The passion of our lord Jesus Christ
Book Four
Chapter Twenty-Two
JERUSALEM
That last Sabbath, they were in silence the whole day before sundown and the evening meal, which they all prepared. In the town of Ephraim, on the border of Judea, they discussed the next day well into the night. For the Pesach was at hand, and every good Jew who could, Jesus or not, danger or not, was headed into Jerusalem.
“I am not so concerned for what will happen there as what will happen afterward,” Jesus confided in Magdalene while they sat on the roof over the courtyard of the old, once abandoned house, watching the swelling moon.
She looked at him, but did not ask, “How so?”
“Since the first time the Devil came to me, with my very face and very hands, I have eschewed the victor’s way, turned away from the path of a warrior king leading armies, of banners with crowns on them declaring me. I refused to be the battle general, uniting all Israel, spreading my might over the world. Yes… that was one of many paths I turned from. It is not my way.
“And yet it is the way of men. I have seen it already. I have seen the spears, the banners lifted in my name, not now, but long from now, for people will use anyone to make a God of war. I see banners with blood red crosses, men speaking for me to bring death to others, men of hatred spreading words I never said and somewhere in this… somewhere will be the way of salvation.”
“There is no other way?”
“I have worked so that there will be another way, but the whole reason I came into this world was to join earth to heaven and man to God, and when man shows up blood shows up. Evil shows up… I…”
He shook his head.
“The Kingdom of Heaven is taken by force and the violent bear it away. People of good will and discontented heart will always, always have to find the narrow way, find it again and again, for it will be lost in pride and pomp and… general laziness. I have seen it. I have done what I could to prevent the coming evil, to minimalize it, to hallow it. But I have seen it.”
“Your people, your nation… your church?”
“It will always stand, but it will stand on the fringes. That’s where its home is. Wherever you are it will be. So many will come in my name to lead it saying things I never said, never did. And I fear for you. And for the women.”
Mary said nothing, knowing this was the time for Jesus to speak.
“They’ll say things about you that were never true, my dear. Call you a whore when they do not forget you. Say that seven demons possessed you, attribute your words to others, say you are only a woman and not in the image of God, because they have made God less. They will say the Kingdom of God is the kingdom of men and trade love for certainty.”
“Will you always be at my side?”
“I will be at the side of anyone who calls.”
Magdalene exhaled and looked at her feet.
“It is you who have always urged us to live in this day, in this moment, where our daily bread is given. You always said in this time and not another God acts. So let us live in this time, friend. If you are with me, the rest does not matter.”
Late in the morning they passed through Jericho, and people had longed to see the man in the great red robe that flowed about him like flame. They were all on their way to Jerusalem, and why not leave now? Or some of them had not been going there, but why not leave now? A large crowd had gathered around them, made even larger when a man named Zacchaeus, a tax collector, was called down from a tree. He had been too short to see Jesus, but longed to see him, and Jesus had dinner with him that night. He was welcomed by Matthew and Alphaeus, and here again was that great feeling of celebration, the feeling that, no matter what was about to happen in Jerusalem, something great was happening here now. They were up well into the night.
So a large crowd followed Jesus and Magdalene, John and Cleophas and Peter and Rachel and all the disciples as they were leaving the next day. A blind beggar by the name of Bartimaeus was sitting beside the road. The Jericho road was always busy, but today it was more crowded than ever, filled with the sounds of celebration, and he shouted to know what was going on. When he heard that it was Jesus from Nazareth, Bartimaeus called, “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!”
Louder and louder, more insistent he became over the noise of the people, and many of them shouted back for Bartimaeus to stop, but he shouted even louder, “Son of David, have pity on me!”
Jesus’s ears perked. He heard him over all the others and shook Philip, pointing toward the ragged man. “Call him over!”
And then the crowd changed. Even those who wished to travel on and resented being stuck in the middle of the road waited. They called out to the blind man and said, “Don't be afraid!”
“Come on, now!”
“Come now, come!”
“He is calling for you.”
Bartimaeus threw off his coat as he jumped up and tripped toward the sound of Jesus’s voice, guided by laughing, joking, but stupid men, until Magdalene cut in, took him by the hand and led him to the Lord..
“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked, as if the man’s eyes were not covered in skuzzy grey and his pupils obscured by film poached eggs.
“Master,” Bartimaeus answered, “I want to see!”
“Then your eyes are healed,” Jesus said, without even touching him, “because of your faith.”
