The Mist of God: Volume Three of the Magdala Trilogy

By Peter Longley

With vivid prose and compelling characters, The Mist of God offers a captivating glimpse into Biblical times. The destinies of Linus Flavian, Maria of Magdala, and their son, Marcus, play out in this dramatic first-century story that spans the extremities of the known world of that time, from Britannia to India.

The Roman Empire is rising to its height while a fledging religious sect of Judaism reconciles itself with the mystery of its crucified leader, Joshua of Nazareth. Growing from a clash between nationalistic Judaism and a messianic universalism, followers from Saul of Tarsus to Simon Cephas take the fledgling faith out to the Gentile world on the trading routes of the House of Arimathea.

Their witness, however, differs from the very personal understanding of divinity that Maria believes she learned from her lover, the crucified Lord. Nevertheless, she passes this legacy on to her son, Ben Joshua, the child Joshua never knew. Ben Joshus finds this message enchanced when he travels to India as a partner in the House of Arimatheabut his survival is anything but certain.

The third in the dramatic series The Magdala Trilogy, The Mist of God provides a fascinating commentary on the origins of Christianity that is both challenging yet plausible, incorporating traditional beliefs, fictitious thoughts, and new controversial interpretations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462014590

Peter Longley

Peter Longley graduated with an honors masters degree in Theolgy from Cambridge University in England in 1970. For many years he was a licensed lay-reader and preacher in the Anglican Episcopal Church both in Ireland and the USA. In 1988, he began writing a series of fictitious novels on the life and times of Mary Magdalene, one of which, LEGACY OF A STAR, was published by Durban House Publishing Co. Inc., in 2003. In 1995, Peter wrote a contemporary and introductory story for these Magdala novels that was published by The Hovenden Press in 1996 and titled TWO THOUSAND YEARS LATER. Meanwhile, following current scholarship in the Jesus Seminar and other sources, Peter revised the Magdala novels forming them into a Trilogy of which A STAR'S LEGACY is the first volume. Two volumes will follow, BEYOND THE OLIVE GROVE and THE MIST OF GOD. In 2003, his contemporary novel, LOVE IS WHERE YOUR ROSEMARY GROWS was published through iUniverse Publishing. Brought up in England, Peter lived in Ireland from 1966-1977 and was the Estate Manager of Tullamaine Castle. Since 1977 he has lived in the United States in Georgia, Minnesota and Missouri. Many of those years he was at sea as a Cruiise Director, notably on board Cunard's QUEEN ELIZABETH 2. In this capacity he traveled the world and managed shipboard entertainment. This is a theme that is echoed in his contemporary novels. Horticulture has always been a major hobby and has led to his retirement career where he now designs and maintains gardens for Springfield, Missouri's future Botanical Center.

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The Mist of God

Volume Three of The Magdala Trilogy

Peter Longley

iUniverse, Inc.

Bloomington

The Mist of God

Volume Three of the Magdala Trilogy

Copyright © 2011 by Peter Longley

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4620-1457-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-1458-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-1459-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011907331

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 07/18/2011

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

At James’ House

CHAPTER TWO

On the road to Emmaus

CHAPTER THREE

Maria’s Confession

CHAPTER FOUR

Ghosts and Executions

CHAPTER FIVE

The Shroud

CHAPTER SIX

Caesarea

CHAPTER SEVEN

Galilee and Fishers of Men

CHAPTER EIGHT

Passages

CHAPTER NINE

Prospects for Marcus

CHAPTER TEN

Guest of the Fishermen

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Return to Bethany

CHAPTER TWELVE

Distant Britannia

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Martyrdom

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Laden with Tin

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Saul, James, and the Nazarenes

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Scattering

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

About face

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Damascus to Jerusalem

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Linus and the Nabateans

CHAPTER TWENTY

Jew and Gentile

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A Trading Empire

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Burned Out

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Cephas’ Vision

CHAPTER ONE

Four Corners of Empire

CHAPTER TWO

Assasins and Torturers

CHAPTER THREE

Death of a Flavian

CHAPTER FOUR

Disgraced

CHAPTER FIVE

Linus visits Joseph of Arimathea

CHAPTER SIX

Persecution and Reunion

CHAPTER SEVEN

Secrets and Requests

CHAPTER EIGHT

Reconciliation

CHAPTER NINE

The Merchant Prince takes his Bride

CHAPTER TEN

At the Instigation of Chrestus

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Recognition

CHAPTER TWELVE

Travelers

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Corinth

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ephesus

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Marcus and Cephas

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A Family Reunited

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Linus and Maria

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The High Himalayas

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Blessed Mother

CHAPTER TWENTY

Temple Transgression

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Fire

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Flaming Torches

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Apocalypse

EPILOGUE

The Year 85 AD

Dedicated

to

my beloved sisters

Diane and Sally

INTRODUCTION

The Mist of God is the third volume in a trilogy of novels that include A Star’s Legacy and Beyond the Olive Grove, all speculating on a plausible life and times of Mary Magdalene. The series traces the lives of a fictitious Roman named Linus Flavian and the quasi-historical persons of Joshua of Nazareth (Jesus, the Christ), Maria of Magdala (Mary Magdalene), and their fictitious son, Ben Joshua.

The first volume, A Star’s Legacy, is largely fictitious, dealing with the birth stories of the principal characters and their early lives, before historical references to their lives are found in the gospels. Some of this material is drawn from the Protoevangelium of James, and part of the story line is taken from the Infancy narratives and the Book of Mary found in the second century Nag Hammadi texts, but most the fictitious narrative is written to set the scene in Judea and Galilee for the intertwining of these characters’ lives in the second volume of The Magdala Trilogy titled Beyond the Olive Grove.

Beyond the Olive Grove, although fiction, does follow much of the story line of the synoptic gospels, St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. Luke, and also embraces aspects of the gospel of St. John. However, it should be born in mind that these gospels were written decades after the events, and are, therefore, themselves in a sense works of fiction, written to illustrate the viewpoints of certain late first century and early second century communities of early Christians. This allows for some of the noted historical differences found between the gospels. It should also be remembered that none of the gospel writers were actual eyewitnesses to the life of Jesus, although they may have had access to earlier sources that could have been recorded by eyewitnesses. St. Mark, considered the earliest now known account, was probably written about 75 AD and was obviously known to the writers of St. Matthew and St. Luke, inasmuch as all but sixty-six verses of St. Mark are repeated in either St. Matthew or St. Luke. Scholars consider St. Matthew to have been written about 90 AD. St. Luke and St John, most modern scholars now conclude to be early second century works.

