by Marek Halter
After these words, the disciples chased us from the house.
John came to me with a sad face and said, Do not be offended. We understand the words of your son, Yeshua, but we do not yet understand him. He is right, though: Yahweh alone decides on the time of men.
Before night, the news arrived. The streets of Jerusalem were red with blood. The horsemen of Pilate the governor charged, with their spears pointed. At night, we learned that Barabbas had killed a priest of the Temple. I was told, He is a prisoner. He has been taken to Pilate’s jail. I turned angrily to John and said, Has this not opened my son’s mouth?
Above Bethany, the night sky was red with the fires burning in Jerusalem. Mariamne, the sister of my heart, wept and said, It is the blood of the people rising to heaven. As the gates of heaven were still closed, it covered heaven with our grief.
An old man joined us. He could hardly walk, and was brought in a cart. He spoke to me and said, I am Nicodemus, the Pharisee of the Sanhedrin, who came to Nazareth, to the house of Yossef the carpenter, more than twenty years ago, at the request of your father, Joachim.
I recognized him in spite of his age. He said, I am here because of you, Miriam of Nazareth. I am here because of your son, Yeshua. Take me to him. What I have to tell him is as important as his life.
John the disciple took him to Yeshua.
Nicodemus said to Yeshua, I am from the Sanhedrin, but my heart tells me that you are he who can teach us about the will of the Almighty. I prayed for God to enlighten me, and I saw your face. That is why I am here, and I say to you, Tonight, you must do something to show everyone who you are. Yeshua answered, What do you want of me? And Nicomedus said, A sign. The sign you announced. Go to the people who are destroying the Temple and raise it again in three days. And Yeshua said, How do you know that the hour has come? You know nothing, not even if you are in the hands of my Father! But Nicodemus insisted, You must give this sign, or the Romans will seize you at dawn. Caiaphas and his father-in-law, Annas, have condemned you on behalf of the Sanhedrin. They want you dead for what you did today. The people have revolted against them. At this hour of the night, they are tamed and Barabbas is in prison. Act in the hands of Yahweh or their blood will have been spilled for nothing. I say to you, the people of Jerusalem are waiting for a sign.
My son said nothing. We waited for him to give an answer to Nicodemus. Finally, he said, All of you want to hurry up time. It is all right for an impatient mother who has forgotten her place. But you, Pharisee, do you not know who decides? Your impatience is making you a slave of the world. Yet I say to you, In the world, you will have nothing but distress.
Nicodemus was disconcerted by what he heard. Even the disciples had been hoping for different words. I said to Mariamne, My son condemns me in public. Have I committed a sin? Have I committed an irreparable sin? May she remember, for it was the first time I had thought about it.
Nicodemus left as he had came. All night, Jerusalem held its breath. Thousands waited for a sign from my son.
None came. The gates of heaven were still closed.
At dawn, a Roman cohort, its tribune, and the Temple guard came to Bethany. Yeshua went with them like a lamb going to the slaughter. They led him to Caiaphas, who handed him over to Pilate the Roman. In the streets of Jerusalem, anger grew. This time, against Yeshua. We heard people say, Where has he led us? He announces that he will rebuild the Temple in three days, but he is not even capable of pushing Caiaphas from his seat! Our blood is on the streets, and for what purpose?
Claudia the Roman, who had been following Mariamne’s teaching ever since Cana, came running to me in tears and said, Pilate is my husband. He is not a bad man. I shall go and ask him for clemency for your son, Yeshua. He must not die, he must not go on the cross. I answered her, Do not forget Barabbas. He is in […]*3
[…] crowd. Him! Him! He fought for us. The other one […] sentence of Pilate owed to the vicious influence of Annas over […]
[…] knees before me and said, What shame to have been chosen by the people in place of your son! What good is this to me? This life they have given back to me, what shall I do with it? I would have preferred to die.
