The Gospel According to Jesus Christ

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AS IF THE HUMILIATION INFLICTED ON THE HEBREW RACE for more than seventy years was not enough to satisfy the shameless arrogance of the empire, Rome decided, using the division of the former kingdom of Herod as a pretext, to update the previous census. This time, however, the men would not have to register in their places of origin, and thus they were spared the damaging effect on agriculture and commerce and all the other upheavals we witnessed Joseph and his family enduring earlier. The new decree ruled that the censors go from village to village, town to town, and city to city and summon all the men, whatever their status, to the main square or other suitable open-air site, where their names, occupations, and taxable wealth would be entered into the public record under the surveillance of guards. Now, it must be said that such procedures are not viewed with favor in this part of the world, which is nothing new, for Holy Scripture narrates the unfortunate decision of King David when he ordered Joab, the leader of his army, Go through all the tribes of Israel from Dan to Beersheba and carry out a census of the people, and since a royal command was never questioned, Joab silenced his doubts, gathered together his army, and set off to do the king's bidding. Nine months and twenty days later Joab returned to Jerusalem with the results of the census, which had been carefully tabulated and verified. There were eight hundred thousand armed soldiers in Israel and five hundred thousand in Judah. Now, we all know that God does not like anyone usurping His authority, especially when it comes to His chosen people, whom He will never allow to be ruled by any other lord or master, least of all by Rome, who bows to false gods and men, first because false gods do not really exist and secondly because of the sheer vanity of that pagan cult. But let us forget Rome for a moment and return to King David, whose heart sank the moment the leader of his army began reading the report, but it was too late, and he confessed, I have committed a grave sin, but I beg you, Lord, forgive your humble servant's folly. And next morning, a prophet named Gad, who was in a manner of speaking the king's soothsayer and his intermediary with Almighty God, came to David as he was rising and told him, The good Lord wishes to know whether you prefer three years of famine on earth, three months of persecution at the hands of your enemies, or three days of plague throughout the land. David did not inquire how many people would have to die in each case, he reckoned that in three days, even with plague, fewer would die than in three years of war or famine. So he prayed, God willing, let there be plague. And God sent a plague, and seventy thousand people died, not counting the women and children, who had not been registered. The Lord finally agreed to lift the plague in exchange for an altar, but the dead were dead, either God had forgotten them or it was not convenient to have them resurrected, since we can safely assume that innumerable inheritances and divisions of property were already being debated and contested, because there is no reason why God's chosen people should disclaim worldly goods that rightfully belong to them, whether acquired by the sweat of their brow, in litigation, or as the spoils of war. The outcome is what matters.

But before passing judgment on human and divine actions, we must also bear in mind that God, who lost no time in making David pay dearly for his mistake, now appears to be unaware of the humiliation being inflicted by Rome on His chosen children, and, more perplexing still, He seems indifferent to this blatant lack of respect for His name and authority. When such a thing happens, that is to say, when it becomes clear that God is showing no sign of coming soon, man has no choice but to take His place, to leave home and restore order in this poor old world of ours, which belongs to God. The censors, as we said earlier, were strutting around with all the arrogance of those in power, backed by a military escort, in other words the soldiers were there to protect them from insults and assault when people started to rebel in Galilee and Judaea. Testing their strength, some protest, quietly at first, then gradually they become more aggressive and defiant, an artisan bangs on the censor's table and swears they will never get a name out of him, a merchant takes refuge in his tent with his entire family and threatens to smash everything and tear off all his clothes, a farmer sets fire to his harvest and brings a basket of ashes, saying, This is the money Israel will pay to those who offend her. Such troublemakers were arrested immediately, thrown into prison, flogged and humiliated, and since human resistance has its limits, frail creatures that we are, their courage soon failed them, the artisan shamelessly revealed his most intimate secrets, the merchant was prepared to sacrifice several daughters in addition to paying his taxes, the farmer covered himself in ashes and offered himself as a slave. The few who still resisted were put to death, while others, who had long ago learned that the only good invader is a dead one, took up arms and fled into the mountains. The arms in question were stones, slings, sticks, clubs and cudgels, a few bows and arrows, hardly enough to wage a war, and the odd sword or lance captured in brief skirmishes but unlikely to do the rebels much good, accustomed as they were, since David's reign, to the primitive weapons of placid shepherds rather than to those of trained warriors. But whether a man is Jewish or not, he takes more readily to war than to peace, especially if he finds a leader who shares his convictions. The insurrection against the Romans began when Joseph's firstborn was eleven years old, and it was led by a man called Judas, who hailed from Galilee and was therefore known as Judas the Galilean or Judas of Galilee. This simple method of naming people was common at the time, as we can see from names such as Joseph of Arimathaea, Simon of Cyrene or the Cyrenian, Mary Magdalene or Mary from Magdala. And if Joseph's son had lived and prospered, he would have been called Jesus of Nazareth or the Nazarene or perhaps something even simpler. But this is mere conjecture, we must never forget that fate is a casket like no other, open and closed at the same time. We can look inside and see all that has happened, the past transformed into fulfilled destiny, but we have no way of seeing into the future, apart from an occasional presentiment or intuition, as we find in this gospel, which could not have been written were it not for those signs and prodigies forecasting a destiny perhaps greater than life itself. But to return to what we were saying, Judas the Galilean had rebellion in his blood. His father, old Hezekiah, had participated in the popular revolts waged against Herod's presumed heirs after his death and before Rome could acknowledge the division of the kingdom and the authority of the new tetrarchs. This is beyond our understanding, for, while we are all made of the same all-too-human substance, the same flesh, bones, blood, skin and laughter, tears and sweat, some of us become cowards and others heroes, some are aggressive and others passive. The same substance used to make a Joseph also made a Judas, and while the latter passed on to his sons the thirst for battle he had inherited from his own father, giving up a peaceful existence in order to defend God's rights, the carpenter Joseph remained at home with his nine young children and their mother, confined to his workbench in order to eke out a living and provide food for his family. For no one can tell who will triumph tomorrow, some say God, others say nobody, one hypothesis is as good as the other, because to speak of yesterday, today, and tomorrow is simply to give different names to the same illusion.