The Magdala Trilogy is the story of Linus Flavian and Maria of Magdala set against the life of Jesus and the growth of early Christian communities in an expanding Roman Empire. Jesus is crucified at the end of the second volume Beyond the Olive Grove.

The Mist of God, therefore, takes the story of Linus and Maria through the daunting times of the early establishment of Christian communities in the Roman Empire. As with most Christian denominations, it follows the rough chronology of these years laid down by St. Luke in his sequel to his gospel—The Acts of the Apostles. Again, however, we must note that the final version of this work is a second century document written well after the events. The earliest real reference to Christianity historically is found in the early second century Roman historian Suetonius’ account of the lives of the first century emperors. He refers to the expulsion of the Jews from Rome in 49 AD in his Life of Claudius, XXV.4.

Since the Jews constantly made disturbances at the instigation of Chrestus, he expelled them from Rome…

Suetonius, who was a scribe to the Emperor Hadrian, is here dealing with the actions of Claudius toward various foreign races. Aquila and Priscilla moved to Corinth in consequence of this edict (Acts 18:2). The words at the instigation of Chrestus may well refer to disturbances caused by the preaching of a form of Christianity among the Jews, and these disturbances could become serious in so large a Jewish community as that in Rome. The garbled form, Chrestus, might be taken by the authorities as the name of a contemporary individual, particularly as his supporters claimed he was still alive in spirit. The early Church Fathers, Justin (Apol.I.4) Tertullian (Apol.3.5) and Lactantius (Inst.IV.7.5) show that Christus and Chrestus were pronounced in Latin in much the same way. In the first century, certainly until after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 AD, the Roman world saw little difference between early Christians and Jews. If the Jews were persecuted, so, too, were Christians persecuted. It is commonly thought, therefore, that this expulsion of the Jews from Rome in the time of Claudius was both racial and religious, in as much as those who practiced the commune politics of the followers of Chrestus were considered Jews, and for the most part probably were Jews. I have used this event as a pivotal turning point in my fictitious story of the lives of Linus Flavian and Maria of Magdala.

The first part of The Mist of God is titled Ghosts of Calvary and explores a variety of early interpretations for the empty tomb—resurrection, the mystery that leads to communities believing in the Chrestus or Christos as a living spirit.

The other theme explored in The Mist of God is the advancement of Christianity along the trade routes of Empire. St. Paul certainly took advantage of this in holding together early Christian communities through his letters. It is from this theme of trade that I develop the life of a fictitious son of Maria of Magdala and Joshua of Nazareth, conceived in love just before Joshua’s arrest and crucifixion at the end of Beyond the Olive Grove. Ben Joshua, as he is named, learns much about his father from his mother’s viewpoint, then, spurred on by his adopted father’s trading empire, he finds his way to India, and ultimately to the High Himalayas where he dies. This explores the legend that Jesus went to India, a legend to which I do not personally subscribe, although it has been well researched by the German theologian Holger Kersten in his book Jesus lived in India. In The Mist of God, however, it is Jesus’ son who goes to India and dies in Kashmir. This allows for a blending of some early Christian beliefs, especially as expressed by Maria of Magdala, to be fused with certain mystical, Indian, first century thought. Ben Joshua does not live to bring his conclusions back to the Roman world, which in this novel is one of the reasons for Maria’s thoughts to have also become lost. However, by the time of Maria’s death at the end of The Mist of God, we do find her in Egypt, where her conclusions are assumed to have been a source for some of the second and third century gnostic beliefs found in several of the Nag Hammadi texts.

This theme is set against the persecution of Jews, first under Claudius and later under Nero that ultimately leads to the fall of Jerusalem in 70 AD and the full annexing of Palestine into a Roman province. For Jews and early Christians, this is seen as the Apocalypse, which is why the second part of The Mist of God—the final part of The Magdala Trilogy—is titled Lost in the Apocalypse.

At the birth of Christ, the Roman Empire had only recently come to the area of Judea. Not all the known Western world was encompassed within its sphere, but Roman influence was as far-reaching as its Oriental counterpoint in China. China and Rome had trade connections with India. Given that the Americas were unknown, it can be said that at no time in history had the world seemed more as one than two thousand years ago. This is a striking parallel to today’s global reach.

It was at this time that the Roman calendar was created. The old calendar had been updated first by Julius Ceasar and then by Augustus. The two additional months that they conceived to correct the seasons gave us our present twelve-month calendar. Julius and Augustus are immortalized in the summer months of July and August. With only minor adjustments, the Augustinian calendar has become the measure that unites our world today. Two thousand years ago was the start of the Pax Romana, an extraordinary concept of global peace based on the passage of goods in free trade, and again a striking parallel with the hopes of our present era.

Two thousand years ago also saw a world afraid of change and fearful of the new Roman order, one that spawned apocalyptic prophesies and resistance movements along with the fledgling religion that became Christianity. But the prophets of apocalypse were proved wrong. The world did not end. Christianity was not the swan song of an old belief system, but became the foundation of two thousand years of western civilization. So the world today unanimously dates its calendar from the legendary birth of Jesus, the Christ, but the wheel turns full cycle. At the start of the Third Millennium, we see a revival of those same apocalyptic fears and resistance movements as the world parallels its past. As we potentially approach unity and a new order, we find ourselves also afraid of change, listening once more to prophets of doom.

PETER LONGLEY

January, 2011

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am indebted to many who have contributed to my thinking and enabled me to embark on this work. Scholastically, I stand in the tradition of the great Anglican twentieth-century theologian John A.T. Robinson and my contemporaries, Don Cupitt, John Dominic Crossan, and A.N. Wilson. I have been drawn to the scholars of the Jesus Seminar with special mention of Robert W. Funk, Marcus Borg, Karen Armstrong, Elaine Pagels, Kathleen E. Corley, Bernard Brandon Scott, and all those, who like me have seen importance in the Nag Hammadi Texts. I have admired the critical stance of Bishop John Shelby Spong, who treads new frontiers in Christo-centric thought. Philosophically, I have learned much from such contemporary writers as Deepak Chopra, Harry Palmer, author of the Avatar materials, and Neale Donald Walsch, author of Conversations with God. All of us owe a debt to Albert Einstein, Stephen Hawking, and others for the advance of quantum physics that has so dramatically changed our thought patterns and practices as we look to the future in this Third Millennium.