It was the first time I had seen tears in Barabbas’s eyes. His white head was heavy in my hands, his tears wet my palms. I raised him up. I was torn apart by his words. I embraced him and said, I am happy that you are alive, Barabbas. I am happy that the people chose you for Pilate’s clemency. I do not want to lose you as well as my son. You know as I do that our lives […]
[…] not to agree for him to be harmed. I, Claudia, had a terrifying dream last night. The fire of heaven flowed over us after his torture. Everyone assured you, Yeshua of Nazareth is a good man. If the crowd chose Barabbas, that does not mean that Yeshua’s death will not give rise to a new rebellion. And my husband answered me and said, You speak thus of this Nazarene because you have become his disciple. I, Pilate, governor of Judea, listen to what the high priest Caiaphas tells me. He knows what is good and what is bad among the Jews.
At these words, everyone sighed. The disciples protested and moaned. Claudia the Roman continued, The truth is that Pilate, my husband, is afraid of Caesar. If he shows himself to be magnanimous, in Rome they will say that he is a weak, useless governor.
After these words, we knew that there would be no pardon. Everyone went away in tears and sadness. Mariamne, the sister of my heart, asked me, Why do your eyes remain dry? Everyone is weeping except you.
May she remember my answer. I said to her, Tears are for weeping only when everything is over. For my son, Yeshua, nothing is over. And I may well be the reason for his torments of today. My heart tells me, Lacerate your face and ask the Lord to forgive you. Your son is going to die because of you. Yeshua told you, My time has not yet come, but you carried on regardless. At Cana, I forced him to give us a sign. I forced him to reveal the face of the Almighty in himself. The water of Cana became the wine of Yahweh. I had the pride of impatience. That is the sword that now pierces my soul and makes me see my sin.
And I said to Mariamne, There is no hour of the day or the night in which I do not beg the Lord God to punish me for having wanted to hurry up time. I wanted deliverance here and now. I am like the people, I want light, the love of men, and I can no longer bear the fact that heaven is closed. But what will the death of Yeshua bring? His word has not yet changed the face of the world. The Romans are still in Jerusalem. Vice is in the Temple, it reigns over the throne of Israel. Nothing is yet accomplished. And yet did I not give birth to this Yeshua so that the light of the days to come and the liberation of the people of Israel should arrive?
May Mariamne remember, these were the words I spoke. I said, I shall do what a mother must do to prevent her son from dying on the cross. Did I not prevent Herod from letting my father, Joachim, die there? I shall do it again. God may punish me. Pilate may punish me. I committed a sin, and I am ready to be punished. Let them crucify me in my son’s place. Let them nail my hands and feet.
And Mariamne answered and said, That will never be. You cannot replace Yeshua in his torment. Women have no rights here, not even the right to die on the cross.
I knew she was right. I went to Joseph of Arimathea and said, Who can come to my aid? This time, I do not want to ask anything of Barabbas. The disciples of Yeshua are pointing the finger at him. He is hiding his shame at being freed instead of my son. He suffers so much that he is losing his reason, and I can no longer rely on him. And Joseph answered me and said, I will come to your aid. I will be the one to save your son. God will decide. If it is the will of the Almighty that your son die on the cross, then Yeshua will die. If the decision belongs only to Pilate, then Yeshua will live.
We gathered together in a very small number. Joseph of Arimathea assigned roles to those who could be useful without betraying us: Nicodemus the Pharisee from the Sanhedrin, Claudia the Roman, the Essene disciples who had come from Beth Zabdai at her request […]*4
[…] raised, as Claudia the Roman had an
nounced. To the left of his cross, the man being crucified was Gestas of Jericho. A panel said that he was a murderer. To the right, the man was older than many. His name was Dismas, and he was from Galilee. Below him, his family wept and cried that he was not a thief, but a tavern keeper who did nothing but good to those around him.
On Yeshua’s cross, these words were written on a board: Yeshua, king of the Jews. In Hebrew, in Aramaic, in Greek, and in the language of Rome—all the languages of Israel. The Romans knew that the people of Jerusalem had called Yeshua this before the Temple. They wanted to humiliate all those who had believed in him.
May Mariamne remember, the mercenaries kept us, the women, at a distance, with their spears lowered. Mariamne begged and became angry, but to no avail. They would not even listen to Claudia, the wife of Pilate.
When the sun was high, the onlookers came in large numbers. Some cried, Is it there, on your cross, that you will rebuild the Temple? Others felt pity and remained silent.
