Maximus

by Richard L. Black

  Levi guided the horses to the enclosure and, in deference to the restless donkey, tied the four horses to the outside railing rather than leading them in. He grabbed some armfuls of the nearby dried grass and scattered it in front of the hungry horses. They began munching contentedly. He followed Ezra and Jacob into the house.

  Ezra’s house was much different from what Jacob had expected. There were scrolls lying everywhere on the meager furniture and scattered about the floor. The home was a good size, but the disorganization made it crowded. Ezra immediately began to gather scrolls and pick up other things to make room for his unexpected guests. Jacob sensed Ezra was not quite himself. He seemed agitated and unable to focus.

  “Sit down, sit down, my friends,” Ezra said as he dumped a handful of scrolls into a wooden box in the corner. “Let me pour you some wine. You must be thirsty and hungry from your travels.” He made nervous movements in ten different directions at the same time.

  “No, thank you, Ezra,” Jacob said. “We recently ate with your friend Tamur, who led us to you.” Jacob and Levi stood, waiting for Ezra to sit down. It took a minute, but he finally quit fidgeting with scrolls and took a seat opposite them.

  “It is so good to see you.” Ezra laughed. “You are convincingly Jewish, my friends—look at you.” He gestured to them with an open hand. Jacob and Levi smiled sheepishly. “How was your stay in Capernaum? Did you travel anywhere else? What brings you to Jerusalem? Are you done with your investigation?” Ezra fired off several questions, not waiting for answers.

  Jacob started slowly. “Yes, our campaign is coming to a close. We are preparing to report to Pontius Pilate but wanted to meet with you first. We had hoped you would advise us and accompany us.” Jacob paused. “Ezra, is something wrong? The man we left in Caesarea was calm and confident. With all respect, it appears that something is weighing heavily on you. Am I wrong, or can you tell us what it might be?” Jacob said, concern in his voice.

  Ezra looked at Jacob directly. His eyes were clear and focused and he seemed to calm down. “I am excited to see you two. Nothing is wrong . . . but everything is wrong. I am better than I ever was. Before I tell you my story, tell me yours—I imagine it is exciting.” Ezra smiled broadly with anticipation.

  Jacob took a deep breath and began the tale. Levi embellished it. Two hours passed before they reached the final chapter and told of the encounter with the robbers and the last leg to Jerusalem. Ezra listened attentively, asking many questions and shaking his head in wonder throughout the narrative. Jacob purposely left out any mention of his attraction to Liora or his prayer and deep personal feelings about Jesus of Nazareth.

  “My sons,” Ezra began, “your time here has been short but you have learned a lifetime of lessons. I am so grateful for your safe return. I worried much about you over the last few weeks. I hoped someday you would come to my door unexpectedly, and unexpectedly you have, praise God.” Ezra stood and hugged them both again. “You must be thirsty and hungry by now,” he said as he moved to the back of the house. “I have some good wine supplied by our mutual friend Tamur. Fresh bread and cheese were delivered this morning. I have been too distracted to eat yet today, but now my appetite is voracious. Please join me.” Ezra brought out a large wooden tray with bread and cheese. Jacob and Levi moved their chairs to the nearby table to partake in the impromptu meal. Ezra produced an urn filled with wine and set three gold goblets on the table. Levi picked up one of the goblets.

  “Bounty from a pirate raid?” he asked as he raised the finely crafted goblet for inspection. They all laughed.

  “No, they are an extravagant gift from my son, Benjamin,” Ezra answered, “a small indulgence for a simple man.” He poured the wine and sat with his friends to break the bread—then stopped. “Prayers . . . I assume you two have kept up with your prayers?” Jacob and Levi looked at each other. Jacob bowed his head and recited a prayer in Hebrew. Ezra never closed his eyes. He just stared at Jacob in wonderment. “You have me convinced,” Ezra said when Jacob finished. “You have become part of the family of Abraham.” He chuckled and raised his goblet to toast his friends.

  Ezra questioned them about various incidents they had related. The three men relaxed into a friendly conversation.