Specifically, in regard to the text of The Magdala Trilogy, I acknowledge the patient reading and encouragement I received from Waldemar Hansen, author of The Peacock Throne, who was my predecessor as World Cruise Port Lecturer on board the ocean liner Queen Elizabeth 2. I am also grateful to Rabbi Harry Roth and The Venerable Canon Robert N. Willing, chaplains on board the Queen Elizabeth 2, for their support in the early stages of writing and their sound advice on some of the religious practices I have described. I am also indebted to Reverend Lawrence H. Waddy, late of St James’ Episcopal Church, La Jolla, California, for input on aspects of the Graeco-Roman world in the first century.

I am grateful to Anthony J. Benson, and James A. Veitch, Associate Professor, Victoria University, Wellington, New Zealand, for their encouragement and promotional work on my introductory novel to this trilogy—Two Thousand Years Later (Hovenden Press 1996).

Finally, I sincerely thank Kazumi Masuda, Bettine Clemen, and Nicole Glenn for their endless support and patience with me through half a lifetime of research in bringing this project to fruition; my sisters, Diane and Sally Longley to whom I dedicate this book; and most of all to my late father, Charles William Hovenden Longley, for his eternal encouragement and belief in my goals. I also thank my godfather, Oliver Gyles Longley, M.C.,C.B.E., for his unfailing faith, fair critique, and belief in my spiritual vocation despite my breach with perceived orthodoxy. I have tried to create a framework for the teaching and healing ministry of Jesus and a plausible life of Mary Magdalene that can be more popularly acceptable in the philosophical and spiritual thinking of the Third Millenium. Scholastically, I have advanced on my own background as a graduate in theology from Cambridge University in the 1960’s, using much of the discussion and interest engendered from using the tools of textual criticism advanced by scholars of the Jesus Seminar.

PETER LONGLEY

January 2011

A NOTE ON LANGUAGE

Whereas the principal language spoken by the characters, barring a few obvious exceptions, in A Star’s Legacy and Beyond the Olive Grove, the first two volumes of this Magdala Trilogy, was Aramaic, in this third volume, The Mist of God, there is almost equal use of three languages, Aramaic, Greek, and Latin. This effects titles and names and in order to avoid confusion I cite here some common examples.

These names and titles are followed according to which language the character is using in the dialogue.

PETER LONGLEY,

January 2011

Part One

Ghosts of Calvary

CHAPTER ONE

At James’ House

Maria stopped to catch her breath. After several days of gloom, at last the sun was making an appearance. Its rays hit the refreshed fronds of the date palms and lit up the yellow clusters of forming fruit. At Maria’s feet, the lush grass of the Gethsemane glade glistened, and the brook, swollen by the recent rains, babbled as it rushed on its way to join the Kidron stream. A peace descended on Maria as she felt Joshua’s presence in her solitude. She was free from the despair that still haunted the others. She was free from the grief and sorrow of the ‘chosen ones’.

This is where it happened! she whispered to herself. Here, in this gentle place by the splashing stream he gave me his eternal love.

A tear, part sad and salty, but formed from remembered joy and present hope, rolled down Maria’s cheek. She walked on into the glade. As the sun reawakened the beauty of her sacred place, the birds began to sing. A sparrow swooped down to catch an emerging worm, and a yellow butterfly spread its wings to celebrate a new beginning. After the darkness of James’ house, which through those rainy days had been made all the more depressing by the helpless despair of Cephas and the others, Maria could sense the power of God in nature’s joy. She looked at the spot where she had lain with Joshua before his suffering. That beautiful afternoon had seen the fulfillment of their love. Here, they had become one, united in flesh and spirit, knowing that their shared joy was Divine.

Joshua, she whispered. I love you.

Maria stood in silence for a long time, slowly raising her head to look up into the light of the newly brightened sky.

I will always love you, she repeated. I will express our love to everyone I meet. Our love is God’s love and lasts forever.

The bright light broke Maria’s gaze and caused her to squint. In the brightness, she thought she could see his face pulsating in her impaired vision.

I love you! she cried out more boldly. Joshua, I love you!

The wet grass soothed her feet as she walked over to the boulder where Joshua had wept when he had looked across the valley toward Jerusalem.

It was as if he had seemed to know, she thought.

Her dark hair flowed freely over her shoulders and contrasted with her light colored shift.

I wonder if he made me pregnant? she whispered to herself as she pulled at her tresses playfully. It was about my time.

The thought pleased Maria as she looked toward the Temple and Mount Zion.

I would love to have your child, she said, as if Joshua were still there holding her in his arms. If I am pregnant, I will call him Joshua after you—Ben Joshua…your son.

Closing her eyes, Maria felt the warm sunbeams on her face. What if we were to have a girl? she pondered. What name could I give to a girl? The thought disturbed her. For Joshua, she wanted a son. She reopened her eyes and stared at the city.

The brighter weather made Jerusalem shine.

* * *

James got back to the house on Mount Zion before Maria returned.

Cephas was seated with Janus and Jonas at the long trestle table in the upper room. All three of them looked pale and sad.

Did you find anything out? Cephas asked anxiously.

Not exactly, James replied. But one of the pharisees, that man named Saul from Tarsus, insisted that Joshua’s body had been stolen and that he suspected that this was the work of close followers—the ‘Galileans’ as he calls us. This Saul is somewhat of a fanatic and appears to have the ear of the High Priests. I think he could make things dangerous for you, and even more so for me, if he ever finds out that all of you are here.

Not all of us, Cephas reminded James. We haven’t seen Philip, Bartholomew, or Thomas yet, and none of us know where Judas is.

True, James agreed. Judas could still lead them to us. Maybe it would be best if you leave Jerusalem before they arrest us all.

We can’t leave without the others. We must give them more time, James, Cephas insisted. I’m sure they’ll make their way back here, especially now that the weather has improved.

I understand, Cephas, but believe what I’m saying, James pleaded. The High Priest’s men will look for you and they know from Judas that you were here.

Cephas beat on the trestle table with his clenched fist and stood up.

