The Jesus Connection

By Nicalass Bennett

The book interweaves two story lines running parallel to each other.
It starts with the story of Leonard Lombard, a South African infantry soldier captured in Angola. He meets another prisoner, an American CIA agent. In confinement they are taught philosophy by a mysterious man who shows them ways to master their lives. He also gives them riddles to a treasure waiting to be revealed to the world.
Parallel to the former, in the desert of Northern Africa, 2000 years ago, the reader finds Jesus in a desert oasis, traveling from India to his life in Israel, his fame is already being spread among different ethnic groups and precedes him wherever he goes. He meets his would-be students and from there his journey continues to Egypt to be initiated in the pyramids.
Many years passed since they were rescued from the prison, the war is long over, and the two men meet again in Saudi Arabia, with a group of archeologists to help solve the riddles given by the mysterious master. In Saudi Arabia they discover hidden sacred treasures linking the two stories together.
The novel contains hidden philosophies, and is a subtle symbiosis of fact, fiction, love, action and mystery. There are parts the readers will find relevant to their lives or recognize them in the lives of those close to them. The book will tantalize and intrigue any reader, irrespective of spiritual beliefs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicalass Bennett
• Release date: May 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301832682

Book preview

Foreword

I met the author last year under very interesting and trying circumstances. We were both exhibitors at a huge international show held annually in Johannesburg, South Africa. He was my neighbour throughout the excruciating five days of this event and during this time we slowly got to know each other and started to discuss our views on life and Mankind. In the beginning we did this as a way of preserving our sanity, but later on we both began to look forward to our daily morning talks and afternoon catch-ups on the state of the planet and its inhabitants.

We had many things in common, mostly in the way we looked at life. He had had many experiences in foreign lands, as had I with my trips to Hawaii to work with the shamans and to Europe to give talks and workshops on my beliefs and views. He also shared my view of the inaccuracy of the writings of the Bible with the belief that Jesus had had a life after the episode on the cross. He, as was I, determined to spread the truth about these misconceptions.

I was very interested in the book (this book) he was writing and because of my experience with publishing and editing with the Star in Johannesburg, I offered to edit and write the Foreword.

One of the most memorable experiences I have had relating to the contents of the book was a few years ago.

I had just been through a very challenging time of my life where I had been compelled to face many of my demons.

It was an early morning in winter. I was just awakening. I lived in a thatched tower loft, four storeys above the ground, overlooking fields of green and horse paddocks.

I was not fully awake in the early morning light. My eyes were just becoming accustomed to the gloom when I became aware of a being hovering just in front me.

Strangely, I wasn't surprised, just awed at the magnificence of this being. In my mind I asked him who he was.

He replied he was the Christ Consciousness, Holy Spirit, whatever I chose to call him; I could even call him Jesus, if I wanted.

I was overcome with an overwhelming sense of peace and holiness, love and bliss. I lay back against the pillows and watched him as he floated in front of me, speaking to me in my mind in a soft, commanding manner.

He told me that I was to love, love and love again, the whole of Mankind.

That I must pass on the feeling and experience of the love I felt right now, that I must not keep any of the experiences I have had or will have in the future to myself. That this feeling is to be shared with all who come in contact with me and that it is for Mankind as a whole. That we all have the same capacity to experience the love I was feeling right at that moment.

I closed my eyes and he took me above the planet, showing me the chaos, confusion and fear that exist right now.

I was very upset and asked him what I could do to help. He touched my shoulder lovingly and repeated what he had said before, 'Love them, just love them.' Then, as I felt it deep in my heart, I saw it surround the planet and engulf all the hate and fear, dispelling the negativity and replacing it with bliss.

I opened my eyes and he had gone.

Yes, I do think Jesus appears in many forms with many faces.

Take care, love each other.

VANESSA A'WAKAN

Preface

The Jesus connection is a What would it be like if? book. It gives a fictional insight into the life of Jesus like never before. Read with an open, free and inquisitive mind. It does by no means diminish the greatness of Jesus the man and being. It reflects his greatness and encourages people to learn more concerning his life and travels.