  As their visit wore on, Jacob observed that Ezra began to act more like the man he remembered from their voyage. “Ezra, it appears you are working on a project or doing some research.” Jacob motioned toward the scrolls strewn everywhere.

  “Oh yes, that,” Ezra shrugged. “Yes, I have been doing some work lately.” He began to move some of the scrolls around, pretending to organize. Jacob sensed his discomfort.

  “What’s the matter, Ezra?” Jacob asked directly.

  “Well, nothing is the matter. It’s just . . .” His voice trailed off. Jacob let him continue without further probing. “I have been doing some research from the writings of the prophets that I borrowed from the archive at the temple. I still have friends there.” Ezra looked up at them. His eyes seemed red and swollen.

  “What’s wrong, Ezra?” Jacob asked again, furrowing his brow.

  A tear leaked from the corner of Ezra’s eye and ran down his cheek. He spoke with difficulty through quivering lips. “I know now with certainty it is He.”

  “It is who?” Jacob asked.

  Ezra hesitated once more. He gathered his emotions and spoke softly and clearly a Hebrew word. “Immanuel,” he breathed out.

  Jacob and Levi shared a look of confusion.

  “Immanuel . . . God with us.” Ezra closed his eyes and wept freely. “Jesus of Nazareth. He is God with us. I have been reading from these scrolls and those are the words of Isaiah, an ancient prophet—I told you about this on our journey. He prophesied of the Messiah and called him by name—Immanuel. Since I returned from our voyage, I have been obsessed with this. I have spent hours reading and pondering, fasting, and on my knees praying. Everything I have read, seen, and heard. Everything that you have told me confirms what I feel and now know in my heart—Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah.” Ezra folded his arms around himself as if embracing the truth and joy of his own realization.

  Jacob could not fully comprehend everything Ezra was saying, but he knew what Ezra was feeling. He had had an experience similar to Ezra’s. Jesus’s holiness had been revealed to his heart too, but Jacob was reluctant to share his feelings. He thought for a moment. “We hear he travels to Jerusalem as we speak.”

  Ezra’s eyes popped open wide. “He can’t!’ he said loudly. “They will kill him.”

  “Who will kill him?” Jacob asked.

  “The Sanhedrin and the high priest. My sources tell me they meet daily to plot his death. If he comes, they will surely arrest him and press false and twisted charges against him. He must be stopped.” Ezra stood and nervously began rearranging the clutter around him as if he could find a hidden solution. He turned swiftly and approached Jacob, seizing him by the shoulders. “You can stop this!” he said.

  Jacob shook his head. “How can I possibly stop it?”

  “You are here to meet with Pilate. The Sanhedrin can pass a sentence on someone, but they cannot carry out a death sentence. That requires the hand of Rome.”

  Jacob shook his head in bewilderment. “We will give our report to Pilate as he has requested, reporting the evidence that Jesus is not a threat to Rome. I can’t be responsible for what the Sanhedrin does or if Pilate rules otherwise; he is the prefect of Judaea. I cannot force him to any decision.”

  Ezra looked into Jacob’s eyes with a renewed intensity. “How passionate are you about the evidence, my son?”

  Jacob carefully considered his answer. “I know the evidence to be irrefutable.”

  “Irrefutable?” repeated Ezra.

  “Yes,” Jacob began, “I know what I saw and I also know what I feel. The evidence is irrefutable. However, I have not proven it by your Jewish scrolls and prophecies. I have seen it with my own eyes, Ezra.” Jacob was reluctant to tell him about his prayer; i
t seemed too unbelievable to share. But Jacob thought, Is that any different from saying you saw a blind man’s sight restored or a leper healed? Was a direct answer to a prayer any less mysterious or believable?

  “Members of the Sanhedrin have heard reports of his miracles, yet they refuse to believe. Why do you believe?” Ezra probed.

  “It’s hard to explain.” Jacob fumbled for words. “Because of things that have transpired, I just know in my heart,” he finally said.

