Maximus

by Richard L. Black

  Aurelius looked at Jacob and Levi with reddened eyes. “On returning to my home, my servants came running out with the news that Aaron had been healed.” He again clutched his chest and looked at Jacob and Levi with humble sincerity. “He was healed, my friends, at the very hour of my conversation with Jesus. Aaron has been normal ever since.” He wept freely.

  Jacob let a moment pass, then placed his hand on Aurelius’s shoulder. “That is why we are here. I wanted to confirm that story with you.”

  “It is true, my friends, every word of it,” Aurelius stated quietly.

  “Have you embraced Judaism?” Jacob asked.

  Aurelius laughed. “Oh no, like you, I am a Roman, and that can never be changed. But my heart now believes in this Nazarene. He is who some say he is.”

  “The Son of God?” Jacob interjected.

  Aurelius answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

  “The long hoped-for Messiah?” Jacob questioned.

  Aurelius paused momentarily. “Yes, he is that too, but not in the sense that the Jews think. Jesus is certainly the king of a kingdom. But these members of the Sanhedrin are so caught up in their own importance and interpretation of things that they don’t get it. They will do anything to silence him, including killing him. Not by their own hands, mind you, but by ours—Rome’s. I don’t know how they will do it, but that will be the outcome, my friends. I have studied the Jews over the years, and one thing has been made clear throughout their history: they have hounded, stoned, and killed many of their own prophets. They will kill this one too.”

  Aurelius paused to touch a nearby blossom, admiring its beauty. “The Nazarene is an outsider; he threatens the power structure and the very foundation they build their religion upon. I have lived with these people a long time, but I am removed enough from them to see things more clearly.” He finished the wine in his goblet and poured more. “You seek a revolutionary, general? You have found one. Jesus of Nazareth walks more confidently and leads with more authority and effectiveness than any general I have ever known—with all due respect, sir.” He motioned with his glass toward Jacob, who smiled. “His message is a revolution of peace—it turns the ruling class Jews on their ears. They have much to fear. The commoners follow him like bees to a fresh blossom. It’s the commoners who wield the swords for Judaea, gentlemen. The ruling class interprets and enforces the laws, they don’t brandish swords. When the Jews go to battle, the common man makes up the army, the same men who follow Jesus. But I’m afraid they will follow him to his grave without ever striking a blow against the enemy.”

  “Who is the enemy?” Jacob asked.

  “The Jewish leaders themselves!” Aurelius shook his head in disgust. “One thing you should know about the Jews, my friends. They are good, hard-working, God-fearing people. They are strictly obedient to the precepts of their culture and religion. They keep to themselves pretty much. They tend to their families and look out for each other. They sacrifice greatly to make annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem for what they call Passover, an ancient ritual dating back to their great prophet Moses. I don’t understand all of it.” He waved his hand dismissingly. “I just know they are a disciplined and stern people. This Nazarene has taught them how to smile and serve others; he’s different from the rabbis and priests who rule the synagogues with an iron fist.”

  Jacob pondered Aurelius’s remarks in light of his experience with Jershon and his family. What Aurelius was saying coincided with Jacob’s own assessment.

  “I am boring you with my babble, my friends,” Aurelius apologized.

  “No, on the contrary, listening to you has been most interesting and enlightening,” Jacob assured him. “My observations are in agreement with what you have said. And I thank you for sharing a most personal experience with us. It once again confirms my own feeling about this good man.”

  “He is more than just a good man, general. We both would be blessed to attach our allegiance to him. Of course, Rome would renounce us and the Jews would stone us. But there are worse things in this life.” He laughed and Jacob laughed with him.

  They sat in the inviting garden until almost sundown, talking of Rome and discussing the campaigns in which Jacob and Levi had taken part. Jacob judged Aurelius to be a good man and a loyal citizen of Rome, although he told them emphatically he had no intention of ever returning to Rome. He could never leave Aaron and his mother and confessed his growing sympathy to Jesus and his movement. He was not welcome in the synagogue but was welcome among Jesus’s disciples. Aurelius’s men did not share his beliefs, but they respected him as their leader. Jacob and Levi had made a new friend and found an ally in Aurelius. Their secret was safe with him.