The book as a whole has a combination of fact and fiction in it, which takes the reader on an exciting adventure. The book is not a lesson in history, therefore, read it as a novel. Although there are factual accounts, the reader should find for himself or herself the difference. Each and everyone have their own viewpoint and an opinion to what fiction is. I strongly advise when reading the book, to learn more, question everything, and do not take anything in life as fact, no matter from whom it comes. That is when you will find the truth. Sometimes what you have been told or made to believe the truth is, on asking and researching, may not be that way.

Jesus connection has philosophies and fiction intertwined to bring you a novel that is exciting to read and to research.

The intention of the book is not being derogatory to any person, nationality or religion. It is a fictional novel with some truths.

Life has its golden treasures it holds, which includes a golden key to unlock its mysteries.

The question you have to ask is, Do you dare to find the key and open that magnificent door and live life to its fullest?

Chapter 1

A shiny black-dung beetle glowing forest-green stopped to rest from rolling his ball of dung across the sand. For a moment it stood still with its back legs on top of the ball and its head facing down. It listened as the high-pitched screeching sound of the sun beetles dissipated. They felt the earth vibrating from ten pairs of military boots. The new, unfamiliar sound was the crunching of sand under boots together with the swishing sound of thick brown cotton combat uniforms. The dung-beetle left its ball and scuttled away as fast as its tiny legs allowed, in a desperate attempt to avoid being squashed by boots.

Ten men from the South African Defence Force were walking in absolute silence through soft, thick desert sand, unaware of the existence of the dung-beetle. Their weapons were cocked, ready to fire, pointing outward from the sides of their bodies. They walked in single file, sweeping to the left and right, in the event of an attack. The patrol was a section of 42 South African Infantry Division in South West Africa. Their mission was to press forward towards the Angolan border in alliance with Unita. The goal was to defend South Africa from invasion from Communist Angola, supported mainly by Cuba, Russia, East Germany and Red China.

They walked slowly through the dense bush, not always visible to each other. Their nerves were tense, fearing an ambush or attack. The men were aware of the support and signals from one another. Communication had to be silent hand-signals sent between them.

James Davis, the scout, was a soldier with a quick eye for identifying objects and people. Slender built, with blondish sun-streaked hair from being in the bush for almost six months, he spotted movement in the bush in front.

With quick movement, he gave the ‘halt’ signal, by clenching his fist and holding his arm up at a ninety-degree angle. The signal was seen by everyone, all of them ducking down behind the closest cover.

The men sat, breathing heavily, quiet, hearing their own heartbeats. The tension was almost unbearable as they waited, weapons now at the ready, prepared for any attack, hands sweating and shaking in the forty degree celsius heat.

Sitting dead-still, silence roaring in everyone’s ears, they waited. Even the dung-beetle became still.

Lieutenant Leonard Lombard looked around, staying alert for any sign of a breaking point in his men. He made sure he was within view of his second-in-command Corporal Munser. He noticed the combination of alertness, stress in his corporal’s face.

Leonard was sure it must have been visible on his own face and tried to look more in control and calm. They glanced at each other and gave a nod of acknowledgment that they were ready to fight side by side. They directed their attention back to the possible danger and waited for a relayed sign from the scout.

Minutes were passing on and it felt for the men like their hearts were beating so fast they were going to explode. Some felt like jumping up, and running away, but they had to force themselves to be patient. Eventually the signal came.

They almost sighed out loud when the scout gave the `ok` signal, to move ahead. The possible danger was over. The movement identified by the scout was a local person moving through the bushes on his way home. It was a middle-aged black man with beige long-sleeve shirt and pants in tatters. His shoes had holes in the bottom, worn every day as they were the only pair he owned.