But the men of the village of Nazareth, most of them youths, who went to join the guerrilla force of Judas the Galilean, all disappeared without warning, without a trace, their families sworn to secrecy, and this silence was so strictly observed that no one would have dreamt of asking, Where's Nathanael, I haven't seen him for days, if Nathanael failed to appear at the synagogue or among the reapers in the fields, there was simply one man missing and the others carried on as if Nathanael had never existed, well, not quite, for some saw him entering the village under cover of darkness and leaving again before dawn. Although the only proof of his arrival and departure was the smile on the face of his wife. A smile can be most revealing, a woman may be standing motionless, staring into space, at the horizon, or simply at the wall in front of her, then suddenly she smiles, a pensive smile, like an image coming to the surface and playing on restless water, one would have to be blind to think that Nathanael's wife spent the night without her husband. But human nature is so perverse that some women who were never without their husband at their side began sighing as they imagined those encounters, and they hovered around Nathanael's wife like bees around a flower heavy with pollen. Mary's situation was different, with nine children to care for and a husband who spent his nights tossing and turning in anguish, often waking up the little ones and scaring them out of their wits. After a time they grew used to it, more or less, but the eldest boy, whose own dreams were disturbed by some mysterious presence, was forever waking up. In the beginning he would ask his mother, What's wrong with Father, and she would brush the question aside, reassuring him, It's only a nightmare. She could not very well tell her son, Your father dreamt he was marching with Herod's soldiers along the road to Bethlehem. Which Herod. The father of the present king. Was that why he was groaning and shouting. Yes, that's right. I can't see how being the soldier of a king who's dead can give one nightmares. Your father was never -one of Herod's soldiers, he's been a carpenter all his life. Then why does he have nightmares. People don't choose their dreams, dreams choose people, not that I've ever heard that said, but it must be so. And what about all that groaning, Mother. It's because your father dreams he's on his way to kill you. Obviously Mary could never have brought herself to say such things, revealing the cause of her husband's nightmare to Jesus, who like Abraham's son Isaac was cast in the role of the victim who escaped, yet is inexorably condemned.

One day, when he was helping his father make a door, Jesus summoned his courage and questioned him. After a long pause and without raising his eyes, Joseph told him, My son, you are aware of your duties and obligations, perform them and you will be worthy in the eyes of God, but examine your conscience and ask yourself if there are not other duties and obligations waiting to be performed. Is this what you dream, Father. No, the fear that I might have neglected some duty, or worse, that is the cause of my dreams. What do you mean by worse. I didn't think, and the dream itself, the dream is the thought that wasn't thought when it should have been, and now it haunts me night after night and I can't forget it. And what should you have thought. Not even you have the right to ask me that question, and I have no answer to give you. They were working in the shade in the yard, for it was summer and the sun was blazing. Jesus' brothers played nearby, except for the youngest, who was indoors being fed at his mother's breast. James had also been helping, but he soon got tired and bored, little wonder, for the year between them made all the difference, Jesus will soon be old enough for more advanced religious study, he has finished his elementary schooling. In addition to his study of the Torah, the written law, he is already being initiated in the oral law, which is much more difficult and complicated. This explains why at such an early age he was able to conduct a serious conversation with his father, using words properly and debating with reflection and logic. Jesus is almost twelve, on reaching manhood he will perhaps resume this interrupted conversation, if Joseph can find the courage to confide in his son and confess his guilt, that courage which failed Abraham when he was confronted by Isaac, but for the moment Joseph is content to acknowledge and praise the power of God. There can be no doubt that God's upright handwriting bears no resemblance to the crooked lines of men. Just think of Abraham, to whom the angel appeared and said at the last minute, Lay not your hand upon the child, and think of Joseph, who failed to seize the opportunity to save the children of Bethlehem when God sent an officer and three loquacious soldiers instead of an angel to warn him. If Jesus continues as well as he has started, one day he will get around to asking why God saved Isaac and did nothing to protect those poor children, who were as innocent as Abraham's son yet were shown no mercy before the throne of the Lord. And then Jesus will be able to say to Joseph, Father, you mustn't take all the blame, and deep down, who knows, he might dare to ask, When, O Lord, will You come before mankind to acknowledge Your own mistakes.