Joseph of Arimathea and the disciples from Beth Zabdai arrived. They went and stood beneath the cross and chased away the people who had been shouting. Nicodemus arrived on a chair carried by his servants. His body suspended on the cross, Yeshua spoke. We women could not hear the words he was saying. I said to Mariamne, Look, he is alive. As long as his lips move, I know he is alive. And I, seeing him like this, it was as if I were dead.
The sun was higher and higher. The heat increased, and there was almost no shade. The centurion Longinus, he whose daughter Yeshua brought out of illness in Capernaum, arrived. Longinus made a sign to Claudia. He ignored Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. He ignored us who were being kept at a distance. He talked to the soldiers at the foot of the cross, and they laughed. Their laughter went right through me. Longinus was playing the role assigned him by Joseph of Arimathea, but this laughter was unbearable.
Mariamne, the sister of my heart, exclaimed, What shame! This Roman whose daughter was saved by Yeshua, and now here he is mocking. Infamy on him! The mercenaries silenced her. May she remember and forgive me. I who knew, I did not soothe her pain. I remained silent. It was the price I had to pay for the life of my son.
Joseph of Arimathea pointed to Yeshua and said, His lips are cracked with thirst. Nicodemus said, Let him drink. The disciples from Beth Zabdai cried, We must give him to drink. The centurion Longinus said, That is good. He gave the order to the mercenaries.
A soldier went to dip a cloth in a jar. Longinus had warned us, They are filled with vinegar. Thus Rome quenches the thirst of the condemned men by adding suffering to suffering. Longinus stopped the mercenary’s hand. He handed him another jug, which Nicodemus had brought in his cart without anyone noticing. Longinus said to the soldier, Use this vinegar instead. It is stronger, more suited to the king of the Jews. He laughed when the soldier dipped the cloth.
Mariamne cried out by my side. The mercenaries pushed us back harshly. I had no more breath in me. I feared everything. With the point of his spear, the mercenary stuffed the cloth into Yeshua’s mouth. I knew what was to happen, and yet my heart stopped beating.
Yeshua’s head tipped onto his chest. His eyes were closed. He might have been dead.
Mariamne fell to the ground. May she forgive my silence. I, too, did not know if my son was alive or dead. I did not know the will of the Almighty.
Large numbers were drawn by our cries and tears. The crowd pressed around Yeshua’s cross. We heard the words, There is the Nazarene. He died like a man without strength, he who was supposed to be our Messiah. Even the thieves around him are still alive.
The end of the day was approaching. The next day was the Sabbath. Most people were returning to the city. The centurion Longinus announced, He is dead, there is no point in staying here. He walked away without looking back. The mercenaries followed him.
The disciples from Beth Zabdai formed a circle around the cross and forbade anyone from approaching. The others kept their distance. They prayed and wept. And we, too, the women, were left alone. I ran to see the face of my son. It was a face without life, burned by the sun.
Joseph said to Nicodemus, It is time. Let us go to Pilate, quickly. Claudia the Roman said, I will take you. Through her tears, Mariamne was surprised and said, Why go to the Roman? I answered, To ask for my son’s body so that we can give him a dignified burial. From my face, Mariamne guessed that I was between terror and joy. She asked, What is being hidden from me?
The walls of Jerusalem were red from the twilight, but Joseph and Nicodemus had not yet returned. A cohort of mercenaries arrived. The officer ordered the soldiers, Finish off the condemned men! With a sledgehammer on a long handle, they broke the legs and ribs of the thieves. The disciples from Beth Zabdai stayed at the foot of Yeshua’s cross, ready to fight. We were petrified with fear.
The officer looked at us. He looked at my son. He mocked, This one is already dead. No point tiring yourselves out with the sledgehammers. All the same, whether for viciousness or hatred, a soldier aimed his spear. The head of it entered my son’s body. Blood flowed. Water, too. It was a good sign. I knew it. Joseph of Arimathea had told me. Yeshua my beloved was showing no sign of life. The officer said to the mercenary, You see, soon the birds will deal with him.
