The Kingdom

By Earl Babbie

This book is a work of historical fiction. There are two stories, followed by a short Epilogue.
The first story centers on the life of Yeshua of Nazareth, later known as Jesus. All the major characters are people you’ve probably heard of, and I’ve tried to stay true to what is known about them, as well as the times they lived in. At the same time, there is more we don’t know about them than what we do know, so I have taken the liberty of filling in the blanks with what I hope you will find a plausible and engaging story. Bear in mind, however, that I have filled in the blanks with fiction; I make no claim to have uncovered new historical sources or enjoyed special revelations.
The Gospel of Thomas is a volume you may not be familiar with. It begins with a declaration that it contains the sayings of Jesus, as recorded by his twin brother, Judas Thomas. Clearly, some people feel it is exactly what it claims while others disagree. In Part One, I have Thomas scribbling down Jesus’s sayings from time to time.
The second story takes place during the Third Council of Carthage in 397 C.E. This is the time at which the most widely accepted table of contents for the Old and New Testaments of the Christian Bible was created from among the great many documents in circulation that purported to talk about Jesus, his life, message, and purpose. While I have attempted to stay true to the time and setting of the Council and have been faithful to the results of it, most of the characters and their interactions are fiction. Father Jerome, the central figure, went on to become St. Jerome, a real person, but I have made up his role in the council. I have found no historical data to show he was even there (nor that he wasn’t).
Father Jerome is given a copy of The Gospel of Thomas when he arrives at the Synod, and he slowly becomes increasingly taken by it. He tries, in fact, to have it included in the Bible.
I realize that these two stories may trouble some readers. That wasn’t my intention but I know it’s a risk. For some people it may be necessary to go through some discomfort in dealing with ideas like the ones in this book. I think Jesus addressed this in the second saying recorded in The Gospel of Thomas:
Let one who seeks not stop seeking until one finds. When one finds, one will be troubled. When one is troubled, one will marvel and will rule over all.
The Council at Carthage evidently preferred the discomfort-free and bumper-sticker-sized version reported by John (8:32): “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.”
It was not until recent times when popular culture restored the missing ingredient in Jesus’s formulation: “The truth shall set you free, but first it will piss you off.”
Let me say just a little more about the experience of writing this book. First, my academic career has revolved largely around writing college textbooks, mostly on the subject of social science research methods. So, while I am a writer, I am not a novelist. This is my first real attempt at fiction.
Second, I am a sociologist, not a religious or Biblical scholar. Writing this book has involved a good deal of self-education about the beginnings and growth of Christianity, and I have made every effort to be accurate. However, this book is not a scholarly reference on such subjects.
The Gospel of Thomas figures importantly in both stories. I don’t think I will violate the suspense of this book to let you know Thomas didn’t make the cut for The Bible. In my version, Jerome has a copy of The Gospel of Thomas and wants to make sure it is protected for posterity. So, I had planned to have him send the manuscript away to be hidden in Egypt. As you may or may not know, The Gospel of Thomas was discovered in the Nag Hammadi cave-library in 1945, so I figured I would cleverly have it sent there at the end of the Carthage Synod.
I think Jesus’s discovery and communication of The Kingdom is a powerful story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Earl Babbie
• Release date: Jul 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005690670

Earl Babbie

Earl Babbie is a retired sociology professor. For more than 40 years, his college textbooks on social research methods have been the best sellers in the USA and around the world. They are available in numerous translations. With his retirement from teaching, Earl has chosen to expand his writing activities to short stories, novels, screenplays, and other non-textbooks. He has had a lifelong passion for writing, with his first crime stories written when he was 7 or 8 years old. His aim is to put words together in such a way as to make the reader laugh or cry or both.

Book preview

PREFACE

This book is a work of historical fiction. There are two stories, followed by a short Epilogue.

The first story centers on the life of Yeshua of Nazareth, later known as Jesus. All the major characters are people you’ve probably heard of, and I’ve tried to stay true to what is known about them, as well as the times they lived in. At the same time, there is more we don’t know about them than what we do know, so I have taken the liberty of filling in the blanks with what I hope you will find a plausible and engaging story. Bear in mind, however, that I have filled in the blanks with fiction; I make no claim to have uncovered new historical sources or enjoyed special revelations.

