Fishers of Men

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Fishers of Men Page 31

by Gerald N. Lund


  “That’s Messianic,” David whispered.

  Now David understood. Jesus had specifically chosen a scripture that was understood by all to be a prophecy of the coming of the Messiah.

  Jesus paused, and his eyes moved across the front row of onlookers, who glared at him, angry that he had not read from the place he had been assigned. When Jesus went on, he did so even more slowly than before, pausing to look up after each new phrase. “‘He hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted; to preach deliverance to the captives and for the recovering of sight to the blind; to set at liberty them that are bruised; to preach the acceptable year of the Lord.’”

  It was as though every person in the room had stopped breathing. The silence had deepened to the point of almost unbearable tension. The young carpenter slowly set the pointer back in its slot, then closed the lid on the ark. Finally, he looked up. “This day,” he said softly, “is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.”

  The pent-up breath exploded in shock and dismay. Amram the Pharisee shot to his feet. “What!” he shouted. “What did you say?”

  “This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.”

  Now people were leaping to their feet on every side of David and Simeon. “Blasphemy!” Hezekiah of Sepphoris screamed, shaking his fist at Jesus. “How dare you!”

  Aaron was up as well, his face white with shock. He spun around and looked at David. “Did you hear that?” he hissed. “He claims to be the Messiah.” He spun back around, glaring at Jesus. The synagogue was in pandemonium, with everyone on their feet. Small puffs of dust were rising from the floor as people stamped their feet in fury. Simeon was astonished. There was no way to mistake what Jesus had just done—in that Uncle Aaron was right. Jesus had just read a Messianic prophecy, then announced that today it was being fulfilled. There was only one way to interpret that. He looked at his father and saw that he was deeply shaken as well. Then Simeon caught a glimpse of the face of the woman he had assumed was Jesus’ mother. Her eyes were wide and frightened as she watched the congregation explode in rage.

  “You are Joseph’s son!” the ruler of the synagogue shouted.

  The legate had leaped forward to stand beside Jesus. He slammed a fist against the lid of the ark, something that was strictly forbidden. “You claim to be the promised Messiah? Outrage!”

  Jesus had been looking down, not looking into the eyes of his accusers. Now he lifted his head. The bedlam died away in an instant. “I know what you are thinking. You would say to me, ‘Whatsoever things you have done in Capernaum, do also here in our country.’”

  He looked around the room, and Simeon was surprised to see what looked like profound sorrow in his eyes.

  “Verily I say unto you, no prophet is accepted in his own country.” His eyes stopped on the ones who stood in the front rows, their faces dark with fury. “But I tell you of a truth, there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, when great famine was throughout all the land, but unto none of them was Elijah sent, save unto Sarepta, a city of Sidon, unto a woman that was a widow.”

  The muttering began to rise as the impact of what he was saying hit them. Sidon was a Gentile city. The widow of Sarepta was not an Israelite.

  His voice rose sharply. “And many lepers were in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet; and none of them was cleansed, saving Naaman the Syrian.”

  “Enough!” Amram roared, his face livid. “He blasphemes the name of God and the name of Israel.”

  “Away with him!” another shouted.

  “Imposter! Deceiver!”

  Simeon now saw his own mother’s face. She was staring at her brother in shock, and only then did Simeon realize that it was his uncle who had shouted those last words.

  “No,” a woman cried. “Let him speak.”

  “Let us hear him,” a man from behind Simeon agreed.

  But the rest of the crowd overrode any such moderation. The legate of the synagogue grabbed Jesus by the arm and jerked him forward. In an instant the ruler of the synagogue had him by the other arm. “Out! Out of our synagogue!”

  “Death to the blasphemer!” a man from behind Simeon shouted.

  They rushed at him, and Jesus was surrounded. Hands snatched at his robe. Two men pinned his arms behind him. As they moved forward, another man shoved him hard from behind, and he was prevented from going down only by the press of the crowd. With a roar of triumph, they dragged him toward the door, then poured out of the synagogue and into the streets of Nazareth.