I curse the day that Joshua met up with Judas! he exclaimed. He was always a thorn in our side. Why do you side with them, James? Aren’t you one of us?

Of course, Cephas, James replied. Didn’t I teach Joshua? He was my pupil. He could have gone on to be such a great rabbi if only he had not upset the Temple hierarchy. There’s a middle way, Cephas. More can be achieved through cooperation than confrontation.

And whom did we confront? Janus shouted. The Master said ‘Give to Caesar what is his, but give to God what is God’s’

And give to the Temple what is the Temple’s. Wouldn’t that be giving to God? James retorted. Why did he upset the moneychangers? Why did he have to upset the Temple authorities?

Because they are cheats! Jonas joined in. You weren’t even there! You were too busy in the Sanhedrin flattering the very men who have destroyed us!

Have you also forgotten that it was Joseph of Arimathea, another council member of the Sanhedrin, who gave his tomb for Joshua’s burial? James said, trying to remain calm.

Yes, and possibly it was he, too, who gave Joshua’s body back to the High Priests! Jonas continued in his anger. None of you Temple lovers can be trusted!

James looked down at the tiled floor. It had been the climax of his career that he had been invited to sit on the Sanhedrin Council. This was the heart of Jewish learning and its importance was greater to him than the reality of Joshua’s many healing miracles. He wished that Joshua hadn’t changed and that they could have continued their learned ministry as ‘brothers’ just as they had in Nazareth before his sister-in-law—Joshua’s wife, Joanna—had died.

At that moment, Maria returned and noticed their glum expressions.

You’re still here, she said calmly as she put down some wild flowers on the trestle table. Haven’t you been out? It’s cleared now and it’s like a new beginning. Joshua doesn’t want us to be sad. His spirit should be alive in all of us, not least in you, Cephas.

Jonas gave Janus a knowing look. Somehow, they still could not really accept Maria as part of their group, even though the Master had shared much of his time with her.

We can’t let our sadness overcome the joy of his message, Maria continued. Remember how he told us when we eat and drink to recognise that he feeds us with his spirit. Joshua hasn’t been taken away from us; his spirit is in us all. Remember how I told you I sensed his presence in the kindness of the caretaker at the Garden of Tombs.

Maria, they stole his body! Cephas shouted. Don’t you want to know who did this and where they put his corpse?

No, Maria replied. I would rather remember him the way he was.

James smiled.

You’re a strange one, Maria, he said, but in this I agree with you. I’m much more concerned about our safety than who has taken Joshua’s body. I really urge you all to leave Jerusalem. We’ll be all right here, but they’ll come looking for you Galileans. The Romans consider you to be freedom fighters and zealots. Go back to Galilee where you belong.

Your wife’s a Galilean, Jonas reminded James.

Yes, but she’s a woman. She’ll be safe. It’s you men whom the High Priests are seeking, James reasserted. They think you deliberately stole the body because you wanted a rallying cause for your zealot zeal. Galileans are always suspect here in Jerusalem. The High Priesthood functions at Rome’s bidding.

Is that all Joshua meant to you, James? Maria interjected.

She looked around for support from Miriam.

It was us women who were the first to go back to the tomb, she said. Where were you all then? Only Cephas and Jonah came with us.

The other two members of the twelve ‘chosen ones’, Simon the zealot and Matthew, who had been hovering at the doorway into the back room, stepped forward to join them.

That’s different. Embalming is women’s work, Simon insisted. James is right, it is the ten of us whom the High Priests will seek. Maybe Thaddeus was the lucky one, staying up in Galilee. For our own safety we should go back.

Cephas looked at Janus.

What do you think? he asked.

Janus turned to Jonas and then spoke up:

We have no money and no need to be here. I think we should go back to Galilee and join Thaddeus in Capernaum. Perhaps we should fish again. I’m sure Zebedee still has our boats.

What about Barnabas, Thomas, and Philip, then? Cephas reminded them.

If they come back, James can tell them where we’ve gone, Janus suggested. I doubt Judas will bother to follow us to Galilee. What can he achieve by betraying us further?

Exactly, Janus, James said with authority. The High Priests are afraid of the Romans here in Jerusalem. They’re afraid that if we have Joshua’s body we might start a riot. Riots lead to Roman retribution and that’s what the Temple authorities want to avoid. Here, in Jerusalem, they’re not concerned with what may happen in Galilee. To them, Galilee is Herod’s problem. They’re looking after the future of the Temple and themselves.

All right, we should go, Cephas reluctantly agreed. We’ll leave in the morning.

* * *

Maria couldn’t sleep. It was in the stillness of the night that she felt her loss most. Somehow, in the presence of the others, she was able to convey the new strength that she had encountered at the tomb, but alone at night, her human frailty gnawed at her confidence. In the silence, she realized that his arms would never hold her again.

As soon as the dawn broke, she got up, trying not to disturb Rachel, Miriam, and little Joanna. Hearing her, Joanna turned on her straw pallet and sleepily opened an eye, but she quickly returned to slumber. Maria took Joshua’s burial shroud, which she had used as a pillow, and, keeping it tightly folded, carried it out of the house. In the growing light of the empty street, she slowly unfolded the material as the first cockerels heralded the dawn. Soon, the ghostly image came into view. She saw her lover’s face once more. A chill came over her each time she did this, but somehow she felt compelled to keep opening up the shroud. She had not shown it to the others. She had kept this intimate secret to herself, but knowing that they were planning to leave Jerusalem she wondered if she should share her secret.

On the first two days, she had noticed a strange tingling sensation when she had touched the image of his face. It seemed less obvious now, but her fingers could still faintly feel something. She raised the linen to her lips and lightly kissed the image. Her heart raced, and then, awesome fear struck her. She pulled the cloth away and rapidly wound it up, hoping that nobody had seen her. Her mind was made up. She would keep her secret to herself.

Quietly, Maria crept back into the house.

Cephas was awake.

You’re up early, he mumbled. Couldn’t you sleep either?

No, Cephas, Maria answered. It’s at night that I miss him most.

Cephas came toward her. Instinctively, she held the shroud behind her back. He put his arms on her shoulders.

Why did it happen? he asked again. Why was he taken from us?

Maria could not conceal glassy tears that were forming in her eyes. She squeezed the shroud for comfort.

