A New Kind of Zeal

by Michelle Warren

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: Petone

  Rachel stood next to the waterfront.

  They were in Petone – in Hikoikoi Reserve, off Marine Parade. A strong southerly was blowing off the harbour. Joshua stood with his back to the harbour – the breeze lifted his brown curls, and his voice across the crowd.

  Behind him, Rachel could see across the choppy water all the way to the ferry terminus, on the right, and the high-rise buildings of the central city. Mount Victoria was across the water to the left. Beyond the high hill was Wellington Airport – and, beyond this, was the entrance to the harbour: the way to the South Island.

  Would Joshua go there next? She wondered. Why not? Picton, Nelson, Christchurch, Dunedin…there were many more people to meet.

  In front of Joshua, there in Petone, was quite a large crowd. Many were actually following him progressively down, from Upper Hutt and Lower Hutt, but Rachel also noticed a lot of new Maori and Pacific Island faces. She was sure most of these would continue to follow him, into the city centre. Where would he go? Rachel smiled sadly, looking toward the Beehive. He wouldn’t get much of a reception there.

  Her own home was across the other side, further west, to her right, in Churton Park. Would she go back? Would she visit her father? She couldn’t tell – was just taking one day at a time.

  “Keep following!” Joshua called out to the crowd, from behind her. “Keep persevering! Don’t lose heart, even when things get hard! Don’t be afraid, even when war is at your doorstep.”

  Rachel looked at him again. Joshua – such an ordinary looking guy! He was still in those jeans, even now! He had a cream long-sleeved cotton shirt on, with the arms rolled up to his elbows, and was shivering a bit in the breeze – Rachel was sure he wasn’t really noticing his body was cold.

  How had he managed to stir up so many people? Rachel knew how. He had reached the heart of them: he had given to them, and offered into their deepest hopes and needs.

  How many were there now? Ten thousand? His voice lifted on the wind – everyone heard him. Rachel looked around the different coloured faces: they represented so many nations in the world, now – all mixed up in a melting pot, which was the new society.

  “This age will not last forever!” Joshua said. “Birth pains! Birth pains. A new time is coming – but that time will cost! There will be fighting – brother will rise against brother, father against son, daughter against father: all will be divided! Each must decide! Each must decide, before the time comes: before this age is ushered out, and the next age is brought in.”

  “What are you saying?” A Pakeha European man asked. “Aren’t you bringing peace?”

  “Yes!” Joshua said. “Peace! But peace always comes with conditions, and a price – peace always demands some form of allegiance. Where will your allegiance lie, when the testing time comes? Who will you hold to, when the battle is before you?”

  A Maori man raised his voice. “Kaumatua,” he said, “Aotearoa has seen war before.”

  “Ae,” Joshua said, “we have!”

  “Are you wanting to bring war to our land again?”

  “No!” Joshua said. “I have no desire for war! But sometimes a battle is necessary, to achieve the higher ground.”

  “Are you telling us to get weapons?” A Chinese lady called out.

  “No!” Joshua said. “You yourselves must remain innocent! Be pure, as God is pure! If an enemy hits you, don’t hit him back! Don’t give evil for evil: overcome evil with goodness!”

  Rachel felt moved by the words – stirred into greater goodness.

  “And what if we fail?” It was a voice Rachel recognised – she searched, and found him: Tristan! He was still with them.

  Joshua’s eyes moved to him – he was silent for a moment, smiling sadly: that same knowing smile.

  “If you should fail,” Joshua said, his eyes moving over the entire crowd, “then come to me, and we will fix it together. I will make it right! I will carry it! A loving father forgives, when a child fails – if that child turns back again into the light.”

  His eyes moved again to settle on Tristan. “God is not a father of retribution,” he said. “God longs to forgive, and to heal. If you follow me, you become my whanau – my family.”

  Tristan looked stricken by the words. Rachel watched him, concerned – something was going on between them! So often she had experienced this from Joshua: some hidden deeper meaning.

  “Come to me,” Joshua said, “and I will give you peace! Learn from me. Love one another. Care for one another. Search for God, and you will find him. God is greater than humanity – God is our beginning and our end. Search for him, find him, and live.

  “I am the bridge,” Joshua said. “I am the bridge, between you and God! I am the doorway into light, and away from darkness. Walk across the bridge! Enter through the door! Soon I will open the door for you…”

  Now his expression changed – now his gaze became distant.

  “Soon I will burst open the way!” he said. “But I can’t make you walk through it! You must choose! You must choose to walk through the door, into the light! Into true life: life here, and into the next age, now and forever.”

  “What do you mean?” an Indian man asked. “Are you talking about a spiritual life? Which god do you follow?”

  Joshua looked at him, and smiled. “One God,” he said. “One God, the creator of all. One Spirit, the source of life for all.”

  “Isn’t that arrogance?” the man asked. “We Hindi have many gods – we choose our own gods.”

  “You may choose whatever gods you wish,” Joshua said. “That doesn’t mean they are fit to save you. What is the truth? Choose carefully. The End is coming soon: who will still be standing when the tsunami is upon you?”

  The Indian man tilted his head, watching him. Rachel glanced back at the Harbour. A tsunami? It was a chilling metaphor for those who lived in Wellington: for those who wondered about ‘the big one’ – a massive earthquake offshore, and a vast tsunami to quickly follow…

  Another European man spoke, this one with an English accent.

  “Joshua!” he said. “How can humanity possibly know any truth about a ‘God’ with any certainty?”

  “How much certainty do you need?” Joshua asked.