The man shouted and covered his eyes, alarmed by sudden vision, and Magdalene and Joanna bound his eyes and Susanna said, “Gently, gently now.”
“Must I go?” Bartimaeus asked, peering through gauze with his new an teary sight.
“Must I go, or may I remain with you.
There was something like laughter in Jesus’s voice. He touched Bartimaeus’s scraggly cheek.
“Follow me,” Jesus said.
And so he did.
“When the Son of Man comes in his glory with all his angels, he will sit on his royal throne. The people of all nations will be brought before him, and he will separate them, as shepherds separate their sheep from their goats.”
He sat on the rise over the river, where Nikodemos had come to him almost three years earlier, and not far from it, Jesus could feel at his back the entrance to the tombs from which he had, not long ago, called Lazaros back to life. So many of these people had come traveling, looking for something like adventure or possibly, probably newness of life, but where would they all stay? For once it was the Son of Man who had some place to lay his head, who would stay in the house of Mary and Marta and the newly married Lazaros. Some of these were fine on their own, fine to return to Jericho or to sleep here in an encampment or find a place in the inn, but what of Bartimaeus, that recently blind man, one who, unlike the rich young man in Arimathea had indeed followed him?
“He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘My father has blessed you! Come and receive the kingdom that was prepared for you before the world was created. When I was hungry, you gave me something to eat, and when I was thirsty, you gave me something to drink. When I was a stranger, you welcomed me, and when I was naked, you gave me clothes to wear. When I was sick, you took care of me, and when I was in jail, you visited me.’
“Then the ones who pleased the Lord will ask, ‘When did we give you something to eat or drink? When did we welcome you as a stranger or give you clothes to wear or visit you while you were sick or in jail?’
“The King will answer, ‘Whenever you did it for any of my people, no matter how unimportant they seemed, you did it for me.”
Yes, Bartimaeus must stay by his side, certainly, and so many others. Tonight, so close to Pesach, and so close to what he knew would be a very different Pesach, the people of Bethany, Simon and Seruiah, Nikodemous with his second house, as well as Mary and Marta would simply have to make room. Blessed be God that the weather was fair this deep into spring.
“Then the King will say to those on his left, “‘Get away from me! You are under God's curse. Go into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels! I was hungry, but you did not give me anything to eat, and I was thirsty, but you did not give me anything to drink. I was a stranger, but you did not welcome me, and I was naked, but you did not give me any clothes to wear. I was sick and in jail, but you did not take care of me.’
“Then the people will ask, ‘Lord, when did we fail to help you when you were hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in jail?’
“The king will say to them, ‘Whenever you failed to help any of my people, no matter how unimportant they seemed, you failed to do it for me.’”
Peter woke unaccountably sad.
He longed for an end to this, an end to whatever road they were on. He longed for the wide Sea of Galiliee, catching fish in the morning and roasting them over a fire, for the oil and herbs and bread that went with the fish and a jug of cool wine. He wished for the luxury of an ordinary life as the sun rose over the water. Temple or no, he hated the south. He hated these cliffs and high hills and the inability to see the horizon. He hated these cities so close together. He barely allowed himself to say it: He hated Jerusalem.
Judas, John and Alphaeus and Matthew slept like nude sardines, spooned into one another. Jesus was already awake, sitting naked in the great window, the sun shining on his body, and Judas loved him, had always loved this strange man, loved every tangle of his black hair, loved his long feet and hands. But he was done. He was exhausted with this. When he was not naked he was dressed in violent red, and all of his thoughts were flirtations with dying. It was almost a relief to enter the city today, but Judas thought, if he could end this, if he could take them back to where they were, then he would.
Whatever they had been feeling, by midmorning, as they began to travel toward the Mount of Olives, Jude striking up his harp and playing ballads, they were in better spirits. Marta had come down and wrapped Jesus in a white robe and white mantle, whiter than the first, and she and Magdalene had whispered prayers over him and sent him out of the house, followed by the disciples, all in their white, or off white, or near white, and behind them had come Bartimaeus, Joanna, Susanna, Malthace and Photine, and many others. With them came Lazaros and Simon the Leper. There was now something solemn about their journey out of Bethany, and rather than the valley they usually traveled, they took the ridge which brought them to Bethphage.