I don’t know, she whispered gently, but I do know this, Cephas. Joshua is still with us in spirit.

I will miss you, Cephas continued, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks with his rough hands. I think I know why the Master chose you.

You, too, Cephas, she said. He chose you to lead us. I can see his presence in your face as assuredly as I saw it in the face of that caretaker. When we are at our weakest he will give us strength.

Cephas began to cry. He released his hold on Maria and sat on the bench by the trestle table. The other men began to stir on their pallets and Maria moved through into the women’s room.

Rachel and Miriam were now awake and soon would begin to knead the dough to make matzoth for the men. They would all need something to take with them on their journey.

* * *

Jonah and James watched the ‘chosen ones’ until they were out of sight. The women had said their farewells inside.

It’s a relief, Jonah, James said, expressing himself freely. They would have got us all arrested. This pharisee from Tarsus named Saul is determined to crush any Galilean movement that threatens peace in Jerusalem. He’s also obsessed with Joshua’s lost body, insisting that some of Joshua’s followers have taken it.

I never really did like having them around, Jonah admitted. It was very tense even when Joshua was here.

They’ll all be better off in Galilee, James said as he put his arm around his brother. They need to go back to their fishing as Janus and Jonas suggested. They really never did fit in here in Jerusalem."

He paused.

It was all such a waste…Joshua could have been such a great man…a real leader of our people, he continued. You know, he used to talk to me about that. He believed in his destiny as a spiritual heir of King David. Why couldn’t he have worked through the authorities instead of becoming a nomadic preacher healing the diseases of the poor and getting mixed up with a bunch of dangerous zealots?

We all have our dreams, James. Remember, I was once a freedom fighter, Jonah reminded his scholarly brother. Judas Iscariot and I were once best friends full of hope that we could drive the Romans from our land. Now, I realize our folly, but it all seemed so right at the time.

Do you think that’s why Judas betrayed him, then? James asked.

You mean because Joshua accepted the Roman yoke?

Yes, Jonah. You know how much Judas hated the Romans, so surely he would have been disappointed in Joshua’s passive ways.

I don’t know, Jonah continued slowly. I think it was a lot more than that. Judas seemed to be jealous of Joshua’s relationship with some of the others, especially Cephas, Janus, and Jonas. He seemed to think he should have had a place in the inner circle, especially as he was their provision master. But it was even more than that. Judas hated Maria. He blamed her for changing Joshua. I once overheard him telling Simon that he thought they were committed lovers and that the Master was giving himself up to an angel from the devil!

Laughing, he looked up at James.

That’s funny really, he said. When Judas and I were freedom fighters I don’t think Judas would have ever believed in angels whether from God or the devil! Maybe he was slightly jealous?

That’s interesting, James commented. Do you think he really had his eyes on Maria?

He knew how she was on the mattress, Jonah said with a knowing smile. We all knew about her when we were living in Magdala. Many fishermen on the lake lay with her and her mother in those days.

But couldn’t she have changed? James suggested. Don’t you think Joshua had a remarkable influence on her rather than the other way round? She certainly has shown a more understanding attitude than the others since Joshua’s death.

Yes, I do. I like her, James. In fact, I feel very sorry for her because her loss is probably the greatest of us all. It doesn’t matter to me if she lay with the Master. Who can ever prove it, anyway?

They turned and climbed up the steps back into the upper room. Little Joanna was arguing with Marcus. Miriam and Maria were engrossed in a deep conversation and barely looked up when the men came in. Rachel had started to sweep the floor. They all seemed quite pleased that Joshua’s ‘chosen ones’ had left.

After a short while, they heard shouting outside and before James could get to it, the door burst open letting in members of the High Priest’s guard. Saul of Tarsus followed, startling James by his rough appearance.

Where are the Galileans? Saul shouted. Are you hiding them?

There’s nobody here, James replied calmly.

Saul didn’t recognize James as a member of the Sanhedrin. He slapped his face and pushed him aside.

Search the house! he yelled at the guards.

The rough men rushed into the back room. Finding nothing there, they returned to the larger chamber.

Saul pointed at Jonah.

Who is this man? he shouted.

He’s my brother, James replied. My younger brother. He lives with us.

And this woman? Saul continued, looking at Maria. Who is she?

She is the mother of the boy, and was staying with us for Passover, James answered as calmly as he could.

What’s your name? Saul asked.

Maria.

She sounds like a Galilean! he yelled. Seize her!

Two of the High Priest’s guards rushed forward and grabbed Maria by the wrists, pushing her arms up behind her back.

Maria winced.

Let me go! she screamed. I am a Galilean! Why shouldn’t I be from Galilee?

Did you know Joshua the miracle working zealot leader? Saul asked.

Maria didn’t answer, but looked at James, appealing for help.

One of the guards slapped Maria across the face.

Answer me! Saul yelled.

James put up his hand, admonishing Saul.

Don’t you know me? he inquired calmly. Don’t you know I’m also a member of the Sanhedrin Council?

Saul turned from Maria and looked at James.

Yer… You! he stammered.

Yes, Saul. I have heard you in the chamber and I know of your concern as to who might have carried off the corpse of the Galilean. You must believe me, I’m not hiding the body here and nor are my relatives and guests. It really is of no interest to us. It is of no consequence whether we knew the miracle worker or not. You have my word as a councilor…the body is not here. None of us have any knowledge as to where that corpse may be.

The zealot was here the night that we arrested him, Saul stated a little more calmly, but with the authority of knowing.

Yes, James admitted. I offered Joshua and his friends this room to celebrate the Passover. Being Galileans, they had nowhere to go. I would hardly call Joshua a zealot. The last time I saw Joshua was when he and his friends left the house to go to the Mount of Olives to pray. What you did to him after that is your affair. Don’t harass us! Remember that I, too, have friends in the Sanhedrin!

Saul backed away.

Search the rest of the house one more time, he shouted to his men without taking his eyes off James.

Saul agreed to leave when they found nothing, but before doing so he shook his fist at James.

Cursed be you, James Ben Joseph, he shouted. If we should ever find out you are hiding the Galileans, you’ll lose everything you have!

CHAPTER TWO

On the road to Emmaus

Cephas had led the reduced group of Joshua’s ‘chosen ones’ out of Jerusalem along the road to Emmaus where they had set up their camp away from the track in the relative safety of a spinney of cedars and scrubby underbrush. There, in fear, they hid themselves overnight.

