The Thirteenth Disciple

By Michael Morgan

In Bethlehem Mary has identical twins: Jesus and Jesse. The boys grow up together, but their education and interests diverge. Whereas the upbringing of Jesus is centered on the synagogue, Jesse attends Roman schools and becomes devoted to the integration of the Hebrew nation into the Roman Empire. Accordingly, while Jesus becomes an itinerant preacher in Galilee and Judea, Jesse undertakes a voyage with a Roman friend, Marcellus, to Italy. There he works as a shipping clerk in the port city of Ostia and falls in love with Adriana, daughter of a wealthy local merchant. When the father learns of their affair, however, he demands that Jesse depart. The young mans decision to do so is clinched by the accidental death of Marcellus in a chariot race.

Jesses return to Palestine is marred by a severe case of malaria, leaving him emaciated and enfeebled. His recovery is hastened by the loving ministrations of Mary Magdalene, with whom he establishes an intimate bond. Meanwhile, Jesse encounters his twin once more and becomes one of his followers, the thirteenth disciple. He is consequently present at the Last Supper, identified only as the one whom Jesus loved. Charged with being a radical dissident, Jesus is arrested, tried, and condemned to death under the regime of King Herod. The scene is thus set for the dramatic events of a crucifixion. Only, the executioners knew not what they were doing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jan 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781466975163

Michael Morgan

Michael Morgan is seminary musician for Columbia Theological Seminary and organist at Central Presbyterian Church in Atlanta. He is also a Psalm scholar and owns one of the largest collections of English Bibles in the country.

Book preview

Part One

The Nazarene

Chapter One

Heavy with child. Seldom has a common saying so aptly described an individual circumstance. Seated uncomfortably in a little cart drawn by a pack donkey, Mary jolted and lurched along a rocky pathway leading southward from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Walking beside was her husband Joseph. Behind the wagon, drawn by ropes, came their three goats, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—so ancient and scrawny, as Joseph liked to explain, that they were undoubtedly refugees from the Babylonian Captivity, hence their names. But they had the compensating virtue, like the donkey, of being able to go several days without water. And they grudgingly gave milk.

From the beginning it had been a difficult pregnancy, with daily bouts of nausea, swollen ankles, and increasingly tormenting pains in the back. Mary had endured them all, but the constant pounding of this journey was almost too much to bear. She had been less than thrilled when Joseph told her that they had no choice but to set off for his family homestead on the southern edge of Bethlehem. A census of property was being conducted by the Roman authorities, and if Joseph expected to secure the inheritance of his parental home for himself and his offspring, they would need to appear in person to claim it. There could be no registration by proxy. So Mary consented, as she usually did, to Joseph’s wishes, and she was now forced to pay the price inflicted by rigid axles and wooden wheel rims.

She had plenty of time to reflect on the events that had led her to this fate, and she did not blame Joseph for her predicament. They had accidentally bumped into each other one day at the Nazareth marketplace. It was one of those rare occasions when an itinerant fishmonger showed up with a catch of sardines from the Sea of Galilee. Located midway between that lake and what was usually called the western sea, Nazarenes were neither fishermen nor as a rule eaters of fish. Yet fresh sardines were considered a delicacy, and the chance to claim a mess for dinner quickly attracted an aggressive crowd. It was in the midst of the ensuing melee that the couple had rudely met and afterwards, each clutching a prize, exchanged a brief word of triumph.

The attraction was mutual from the outset. Joseph was considerably older, already in his fifties, a widower with two teenage sons. He was a large man with big hands, like his father a carpenter by trade. Amiable and quiet, he exuded the calm patience of an artisan sure of his tools and skills. Mary was a rather homely girl, but sturdy and shapely, just past the age of twenty. Since Nazareth’s population was hardly more than four hundred, everyone knew everyone there, at least faintly. Yet Joseph had never taken particular notice of her until that collision at the market. Other encounters followed, at first polite greetings with a knowing smile that recalled their first meeting. Then they began to pause together for a chat under an old olive tree, which soon became their favorite trysting place. Joseph looked there for Mary each morning and was always disappointed when she did not appear. She was still living with her parents, who sent her on routine shopping errands without knowing she had more in mind than a family chore.

After several months Mary accepted Joseph’s bashful invitation to visit his house, a typical four-room Israelite dwelling with a narrow front doorway leading to an interior courtyard. Joseph’s boys were seldom at home, so the two often had time to themselves to become better acquainted and, finally, more intimate. One day they withdrew from the midday heat into Joseph’s quarters, and there they lay together throughout the afternoon. After Joseph covered Mary with his robe, they made love gently and fell asleep in each other’s arms. Mary later said that it had been like a wonderful dream, and Joseph joked about whether it had really happened—until the truth became undeniable that she was pregnant. Her morning sickness began, she felt a tightening and a slight swelling in her abdomen, and her menstrual cycle was disrupted. The symptoms were obvious to her if not yet to others.

What to do? Informally they were in effect engaged. But there was now a danger of scandal or worse. Mary might be accused of whoring, stripped, banished from the village, or even in the most extreme event stoned. Ever considerate, Joseph wanted to spare his betrothed and her family any shame or harm, and he offered to break the engagement and keep his fatherhood incognito. But how would that work? Mary could take to her room, remain out of sight for months, and give birth without notice. Yet it would eventually become known that she had a child, and questions were bound to be asked. Rumors would circulate in that same marketplace where they had met and often been seen together. Their relationship could not long remain a secret.

Besides, they were in love, and both wanted a baby. Better it would be, then, for Mary to leave her parents and to move in with Joseph and his sons, thereby sealing their marriage and making a public acknowledgement of their union. Thus Mary came to Joseph, recurrent illness, bloated ankles, sore back, and all. She became enormously pregnant and deeply happy, until that day when her husband announced that they must undertake the trip to Bethlehem, and they departed along the bumpy road to claim Joseph’s family estate.

The miserable little caravan proceeded for six days before nearing its destination. They could, in fact, see the town of Bethlehem on a hillside before them. But it was late in the afternoon, and Mary was overcome with fatigue. Joseph therefore decided to halt and to ask for lodging at a small roadside inn where lanterns had already been lighted for an evening meal. The innkeeper was an Arab named Ithra, whose wife was busy preparing the supper for several guests. Every room in the inn was occupied, and Ithra’s only suggestion was that the weary travelers might occupy what he jovially referred to as the bridal suite: a pair of small caves directly behind the inn, which ordinarily served as stalls for the livestock, two cows and a few sheep. The animals could be herded into an outdoor enclosure and the shelter tidied up for human habitation. A blanket on straw would do