"John would speak with you," said the Essene.
"Is John not dead yet?" he asked the man.
"He is confined at Peraea. I would think Herod is too frightened to kill him. He lets John walk about within the walls and gardens of the palace, lets him speak with his men, but John fears that Herod will find the courage soon to have him stoned or decapitated. He needs your help."
"How can I help him? He is to die. There is no hope for him." The Essene looked uncomprehendingly into the mad eyes of the prophet.
"But, master, there is no one else who can help him."
"I have done all that he wished me to do," said the prophet. "I have healed the sick and preached to the poor."
"I did not know he wished this. Now he needs help, master. You could save his life." The prophet had drawn the Essene away from the crowd.
"His life cannot be saved."
"But if it is not the unrighteous will prosper and the Kingdom of Heaven will not be restored."
"His life cannot be saved."
"Is it God's will?"
"If I am God, then it is God's will." Hopelessly, the Essene turned and began to walk away from the crowd.
John the Baptist would have to die. Glogauer had no wish to change history, only to strengthen it.
He moved on, with his following, through Galilee. He had selected his twelve educated men, and the rest who followed him were still primarily poor people. To them he offered their only hope of fortune. Many were those who had been ready to follow John against the Romans, but now John was imprisoned. Perhaps this man would lead them in revolt, to loot the riches of Jerusalem and Jericho and Caesarea. Tired and hungry, their eyes glazed by the burning sun, they followed the man in the white robe.
They needed to hope and they found reasons for their hope.
They saw him work greater miracles.
Once he preached to them from a boat, as was often his custom, and as he walked back to the shore through the shallows, it seemed to them that he walked over the water.
All through Galilee in the autumn they wandered, hearing from everyone the news of John's beheading. Despair at the Baptist's death turned to renewed hope in this new prophet who had known him.
In Caesarea they were driven from the city by Roman guards used to the wild men with their prophecies who roamed the country.
They were banned from other cities as the prophet's fame grew. Not only the Roman authorities, but the Jewish ones as well seemed unwilling to tolerate the new prophet as they had tolerated John. The political climate was changing.
It became hard to find food. They lived on what they could find, like starved animals.
He taught them how to pretend to eat and take their minds off their hunger.
Karl Glogauer, witch-doctor, psychiatrist, hypnotist, messiah.
Sometimes his conviction in his chosen r61e wavered and those that followed him would be disturbed when he contradicted himself. Often, now, they called him the name they had heard, Jesus the Nazarene. Most of the time he did not stop them from using the name, but at others he became angry and cried a peculiar, guttural name.
"Karl Glogaueri Karl Glogauer!" And they said. Behold, he speaks with the voice of Adonai.
"Call me not by that name!" he would shout, and they would become disturbed and leave him by himself until his anger had subsided.
When the weather changed and the winter came, they went back to Capernaum, which had become a stronghold of his followers.
In Capernaum he waited the winter through, making prophecies.
Many of these prophecies concerned himself and the fate-, of those that followed him.
Then charged he his disciples that they should tell no man that he was Jesus the Christ. From that time forth began Jesus to shew unto his disciples, how that he must go unto Jerusalem,
(Matthew 16:20-21) They were watching television at her flat. Monica was eating an apple. It was between six and seven on a warm Sunday evening. Monica gestured at the screen with her half-eaten apple.
"Look at that nonsense," she said. "You can't honestly tell me it means anything to you." The program was a religious one, about a pop-opera in a Hampstead Church. The opera told the story of the crucifixion.
"Pop-groups in the pulpit," she said. "What a comedown." He didn't reply. The program seemed obscene to him, in an obscure way. He couldn't argue with her.
"God's corpse is really beginning to rot now," she jeered.
"Whew! The stinki"
"Turn it off, then," he said quietly.
"What's the pop-group called? The Maggots?"
"Very funny. I'll turn it off, shall I?"
"No, I want to watch. It's funny."
"Oh, turn it off!"
"Imitation of Christ!" she snorted. "It's a bloody caricature." A Negro singer, who was playing Christ and singing flat to a banal accompaniment, began to drone out lifeless lyrics about the brotherhood of man.
"If he sounded like that, no wonder they nailed him up," said Monica.
He reached forward and switched the picture off.
"I was enjoying it." She spoke with mock disappointment.
"It was a lovely swan-song." Later, she said with a trace of affection that worried him, "You old fogey. What a pity. You could have been John --Wesley or Calvin or someone. You can't be a messiah these days, not in your terms. There's nobody to listen." VI The prophet was living in the house of a man called Simon, though the prophet preferred to call him Peter. Simon was grateful to the prophet because he had cured his wife of a complaint which she had suffered from for some time. It had been a mysterious complaint, but the prophet had cured her almost effortlessly.
There were a great many strangers in Capernaum at that time, many of them coming to see the prophet. Simon warned the prophet that some were known agents of the Romans or the Pharisees. The Pharisees had not, on the whole, been antipathetic towards the prophet, though they distrusted the talk of miracles that they heard. However, the whole political atmosphere was disturbed and the Roman occupation troops, from Pilate, through his officers, down to the troops, were tease, expecting an outbreak but unable to see any tangible signs that one was coming.