In the morning, Cephas sent Simon and Andrew into the village to beg for some provisions so that they could eat before they set out on their journey across the barren country to the north. Begging was not easy in the small village and the two disciples had to use their guile to steal as best they could. The market place was small, comprised of only a handful of stalls, easily watched by the three anxious peasants who wanted to sell their produce. Simon and Andrew had to bide their time as they sat beneath an olive tree in the square. At length, their moment came.

A peasant woman became involved in a lengthy argument with one of the traders over the quality of his produce. Simon moved in and grabbed a melon from a pile beside the trader’s stand in the dusty street. While the frustrated merchant tried to placate the woman, Andrew stole a loaf of bread that she had put down. One of the other two traders in the square began to laugh.

The two disciples ran. They were already well down the street when they heard the cry:

Thief!

Nobody chased after them, however. The merchants seemed more interested in shouting at each other in the joy and spite of personal rivalry than to chase the villains. Simon and Andrew were soon on the outskirts of the village. The melon felt ripe and the bread was still warm.

As they made their way back along the track to the spinney of cedars, they saw a man coming toward them. He was dressed in a dirty white robe that showed recent blood stains. His beard was unkempt and his face looked bruised and weathered from travel.

Have you bread to spare? the man asked when he reached them and saw their loaf.

Hardly, Andrew replied.

Please! the man pleaded. Break me off a piece from your loaf! I haven’t eaten for two days!

You’re not far from the next village, Simon suggested. You can buy bread there.

I have no coins, the man replied pathetically. I was robbed outside Jerusalem. They took what little I had and beat me up. I lay beside the road and nobody took any notice of me. You look like kind men. Just give me a morsel of your bread.

We have seven to feed and all we have is this loaf and melon. We have nothing to spare, Andrew explained.

Where are the others? the man asked. I don’t believe you!

Simon tugged at the sleeve of Andrew’s rough robe.

Perhaps we should take him with us, he whispered. Isn’t that what the Master would have done?

Andrew had a faraway look as he contemplated Simon’s suggestion.

Yes, it’s easy for us to forget, he replied.

Come, then, Andrew said to the stranger, we’ll take you to our camp. You look like you could do with a rest, but there really is very little to eat.

What’s your name? Simon asked.

Joseph Barsabbas, the man answered.

I’m Simon, and this is my young friend Andrew, the old zealot said. I’ll tell you what, let’s go back to the village and see if we can get some more food for the others. With your help we might pick up another loaf of bread and a couple more melons.

What if the merchants recognize us? Andrew spoke up, not relishing a return to Emmaus.

They won’t have to as we have Barsabbas to help us, Simon chuckled.

They turned and made their way back along the dusty road to the village.

We may have to steal the bread and melons, Simon explained to Barsabbas. Do you mind?

A smile warmed across Joseph Barsabbas’ face.

Do you think I’ve not had to fend for myself before? he said. "I’ll get you two loaves and a melon! First, you had better hide what you have. One of you should stay outside the village here, while the other leads me to the market place.

You stay, Simon said to Andrew.

Simon was beginning to enjoy the rough life. It reminded him of his youth with the freedom fighters. He was happy to have another chance to deprive the merchants of their produce. He had missed some of the excitement of survival in the relative comfort of traveling with the ‘chosen ones’.

Simon and Barsabbas boldly walked into the center of the village and planned their theft.

While I’m haggling with the merchant, steal the watermelon, Barsabbas whispered. I’ll take care of the loaves, trust me.

Simon had no difficulty in lifting another watermelon while Barsabbas haggled vigorously with the merchant.

When Barsabbas saw that Simon had succeeded and made his escape, he shouted at the disgruntled merchant:

Hey! Look! A thief!

The merchant turned only to see another melon had gone. Simon by now was well away, and Barsabbas swiftly grabbed two flat loaves and fled himself. The women around the stall stood back clutching their robes in instinctive fear as the angry merchant screamed abuse, but as before, nobody came to help him in his plight.

Not good business, Jacob! one of the other two merchants jibed. Soon, you’ll have nothing left and they will all have to come to us. Your melons are rotten anyway!

A brawl ensued as the enraged Jacob plunged into the other merchants’ produce sweeping it to the ground in fury. The villagers stood back and let them fight it out while others took advantage of the free spoils.

Simon and Barsabbas soon rejoined Andrew, and true to his word, Barsabbas produced two flat loaves and Simon an additional melon. They laughed heartily and set forth once more for the spinney of cedar trees over the hill. Andrew and Simon knew that there was enough now for them all to enjoy something of an evening meal.

* * *

Cephas stood up as Andrew approached with the stranger. The afternoon sun shafting through the cedars caught the dirty white of Joseph Barsabbas’ robe, giving it a brilliance well in excess of reality. The man bore a striking resemblance to the Master and Cephas was reminded of the day that he had seen Joshua standing in those shafts of light on the upper slopes of Mount Tabor.

Who is this? Cephas inquired bravely, barely trusting the judgment of his eyes.

Barsabbas, Andrew answered.

Cephas felt the pang of disappointment. For a fleeting moment, he truly thought Joshua had returned to them. Ever since they found the tomb to be empty, Cephas wondered if Joshua really ever died.

We met Barsabbas on the way to Emmaus, Andrew continued. He was robbed and beaten up outside Jerusalem and he helped us to get provisions for tonight. We haven’t much, Cephas. The village is too small for beggars and the few merchants in the square keep a close watch over their produce. It was difficult, but we managed to steal what we have.

Cephas nodded his head in suspicious approval.

We grabbed these two melons, Andrew said, putting the fruit down on the ground. They might be a little bruised but they’ll suffice.

He turned to Simon and Barsabbas.

Simon got a loaf of bread and Barsabbas stole two more flat loaves.

The two men stepped forward with their ill-gotten gains.

At least we’ll all have something tonight, Andrew concluded.

Yes, it’ll do, Cephas agreed, although his mind still seemed far away. It’s funny…you look very familiar. Do we know you? he asked Barsabbas as he looked around at the others for support. I feel like I know you.

I don’t think so, the stranger replied with a whimsical smile.

He hadn’t appeared to recognize Andrew or Simon, but he acted as if he had seen Cephas before.