The second story takes place during the Third Council of Carthage in 397 C.E. This is the time at which the most widely accepted table of contents for the Old and New Testaments of the Christian Bible was created from among the great many documents in circulation, which purported to talk about Jesus, his life, message, and purpose. While I have attempted to stay true to the time and setting of the Council and have been faithful to the results of it, most of the characters and their interactions are fiction. Father Jerome, the central figure, went on to become St. Jerome, a real person, but I have made up his role in the council. I have found no historical data to show he was even there (nor that he wasn’t).

I realize that these two stories may offend some readers. That wasn’t my intention but I know it’s a risk. For some people it may be necessary to go through some discomfort in dealing with ideas like the ones in this book. I think Jesus addressed this in the second saying recorded in The Gospel of Thomas:

Let one who seeks not stop seeking until one finds. When one finds, one will be troubled. When one is troubled, one will marvel and will rule over all.

The Council at Carthage evidently preferred the discomfort-free and bumper-sticker-sized version reported by John (8:32): You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.

It was not until recent times when popular culture restored the missing ingredient in Jesus’s formulation: The truth shall set you free, but first it will piss you off.

Let me say just a little more about the experience of writing this book. First, my academic career has revolved largely around writing college textbooks, mostly on the subject of social science research methods. So, while I am a writer, I am not a novelist. This is my first real attempt at fiction.

Second, I am a sociologist, not a religious or Biblical scholar. Writing this book has involved a good deal of self-education about the beginnings and growth of Christianity, and I have made every effort to be accurate, but this book is not a scholarly reference on such subjects.

I was raised a Congregationalist, though I almost became a Methodist in eighth grade, when I was asked to join their basketball team. My parents were not harsh but were firm in their view that b-ball was not the best basis for picking a religion.

I currently do not belong to or identify with any particular religion nor do I subscribe to any set of religious dogma. Still, I consider myself a spiritual person. Prior to undergoing cancer surgery a few years ago, I wrote a letter to my family that could serve as a farewell statement if things went badly, and I said, among other things, that I did not know if there was an afterlife but it was easier for me to believe the physical universe was a figment of our imaginations than to believe what I felt and thought were all a product of biochemical accidents. In other words, I suspect there is more to life than meets the eye.

Writing this book has been a spiritual experience for me. If it had never been published or never read, the experience of writing it and sharing it with loved ones has made it worthwhile for me. I’ve learned some things that were interesting, and I’ve thought about things that were exciting to think about. And more than once my writing has preceded my learning. Reporting some these examples would give away parts of the book that I want to spring on you at the proper time, but I can mention a couple that may give you a sense of what it was like to write this book.

The first story line is about Jesus, of course. Reflecting a perhaps too-strong need for consistency, I decided the hero of the second story should begin with J, and I started using Jerome without much thought. In the course of my research, however, I was annoyed to run across some Catholic references to St. Jerome. I figured people would confuse my Jerome with the Saint, and I tried to think of other J names that might be appropriate to the era. And I fretted about the chore of changing the names in what I had already written.

In the process, though, I learned a little more about St. Jerome. And a little more. Before long, I was convinced that he was exactly the central character in the second story. He lived in Bethlehem at the time of the Carthage Synod. Where the second story is primarily about the creation of the official Bible, St. Jerome was, in fact, the official translator of that book.

The Synod was convened by St. Augustine, then the Bishop of Hippo, and I had planned to have Augustine ask my Jerome to participate in the Synod. As I continued reading, I discovered that Augustine and Jerome, while not buddies, knew of each other, corresponded, and seemed to respect one another as religious scholars. There is no historical record of Augustine asking Father Jerome to attend the Synod, but it seems altogether possible that he might have done so. And I have not been able to find any evidence of Jerome being anywhere else at the time.