Pilate himself hoped for trouble on a large scale. It would prove to Tiberius that the emperor had been too lenient with the Jews over the matter of the votive shields. Pilate would be vindicated and his power over the Jews increased.. At present he was on bad terms with all the Tetrarchs of the provinces particularly the unstable Herod Antipas who had seemed at one time his only supporter. Aside from the political situation, his own domestic situation was upset in that his neurotic wife was having her nightmares again and was demanding far more attention from him than he could afford to give her.
There might be a possibility, he thought, of provoking an incident, but he would have to be careful that Tiberius never learnt of it. This new prophet might provide a focus, but so far the man had done nothing against the laws of either the Jews or the Romans. There was no law that forbade a man to claim he was a messiah, as some said this one had done, and he was hardly inciting the people to revolt rather the contrary.
Looking through the window of his chamber, with a view of the minarets and spires of Jerusalem, Pilate considered the information his spies had brought him.
.Soon after the festival that the Romans called Saturnalia, the prophet and his followers left Capernaum again and began to travel through the country.
There were fewer miracles now that the hot weather had passed, but his prophecies were eagerly asked. He warned them of all the mistakes that would be made in the future, and of all the crimes that would be committed in his name.
Through Galilee he wandered, and through Samaria, following the good Roman roads towards Jerusalem.
The time of the Passover was coming close now.
In Jerusalem, the Roman officials discussed the coming festiva
l. It was always a time of the worst disturbances.
There had been riots before during the Feast of the Passover, and doubtless there would be trouble of some kind this year, too.
Pilate spoke to the Pharisees, asking for their cooperation.
The Pharisees said they would do what they could, but they could not help it if the people acted foolishly.
Scowling, Pilate dismissed them.
His agents brought him reports from all over the territory.
Some of the reports mentioned the new prophet, but said that he was harmless.
Pilate thought privately that he might be harmless now, but if he reached Jerusalem during the Passover, he might not be so harmless.
Two weeks before the Feast of the Passover, the prophet reached the town of Bethany near Jerusalem. Some of his Galilean followers had friends in Bethany and these friends were more than willing to shelter the man they bad heard of from other pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem and the Great Temple.
The reason they had come to Bethany was that the prophet had become disturbed at the number of the people following him.
"There are too many," he had said to Simon. "Too many, Peter." Glogauer's face was haggard now. His eyes were set deeper into their sockets and he said little.
Sometimes he would look around him vaguely, as if unsure where he was.
News came to the house in Bethany that Roman agents had been making inquiries about him. It did not seem to disturb him. On the contrary, he nodded thoughtfully, as if satisfied.
Once he walked with two of his followers across country to look at Jerusalem. The bright yellow walls of the city looked splendid in the afternoon light. The towers and tall buildings, many of them decorated in mosaic reds, blues and yellows, could be seen from several miles away.
The prophet turned back towards Bethany.
"When shall we go into Jerusalem?" one of his followers asked him.
"Not yet," said Glogauer. His shoulders were hunched and he grasped his chest with his arms and hands as if cold.
Two days before the Feast of the Passover in Jerusalem, the prophet took his men towards the Mount of Olives and a suburb of Jerusalem that was built on its side and called Beth phage.
"Get me a donkey," he told them. "A colt. I must fulfill the prophecy now."
"Then all will know you are the Messiah," said Andrew.
"Yes." Glogauer sighed. He felt afraid again, but this time it was not physical fear. It was the fear of an .actor who was about to make his final, most dramatic scene and who was not sure he could do it well.
There was cold sweat on Glogauer's upper lip. He wiped it off.
In the poor light he peered at the men around him. He was still uncertain of some of their names. He was not interested in their names, particularly, only in their number.
There were ten here. The other two were looking for the donkey.
They stood on the grassy slope of the Mount of Olives, looking towards Jerusalem and the great Temple which lay below. There was a light, warm breeze blowing.
"Judas?" said Glogauer inquiringly.
There was one called Judas.
"Yes, master," he said. He was tall and good looking, with curly red hair and neurotic intelligent eyes. Glogauer believed he was an epileptic.
Glogauer looked thoughtfully at Judas Iscariot. "I will want you to help me later," be said, "when we have entered Jerusalem."
"How, master?"
"You must take a message to the Romans."
"The Romans?" Iscariot looked troubled. "Why?"
"It must be the Romans. It can't be the Jews they would use a stake or an axe. I'll tell you more when the time comes." The sky was dark now, and the stars were out over the Mount of Olives. It had become cold. Glogauer shivered.
Rejoice greatly 0 daughter of Zion, Shout, 0 daughter of Jerusalem: Behold, thy King cometh unto thee!
He is just and having salvation; Lowly and riding upon an ass, And upon a colt, the foal of an ass.
(Zechariah 9:9) "Osha'na! Osha'na! Oshc/na!" As Glogauer rode the donkey into the city, his followers ran ahead, throwing down palm branches. On both sides of the street were crowds, forewarned by the followers of his coming.
Now the new prophet could be seen to be fulfilling the prophecies of the ancient prophets and many believed that he had come to lead them against the Romans. Even now, possibly, he was on his way to Pilate's house to confront the procurator.