  The conversation with Aurelius brought the feelings Jacob had for Liora to the surface, producing a knot in his chest. As he contemplated departing Capernaum and Galilee for good, the thought of never seeing her again plagued him. He couldn’t shake his vision of her, the sound of her voice, or how her soft hair felt against his shoulder. She had somehow infected him with an unfamiliar emotion. He thought of the difficulties Aurelius had shared when he told them of his reasons for not marrying Aaron’s mother. He could not do that to Liora or Jershon and his family. He wondered if God had led him to her and what God would think if he simply walked away. He knew he would never find anyone to compare with her. He had to treat this like all distractions that came to him as a general in battle; he would let it go for now, compartmentalize it, and deal with it later. He found, however, that purging his mind of Liora was easier said than done. Right now he had a battle plan he had to stick to: they were off to Jerusalem. They would leave the next morning.

  Aurelius directed them to a stable, where they secured horses to ride south to Jerusalem. They made an agreement with the owner for the horses and a supply of bread and dried fish and rode to the hills outside of Capernaum to make camp for the night.

  28

  I think I prefer the gentle ride of camels,” Levi said as he dismounted his horse and stretched his stiff muscles.

  The evening air was mild and filled with the sound of frogs croaking among the reeds edging the water. “Maybe we should camp a little further from the river. The insects are swarming.” Levi swatted mosquitos off his arm.

  They ate a supper of bread and dried fish and talked briefly of their voyage from Rome, laughing when they recalled Akhom’s bewilderment at their fighting skills. For years, Jacob had slept out in the open with his soldiers. Eschewing the privileges of rank, he preferred his attendants carry extra rations of food and replacement weapons instead of the bulky tents, soft beds, and other trappings that generals normally packed on campaigns. His men noticed this sacrifice and respected him all the more.

  Jacob let thoughts of Liora keep him up too late. Battlefield decisions were cut and dried, but he was finding that decisions of the heart did not always follow a logical path. He had enjoyed the comfort and hospitality of Jershon’s humble home. He liked the fact that Liora slept a few feet from him in the next room. He knew she thought of him as she lay there. He wondered what she thought of him now. He rolled over, trying to push her out of his thoughts—it was harder than ignoring the mosquitos. He pulled his blanket over himself for protection. He would take Levi’s counsel tomorrow and choose a camp farther from the river.

  They awakened early, disrobed, and walked into the slow-flowing river to wash off the sleep and soil and sweat of the previous day. After drying off, they quietly ate bread and fruit and drank the rest of the wine Aurelius had sent with them. Aurelius had also supplied them with two Roman short swords and a sling. Levi was ecstatic with his new weapons. Aurelius had cautioned them about the robbers they could potentially meet along the way and had insisted that they be prepared. They stowed their meager gear, wrapped the swords inside blankets, and tied them to the horses. The daggers they had acquired in Ostia remained hidden in their belts.

  They returned to the main road south and soon passed a caravan of Nabataean merchants headin
g north to Damascus, moving goods by camel. They were acquainted with Iqbal and Alhasan. The leader removed a small satchel from the saddle of his burdened camel. He offered it to Jacob—it was a package of dried meat. As he handed it to Jacob, he said, “It is the forbidden meat, but I know some Jews who eat it when no one is watching.” He and his friends laughed heartily. Jacob accepted the gift. He and Levi were weary of dried fish and, unbeknownst to their Nabataean benefactors, they would enjoy the dried meat without sin. Each party bowed and shared wishes of peace and safe travels.

  Jacob and Levi walked their horses slowly, enjoying the dried meat. The day passed quickly. They talked of home and what the future might bring. Neither of them had a clear vision of returning to Rome. Levi admitted to Jacob that he and Sariah had actually talked about a life together. Since the murder of his family, Levi had shut down all feelings of tenderness. That helped him greatly on campaigns and in battle, but closed-down emotions did not endear him to people. Jacob had noticed during the brief time they had spent in Capernaum that Levi had become less and less the hardened soldier. Jacob had seen his soft side and sensitivity return as Levi interacted with Jershon’s family. He saw the joy Levi experienced when he played with Esther and mentored David and Seth. He hadn’t seen Levi clutch his amulet in some time. It was obvious neither of them relished the idea of returning to Rome or to battle.