The Gospel of Thomas figures importantly in both stories. I don’t think I will violate the suspense of this book to let you know Thomas didn’t make the cut for The Bible. In my version, Jerome has a copy of Thomas and wants to make sure it is protected for posterity. So, I had planned to have him send the manuscript away to be hidden in Egypt. As you may or may not know, The Gospel of Thomas was discovered in the Nag Hammadi cave-library in 1945, so I figured I would cleverly have it sent there at the end of the Carthage Synod.

Although I knew the library had been discovered in 1945, I was stunned one day to read a discussion of when the documents had been placed there. The best estimate is right around the time I had already said it happened.

These are only two examples out of many experiences that have accompanied the writing of the book. Though I had an overall vision for the story lines, I typically started each chapter with no clue as to where it was headed. Typically, I found myself caught up in the process, often feeling more like the typist than the author. Whenever I lost control of the unfolding stories, I’d recall John Denver’s phrase, sometimes I fly like an eagle. Happily, I was spared John’s accompanying sometimes I’m deep in despair, but it drove the little voice in the back of my head crazy. (What little voice? I don’t hear a little voice.)

So, as you can see, I’ve enjoyed the book immensely, and I hope you will enjoy it even a fraction as much as I have.

I have dedicated this book to my dear friend and colleague, Marvin Meyer. Marv was widely recognized as a leading New Testament Scholar. He was the translator of The Gospel of Thomas, which figures heavily in this novel. You may have seen him on the National Geographic special on The Gospel of Judas. (Marv said the producers let him keep the Indiana Jones hat he wore through his trek in the desert.) He was one of the translators of that volume. While Marv said he disagreed with some of my plot lines in this book--he didn’t think Jesus and Mary Magdalene married at Cana, for example--he strongly supported my writing the book. Whenever we ran across each other, he would ask, How’s The Kingdom coming?

Marv’s premature passing in 2012 was a personal loss for me and a loss for us all. He was one of those rare people who could combine a deep spirituality with an open-mindedness. Wherever he is, I hope he will know how the book turned out and will approve--in general, with some reservations.

PART ONE: GALILEE

01. Who is My Father?

No, Yeshua, the leg does not fit, Joseph said, impatiently. If you can’t follow my example, at least watch your brother. (Watch your brother. Jude is perfect.)

The young Yeshua stepped back and examined the stool he was trying to make and despaired at his obvious failure. It did not even look like a stool. If a child were to sit on this strange object, it would collapse. Then he looked at his brother, Jude, who was just completing work on yet another excellent contribution to the family’s carpentry business. Yeshua could see the pride in their father’s face as he looked upon what Jude had created. Though Yeshua somewhat resented Jude’s ability as a carpenter, a part of him had to admit that Jude had done nothing to earn his displeasure. (Wait, did Jude just smirk?)

If indeed Jude was really Yeshua’s brother. If Yeshua really was Joseph’s son, for that matter. Every day, Yeshua found himself questioning his parentage. Jude was clearly Joseph’s son; he was like a younger version of Joseph. He was a continuation of the lineage Joseph said extended down from King David. Yet Yeshua saw none of that noble lineage in himself. He could easily see it in Jude, and Jude seemed to recognize his heritage. Their parents, Joseph and Miriam, clearly saw it. And Judas Thomas, usually called Jude, was not just Yeshua’s brother, but his twin. They did look pretty much alike. Yet they were so different. He had it on good authority that they had issued forth from the same mother on the same day, but how could they share the same father? (Maybe my father was a priest or a rabbi.)

Yeshua displayed no ability as a carpenter. Whereas Jude, like his father, was able to focus his mind on the task at hand, Yeshua found focusing more difficult--sometimes impossible. If the strange object before him didn’t look like a stool, Yeshua had to admit that he had not been thinking about stools. His thoughts had been somewhere else and now he couldn’t even remember where they had been. Perhaps he had been possessed by spirits, but it didn’t seem as dramatic as the stories of possession he had heard about for the twelve years of his life. Sometimes he felt he would prefer being possessed by devils than to live the vague and confusing existence that was his normal experience of living. (Isn’t that more important than stupid stools?)

