“I am from a place where the water surrounds the land.”
The old man touched his hand. “What river do you bathe in?”
Michael smiled. “Not a very big one.”
The old man looked mystified.
“My name is Michael and I come from Northport.”
“I have never heard of that town. Where is it?”
“Near a very big river. Where are you from?”
“Near Galilee. I am Saul.”
“How far is that from Jerusalem?”
“It is close to here.”
The crowd grew as Michael and Saul marched up the mountain, taking baby steps, circling a big rock or two obstructing the path, and navigating past a group of tall trees. Although frail from age, Saul possessed a spirited tongue as he told his life story. As he would pause, Michael would ask him questions, further fueling the elderly man’s exuberance about living in first-century Galilee.
“You’ve had an interesting life, Saul. How long have you been following Jesus?”
“I am not sure how much time has gone by. I am thankful I am able to remember where I am going today.” He winked. “I do remember the day when our town was filled with many people coming from towns near and far away. They were yelling and screaming in the streets. It was unlike any day I had ever lived.
“There was a big crowd celebrating a young couple’s wedding and they ran out of wine. I felt terrible for the man and woman. I saw a woman go up to this preacher, asking him if he could help and wondered how this man was going to help her. He looked like any other guest, except he was with several men, followers or relatives. I do not know. I could tell the woman’s request touched his heart. He had a look of concern. I believe he told the woman at first ‘it is not my time.’
“But there was something spiritual about him. The hurt on the woman’s face moved him. He started telling everyone to fill the jugs with water. When they were full, he told the bride and groom there was more wine. And there was.”
Michael stared, mesmerized. “Did you have a chance to drink any?”
Saul nudged Michael with his cane. “Yes. I did not want to be rude.”
“What did the wine taste like?”
“Unlike any cup of wine I had. My body felt warm, even hot like the sun was inside me. I felt a little dizzy too.”
The old man smiled, his grin revealing a missing tooth. “Maybe I had too much wine? I tell you some believed, some were thinking it was a trick. But I know I was glad to have that cup of wine.”
“So it wasn’t that miracle that brought you here today?”
“I guess it should. But it did not. I saw the Rabbi talking to a man. He was pleading with him. He told him he had come from another town, not far from Galilee. He was trying to get the Rabbi to come back to his town to help his son who was dying.”
“Did the Rabbi go with him?”
“No. The man was so upset. I wanted to go and help him. He was crying, begging the Rabbi for help.”
“So he didn’t help?”
“He did. He told the man to go back home. His son was alive and not sick anymore.”
“So you believed the Rabbi performed a miracle?”
“My son, there is no bigger skeptic than me. I followed the man and took that trip back to Capernaum. I wanted to see this miracle with my own eyes.”
“What did you see?”
“The boy was running around, laughing, playing with his friends. The father dropped to his knees, looked at the sky, and praised God. He cried and kissed the ground. When his boy ran into his arms, I started to weep myself. I asked one of the family members what happened. They told me the boy got up out of the bed in the afternoon and started playing.” He raised his voice. “A miracle. A miracle.”
Michael shook his head in astonishment. “I wish I was there. How did the town react?”
“It was unlike any other day in my long life. Women wept, men shouted with joy. People hugged each other.”
A chill ran up Michael’s spine. “What did you do?”
“I walked over to the little boy and hugged him. I did the same to the father and his family members. I asked the little boy how he felt. He told me he was sleepy at first, saw this beautiful bright light, and then he woke up and felt fine.”
Michael’s jaw dropped, unable to muster any audible words as he shook his head in bewilderment. Of course he had read these events in the Bible and had heard them in service, but to actually listen to a firsthand account rendered him speechless.
“I know I have lived longer than most, but my eyes do not deceive me even if my legs fail me at times,” Saul said.
“Did the boy’s father talk about the Rabbi anymore?”
“Whenever he could. I spent much of the day at this man’s house. I had to see if the boy was fine or if he had a temporary recovery. I have seen a few of those in my life. But the boy is truly well.”
Saul stopped briefly, catching his breath as they approached one of the steep inclines. “When you live as long as I have, son, you watch people’s faces more than you listen to their words. I will never forget the look on that father’s face when his son jumped into his arms.”
Saul wiped a few tears away with his sleeve. “I always get this way when I think back on that day.” He grinned again, his wrinkles stretching from the top of his cheekbones to the side of his chin.
Michael noted he looked more youthful when he smiled. It was reassuring to him, knowing Saul was comfortable in his later years, a subject that dogged him every day as he watched his daughter grow up.
“Did you see the rabbi after that day?” Michael asked.
“I did not. It is why I am here.” He stopped and lifted a gray eyebrow at Michael. “Is this not why you are here?”
He helped Saul up the hill, holding his arm, giving him a chance to steady himself on his cane. “I’m also here to help a friend.”
“You are a good man, Michael. Not many would travel this far to help a friend.”
Saul continued. “You talk strange for someone who is a strong follower of the rabbi. You use words that are familiar but they do not sound right.”