He carried a bag with vegetables, which he got from a friend, who grew them close-by. He loved when his wife cooked a pot of maize with vegetable stew, which she knew was his favourite. She cooked it the way he liked it, not too hard and not too soft. The deep lines of sadness were visible on his leathery face. His hair and beard turned grey from years of sorrow and suffering.

His two daughters aged ten and eleven had died in cross-fire between Unita and the Angolan forces. Since their deaths he cared very little about himself. Years of abuse and assault from both military forces had turned him into a hard, unforgiving man. He lived from day-to-day trying to protect his family from starvation and the constant military interrogation. Today was no different.

The men relaxed a little, enough so as not to give away their positions, even to the local. They were trained to trust nobody.

Lieutenant Lombard gave the signal to move forward. The men walked slowly, meter by meter, through the dense bush, ready, alert. They scanned the top of the trees and ground for ‘Claymore’ mines, detonated by an almost unseen trip wire. Claymores, as they were called, could be placed on the ground or in the trees. They were square, about two inches thick, in a half-moon shape. The design of the mine made it possible for it to explode inward, toward the enemy, causing the most damage.

James walked and held a soft piece of copper wire in his hands. It bent when a detonation mechanism of the mine was touched. This was the safest way of detection without detonating the mines.

James guessed the village couldn’t be far away, judging by the pace at which the men moved through the bush.

He signalled by first placing two fingers to the side of the arm and then with the tips of his fingers together, tapping them on the top of his head. This meant the corporal was to join him immediately.

Corporal Munser and Leonard bent down out of sight behind the bushes. Leonard reached James first, joined by Munser a moment later.

‘We must be near a village,’ James whispered.

Leonard nodded. ‘We’ll have to move away. We don’t want innocent villagers getting hurt, in case something happens.

‘Where are we?’ Leonard asked.

Corporal Munser took out the map and compass from the pocket on his right leg. They quickly checked their position. Their training helped them with signals to one another; where to go, without uttering a sound. Lieutenant Lombard signalled to the men to move to the left in a westerly direction, leading them away from the village.

Munser silently signalled his men to move to the left. The message was passed on from one man to another, ensuring they all understood. They changed direction, moving soundlessly through the bush.

They walked at a snail’s pace for about an hour. Painstakingly, they crawled to where the next rest stop in a safe area might be.

They were getting tired and weary from the constant stress. Some had to urinate but couldn’t, it could be deadly.

Suddenly, James signalled to stop. He had seen something. Some men took a deep breath and closed their eyes, praying that they be kept safe from harm. In moments like this, soldiers become believers. Irrespective of their individual faith, when confronted with a frightening situation, men believed in some form of God.

Lying flat, the scout called for Munser. He crawled on his belly, moving silently, with lizard-like movements towards Davis. He stopped next to James, who showed him - he had seen something move in the bush about 15 meters ahead. They kept still and watched. Their eyes strained as they scouted the terrain.

They waited for what felt like an eternity, until Munser, satisfied that the possible danger was over, signalled the ‘all clear’. He then tapped James on the shoulder, signalling they could move on. Then he crawled back to his position and pointed to the others to move ahead.

The men stood up and moved at a nerve-breakingly slow pace. The tension hung thick in the air. Their hands were shaking from the adrenalin pumping through their bodies. James stopped and lifted his right hand, giving the signal to stop. The section of soldiers squatted down behind the bushes. James signalled with two fingers to his shoulder for Leonard to approach.

As fast as he could, Leonard moved to James, who was squatting down. He pointed to his left. Leonard focused his eyes trying to spot any movement in the bush. He couldn’t see anything as they silently waited.

The tension made the men restless. They had to control the urge to jump up and start shooting into the bushes.

James grabbed Leonard’s arm. It gave him a fright. He felt as if his heart would jump out of his chest. James pointed to the bush in front of them. There were three unarmed black men moving silently through the dense bush.

They watched them move out of sight. Relieved, Leonard waited. The scout signalled that he couldn’t see anything else. Leonard nodded and moved back to his position in the middle of the section. He signalled to move ahead.