  “That’s not my point,” the man said. “We cannot know! We are only human. Each person defines truth for themselves – there is nothing more than this.”

  Now Joshua’s face turned grim. “Reality is reality,” he said, “and truth is truth. Is it not true?” He smiled wryly. “Humanity reads the truth – humanity does not define it. Men and women see truth as a grey haze – but they are not blind entirely.”

  “Impossible!” the man muttered, but Joshua continued:

  “Use your vision,” he said, “don’t throw it away! Use what vision you have. Use it with humility – use it for good. Use it to search out truth: use it to find the way.”

  “But what is the right way?” a Russian woman called out.

  “I am the right way!” Joshua said. “Listen to what I’m saying: I am telling you the truth! I am the way into life – and not only life here: life forever, in the next age. Hold onto me – don’t let me go! Hold onto me, trust in me, trust in God – and you will live.”

  Rachel gazed at him, captivated – but now others were stirring in the crowd.

  “Sir,” a Korean man said, “you seem to be quoting Jesus Christ.”

  Joshua looked at him, and smiled. “You’re right,” he said, “I am. And you’re not far from him.”

  “But…how can that be?” His gentle face was thoughtful, exploring – and then another spoke out.

  “You are quoting Jesus Christ,” this young man said, “and it’s unacceptable! Stop now, repent, or you’ll go straight to Hell!”

  Joshua looked at him. “Do you want me to go to Hell?” he asked, and the man straightened, looking unsettled.

  “No.”

  “Neither do I want you to go to Hell.”

&n
bsp; Their eyes held – Rachel was surprised at Joshua’s words, and so was the young man.

  “Never mind Hell,” someone else said, “it’s just wrong! You can’t put yourself forward as Jesus Christ!”

  A few other cries went up, in support of this.

  “And, anyway,” someone else said, “what is all this talk of allegiance, and war? What are you planning?”

  “Yes,” others said, “what are you planning?”

  “Are you planning a coup?” That voice was different. Rachel searched around – there was a young man, in the crowd: suit trousers, shirt, and tie. Rachel recognised him! He was one of her father’s MPs – the Minister of National Security: the Honourable Trevor Bates!

  Now the crowd melted away – and Bates walked up to stand face to face with Joshua.

  “Is that your plan?” he repeated – and now Rachel noticed there were police officers standing behind him: about ten! A lot, with their stretched resources. What was her father up to?

  “Are you about to march into Parliament?”

  A ripple of voices spread across the crowd. Joshua march into Parliament? Surely not.

  “That is not my plan,” Joshua said, holding his eyes.

  “Your ways threaten our democratic state!”

  “My ways are not a threat to you,” Joshua said.

  “Talk of a monarchy!” Bates said. “Talk of a battle ahead. Listen carefully, New Zealanders! This man is stirring dissension in our peaceful land! He is stirring war!”

  Rachel saw Joshua swallow at this, but he still held the minister’s eyes.

  “The monarchy is real,” he said, “but not as you understand it. You yourself have your own queen, and she sits back and protects your freedom: why should you be afraid of me?”

  “I am not afraid,” Bates said, “I am taking action.”

  “I have committed no crime,” Joshua said, looking at the police. “Let anyone who has been following me testify against me, if I am lying.”

  The police looked amongst themselves, and at the crowd, and at Joshua, and did not move. The MP glanced at him, and then back at Joshua.

  “You are bartering,” he said, and Joshua shook his head.

  “I am gifting. There is no gift duty.”

  Bates grimaced. “You are familiar enough with our law.”

  “I am – I have not broken it.”

  “If you continue this way, our tax will be turned on its head: parliament will fall – the government will have no power.”

  “I have no desire to overturn the government’s power,” Joshua said. “My power is of a different kind entirely. The power of secular rule, and the power of God: each to their own.”

  Bates shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

  “Very well,” he said, “you have committed no crime yet. Make sure it stays that way.”

  And he turned his back, and walked away, muttering to the police officers as he went.

  Rachel frowned. Parliament: what were they thinking? Her eyes drifted across the water of the harbour again, toward the Beehive, and then her phone rang.

  Embarrassed, in the silence, she reached to turn it off – but she saw it was her father, and opened it.

  “Dad?” she whispered.

  “Rachel,” Connor said.

  “What the hell’s going on?”

  “Joshua is going on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Stay away from him, Rachel.”

  “What?”

  “Just stay away from him – it’s not safe.”

  He had gone. Rachel stared at the phone in her hand – and then looked up at Joshua.

  “Don’t be afraid!” he was saying again. “The battle is coming! Be ready! Know where your allegiance lies.”

  Suddenly, with a chill, she understood his meaning.

  “My God…” she whispered. “Where is all this leading?”

  Her allegiance: where did it lie? With her father? With the government? With New Zealand? There should be no conflict! There was no conflict – Joshua had said it himself! But they did not understand: they would force a choice! They would force a choice…

  “Oh my God…”

  Would she leave, or would she stay?

  She looked at Joshua – at his plain face, and his casual clothes. Did she believe in God? She didn’t know! Still didn’t know, despite everything she had seen – everything she had experienced. But she did believe in Joshua. Not exactly a divine belief – a human belief. And yet, he was more than human somehow: greater than normal humanity.

  Joshua was someone she aspired to – someone she wished she was like.

  Would she leave, now? Leave, out of fear?

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said to the crowd.

  “I won’t,” she said, “I won’t be afraid.”

  And she chose, in that moment, to stay: she chose, in that moment, to keep following.