Did you hear me, Yeshua? The leg doesn’t fit. Abruptly, Yeshua realized that he had not even responded to Joseph’s initial rebuke. He willed his thoughts back into the mud-stone-and-wood structure that was Joseph’s workshop. He grew once more aware of his father, his brother, the tools, and the stack of wood leaning against the wall. He looked at the wooden thing in his hands, felt the failure and replied softly, I am sorry, father. I’m sure I measured it and cut it carefully, but it just became too short. (Maybe the stool is possessed. Stool or whatever it is.)

You have wasted the piece of wood. I think you were dreaming instead of measuring and cutting like a carpenter. Now what should we do? Should I give you another piece of wood to waste? Joseph’s impatience reflected the number of times he had had this conversation or a similar one with Yeshua. He took a moment to thank God for giving him Jude, James, Joses, and Simon, and he asked, once more, why God tormented him with this problem boy. Was God punishing him for some unknown sin? (Can’t you at least tell me what sin I am guilty of?) He loved Yeshua with all his heart. His son was a good person, but he was a dreamer. Joseph’s job was to train Yeshua and his other sons to be successful carpenters, so they could one day marry and provide for their families. Four of his five sons would surely learn the trade, but what of the fifth? (What will ever come of Yeshua?)

Perhaps I could shorten the other legs, father. Yeshua was hopeful.

No. Even if you could do that right, the stool would be too short for anyone to buy. You must pay for your carelessness. While Jude and I prepare for the evening meal, you will go back up the hillside to cut another branch for a proper leg. You can complete the stool in the morning.

I’ll help you find a branch for the leg, Jude volunteered. Yeshua felt a rush of gratitude toward his twin brother, but Joseph had other ideas. No. Yeshua must learn to do our work on his own. If he cannot learn to select a proper branch and make a fit stool, what will ever become of him? Will you take care of him for all his life, Jude? I will not allow that. (What did I do, God, to deserve such a troubled child?)

Joseph left no possibility for discussion, and Yeshua picked up the small axe and passed out of the workshop, eyes downcast, avoiding the looks of both Joseph and Jude. Although he was being punished and shamed, and although he might miss his evening meal, he was also somewhat relieved to be away from the unhappy circumstance. He felt he did not belong in the carpenter’s workshop. But he did not know where he belonged. Perhaps on the stony, curving trail up the hillside to the wood thicket in the distance.

He was both relieved and pained to be alone. Every day he became more certain that he did not belong. He could not believe he was truly Joseph’s son, and he knew that others in the village whispered that possibility behind his back. No one would dare voice the suspicion aloud within Joseph’s hearing, but Yeshua knew many believed Miriam had conceived Yeshua without Joseph’s participation. And Yeshua was sure Joseph himself suspected that he was only father to one of these twins: the one who acted like him, the one who brought pride into the household. (Why can’t Jude ruin a project now and then?)

The sun was now starting to set as Yeshua began the steeper ascent into the thicket covering the hillside to the north of the village. His sandals slipped on the loose rocks as he cast his gaze about for a fitting branch to let him complete the stool. Jude had completed three excellent stools while Yeshua was failing on the one. He tried to recall whether Jude’s look had contained a degree of pleasure in Yeshua’s failure. (That was a smirk, Jude. It was.) Upon reflection, he didn’t think so, but the thought did not go away altogether.

As it grew darker, Yeshua began to feel uneasy, even afraid. While he knew and was known to everyone in the village, there were dangerous animals in the hillside and rumors of outsiders he could not trust with his well-being. He began grabbing at branches, testing them for size and straightness. Each one he touched was too short or too bent. The few straight branches had too many branches of their own, which would require too much work and would leave ugly knots. (Does it have to be a stool? Maybe I could make a club. An ugly club, really scary.)

Yeshua had started the trip with a resolve to return with several useful branches, so his father would be proud of him for once. Now he was desperate to find even one that would barely suffice. As he moved further up the trail, his foot slipped and he fell to one knee, feeling the pain inflicted by the sharp stone that was his undoing. (Maybe I should make a cane or a crutch. I could test it on the way home)

The hapless apprentice wanted to cry out in frustration, but he was afraid of attracting wild animals or robbers. So, he screamed inside his mind. Since only God could hear such screams, he directed his anguish there. (Why are you punishing me? Do I not deserve your love and protection? Who is my father? Who am I?)