Even as they approached the village, Jesus said to Nathanael and Zelotes, “Go into that village, where you will at once find a donkey and her colt. Untie the two donkeys and bring them to me. If anyone asks why you are doing this, just say, ‘The Lord needs them.’ He will at once let you have the donkeys.”
They ran on ahead as Jesus continued his slow walk to the town, and as he came into it, people knelt before him calling, “Hosanna, Hosanna!”
Some had taken the branches from the trees and were laying them at his feet, and now Philip and Nathanael came, amazed, and Jesus mounted the donkey they brought.
And then Jude cried out as he had almost three years ago when they had been traveling to a wedding in Cana, as one did on procession to Jerusalem during the time of water gathering:
“Hoshanna! Hoshanna!
Please, God please, save please and deliver please,
you are our father! Save please, God please,
please deliver, Hoshanna!
“Save please, forgive please and make us prosper please,
and deliver us, God our strength!
Hoshanna!”
And now they were all traveling prayerfully out of this town on the Mount of Olives toward the bridge that crossed Kidron Valley and led to the Golden Gate of Jerusalem, and they were joining the path with, as far as Judas could see, greater crowds lining it to hail Jesus. Now, hearing Jude’s song from those traveling all in white about Jesus, the crowds shouted:
“Hosanna to the Son of David!
God bless the one who comes
in the name of the Lord.
Hooray for God
in heaven above!”
They were taking the branches from the trees to line the ground, and throwing down their cloaks in ecastasy.
“God's promise has come true,” many murmured, “just as the prophet had said!”
Bartimaeus quoted, to himself, as he shook at the noise around him:
“Announce to the people
of Jerusalem:
‘Your king is coming to you!
He is humble
and rides on a ass.
He comes on the colt
of an ass.’ ”
Many spread cloak in the road, while others put down branches which they had cut from trees. Some people walked ahead of Jesus and others followed behind. They were all shouting,
“Hosanna! Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed be the one who comes
in the name of the Lord.
Hooray for God
in heaven above!”
“Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
And so they rode into the city, in much noise and triumph, and took the straight path to the Temple, those surrounding him singing over and over, and in that wealthy city, many leaned out of their windows and stood on the sides of the streets and asked:
“Who can this be?”
But the response from the throng that surrounded him was loud like the sea and varied like waves.
“This is Jesus!”
“This is Jesus, the Prophet from Nazareth!”
“Nazareth in Galilee.”
In the midst of the crowd, trying to get near Jesus while the disciples guarded him were some familiar folk as well. Philip knew the girl Ansdria and her family, simple Greek scribes from outside Sepphoris, and she was motioning to him.
“Sir,” said Ansdria’s father when he had reached them, “We would like to meet Jesus.”
And no matter how they had felt this morning, in the heat of this day, amidst the energy of singing, the falling of branches, everything seemed possible, and so Philip gripped hold of Andrew, and the two of them went to Jesus and told him.
Sitting the donkey in the midst of the singing and movement, the Greek family saw Jesus gesture to them, and a way was made for them. They came and stood beneath him and his voice carried over the noise when he spoke.
“The time has come for the Son of Man to be given his glory. I tell you for certain that a grain of wheat that falls on the ground will never be more than one grain unless it dies. But if it dies, it will produce lots of wheat. If you love your life, you will lose it. If you give it up in this world, you will be given eternal life.”
He seemed finished, and around him they were still singing:
“Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna to the son of David!”
Even little children were being lifted up to sing. The whole city was in a festive mood, and Jesus continued:
“If you serve me, you must go with me. My servants will be with me wherever I am. If you serve me, my Father will honor you.
Now, he spoke to them as if there was no one else. He dismounted the donkey.
“Now I am deeply troubled, and I don't know what to say. But I must not ask my Father to keep me from this time of suffering. In fact, I came into the world to suffer. So… Father, bring glory to yourself.”
That was a day of many amazing things. So close to the end, the stories are confused even to those who were there. Some said that a storm had been brewing and some said there was a great quake. Some said there was sudden darkness and a boom, flashes of momentary lightning. Years later, what Philip was to tell John and what Ansdria herself would confirm was that on the road to Jerusalem, right before the Golden Gate and in sight of the Temple, a voice declared:
“I have already brought glory to myself, and I will do it again!”
And when the crowd heard the voice, some of them thought it was thunder and others thought an angel had spoken to Jesus.
And then Jesus, full of a nearly manic excitement declared, “If I am lifted up above the earth, I will draw all men to me.”