"Osha'na! Osha'na!" Glogauer looked around distractedly. The back of the donkey, though softened by the coats of his followers, was uncomfortable. He swayed and clung to the beast's mane. He heard the words, but could not make them out clearly.
"Osha'na! Osha'na!" It sounded like "hosanna" at first, before he realized that they were shouting the Aramaic for "Free us."
"Free us! Free usi" John had planned to rise in arms against the Romans this Passover. Many had expected to take part in the rebellion.
They believed that he was taking John's place as a rebel leader.
"No," he muttered at them as he looked around at their expectant faces. "No, I am the messiah. I cannot free you.
I can't..." They did not hear him above their own shouts.
Karl Glogauer entered Christ. Christ entered Jerusalem.
The story was approaching its climax.
"Osha'na!" It was not in the story. He could not help them.
Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me. Then the disciples looked one on another, doubting of whom he spake. Now there was leaning on Jesus' bosom one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved. Simon Peter therefore beckoned to him, that he should ask who it should be of whom he spake. He then lying on Jesus' breast saith unto him, Lord, who is it? Jesus answered, He it is, to whom I shall give a sop, when I have dipped it. And when he had dipped the sop, he gave it to Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon. And after the sop Satan entered into him. Then said Jesus unto him, That thou doest, do quickly. -(John 13:21-27) Judas Iscariot frowned with some uncertainty as he left the room and went out into the crowded street, making his way towards the governor's palace. Doubtless he was to perform a part in a plan to deceive the Romans and have the people rise up in Jesus' defense, but he thought the scheme foolhardy. The mood amongst the jostling men, women and children in the streets was tense. Many more Roman soldiers ~ than usual patrolled the city.
Pilate was a stout man. His face was self-indulgent and his eyes were hard and shallow. He looked disdainfully at the Jew.
"We do not pay informers whose information is proved to be false," be warned.
"I do not seek money, lord," said Judas, feigning the ingratiating manner that the Romans seemed to expect of the Jews. "I am a loyal subject of the Emperor."
"Who is this rebel?"
"Jesus of Nazareth, lord. He entered the city today..."
"I know. I saw him. But I heard he preached of peace and obeying the law."
"To deceive you, lord." Pilate frowned. It was likely. It smacked of the kind of deceit he had grown to anticipate in these soft-spoken people.
"Have you proof?"
"I am one of his lieutenants, lord. I will testify to his ~ guilt." Pilate pursed his heavy lips. He could not afford to offend the Pharisees at this moment. They had given him enough trouble. Caiaphas, in particular, would be quick to cry "injustice" if he arrested the man.
"He claims to be the rightful king of the Jews, the descendant of David," said Judas, repeating what his master had told him to say.
"Does he?" Pilate looked thoughtfully out of the window.
"As for the Pharisees, lord..."
"What of them?"
"The Pharisees distrust him. They would see him dead. He speaks against them." Pilate nodded. His eyes were hooded as he considered this information. The Pharisees might hate the madman, but they would be quick to make political capital out of his arrest.
"The Pharisees want him arrested," Judas continued. "The people flock to listen to the prophet and today many
of them rioted in the Temple in his name."
"Is this true?"
"It is true, lord." It was true. Some half-a-dozen people had attacked the money-changers in the Temple and tried to rob them. When they had been arrested, they had said they had been carrying out the will of the Nazarene.
"I cannot make the arrest," Pilate said musingly. The situation in Jerusalem was already dangerous, but if they were to arrest this "king," they might find that they precipitated a revolt. Tiberius would blame him, not the Jews. The Pharisees must be won over. They must make the arrest.
"Wait here," he said to Judas. "I will send a message to Caiaphas." And they came to a place which was named Gethsemane: and he saith to his disciples. Sit ye here, while I shall pray.
And he takes with him Peter and James and John, and began to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy; And saith unto them. My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto death: tarry ye here, and watch. (Mark 14:32-34) Glogauer could see the mob approaching now. For the first time since Nazareth he felt physically weak and exhausted. Tfiev were going to kill him. He had to die; he accepted that, buil he was afraid of the pain that was to come.
He sat down to the ground of the hillside, watching the torches as they came closer.
"The ideal of martyrdom only ever existed in the minds of a few ascetics," Monica had said. "Otherwise it was morbid masochism, an easy way to forgo ordinary responsibility, a method of keeping repressed people under control..."
"It isn't as simple as that..."
"It is, Kari." He could show Monica now. His regret was that she was unlikely ever to know. He had meant to write everything down and put it into the time machine and hope that it would be recovered. It was strange. He was not a religious man in the usual sense. He was an agnostic. It was not conviction that had led him to defend religion against Monica's cynical contempt for it; it was rather lack of conviction in the ideal in. which she had set her own faith, the ideal of science as a solver of all problems. He could not share her faith and there was nothing else but religion, though he could not believe in the kind of God of Christianity. The God seen as a mystical force of the mysteries of Christianity and other great religions had not been personal enough for him. His rational, mind had told him that God did not exist in any personal form. His unconscious had told him that faith in science was not enough.
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