  That evening, they spoke more intimately to each other than at any other time since they were young boys. They shared cares and concerns and possibilities for the future. Levi, in speaking of Sariah, mentioned how her smile reminded him of his mother’s and how much his mother would have liked her. It was the only time Jacob could recall Levi mentioning his mother in any conversation. Levi said Sariah had asked him about his family. He had told her the story of their murders, and she had cried and sympathized with him. She had later shared the story of the murder of her cousins—the older brothers of Liora and David. It was a painful tale for her to tell and for Levi to hear. It was not his doing, yet he felt responsible for the killings. Levi admitted to Jacob that he was feeling emotions he had never felt before. It was cathartic and healing and drew the two friends closer together.

  Jacob and Levi had witnessed experienced soldiers wounded in battle, crying with pain and remorse, crying out for their wives and mothers and sometimes their gods, weeping like the little boys they once were. It was a disturbing scene: grown men, their lives being violently drained away, clutching and crying out for the things that were most important to them. Battle had hardened the normal emotional responses in both Jacob and Levi. Both admitted they had felt more human in the past few weeks than they had felt in years, an effect of their time away from battle and tender moments spent in the home of Jershon.

  “I want to be a man like this!” Jacob said, clutching the robe on his chest. “A man that feels again, a man that doesn’t avoid tenderness, a man that produces goodness, not one that sends men off to die.” Jacob pounded his chest with his fist. Levi sat quietly. This was new ground for the two lifelong friends.

  Jacob turned toward his friend. “I had an experience I want to tell you about.” He shifted uneasily. “We have talked many times about the gods,” Jacob began. Levi nodded in agreement. “I have struggled, brother. I have struggled with our gods. For all the intelligence and knowledge Rome, Greece, and Egypt have brought into the world, we have adulterated the concept of God. We have invented gods for everything and every event. We have even borrowed gods and changed their names to suit us.”

  “We’ve been through this before, my brother.” Levi sighed heavily.

  “I know, I know,” Jacob said, “but it still plagues me. I can no longer accept the gods of Rome. They have no place. They are not human.”

  “That’s the point of a god, Jacob,” Levi interjected. “They are not human. They are gods.”

  “I believe God has a form like ours, only with infinite glory,” Jacob said with conviction.

  Levi did not want to engage again in this endless and ambiguous debate, but Jacob looked him in the eye. “Somewhere, I believe, God has to have had experience as a human in order to understand the feelings and needs of mankind.” Jacob shook his head, unable to quite form into words the thoughts in his head. “Levi, do you talk to God?”

  Levi looked quizzically at Jacob. “What do you mean?”

  Jacob became animated. “Have you ever talked to Jupiter or Neptune?”

  “Well, I think when we boarded the ship in Ostia to come here I said something to Neptune.” Levi smiled.

  “But you didn’t place your trust in Neptune, did you? You placed your trust in the captain and Akhom.”

  “You’re confusing me—you’re not making any sense.” Levi shrugged his shoulders.

  Jacob sat up straight. “Do you remember praying with Ezra on the ship?” Levi acknowledged he did. “He was talking to someone, Levi; he wasn’t just reciting some verse. It actually appeared he was having a conversation with his God; it was personal. Do you remember hearing Jershon pray? He prayed humbly, sincerely. He spoke with his God, no, he pleaded with his God, expecting a response. Their prayers are different.” Jacob looked off into the distance, his brow furrowed.

  “I’m not sure where you are going with this, Jacob. So their prayers are different. So they think their God is human, more personal to them—so what? How does that affect us?” Levi asked.

  “Because I believe this Jehovah is our God too,” Jacob said boldly.

  “He’s a Jewish God, Jacob. He walks and talks with the Jews, not with the conquering Romans,” Levi replied.

  “I believe differently,” Jacob responded.

  “That’s not surprising; you have for some time.” Levi sighed.

  “Yes, but before I could never define what I believed; I can define it now.”

  Levi leaned back against a large rock, getting more comfortable, and looked at Jacob, waiting for his explanation. Jacob stared into the small fire they had started. Levi could sense there was emotion welling in his brother’s eyes.