  “‘I will hide my face from them, I will see what their end shall be: for they are a very froward generation, children in whom is no faith.’” Jacob shook his head, not understanding Ezra’s words. “It is from the fifth book of the great prophet Moses—the book of Deuteronomy. Moses saw our time and the evil of the children of Israel. A perverse generation, he calls us.” Ezra closed his eyes as if in prayer or deep thought, then commented, “Jacob, you saw with your own eyes, but you believe because you have faith. According to God and the prophets, that is the most convincing and enduring kind of knowledge.” Ezra paused and studied Jacob. “What will you do with this newfound knowledge, my son?” he asked directly.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” Jacob said quietly.

  “You have a personal and intimate knowledge of the Messiah, my son. That knowledge requires action,” Ezra said.

  “It does?” Jacob raised his eyebrows.

  “Of course, my son. Faith begets commitment; knowledge begets action. You have a newfound knowledge regarding Jesus of Nazareth. What is your plan? Are you a disciple? Will you follow him?” Ezra asked.

  Jacob squirmed. “We have been following him,” he responded, evading the real question.

  “Not with the steps of your feet but with the actions of your heart,” Ezra clarified.

  Jacob knew what Ezra meant. His mission had kept him from having to make that decision. He would meet with Pontius Pilate soon and then report to Rome. He could catch a ship back to Rome soon afterward and forget everything that had occurred here in Israel, including Jesus of Nazareth and Liora.

  In the ensuing silence, Jacob recalled when he came to the crossroads all young Roman boys encountered. Sons of poor families didn’t have a real choice. They enlisted in the legions to fight for the empire because they had no hope of a future any other way. He, though, came from a wealthy senatorial family and had a choice to enter the armies of Rome or pursue an education at the feet of great teachers. He had soaked up knowledge from the great philosophers and orators like a dry sponge and wished to continue his studies. But his closest friend had coaxed him to choose a life with a sword in his hand. They were twelve at the time, and they had been fighting and killing men since. Jacob sighed deeply. How he wished he had made another decision. He didn’t blame his friend. He blamed Rome.

  “My son, you wrestle with yourself,” Ezra commented in a soft voice. “There are two voices that talk to us constantly,” he continued. “The voice of man and the voice of God. I sense the voice of God is speaking to you, and, like most men, you are choosing to ignore it.”

  Jacob looked into the piercing eyes of the wise man sitting in front of him. He could feel emotion beginning to well up inside but valiantly kept it from pushing to the surface.

  Ezra saw Jacob’s discomfort and turned his attention to Levi, who had been sitting quietly until now. Levi shook his head.

  “Levi, my son, it seems you know the question I am about to ask,” Ezra said.

  Levi shifted uncomfortably under Ezra’s gaze.

  “You have seen what your good friend has seen but have not experienced the same burning in your heart. Is that true?”

  Levi nodded.

  “What do you think of Jesus of Nazareth?” The question was direct.

  Levi answered truthfully. “He is a peaceful man. He is beloved by his followers, unlike any leader I have ever seen. He truly does perform miracles, as we have heard.”

  “You think of him as a mere leader, as in your legions and garrisons?” Ezra questioned politely.

  “Well, no . . .” Levi started to explain.

  Ezra interrupted him. “I don’t blame you for succumbing to the bias of the culture in which you’ve lived most of your life, my son,” he said kindly. “But it has blinded you to the refinement of the spirit.” He paused, emotion welling in his voice. “He is the living Messiah, my sons. I can’t even begin to explain that to you. I don’t have the words. Jacob, God has caused you to understand more fully by speaking to your heart. Levi, you can ask for that same knowledge. It will come to you once you really desire it. Don’t just believe what you’ve seen with your eyes. It must be confirmed to your heart by the Spirit.”

  Jacob spoke. “Ezra, when was it confirmed to you?”

  “I knew some time ago, even before I met you two. However, I allowed the voice of man to dissuade me from believing the feelings burning in my heart. After our journey, I decided to study the matter more fully. I felt there had to be more evidence. The more I studied, the more confused I became. The prophets spoke and testified of him. I, like my fellow Jews, had been deceived about the manner in which he would come. Jesus of Nazareth did not fit the interpretation we had invented. He is not the great military conqueror we imagined. He did not arrive on a galloping steed, swinging a flashing sword to vanquish our enemies. He came as a gentle wind proclaiming peace. His weapons are the knowledge of the heavens and the authority he has been given by his Father. He testifies of the prophets and the true gospel but is guarded in testifying of himself. I soon realized I would not find the answer in any of these scrolls.” Ezra motioned toward the scrolls littering his abode. “There lies a wealth of prophecy, but not definitive proof.” He turned his gaze back to Jacob. “My beloved Jacob,” Ezra said in a tender voice. “Like you, I felt the necessity to seek the guidance of God in this matter.”