Yeshua begged for an answer, for some message, some guidance. Hadn’t God given Moses a burning bush? Yeshua looked around him for a burning bush now but saw none. In fact, he could see almost nothing as the sun’s light was nearly gone and the moon was only half lighted tonight. He would surely notice a burning bush, even a small one.

Then, his gaze fell upon a bush to his left. It wasn’t burning but it might contain the leg of a stool. Upon reflection it wasn’t the best possible branch for that purpose, but Yeshua hoped it would be good enough to satisfy Joseph tomorrow morning. He hacked through the branch and dragged it down the hillside untrimmed. Perhaps he would awaken early enough to trim it before Joseph, Jude, and their older brother, James, entered the workshop in the morning. He felt a spark of hope that it would work out that way. (Probably not.)

As he drew within sight of his home, Yeshua realized the trip to the hillside had accomplished one thing of possible importance. More clearly than ever before, he had faced the question of his real parentage. He had dared to ask God, ‘Who am I? Who is my father?’ But God had not even answered. (Maybe He's thinking it over.)

02. Childhood Tales

After an arduous five-day return from Jerusalem, Yeshua’s family was relieved to gather for an evening meal in a familiar dining area, actually sitting on chairs and stools and eating at a real table instead of the rough meals they had eaten most days on the rocky trail through the Jericho Valley. Their home was humble in comparison with some they had glimpsed on their odyssey south, but it was basically comfortable. And it was home.

Joseph and James had visited the fields and animal pens to ensure that all the grains and livestock had survived the family’s absence, and Miriam and her daughters had dusted off the kitchen pots and cooking stones and had prepared what now seemed like a feast.

There was also an excitement somewhat muted by mystery and the weariness of the long walk north regarding Yeshua’s strange behavior in Jerusalem. After all, they had nearly lost a son, Miriam’s first-born. As the family gathered around one of the first tables Joseph had made after his marriage to Miriam, following their return from Bethlehem and Egypt. Many of those now seated at the table divided their attention between the food set out before them and the 12-year-old boy seated between James and Jude. Yeshua’s family members seemed to be searching for some signs of transformation or special sanctity. After all, hadn’t the rabbis said Yeshua was unusually well educated in the Law and Scriptures for one so young? Even though they questioned some of his interpretations or understandings, they had seemed impressed by the depth and sophistication of his thought. They hadn’t dismissed him as a mere child, and his intellectual grasp of some religious mysteries even made them a bit uncomfortable. (Why is everyone looking at me?)

Now it was possible for the family to reflect on such matters, thoughtfully dipping the freshly baked bread into bowls of olive oil. When Miriam had first discovered Yeshua’s absence on the road home, the entire family had been gripped with fear. There had been so many pilgrims and other travelers clogging the road just outside the great city, Miriam had initially assumed Yeshua was walking with his Uncle Cleopas and his cousins, whom he had spent most of the southerly trek with. When Cleopas indicated he had not seen Yeshua since departing Jerusalem, Miriam was struck by fears of his being taken by robbers or even by Roman soldiers looking for some sport at the Jews’ expense. Yeshua could have easily offended some of the Roman laws, which seemed to fluctuate on a whim. (He’s such a dreamer, he could have broken a hundred laws.) (Before breakfast.)

Retracing their steps into the city and to the Temple steps, however, they had found Yeshua sitting with a small group of rabbis, discussing the Law, prophecies, and other aspects of their shared religion. In part, Yeshua was asking questions, which the rabbis were delighted to answer, acknowledging the high quality of the questions. They could understand how a young boy from the country, one who displayed a gentle heart, would be troubled to find the lame and blind precluded from entrance to the Temple. Such infirmities are a sign of divine displeasure over their sins; and those impure with un-cleansed sins cannot be allowed to bring pollution into this sacred place. The young man seemed to understand the logic they expressed, yet he also seemed to continue debating the matter within himself. (I could make crutches for them.)

When Miriam and Joseph had spotted Yeshua sitting