You assisted the Galilean miracle worker, didn’t you? Joseph Barsabbas asked directly.

Cephas’ heart leaped in mingled excitement and fear. Perhaps the man is a spy sent by the Jerusalem priests, but maybe he is Joshua escaped from his tomb. What if the Master is testing me, because I denied him before? He was stunned and didn’t know how to answer.

Janus came to his rescue.

We were at some of his healings, he explained. Did you go to see Joshua, for a cure?

Yes, Barsabbas replied. I went out to Bethany to see what was going on. A friend of mine had suffered from pains in his back and legs that kept him from sleeping. He went to Bethany and swore to me that the miracle worker took away his pain. Curious myself, the next time I went out there with him, I saw the man.

Then, he pointed at Cephas.

And I’m sure I saw you, too! he said.

Cephas trembled.

Do you think that Joshua was a real healer? Janus asked Barsabbas wisely.

Of course! Many people were healed from all over. People went to Bethany from Jerusalem and there were others there from Jericho and the Jordan valley. I don’t really know where the crowds came from. Different people kept coming in every day that I was there.

Barsabbas looked at Cephas again.

Why am I telling you all this? You were with him weren’t you?

Cephas suddenly felt his strength returning. He smiled. It was the first time that the others had seen the burly old fisherman smile since the Master’s arrest.

Yes, we were all there, he replied. We were Joshua’s ‘chosen ones’.

Is he here, then? Barsabbas asked.

Don’t you know? Janus interjected, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Know what?

That they crucified him!

What! They killed the healer?

Cephas dropped his head again in sadness.

Yes, he mumbled. They killed the Master because he upset the High Priests.

How? Barsabbas asked. The man only helped people with his healing powers.

Perhaps he went too far when he tried to stop the money changers at the Temple from cheating the pilgrims at Passover, Cephas replied. There was a riot, and although we escaped, it was shortly after then that they arrested him.

You were with him? Barsabbas pressed, fascinated by the story.

At the Temple, Janus continued as he saw Cephas falter. We were at the foot of the Mount of Olives when they arrested him, but they took him away and we never saw him again.

Cephas said nothing. His heart churned with those awesome feelings of guilt that he couldn’t shake.

They crucified him for challenging the money changers? Barsabbas questioned incredulously. That’s hardly an offence worthy of death.

There’s more to it than that, Janus agreed. One of our group informed on him. I suspect that he gave the High Priests false information. We’ll find out, but whatever it was, they are still angry, and we’ve had to flee from Jerusalem ourselves. We’re going north to become fishermen again. We’re not going to start our journey until tomorrow, so please stay with us tonight.

Thanks, Barsabbas said slowly. Here’s my bread.

Janus took the two loaves and passed them to Cephas.

Cephas broke off a piece and gave the loaves back to Janus who passed them round to the others.

Just take a little each, he suggested. There isn’t much, but what we have we’ll share.

Cut up the melons, Janus instructed his brother Jonas. Make sure that you create eight portions.

Jonas sliced open the ripe melons into eight divisions with his fisherman’s knife. The juice oozed out accompanied by stray pips, and eagerly the hungry men took a section each. They hadn’t eaten since they’d left James’ house the day before.

After their meal, during the afternoon, Joseph Barsabbas asked many questions about Joshua. He seemed genuinely curious, and it was good for Janus and Jonas to sit with him and tell of their wandering life with the Master. Cephas didn’t say much, but he listened intently as the sons of Zebedee revealed some of the things that Joshua had told them and the stories of his miraculous cures. It was dark by the time they revealed the ultimate miracle—the story of how Joshua had raised Lazarus from the dead.

That was always rumored in Jerusalem, Barsabbas noted, but you actually saw Lazarus come out of the tomb?

Yes, Janus answered. He was wrapped in burial cloths and his face was almost transparent—a ghostly gray. He couldn’t walk, but men dragged him out of the cave. After a while, he could talk very slowly. It was quite frightening.

You say that Joshua’s tomb is also now empty? Barsabbas said wide-eyed with expectation. Do you think he could have raised himself from the dead?

The Jerusalem Priests took his body, Cephas said shaking with fear. James says so. He knows because he’s one of them—a member of the Sanhedrin Council.

What for? Barsabbas pressed.

Probably because they were jealous that he had been buried in a rich man’s tomb. You know how they are. They probably wanted his body to be thrown into the common pit.

They sat in silence as they all thought about the mysterious disappearance of Joshua’s body in the light of what Barsabbas had suggested. The embers of the campfire glowed and at length they turned to sleep.

* * *

Cedar trees swayed in swirling mist as Cephas crawled along the forest floor. The dead twigs cracked beneath his weight, but he could see a light beyond the forest. He frantically tried to reach that light but it kept advancing in his vision; it was so near and yet always so far. New trees appeared as fast as the old cedars receded. Cephas pulled himself up and began to run toward the light. It came closer…then the mists parted to reveal a more natural scene. He was in the spinney. They were all there—all of them except Judas Iscariot. Had he been dreaming? It was bright daylight again and shafts of light through the trees caught the white robe of the Master. There was blood on the robe, but there was no mistaking the face of Joshua looking directly at him.

Master! he cried.

Joshua didn’t speak.

Master! Cephas cried again.

Slowly, the man in the white robe vaporized into the shaft of light and Cephas awoke…

He blinked. The sun was already up. Barsabbas was looking down at him. Momentarily, Cephas again thought he was looking at Joshua’s face. There was such a striking similarity in the features of this sympathetic disciple and the Master.

Who were you calling? Barsabbas asked.

Calling? Cephas replied.

Yes, you just shouted out for the ‘Master’.

It must have been a dream, Barsabbas. I saw Joshua in a dream. He was here, standing with us in the spinney, Cephas explained.

His eyes caught the bloodstains on Barsabbas’ dirty white robe and when he looked up again he became scared. Surely this is Joshua’s face? he thought. He started backwards and put his arm up in instinctive protection.

Master! he shouted again.

Janus stirred.

What is it? he said sleepily.

Nothing, Cephas replied, realizing that he was looking at Barsabbas.

Just a dream, Barsabbas explained. He thought he saw Joshua the miracle worker in a dream.

Are you all right? Janus asked Cephas.

Cephas pulled himself together.

Yes, I’m fine, he said. What’s wrong with you both? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Come on now, the sun is already up and we need to get on our way.