“I read a lot.”
“You are a wise man. Are you with much gold?”
“No. Not at all.”
Saul settled down by an abandoned rock, placing his cane to the side. A tree with several long branches gave the area some shade and soon the group of people he had been walking with joined him. The children were delighted now that the adults had stopped.
“How are you doing, son?”
“I’m achy,” Michael admitted.
“Do your legs hurt?”
“Yes.”
Saul laughed. “You young ones do not know how lucky you are.” He paused. “Is something troubling you?”
“It’s important I find Yochanan soon.”
“It will be difficult to find him in this crowd. Why do you think he will be here?”
“His wife told me he’s been going to the mountains to listen to preachers.”
“There are many preachers, Michael.” He leaned against his cane, his eyes steadily watching the children. “Come over here, children. Do you want to play a game?”
Smiling boys and girls skipped over to him, yelling, “Grandpa, Grandpa, let me play, let me play.”
“Quiet down,” he admonished them.
“What game are we going to play?” asked one little girl.
He raised his cane like a parent uses their fingers, placing it across his lips. They fell silent and stood at attention as Saul explained the game. “This is going to be the best game you will ever play.” The children squealed. He raised his cane again. “We are going to help my friend Michael here. Say hello to him.”
“Hello,” they shouted in unison.
Michael waved, uncertain how Saul and the children would be able to help. “He is trying to find a friend. I need you to stand up on the highest rocks you can find, climb the biggest tree and look around.”
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br /> “What does he look like?” asked the tallest boy.
“I am going to let him tell you about his friend.”
Michael smiled. “This is a great idea, Saul.” He turned to the group. “Children, he has on a blue robe and a brown belt. He has black hair and brown eyes and he has a scar on his knee.”
“What’s a scar?” asked the smallest boy.
Michael pointed to his scar above his right eye. “It looks like a mark like this.”
The children nodded to each other.
“What happened?” asked a boy with curly brown hair. “Did you fight a Roman? Did you beat him up? Did he hit you?”
“I got this from a hockey puck.”
“What is that?” asked a girl, giggling.
“Well, it’s this hard black rubber … hmm… it’s a long story. It doesn’t matter right now. I’ll tell you after we find my friend.”
The children gave him all their attention. “My friend’s name is Yochanan. Call out his name. If you find him, just come back and tell me where he is. Whoever finds him first, I’ll give you one of my coins,” he said, fingering his stash from the first time he had been to Jerusalem.
The children yelled with joy and Saul shushed them. “Michael, we are happy to help. We do not want any gifts, do we, children?”
“No, Grandpa,” several small voices said dejectedly.
“That is correct, my children. Now go off and help my friend.”
They scurried in different directions, chanting, “Mr. Yochanan? Mr. Yochanan?”
Michael smiled in amusement.
“Do not stand there,” Saul said. “You might walk around to see if you can find your friend too. You have a better chance with more eyes.”
“You’re so right, Saul.”
Michael milled through the crowd, focusing only on the males in the gathering. There were many of varying ages – some alone, several accompanied by their wives and children. The elderly struggled to take their final, energetic steps. Amazed by the size of the faithful, he found himself relishing the atmosphere, feeling the hope in the air, the anticipation and excitement of hearing Jesus speak.
He heard faint cries from the children, saw a few of them standing on their toes on some of the bigger rocks in the area, even admiring the biggest boy’s creativity of directing the others from a high tree branch.
I wonder what Jesus will say? Maybe he can help me find Yochanan? I can finally ask him about Vicki, and grandma, and–
“Michael, Michael. Look over there,” shouted Saul, who was inching his way toward him.
“Where?”
Saul gestured to the right with his cane. “Up that hill.”
A dark haired man in a light blue robe, fitting Leah’s description, trudged his way to a steep part of another trail.
“Much gratitude,” Michael said as he shook Saul’s hand. “Maybe I’ll see you again?”
“I hope so, son. If you ever visit Galilee, please come to see me.”
“I shall.”
He hurried toward the man in the blue robe, pushing his way through the stream of followers.
He looks like Yochanan but I can’t see his eyes or the scar on his knee.
Michael stopped, cuffed his hands together near his mouth and yelled, “Yochanan.”
The man didn’t respond, prompting Michael to shout his name once more.
The man finally stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Before he could turn around to proceed, Michael waved. The man gave him a befuddled look and resumed his trek.
“Wait,” Michael ran toward him. “Yochanan. Stop.”
The man halted his trip again and took a few steps back to Michael.
“Yochanan?”
The man dipped his head slightly. “Do I know you?”
Now what do I say?
“We have a mutual friend.”
“Who is this friend?” Yochanan’s stare danced all over him.
Michael paused, stalling for an answer. “Does it matter?”
With a look of annoyance, Yochanan spun around and continued walking up the hill.
“Stop,” Michael said. “I need to talk to you.”
He scurried up the embankment, walking side by side with him. “I need to know where you’re going.”
“I am going to listen to the preacher talk. Is there anything more you need to know?”