The sudden noise of the shot almost deafened them. Their movements seemed to be in slow motion, it was as if the time had stopped.

Before Leonard’s mind could clear enough to figure out who pulled the trigger, sand stung his face. The hailstorm of bullets surrounded him. Men started shouting at one another and returning fire into the bushes.

Leonard knew he had to get the men into their tactical positions, where every second soldier would fall to the ground and fire at the enemy. While they fired their rifles, other soldiers ran, advancing on the enemy. ‘Fire and movement! Fire and movement!’ Leonard shouted above the gunfire.

The men tried to get into their tactical positions, but some were killed before they could move. Bullets stopped them in their tracks. They didn’t have time to fire, as bullets from all directions ripped through their bodies.

Some men managed to scramble into formation and cover both sides of the section. They couldn’t see exactly where the gunfire was coming. They returned fire in the general direction of the shooting.

Leonard fired into the bushes, hoping to find his targets. He saw his men falling around him, blood spurting from their wounds. Bullets tore through their bodies, causing them to shout out in pain.

A young soldier had blood pumping from his throat and others fell with bullet-holes in their arms and legs, their muscles going into spasm as they lay on the ground dying, one after another.

Leonard panicked and fired, emptying one magazine after another. The smell of gunpowder and blood filled the air. Smoke and dust made it almost impossible to see who they were shooting at, who was alive and who was dead. The sound of heavy machine-gun fire drowned out the sound of the R4 rifles.

Leonard was horrified as he saw his men being gunned down. All he could think of was getting out alive.

He grabbed a grenade from his belt, pulled out the pin and threw it towards the machine-gun fire. ‘Grenade!’ he shouted as loud as he could. He wasn’t sure if anyone heard him. He fell to the ground, covering his face.

The blast of the grenade was deafening. An impermeable drapery of sand and smoke from the explosion filled the area. He grabbed his rifle and jumped up to carry on shooting.

The sudden pain in his head was blinding. He felt the world spin and he knew. He grabbed his head and looked down in horror as he removed his hand, red and sticky. Blood covered his face as he fell to his knees. The outside world disappeared. He toppled over with his face hitting the ground.

Heavy droplets of his blood fell on the dry, thirsty sand and disappeared, leaving behind only dark stains. Silence mixed with the smell of death, smoke and dust saturated the air around the bodies lying motionless - the only evidence of the carefully-planned ambush.

Chapter 2

The midday heat was unbearable as the sun beat down mercilessly onto the tired man. Sweat was dripping down his face, drenching his back and chest. His black beard and shoulder-length black hair made him feel even hotter. At the same time, it gave his neck and face some protection from the harmful rays of the sun. What used to be light-brown caftan, now had dark, wet stains under his arms, on his chest and back. The same colour turban covering his head was hanging loose.

His head bobbed up and down in rhythm with the pace of the donkey. The weary animal's hoofs sank deep into the soft, hot sand. Each step the donkey took became an effort. Flies buzzed around its eyes. They had been annoying him, since they left the dusty little village where they stayed overnight. The donkey shook its head trying to rid itself of the flies, but they were persistent about getting something to eat from the animal.

The man had just about enough strength to stay on the back of his fatigued donkey. His mouth and lips were bone-dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His lips were cracked from dehydration and heat. He tried to lick them as often as he could with the gluey saliva in his mouth. His water pouches had run dry a few hours ago. Both, he and the donkey needed water.

His eyes closed in a semi-conscious state. The only thoughts on his mind were water and his search. His mind drifted back to the moment he left his home and family two years ago in the pursuit of wisdom. His father wanted him to stay and follow in his footsteps by becoming the best in the manual labour trade. He knew from the day he could think for himself, he had a bigger purpose in life. He knew he wasn’t a tradesman or manual labourer.

Following his yearning to get more knowledge, he packed the little belongings he had.