  “Come on!” David said, motioning to Simeon and Yehuda.

  “What?” Simeon cried. Surely his father was not going to become part of this.

  “We’ve got to stop them. They’re going to kill him.” He spun around, moving for the door. But they were already too late. The crush of people had completely plugged the narrow entrance of the synagogue. Everyone was fighting to get out, shouting, crying, shrieking. Others pushed in from behind, cutting off any movement from any direction. Suddenly, Deborah and Shana were at their side. “What’s happening?” Deborah cried. “What are they going to do to him?”

  David shook his head, thrusting out with his elbows to fend off those who were fighting to get through. He arched his neck to see if there was another way out and spotted a door leading to the back of the synagogue. “This way,” he shouted. Bellowing like a bull, he lowered his shoulder and hurled himself against the flow. Simeon grabbed his mother and pulled her in behind him. Yehuda did the same with Shana as they also plowed after David.

  Even fighting with all their strength, it took another minute to force their way through the pressing crowd and break free. The sound was deafening. Now the angry shouts and furious yells were mingled with screams of panic as people began to be crushed in the stampede for the door.

  Once free, David walked swiftly to the back, where daylight showed beneath a door. “Yes!” He took Deborah’s arm and pulled her with him. The others fell in behind them.

  In a moment they were outside and felt the rush of cooler air. David didn’t hesitate. “Stay here, Deborah. You too, Shana. Come on, Simeon, Yehuda.” He leaped forward, heading for the street in front of the synagogue.

  The street was a mass of people. David jumped into the air even as he ran, trying to see over the heads. There was no mass, no clot of angry men, just small groups of people fluttering around and talking in great excitement. He grabbed a man and spun him around. “What did they do with Jesus?” he demanded.

  The man jerked away, then pointed. “There. They’re taking him there.”

  He was pointing to a spot off in the distance, and David wasn’t sure what it was. There were houses, then forest and ridges beyond. “Where?”

  But the man had already slipped away. He confronted another. “Where are they taking Jesus?”

  This man just shook his head, but a woman heard his question. She turned, obviously greatly distraught. “To the precipice.”

  David rocked back. “What?”

  She pointed now too, and finally David and Simeon and Yehuda saw what she was pointing at. On the edge of town, the Nazareth Ridge rose to a single high point, then dropped off sharply. “They said they were going to throw him off the cliff,” the woman said with half a sob.

  David spun, grabbing for Simeon’s arm. “Let’s go!”

  But as they crossed the street, they ran headlong into a line of men standing shoulder to shoulder. One of them was the ruler of the synagogue. He held up both hands, and they slid to a halt.

  “Let us through,” David shouted.

  “No. You are not from here. This is not your affair.”

  “They’ve got to be stopped,” David exclaimed. “You can’t do this.”

  “Go home!” another man snarled. “This is our concern. We know what to do with blasphemers.”

  For a moment Simeon thought his father was going to hurl himself into the line, and he
grabbed him by the shoulder. Yehuda did the same, and they pulled him back. “No, Father,” Simeon shouted into his ear. “You can’t fight them.”

  IV

  A quarter of an hour later the crowd outside the synagogue still filled the street. They were milling around, waiting for the group that had taken Jesus to return. David’s group stood off to one side, speaking in low, shocked tones about what had happened. David was still shaking with anger, and Deborah spoke softly to him, trying to calm him down. On every side the people’s conversations swirled around two things—the astonishment at what Jesus had said about himself and the shock of what had happened next.

  Then a shout pulled them around. Coming down the street toward the synagogue was a crowd of men, obviously the ones who had dragged Jesus off. The crowd surged forward, but the line of men across the street held them back. The ruler of the synagogue left the line and ran out to meet the returning group. They conversed quickly and angrily. When they finished, the ruler walked back and said something, and the line broke up.

  “There’s Aaron,” David said. Without waiting for the others, he darted forward. Simeon took his mother’s hand, and they followed swiftly.