“Where are you going after you hear the preacher speak?”
“I do not know. Wherever my heart tells me to go.” Yochanan glared at him with a menacing look. “Why are you interested in where I am going?”
Michael noticed Yochanan’s muscular forearms and stepped back. “I’m sorry I’ve bothered you.”
He stayed a few steps behind, cloaked behind a large family, never losing track of the light blue robe. Yochanan settled near a big rock with some shade. Michael remained about thirty feet from him. He watched him drop his head as if deep in thought and caught him twice wiping his eyes with his garment.
He’s grieving. Probably over his daughter. This is all making sense now. What do I say? Should I tell him I know Leah? How do I warn him? He’ll think I’m crazy telling him what might happen if he isn’t careful. I wonder how long it’s been since his daughter died?
Watching Yochanan unleashed an avalanche of emotions in Michael. He mulled over what he was going to say, knowing he needed to be sensitive. He laid a hand on Yochanan’s shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit with you to listen to the preacher?” Michael asked. “I’m alone and could use some company. You look like you could use a friend too.”
Yochanan’s face was smeared from his dirty hands. “Leave me alone.”
Michael held out his hand and introduced himself. “Do you want to talk?”
“I do not have much to say.”
“You don’t need to. I’m here as your friend.”
“Why?”
“It’s what the rabbi believes. So do I.”
“You must be a strong follower.”
“Sometimes I am. My faith grows every day. What about you?”
“I have listened to many so-called wise men over the past months but I hear of this rabbi from friends. I am filled with doubt. My heart has been broken.”
Michael absorbed the seriousness in Yochanan’s voice. He recollected when Leah told him the sad story on the rooftop the last time he visited Jerusalem and how she blamed herself. “What is bothering you?”
Yochanan took a half-hearted breath. “It is my daughter.” His body slumped. “One day she was laughing and playing, the next day she was sick. I tried to find someone to help her. I went to many neighbors’ houses. I prayed and I prayed. But prayer did not help.”
Yochanan lowered his head more. “I did not protect my daughter. I have hurt my wife. I have caused her so much pain.”
Michael crouched down to his level. “How,Yochanan? How have you caused her so much pain?”
“I could not help my angel. I have hurt my Leah, my love. I cannot go home,” he said, sounding defeated.
The words ripped through Michael’s heart. Leah had told him how she’d felt guilty for not reaching Yochanan emotionally. She grieved for years, blaming herself for his terrible fate. And here he was, claiming culpability in his daughter’s death. Yochanan and Leah loved each other so deeply that they were destroying themselves.
“I know having a child leaves us vulnerable in so many ways. The world can be cruel and unfair. But you must not blame yourself.”
Yochanan lifted his head. “I could not look into my wife’s eyes anymore. I failed her.”
“You didn’t fail her. She felt terrible about what happened, you –”
Michael stopped himself and backed away.
Yochanan’s face reddened. “You know my wife?”
“No, I don’t. But I believe she must be feeling terrible and is missing you badly. It sounds like you love each other very much. You must go back and talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”
Yochanan nodded
. “I will go back tonight. First, I want to hear the rabbi speak.”
I knew this was the reason why the tunnel opened again. It’s giving me a chance to help Leah and Yochanan.
Michael realized what he had done. His heart absorbed a bittersweet emotion that left him both sad and happy.
It doesn’t matter how I feel about Leah. It matters that they have a chance at happiness together again.
The crowd swarmed around Him as He moved up the high hills, the terrain wide, big enough to hold a thousand people. He continued to climb several more feet until He located an elevated area high enough so that the throng could hear His voice clearly. Elderly women, perhaps soon taking their final steps in this world, pushed forward with determination, extending their trembling hands to Jesus.
The apostles acted like security guards, surrounding Jesus as He reached out with visible enthusiasm to touch every loving gesture. A woman nearby with long, straight hair smiled widely, patting the children on their heads, wishing parents strength and happiness.
In awe and unable to move, Michael absorbed the feverish atmosphere.
Yochanan smiled. “There He is, my friend.”
Michael didn’t answer. He allowed himself to mentally float, soaking up the reactions of the children cheering while the elderly put their hands together, closed their eyes and prayed.
There were skeptics too, displaying expressions of scorn. Jesus worked the crowd like a rock star on stage.
“You do not represent my God,” shouted a cynic. “You lead only a group of sheep and not warriors.”
Jesus turned and smiled. “There will be many who stand in my shoes and talk for me and shout the same cries. Their gold will glitter and impress you. Beware of those who feel the need to wield their swords in the name of my Father’s Kingdom.”
Now finished with his climb, He waited a minute longer to give the crowd an opportunity to find a space to sit or stand. Then He addressed His followers, holding His hands up. The final faint cries from the worshippers died down and an absolute hush swept across the small mountain.
Michael and Yochanan half-kneeled and half-sat about a hundred feet away from Jesus. His dark brown, shoulder length hair danced from a sudden gust of wind. His soft brown eyes scanned the masses. He touched his reddish brown beard and held up his hands.
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