He turned to Barsabbas.

Are you going to come with us? We might need your help foraging for food. We’re going to have to live on our wits traveling the hill country to the north. It’s time to wake up the others.

I’ll be with you in spirit, Barsabbas said. I must go my own way, now, but I will look for you in Capernaum later.

Janus stood up shaking the last vestiges of sleep from his body with a stretch and a yawn. It wasn’t long before the little band of ‘chosen one’s’ left Barsabbas and the spinney, turning north over rough country toward Samaria.

CHAPTER THREE

Maria’s Confession

About two weeks after the ‘chosen ones’ left Jerusalem, Maria first began to feel those inner signs that told of her pregnancy. She remembered how it had been when Marcus was conceived and she had first suspected that Linus, the Roman boy, was probably the future father of her child. This time, there was no fear of disgrace, but a deep shock came over her as she realized the implications of her dream come true. She was going to have the child of a man whom many had revered as a son of God and the man who had taught her that love was Divine.

At first, Maria was afraid to share her news, but after she had confirmed her condition, she sought out Miriam with whom to share the secret. She didn’t want to tell her in the house, as she wasn’t sure what Rachel would say, so she suggested Miriam should come with her on an afternoon walk out to the Mount of Olives. Just before they reached the glade at Gethsemane, Maria told Miriam that she was almost certainly expecting a child.

Miriam’s face dropped.

Whose? she asked, obviously disturbed, knowing only too well that it must be Joshua’s.

Yes, Miriam, I believe you will become a grandmother.

You were not even married, Miriam sobbed.

Nor were you, Maria replied with a twinkle, as she turned and looked Miriam squarely in the eyes. Miriam, did that make you any the less able to be a mother to Joshua? Do you think Joshua has not shared some of your secrets with me?

Miriam started to cry.

Why do you still speak of Joshua as if he is living, she spluttered. Joshua’s dead!

No, Miriam. Only Joshua’s body is dead. His spirit lives on. You heard him. Didn’t he try to teach us that the spirit of God that was so obvious in him also grows in all of us? I’ve seen his spirit in others—in the caretaker at the Garden of Tombs, and in Cephas. At times, I see his spirit in you, and in Marcus, and Joanna. He will always be with us as long as we live and see the love of God in others. That’s why I’m so happy, Miriam. If I’m going to have his baby, I will see him in my child, knowing that the greatest expression of love that we shared went into creating this son of God.

Be careful, Maria. That is a dangerous expression. I have always believed that Joshua was God’s Divine gift to me, but I preferred to call him the Prince of Peace. It is blasphemous to call a man God.

But, Joshua raised Lazarus from the dead, Miriam, Maria said with confidence. An ordinary man could not do such a thing.

I didn’t say Joshua was an ordinary man, Maria, Miriam replied, recovering her composure. I really do not believe he had a father. Joseph certainly was not his father.

But you must know who was his father, Maria insisted.

I’m not sure, was all Miriam answered.

She became extremely pensive.

They walked on into the glade.

Do you mind if I’m going to be the mother of your grandchild? Maria asked.

I’m not sure, Miriam repeated as if she were in some sort of a trance.

Maria tried to change the subject, sensing that Miriam might have been shocked by her news.

Isn’t this place beautiful, she commented. I come here all the time. I love to hear the sound of the birds and the babbling brook. It’s so lush here, even the date palms look different.

Miriam paled.

Have I hurt you? Maria asked. I can’t keep hiding my thoughts from you. You’re the obvious person to whom I should turn to share my sadness and my joy.

No, it’s not you, Miriam said slowly. I’ve always avoided this place even though Joshua used to come here frequently. It’s all to do with something that happened a long time ago.

This is where your grandchild was conceived, Maria said with a warm smile, hoping that maybe Miriam would respond.

Miriam said nothing, but just stared ahead looking at the view of Jerusalem through the palms and olives. Then, after this pregnant silence, she turned and reached out for Maria. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She sobbed on Maria’s shoulder.

Maria felt Miriam gasping for breath between her sobs as she clutched onto her and dropped to her knees.

It’s all right, Maria said soothingly as she stroked Miriam’s graying hair. I love you, just as I loved your son. Everything will be all right. Don’t worry.

It’s not you, Miriam spluttered out at length. It’s something else. It’s something that I have never told anyone, not even Joshua knew it all. It happened right here, right in this glade.

Maria realized that Miriam was remembering a traumatic experience, and with her intuition for things sensual, she had an idea what it might be.

Was he Joshua’s father? she asked gently.

Miriam looked up at her.

I really don’t think so, but I will never be sure, was all she said.

Maria smiled with some sort of relief. Miriam is human after all, she thought.

It’s all right, she said. I can never be sure who was Marcus’ father. I was working at my mother’s brothel at that time. There were several men who could have been his father, but, somehow, I know that Marcus was Linus the Roman’s son. You know, it’s a funny thing, Miriam, but we really choose whom we want to be the father of our child if there is a doubt. It is the love that counts.

Yes, Miriam spluttered. It’s the love that counts. What happened here was not love. Gabriel raped me. That’s why I never considered him to be Joshua’s father.

Maria winced.

Did you ever see this Gabriel again? she asked.

Only once. He passed us in the Temple courts when we went up to Jerusalem for my purification and had Joshua circumcised. Later, I heard the King had Gabriel executed. Gabriel never knew Joshua. I always told Joshua that he didn’t have a father…that he was a child from God. You know, in a funny way I believe that, Maria. God’s angels told me so. Others thought so, too. When Joshua was born, rich merchants came to us with gifts, saying they had been led to us by the great star in the night sky over Bethlehem at that time. They called Joshua the Prince of Peace.

Go on, Maria said softly.

We kept that treasure, Maria. It paid for our passage back from Alexandria in Egypt when Joshua was nine. Later, when Joshua married Rachel’s sister, Joanna, I gave the treasure to him. I don’t know where it is now. Maybe Joshua lost it. I always knew, however, regardless as to whom Joshua’s father might have been, that he was a child walking in the spirit of God with a special destiny. As James says, maybe that destiny would have been properly revealed if he had not been seized by the High Priests and put to death by the Romans.

"I think he gave us his message, Miriam. He showed us that there is a spark of God in all of us, which we can either ignore or kindle into the fire of Divine love. He