  Aaron saw them at the same time. It looked for a moment as if he was going to try to duck into the crowd and avoid them, but he saw that they had seen him and raised one hand in a halfhearted wave.

  “What happened?” David cried.

  Aaron looked around, embarrassed that David’s exclamation had caused several of the returning men to turn and look at them. “It’s over,” he said, taking David’s arm and trying to pull him aside.

  David jerked away, then grabbed Aaron’s shoulders and shook him. “You didn’t—” he gasped.

  Aaron’s mouth tightened. “I didn’t do anything.” He stepped back. Now Simeon, Deborah, Shana, and Yehuda came up to them as well. “Besides, he escaped.”

  “Escaped?” David exclaimed, his shoulders sagging with relief.

  “Yes, he slipped out of their grasp and escaped into the forest. There are some out looking for him now, but he’s gone.”

  “Did you try to stop them, Uncle Aaron?” Simeon said, not trying to hide his disgust.

  Aaron whirled. “Don’t speak to me that way, Simeon. I don’t answer to you.”

  “Even if the man is deluded,” Simeon shot right back, “you don’t kill a person for that.”

  Deborah was still partly in shock. “You didn’t try to kill him, did you, Aaron?”

  “No. I told you that. I didn’t take part in that.”

  “But you were with them,” Simeon shot back. “Is that what you Pharisees stand for? Kill anyone who disagrees with you?”

  For a moment Simeon thought his uncle was going to strike him, but then he pulled back, his lip trembling. “This is not just any delusion, my arrogant young nephew. This man publicly claimed that he is the Messiah. That is blasphemy! But worse than that, do you know what Rome will do if they hear about this? That someone is claiming to be the Messiah?”

  Yehuda spoke for the first time. “Let Rome come. We will be ready.”

  Aaron was incredulous. “You too, Yehuda? You think this Jesus is the Messiah?”

  Yehuda emphatically shook his head. “No. I think the man is mad. But I’m not sure his delusion can do us more harm than you so-called religious leaders are doing.”

  Aaron started to sputter, but to Simeon’s surprise it was Yehuda that his father turned on. “Don’t be too quick to judge a man mad, Yehuda. Pharaoh considered Moses to be mad too. Would you condemn a man before you have learned if he speaks the truth?”

  Deborah drew in a sharp breath. “David, surely you don’t believe what Jesus said? He claimed to be the Messiah.”

  “It’s blasphemy,” Aaron blurted, nodding in vigorous agreement with his sister. “Surely you can see that, David.”

  It was a rare thing to see David of Capernaum angry. Simeon had seen it only a few times in all his life, but now his father spun around to face his brother-in-law, his face white, his hands trembling. “It is blasphemy only if he is not the Messiah, Aaron.”

  “David!” Deborah cried, reaching out for his hand. “Be careful of what you say.”

  He ignored her, still looking at Aaron. “You have to prove that he is not the Messiah, Aaron. Our law says that a man gets a trial, even for blasphemy. How do you and your friends, who claim to have so much love for the Law, justify trying to throw a man off a cliff without a trial?”

  He turned away, not waiting for an answer.

  They were all shocked into silence. Aaron had never seen this kind of emotion in his brother-in-law. Finally he looked at his sister. “I wasn’t part of the group that wanted to throw him off the precipice, Deborah. Amram and I stayed back.”

  “Did you try to stop them?” Simeon asked. “Did you even raise your voice in protest?”

  Aaron flushed. “I don’t have to answer to you, Simeon. Now stay out of this.”

  Deborah stepped between them. “Aaron, you know my feelings. I think what Jesus did in there is shocking. I still can’t believe my ears. But in this other matter, David is right. To drag a man out and try to kill him without even a hearing? I never raised you to be part of something like that.”

  “Deborah, I—”

  But suddenly David was back. He was calmer now, though his voice was still filled with emotion. “I have one more question for you and Amram and the rest of the Pharisees,” he said.

  Aaron hesitated, not sure that he wanted to hear it.