Back to the present, his thoughts back to his journey, he realised, he had been walking and riding his faithful donkey for months, and miles. His thoughts were interrupted. He looked up to see why the donkey had changed its pace. He had to shield his eyes with his hand from the brightness of the sunlight. The blinding rays made his eyes water. He wiped the tears and looked again.

In front of them was an oasis - the donkey must have smelled water. He trusted its instincts; since he was having difficulty telling the difference between water and the constant illusions.

He had to use the last vestiges of energy to sit up and urge the donkey on. He imagined the feeling of the cool water swirling in his mouth, washing away the dust and dryness. Anticipation of cool water gave him the strength he needed.

It felt as if an eternity had passed by the time they reached the oasis. Date palms encircled the waterhole, giving off shade, offering relief from the sun. Illusive sparks of sunlight were battling with shadows from the trees, each trying to claim the surface of the water as their own.

The man and his donkey stopped in front of the waterhole. He stumbled, trying to get off, almost falling to the ground. He managed to hold onto the donkey and pulled himself up. Loosening his pack, he removed it from the donkey and allowed his faithful friend to drink.

The donkey bent down and slurped. The man fell to his knees and dipped his head in the cool water, wiping the water from his face, as he came up for air. Using his cupped hands, he drank enough to slake his thirst.

He had trained his body to use only what it needed, and would not overdo it. After drinking, he filled his skin pouch with water. He took another bigger pouch and filled it for the donkey.

With tightly-stretched full pouches hanging over his shoulders, he walked to the nearest tree and sat down. Removing the pouches, he put them beside him and leaned back against the tree. He looked around at the windswept land. Dead leaves from the trees were lying around the pool. The sand gave off a golden glow, reflecting the blazing rays of the sun.

The sharp light made him to look away. Archaean rocks were protruding from the sand, giving the area a feeling of futility. It was as if God had created the area and abandoned it, never to return.

All the traveller could do was to lie down and wait for the sun to set. He was sweating again. A light breeze started blowing, bringing relief to his skin.

He lay against the tree wondering how far he still had to travel. People along the road had always helped him find his way.

The difference in languages had sometimes been a problem, but by using hand gestures and some commonly-spoken words, he found he could get the directions he needed. According to his calculations, it seemed it would be a year before he reached his destination. It was a long but important journey.

He looked up to the cloudless sky from where he sat against a tree and closed his eyes. ‘Please help me, please guide me,’ he whispered. He felt his mind slip into nothingness. ‘I’ll try again when it’s cooler,’ he thought.

His donkey woke him up, moving around restless, shaking his head and making blowing sounds.

The traveller opened his eyes and looked up at the sun. The light was fading and he realised, he had been asleep for a few hours. He saw four men on camels approaching the waterhole. He got to his feet covering his eyes against the light.

The brown turbans and white robes the men wore were not identifiable with any tribe he knew. They were dressed much the same as he was. He waited for them to approach. They rode their weary animals to the edge of the water. The camels made a gurgling sound as they slowly lay down with their front legs folding in under them.

The men jumped off to the left side of their camels and gave them a light smack on the side of their necks. This was a sign for them to drink. The camels got up and walked closer to the waterhole. They bent their long necks down and sipped the water noisily.

The men nodded their heads, greeting the man without a word.

‘Good afternoon,’ he greeted them in Hebrew. They looked at him and smiled, and without a word, removed their turbans.

Their hair was wet from much sweating. The men dipped their turbans in the water and used them to wash their faces and necks, cooling themselves. They finished washing themselves and wrapped the wet cloths around their heads.

The man noticed the water pouches they filled were similar to his. All of them were made from brown leather in a teardrop shape. A leather strap was tied to both ends of the pouch so it could be slung over the shoulder.

After the men filled their pouches, they walked to the tree where the traveller was sitting. Worn-out, they sat on the ground close to him.