  “How do you know I sought an answer from God?” Jacob asked.

  “Did you not?” Ezra looked at Jacob and smiled.

  Jacob smiled weakly back.

  “I know your heart, my son. It is what you would do. It is how you know the irrefutable truth of these things.” Ezra placed a warm hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “Amid this clutter of history, I cleared a space and knelt in prayer to God and told him how confused I was. I told him what I had studied and deduced. Then I asked him straightforwardly the desires of my heart.” His voice wavered, and his eyes moistened with tears. “My sons, I can’t describe to you the sacred nature of my experience. I have never felt so sure about anything in my life. Jesus is the promised Messiah. He is the Son of God, and he walks among us.” Ezra’s confession of faith seemed to give him strength. His face warmed with a broad smile, and his eyes twinkled with light. He extended his hands to Jacob, who took them in his. They gripped each other tightly, silently affirming their mutual knowledge.

  A melancholy suddenly overcame Ezra. He lowered his head and dropped his hands heavily in his lap. “If it is true what you say, then he comes to Jerusalem like a lamb to the slaughter.” He looked up at Jacob. “There must be something you can do?” he pleaded.

  Jacob stood to stretch. “I will make my report to Pontius Pilate. I see no reason why Pilate would not take my report and admonition seriously. The power to punish with death lies only with Rome and not with the high priest or the Sanhedrin. I can’t see him bending to their prejudice.”

  “Don’t underestimate the power and influence of the Sanhedrin, my son. They are clever men who can make black look white and white look black. They twist the Law to suit themselves,” Ezra said, struggling to stand.

  Levi reached out to assist him.

  “Thank you for lending me your strength,” Ezra said, balancing himself on Levi’s massive arm.

  Jacob took Ezra’s other arm. He could feel the frailty in his mentor’s body. His search for truth had taken a physical toll, albeit self-imposed, but he was not weak in spirit.

  “We need to meet with Pilate as soon as possible!” Ezra blurted out, his face lighting u
p with renewed energy. “We have no time to waste. We must get to him before those vipers from the Sanhedrin poison his mind.” He rearranged his robe, tightened his sash, and adjusted his head covering. He reached for his staff and headed for the door.

  Jacob and Levi watched him, smiling with affection, and followed him into the sunlight outside. Their pace quickened as Ezra marched purposefully down the road, with his two friends in tow.

  30

  Jershon called his family together. Days of melancholy had caused him much anguish, and the women in his household were suffering from what he could best describe as the pains of lost love. Sariah had become sullen and grumpy, snapping at the slightest provocation. Her mood was unchanging from day to day. Liora was disconsolate and withdrawn, doing her chores in silence and speaking little. The departure of Jacob had dredged up everything in her life that had gone against her: never having known her mother, the untimely loss of her brothers, and the death of her father. The usual sparkle in her eye was gone, and she walked with eyes downcast. She retired early each night and woke each morning with red, swollen eyes. His beloved wife, Naomi, suffered because of the sadness of her daughter and niece. She too was distant and quiet, her usual radiance subdued by sadness.

  Jershon stood in the center of the house and called to his family. “I want you all to sit down and listen.” He pulled up a stool and sat. Naomi sat in a chair next to him. She leaned affectionately on his shoulder and held his arm. Something had to be done to pull her family out of this darkness. She relied on her husband for a solution and hoped he would provide closure for the emotional wounds Sariah and Liora were suffering.

  “I have come to a decision,” he said with authority. “This family is suffering from a disappointment I cannot define. I feel we have misjudged and misunderstood the action of our friends. I can’t explain why I feel so strongly about this, but we need to take action to arrive at an understanding.” He paused for effect. “We will go to Jerusalem for Passover.”