  “How far would you say it is from here to the edge of the precipice?” David asked.

  Aaron’s mouth opened slightly. “How far?” That was the last question he had expected. “I don’t know. More than a mile, I suppose.”

  “More than a Sabbath day’s journey?” David asked softly.

  The shock was evident in Aaron’s eyes. It was something that he had not once thought about until this moment.

  David shook his head, and now his eyes held only sadness. “So here’s my question, Aaron. Does your tradition allow an exception to the Sabbath day’s journey in the case of murder?” Then, again without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away, leaving Aaron, his face totally drained of color, to stare after him.

  V

  “Well, are we even going to talk about it?” She spoke as though she addressed everyone, but Shana was looking directly at Simeon. They were nearly back to the village of Beth Neelah now, and since leaving Nazareth they had barely spoken; no one had said a word about what they had just witnessed.

  “Shana!” Yehuda warned.

  Her lips clamped tight, and she shot Simeon a withering look, as if to say, “Why aren’t you helping me in this?” Simeon shook his head. Part of their silence was the result of what had happened in the synagogue. In a lifetime of going to Sabbath worship, they had never seen it erupt into open riot, unrestrained fury, and attempted murder. But deeper than that for Simeon and his mother was what had happened between David and Aaron. There had always been an uneasy truce between David and his brother-in-law. Philosophically, they were as different as calf and chicken. In temperament they were furlongs apart. Normally such deep differences would have led to constant conflict, but for Deborah’s sake David had simply made up his mind that he would not battle with Aaron. Though Aaron sometimes deliberately tried to needle David into a reaction, he too had realized that if he pushed too hard, he would lose Deborah’s devotion and loyalty. And so for years now, they maintained an unspoken resolve to hold back. That had all shattered in the street in front of the synagogue, and it was going to take some time to sort through the aftermath of what had just happened.

  But to Simeon’s surprise, it was his father who responded to Shana. He and Deborah were a few paces out in front of the others. He slowed his step and looked at her. “Would you like to talk about it, Shana?”

  Shana was surprised at that response but recovered quickly. “I would. I am full of questions.”

  “
Such as?”

  “Did I hear him correctly? Was Jesus really announcing that he was the Messiah there in the synagogue?”

  Now it was Deborah who nodded, relieved to be talking about it now as well. “Yes, Shana. When he said, ‘This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears,’ I think there’s only one way to interpret that. That’s what sent everybody into a rage.”

  “Not everybody, Deborah,” David reminded her softly. “There were quite a few people there who were shocked, but not to the point of trying to kill the man.”

  Simeon spoke up then. “If he is not the Messiah, then in one way Aaron and the others were right. That does come very close to being blasphemy, and blasphemy is a capital crime under our law.”

  His father stopped dead, planting his feet. “Are you saying that those men were justified in trying to kill Jesus?”

  Simeon backed down quickly. “No, I didn’t mean that. As you said, the man deserves a trial if charges like that are to be brought forward, but . . . ” He shook his head, suddenly tired of it. “I guess I am like Shana. I can’t believe he would stand up and publicly say such a thing.”

  “Unless he really is the Messiah,” David responded in a low voice.

  No one spoke, having too much respect for Simeon’s father—but the silence was almost as eloquent as if they had each shouted aloud. After a moment he smiled sadly. “Do you think I do not understand your minds? Do you think I do not see the disbelief in your eyes? Speak! Shana is right. It is time to say what we are feeling in our hearts.”

  The four of them looked at each other, no one wanting to be the first.

  “I see only three possibilities,” David said, encouraging them further. “First, he is an imposter. He has deliberately chosen to set himself up as the Messiah even though he knows he is not. In that case, it is blasphemy and should be punished severely. Second, he is mad or terribly deluded. In other words, he truly thinks he is the Messiah, but is not. If that is true, then he should be pitied and helped. The third possibility is . . . ” He shrugged. “Well, I don’t think any of you are ready to even consider that, so let’s talk about the other two.”

 

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