if you mount a donkey and charge the walls.” He lifted a hand and moved his fingers in an imitation of the mincing steps of a donkey. At the same time he cupped his other hand to his mouth and called out, “Surrender, you dogs. Here I come!”
Ephraim clapped his hands in delight. “The men would fall off the walls laughing,” he said.
Now David swung back on his brother-in-law, and the musing tone was gone. “So how do you explain that, Aaron? Does the Messiah come as the Great Deliverer, or will he come in peace, riding on a donkey? Incidentally,” he went on, speaking to his wife and son and cutting off Aaron’s response, “Isaiah did call the Messiah a prince, but note that he is a prince of peace, not a prince of war.”
Aaron’s eyes were flashing anger, but David went on calmly. “Or tell me this. How is it that Isaiah, whom you have already cited, tells us that the Messiah will be despised and rejected of men? That he will be a man of sorrows? That he will be wounded for our transgressions? That doesn’t seem to fit the picture of a powerful conqueror.”
Simeon noted there was no smugness in his father, even though he obviously had Aaron scrambling for an answer. He seemed genuinely concerned. “I wish I did have your knowledge of the scriptures, Aaron, for I have puzzled long over this of late. I have been reading a great deal, and frankly, I don’t know.”
Aaron’s excitement had died noticeably. He was frowning deeply. “The words of the prophets are like a swift river. It is easy for one who is not used to swimming in deep water to lose one’s footing.”
Simeon shot forward. “And only you who are properly schooled are strong enough to brave the current, is that it?”
“Don’t be insolent, Simeon,” Aaron snapped. “The great rabbis say that the oral traditions are the hedge around the Law. They are there to protect us—all of us—so don’t mock those who spend a lifetime learning how to erect that hedge.”
To Simeon’s surprise his mother spoke in his defense. “I don’t think Simeon was being insolent, Aaron. In fact, I think it is a fair question. David has raised some troubling issues. Are you going to respond or simply use your greater knowledge as an excuse for not answering him?”
“So now my own sister turns on me?” Aaron cried. “You know that was not what I was saying.”
“Then answer David’s question. Frankly, I would like to think you are right, Aaron. I want the Messiah to be the Mighty One of Israel. I want him to come out of the morning sun with flashing sword and invincible power, sweeping all of our enemies before him.” She looked at Simeon. “I want him to make it so that the Zealots do not have to fight. Knowing that would make the Roman yoke more endurable now. But what of these other prophecies?”
Aaron was pulling at his beard. He was still clearly miffed, but Deborah’s challenge could not be sidestepped. “What I meant to say, when I used the image of a deep river,” he began, “was that much of the inspired writings are to be taken literally, but sometimes the Lord uses figurative language, imagery that helps us see the truth. For example, just because a king is powerful and mighty doesn’t mean he cannot be humble too. After all, humility is one of the qualities of greatness. Perhaps he will be wounded by our lack of faith. Perhaps his sorrow comes because his people are not ready for him.”
Simeon could see his uncle’s eyes becoming bright again. He liked the sound of what he was saying. “Wouldn’t that be a tragedy if the Deliverer comes and we are not worthy to receive him and stand with him? Then he really would be like a suffering servant.” He stopped, nodding in satisfaction. “I don’t think it is all such a great mystery.”
“May I ask you a question, Uncle Aaron?”
He turned and looked at Simeon, suddenly wary. “What?”
“The peyot or side curls that you wear. Is it true you have not cut them since the day you decided to become a Pharisee?”
“Of course.” He touched them now, curling them around his fingers as he often did.
“And this commandment comes from the Levitical code?”
Deborah was giving Simeon a warning look, but he ignored it, watching his uncle.
“Yes,” Aaron said proudly. “The law says that you shall not round the corners of your head nor mar the corners of your beard.”
“And that is interpreted to mean this area right here?” Simeon touched the hair directly beside his ears.
“Yes.”
“Simeon,” his mother broke in, “I won’t have you making light of something that is sacred to another person.”
He looked at his mother. “I have no intention of making light of anything, Mother. Actually, this is a question that has bothered me for some time.”