I fell to the ground, as if my consciousness had abandoned me. Mariamne, the sister of my heart, took me in her arms. She wept into my neck and said, He is dead! He is dead! How can God let such a thing happen? May she remember and forgive me. I did not tell her what I knew. I did not say, He is still alive. Joseph of Arimathea put him to sleep with a drug that made him appear dead. I said nothing, and I was afraid.
Joseph and Nicodemus returned with a letter from Pilate, and said, Yeshua’s body is ours. They saw the wound and said, Quick, quick.
The disciples from Beth Zabdai untied Yeshua and took him down from the cross. I thought of Obadiah, my beloved, who brought down my father in the same way from the field of crosses in Tarichea. I felt his protective wing, he was with me, my little husband. He reassured me.
I kissed my son’s brow. Joseph asked for help. A plaster was placed on the wound. His body was entirely wrapped in strips of byssus coated with ointments, and he was carried in Nicodemus’s wagon to the cave we had bought five days previously.
We women remained outside.
Joseph of Arimathea and the disciples from Beth Zabdai closed up the entrance to the cave by rolling a large stone called a gotal in front of it. Before going in, Joseph had shown me the phial, the one he had used in Beth Zabdai to bring back the old woman from death. The one that made the crowd cry out and believe in miracles.
The priests of the Sanhedrin came and asked questions before Sabbath began. The disciples, in white tunics such as are worn in the houses of the Essenes, pushed them back, saying, The Sanhedrin has no power here. Here, we come to bless, not to curse. They asked us, the women, to pray, so that our voices might be heard from afar.
In the night, Joseph came to us and said, We must go now. The disciples are guarding the cave. Let us go to the house of Nicodemus, near the pool of Siloe.
I was alone with Joseph, and I asked him, Is he alive? I want to see him. He answered, He is alive. You will not see him until Pilate’s spies are sure that the cave is his tomb.
I saw him in the night after the Sabbath. We entered the cave through a fault concealed behind a terebinth bush. My son was wrapped in linen, on a bed of moss covered with a sheet. There was myrtle in the oil of the lamps, so that there might not be a bad smell. Joseph said to me, Put your hand on him. Beneath my palm, I could feel his heart beating. Joseph said, If God wishes it, it will not be any more difficult than it was for the old woman you saved at Beth Zabdai. And God wishes it, otherwise he would not have let him survive until now.
We watched over him for three days. After three days, he opened his eyes and saw me, but the light from the lamps was dim, and he did not recognize me.
When he was able to speak, he asked Joseph, How long is it since you took me dow
n from the cross? And Joseph said, Three days. And Yeshua smiled happily and said, Did I not say that it would take me only three days to rebuild the ruined Temple?
After another night, he announced that he wanted to leave. I protested and said, You are not strong enough! For the first time in a long time, he gave me a tender look and said, What does a mother know of her son’s strength? And Nicodemus said to him, You are not safe in this land. They will be looking for you. Do not show yourself to the people. Your word will survive you. Your disciples will spread it. And Joseph of Arimathea said to him, Wait a few days, and my brothers from Beth Zabdai will take you to our house near Damascus. You will be safe there.
But he did not listen. He went away saying, I am going back whence I came. This is a road I will travel alone. Joseph of Arimathea and I understood that he intended to go all the way to Galilee. We protested again, but to no avail. Yeshua left.
When he was out of sight, when he had waved us away, we returned to the house of Nicodemus.
Mariamne, the sister of my heart, saw my distress and questioned me. I was ashamed of the secret that had closed my mouth, and I confessed to her, Yeshua is alive. Joseph of Arimathea saved him from the cross. I have done what I said. The cave was not his tomb. Mariamne cried, Where is he now? On the road to Galilee. On the road to Damascus. She ran to catch him up. I know he did not wave her away.
Barabbas joined us in the house of Nicodemus. He told us about what was happening in the city. A woman had discovered the cave open, the stone of the entrance rolled away. The crowd came to see. They called it a miracle. They cried, Yeshua was indeed what he said he was. The priests of the Sanhedrin came out on the square in front of the Temple. They said, The demons rolled the stone from before the Nazarene’s tomb. They took away his body to feed the underworld!
There were fights. Barabbas predicted, They will not fight for long. Pilate has made it known that the disciples of Yeshua will be crucified. Tomorrow, they will be as meek as lambs.