‘I’ll never get used to this heat,’ one of the men said in Hebrew. He was of medium-build with narrow, shrewd eyes. The bridge of his nose had a noble curve, giving him a Roman look. His beard and hair were long and black. He had deep lines in the corners of his eyes, caused by years of laughter and sun. Smiling, he offered his hand. ‘I’m Eli,’ he said. Surprised, the traveller took Eli’s hand.

‘I’m Jesus,’ he said.

The man smiled. The others leaned over and looked at him with interest.

‘Aaah, Aramaic-speaking. A learned man, no doubt. Luckily we both speak Aramaic and Hebrew. We have heard about you. They call you Issu as well,’ one of the men stated. Jesus nodded. ‘You’re the one that’s causing much uproar wherever you go. I like that,’ said the man with a broad smile.

‘What do you mean?’ Jesus asked.

‘It seems as if there are some Government people looking for you. It was something that you said that upset them.’ He looked at Jesus with interest, waiting for a reply.

Jesus shrugged his shoulders. ‘Some people are not ready to hear the truth. They haven’t grown enough spiritually or are not mature enough to hear the truth. They will when they’re ready.’

The man opened his bag and took out a piece of bread. The bread was dry and stale. It made a cracking sound when Eli broke it in half and offered some to Jesus.

‘Here, it would be a pleasure to break bread with you,’ he said.

Jesus took the bread. ‘Thank you. I’m hungry.’

He took a bite of the dry bread. Jesus opened his pouch and took a sip of water to wash down the bread.

‘What are the names of your three friends?’ Jesus enquired.

Eli's dropped his gaze to the ground in embarrassment. ‘I apologise. This is Adam, Solly and David,’ he said, pointing to the men in turn. The men nodded.

Jesus smiled and nodded back at them. ‘Good to meet you. Where are you going?’

Eli answered for all of them. ‘We’re on a pilgrimage. We’re searching for a teacher.’

Jesus looked at them with interest. ‘What teacher do you seek?’ he asked. The faces of the men lit up as they looked at one another.

‘We don’t search anymore. I believe we have just found our teacher,’ Eli said smiling.

‘Who is this teacher you speak of?’

‘You’re.’

‘What makes you believe I’m the teacher you’re searching for?’ Jesus asked, taking a sip of his water.

Eli shifted his weight, as his rear was going numb from sitting on the hard ground.

‘We have been wandering around for weeks and months. We have asked day after day for guidance to find our teacher. As we were getting weary, we came across the man we have heard so much about, sitting in the middle of nowhere. I believe without a doubt that our guidance led us here today to meet you,’ Eli said and shifted a bit closer.

‘I think I speak for all of us,’ he said and pointed to the others, ‘When I ask, will you become our teacher, our mentor?’

Jesus looked at the men. He could see their excitement and anticipation of his answer. He looked up and saw the sun was setting fast. It would be dark soon. Jesus didn’t answer Eli's question. He stood up wiping sand off his clothes.

‘We have to get some wood if we want to make a fire,’ he said. They all jumped up together, stirring fine dust with their long clothes. Eli wiped the sand from his hands and put them on Jesus’ chest.

‘Please sit and rest, we’ll get wood and make fire.’

Jesus nodded and thanked Eli for his kindness. He sat down and watched Eli and the men as they collected bits of leaves and some wood from the trees. They put the wood and leaves into a pile.

‘Thank you, Father, for the opportunity to teach these men and myself,’ Jesus whispered. ‘Guide me in humbleness, so I can teach them wisely.’

The men lit the fire. The small flames grew bigger, scorching the dry leaves. Smoke filled the area as the fire started to crackle, spraying orange sparks into the air.

The stillness of the desert created a feeling of deep peace. The flames cast a display of intriguing shadows on their faces and sand, as they stared into the fire.

Jesus looked around at their hypnotized faces, each one caught up in his own thoughts, gazing at the flames without blinking. Jesus was familiar with this scene. He remembered his days in the desert, alone looking into the fire. He knew this all too well. He broke the silence.

‘If you want me to teach you, there’s something that you have to stop doing right now.’