“I can defend myself, big sister,” Aaron said with a smile of appreciation. Then to Simeon, “So what is your question?”
“There are some who say that Jehovah gave that commandment to Moses because in some pagan religions, such as in Egypt, the side curl on a boy was never cut until he reached puberty. Then it was shaved off and offered ritually as part of his dedication to one of the gods.”
Aaron nodded, still quite comfortable. “Yes, I know that some believe that.”
“Then is it possible that the Lord gave that commandment as part of a prohibition against following after idolatrous practices and that he never meant for that part of the hair to be left untouched by those who are his faithful followers?”
To Simeon’s surprise, again his uncle nodded amiably. “Yes, that is possible.”
“And yet you don’t think so. You think it should be taken literally?”
He fingered the peyot again. “Obviously.”
Simeon sighed. “Father and I do not wear the peyot. Yet you Pharisees do.”
“Many people other than the Pharisees follow this practice, Simeon. And not all of those who stand with us, I am sad to say, believe that peyot are part of the mitzvah, or the commandments.”
“All right,” Simeon said, thoughtful now. “You interpret the Law literally. Father and Ephraim and I and others do not. Me especially, since I shave even my beard. If we are wrong, then what we do is displeasing to God. Is that right?”
Now there was hesitation, but finally Aaron nodded. “Yes, I believe that your failure to accept God’s law, for whatever reason, is displeasing to him.”
Simeon’s father stirred but said nothing. He was curious to see where Simeon was going with this.
“Do you believe that we want to displease God?”
“Of course not. I believe you are sincere in thinking that the passage has only limited meaning. But sincerity does not make one right.”
“Agreed, but I thank you for at least acknowledging that we are sincere. Because you are right. I do not want to displease God. If I really believed in my heart that it mattered to God how I cut my hair, my side curls would be longer than yours, Uncle Aaron. But I just have trouble accepting that interpretation. So here is my question for you. You say that some passages of scripture have to be taken literally and yet others are to be interpreted figuratively. So how do you know which is which?”
“I . . . ” He stopped, looking a little perplexed.
“You say that the suffering servant passages are probably symbolic, while passages predicting a Mighty King are literal? What rule do you use to decide when to be literal and when not to? That i
s the question I have for you. And don’t just quote the great rabbinical teachers. My question applies to them as well.”
His face darkened instantly. “Don’t criticize those who have devoted their lives to studying the Law. The schools are not just social clubs, you know. A price has to be paid before you can answer such things.”
Once again Simeon’s mother surprised him. “That’s all well and good, Aaron,” Deborah said quietly, “and we all know that you have paid that price and we have not. So answer Simeon’s question. It is a good one. How do you know when to be literal?”
He turned to face her, surprised that she was taking Simeon’s side on this. “It isn’t that easy, Deborah. It’s not always a question of logic or common sense. You just know with some things. After a while you just know.”
“But I don’t just know, Uncle Aaron,” Simeon said, shaking his head. “So what does that say about me? Is it just because I am so ignorant of the Law?” His mouth pursed into a thin line. “Or is it perhaps that you have too much learning, that you are relying too much on your knowledge and not enough on inspiration?”
“Now you are being insolent,” Aaron snapped.
“I agree, Simeon,” Deborah said. “We will stop this discussion right now if you can’t be reasonable to each other.”
“I’m sorry,” Simeon said, and he meant it. He really did want to know, and taunting Aaron was not the way to get him to answer.
Aaron’s eyes darted around the group. Absently, he smoothed his beard as his mind sought the proper response. Then his head bobbed slightly. “You have asked a thoughtful question, Simeon. May I ask you one in return?”
“Will you answer mine first?”
“This is my answer.”
“All right. Go on.”
“Do you believe in the power of prayer?”
Simeon’s breath exploded softly. “Of course.”
“I’m not just talking about the set prayers we offer three times each day. I’m talking about personal prayer, when your heart yearns for help or solace and you turn to God, pleading for his help or for an answer or for comfort. Do you believe in all of that?”
The Kingdom and the Crown Page 27