  “The other night,” Jacob began, “I went out by myself and hiked to the top of the hill near Jershon’s home. Something was working on me, an unknown, yet a comforting force. I felt compelled to address its presence. I did what I had seen Jershon do many times; I began a conversation with Jehovah. I talked to him like Ezra would talk to him, frankly and boldly. I asked questions. I told him my concerns, doubts, and fears. I confessed my sins and admitted my weaknesses.”

  Levi could see the tears running down Jacob’s face.

  Jacob continued, “I asked this God if he was real. I asked him if he cared about me—a Roman. I asked him if this Jesus of Nazareth was his son.” The tears flowed freely now. “You’re going to think I am foolish, brother, but I received an answer.”

  Levi sat forward, leaning on his knees. Jacob was struggling to talk. Levi had never seen his brother in such a state. He had seen the compassionate general mourn over the loss of soldiers in battle, especially those that had become friends. He knew of the deep feelings and passion that Jacob had demonstrated throughout his life. He had seen his friend in a myriad of difficult and sometimes gut-wrenching circumstances over the years. Levi had experienced many of them himself. But what he was now witnessing was different. There was a peace and serenity about Jacob. The anxiety and frustration of the battlefield that accompanied all leaders was absent. Jacob was calm and contented as he tried to explain his innermost feelings.

  Jacob wiped the tears with the back of his hand. “It came over me like a warm blanket, and I felt a burning from within. It started here,” he placed his hand on his heart, “and soon took over my entire body to the point where I had no strength. I felt the poison of evil running out of my body and being replaced with goodness and hope. All I wanted to know was confirmed to me in an instant. I collapsed on the ground, unable to move. I woke up sometime later and returned to the house. I was unsure how to tell anyone what I had experienced, so I kept it to myself.”
Jacob looked squarely into Levi’s eyes. “God is real. Jesus of Nazareth is his son. He is not exclusively the God of the Jews—he is the God of all men, and his son walks among us, my brother.” Jacob’s eyes were red with emotion. Tears spilled down his cheeks and into his beard. “I don’t expect you to believe me. But whether you believe me or not doesn’t matter. I know what I know and can’t deny what happened to me. It makes me wonder if I should stay in Judaea.”

  Levi digested what his friend was telling him. He could see Jacob was serious about what he was saying. It was making him uncomfortable and he didn’t know how to respond. Levi admitted to himself he had felt a soothing peace as he observed Jesus. He sensed he was a good man, a special man. He had not taken the step his brother had in asking in prayer what it all meant. He was skeptical of all the gods. He couldn’t fathom the meaning of a god walking among men openly. Levi’s thoughts were more pragmatic: Why does this Jesus allow the Jewish leaders to defame and antagonize him? If he is a god or a king, why doesn’t he use his power to throw out the Jewish leadership and the Roman occupation at the same time? There was too much that didn’t make sense to his logical way of thinking.

  Levi hadn’t given any real thought to whether the Nazarene was the living son of a god. His job was limited to determining if the Nazarene was a danger to Roman rule. He had determined he was not; therefore, he considered his involvement finished. They were off to Jerusalem to make a report to Pontius Pilate and return to Rome for the same purpose. The campaign was coming to an end. It became apparent to Levi that Jacob was suggesting a continuing involvement.

  It was incomprehensible to Levi’s way of thinking. He admitted to himself that he missed Sariah. She was different from any woman he had ever met. They had talked in private about many things, creating a bond of trust. It wasn’t until he became acquainted with Sariah and her family that he gave any thought to a serious relationship with a woman or having a family of his own. His life was that of a soldier; he thought of nothing else beyond that. This campaign to Judaea had been a nice diversion, but it also opened his eyes to a life he never thought he could have. Suddenly Jacob was suggesting that it could become a reality. But he had left Capernaum and put life with Sariah out of his mind. Jacob’s admission confused him. Was he seriously thinking of staying and not returning to Rome? Jacob and Liora had definitely shared a special attraction for each other. It would be understandable for him to want to stay with her. But this talk of Jesus and Jacob’s confession of belief in him as a living god was more than Levi could process.