They were startled at the sudden interjection of his voice into their reverie. Adam reacted first. He was the youngest of the group. He had a strong body from days working on his father's land, planting crops. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown, displaying good-natured humour.

‘What is that?’ he asked.

‘You must get out of your heads. Start watching your thoughts and become aware of your surroundings,’ Jesus said.

Eli gave Jesus a confused look. ‘How do we do that? It’s difficult not to think.’

Jesus nodded. ‘I know. You can begin by being aware as often as possible. You can start with short periods and it’ll increase with time,’ Jesus explained.

Eli smiled widely as it dawned on him what Jesus had said. He grabbed Adam's arm next to him and they all started laughing. He leaned over, grabbed Jesus and gave him a hug.

‘We have a mentor,’ Eli said, laughing. He let go of Jesus. ‘Thank you, Teacher.’

Jesus smiled. ‘There’s no need to call me Teacher.’

Eli shook his head. ‘No, no, you’re right. We’ll call you Master,’ Eli replied.

Jesus shrugged his shoulders. ‘If it’s your wish,’ he said.

Satisfied that he got his way, Eli lay back against the tree, happy with himself.

‘It’s my wish, Master,’ he said with a smile.

They were silent for some time. After a while, Solly spoke for the first time. ‘Master, please tell us about your search. We have heard so much about you.’

Jesus thought for a moment. ‘I’ll give you the short version. I left my home when I was eighteen. My father taught me to be a carpenter. I knew there was more waiting for me. I asked for guidance and my Heavenly Father gave me a sign to leave and learn more. An inner voice told me to pack my belongings and start my journey of knowledge. I left and followed the road to India. Along the way I learned about Vedas and many other teachings.’

The men sat with their legs crossed, their hands clasped and arms resting on their legs. They leant forward, not wanting to miss one word.

‘From India my teachings led me to Tibet. There I found a monastery where I spent time with the monks, learning from them. They taught me the Buddhist philosophy on love, life and death.’

Eli looked confused. Jesus saw his face twisted in concern.

‘What is on your mind, Eli?’ Jesus asked.

‘Master, isn't what you’ve learned and what you’re teaching against our beliefs?’

Jesus shook his head. ‘Your teachings come from priests who have controlled you all for too long and have become concerned only with money. They have become trapped in the materialistic world,’ Jesus explained.

‘People should be taught about how to love and how to find the way back home to the Creator of everything.’

Eli nodded in understanding, satisfied with the answer. He gestured with his hand towards Jesus.

Jesus smiled. ‘You have found me in the middle of the desert, haven't you?’ he replied.

Eli smiled realizing the statement and nodded. The relief on their faces was clearly visible.

‘I think for now it’s enough. Let's get some sleep.’

‘Master, one more question,’ Eli said.

‘What is it?’ Jesus asked.

‘Your teachings, I believe will be many and important. We can’t forget one word of it. Can we write down your words as you teach?’ Eli asked and pointed to Adam.

‘He’s a qualified scribe and has written down much of our travels. He will write down your words,’ Eli said.

Jesus smiled. ‘Of course, I, myself have written some teachings you can read. It’ll help you.’

‘Thank you, Master. I’ll not disturb you any more. Good night,’ Eli said and turned around.

Without another word, the men rolled out their carpets they used as mattresses and lay down to sleep for the night. They folded cloths under their heads and got comfortable in the sand. They wiggled themselves to shape the sand into a cosily bed. One after the other they fell asleep, snoring.

Silence settled across the oasis. Only the deep breathing of the men and animals broke the silence. Miniature night-creatures emerged in silence from the earth. Some were crawling, while others slithered, ready for the deadly game of hide-and-seek. They moved slowly across the desert sand, listening for movements that could direct them to their supper. All creatures of the night moved in silence on their expeditions, each one hunting for a meal before the heat of the sun caused them to retreat underground, hidden.

The black sheet of night sky was pierced by minute holes of millions sparkling stars