While the carpenter Joseph and his son Jesus debated these important matters in private, the war against the Romans went on. It had been going on for more than two years, and now and then news of casualties reached Nazareth. Ephraim was killed, then Abiezer, then Naphtali, then Eleazar, but no one knew for certain where their bodies lay, between two stones on a mountain, or at the bottom of a ravine, or swept downstream by the current, or beneath the futile shade of a tree. Unable to hold a funeral for those who had died, the villagers of Nazareth eased their conscience by insisting, We neither caused nor witnessed this bloodshed. News also arrived of great victories. The Romans had been driven out of the nearby city of Sepphoris, also from vast regions of Judaea and Galilee where the enemy dared not venture now, and even in Joseph's own village no Roman soldiers had been sighted for more than a year. Who knows, perhaps this is what prompted the carpenter's neighbor, the inquisitive and obliging Ananias, whom we have not mentioned for some time, to turn up in the yard one day and whisper in Joseph's ear, Follow me outside, and no wonder, because these houses are so tiny that it is impossible to have any privacy, everyone is crammed into one room day and night, whatever the circumstances or occasion, so that when the Day of Judgment finally comes, the Lord God should have no difficulty recognizing his own. So the request did not surprise Joseph, not even when Ananias added furtively, Let us go into the desert. Now, the desert is not simply that barren place, that vast expanse of sand or sea of burning dunes we generally picture when we read or hear the word. Desert, as understood here, can also be found in the green land of Galilee, for it means uncultivated fields, where there are no signs of human habitation or labor. Such places cease to be desert when humans arrive on the scene. But since there are only two men walking across this scrubland and Nazareth is still in sight as they head for three great boulders crowning the summit of the hill, there is no suggestion of the place's being populated, and when the men have gone, the desert will be desert again.

Ananias sits on the ground with Joseph at his side. There is the same age difference between them as there has always been, but, while time passes for everyone, the results can vary. Ananias did not look his years when we first met him, but now seems much older, though the years have also left their mark on Joseph. Ananias hesitates, the decisive manner with which he entered the carpenter's house changed once they were on the road, and Joseph has to coax him to speak without appearing to pry. We've come a long way, he remarked, giving Ananias his cue. This isn't something I could have discussed in your house or mine, explained Ananias, but now, in this remote place, they can converse freely without fear of being overheard. You once asked me to look after your house in your absence, Ananias reminded him. Yes, replied Joseph, and I deeply appreciated your help. Then Ananias continued, Now the time has come for me to ask you to look after my house while I'm gone. Are you taking your wife. No, I'm going alone. But surely if Shua is staying behind, there's no need. She'll be staying with relatives who live in a fishing village. Do you mean to tell me you're divorcing your wife. No, if I didn't divorce her when I found that she couldn't give me a son, why should I divorce her now, it's just that I will be away for a while and I'd prefer Shua to be with relatives. Will you be gone long. I don't know, much depends on how long the war lasts. What does the war have to do with your absence, asked Joseph in surprise. I'm going off to look for Judas the Galilean. What do you want from him. To ask him if he'll allow me to join his army. I don't believe it, a peace-loving man like you, Ananias, getting involved in the war against the Romans, have you forgotten what happened to Ephraim and Abiezer. And also to Naphtali and Eleazar. Precisely, so listen to the voice of reason. No, you listen to me, Joseph, and to the voice that comes from my lips, I've now reached the age at which my father died, and he achieved much more in life than this son of his who couldn't even beget children, I'm not as learned as you or likely to become an elder in the synagogue, all I have to look forward to is death, and I'm tied to a woman I don't even love. Then why not divorce her. Divorcing Shua is no problem, the problem is how to divorce myself, and that's impossible. But how much fighting can you do at your age. Don't worry, I'll go into battle as determined as if I were about to get a woman pregnant. I never heard that expression before. Nor I, it came into my head this very minute. Very well, Ananias, you can rely on me to look after your house until you return. Should I not return and news reaches you that I've been killed, promise me you'll send for Shua so that she can claim my possessions. You have my promise. Let's return now that my mind is at peace. At peace, when you've decided to go to war, I really don't understand you. Ah, Joseph, Joseph, for how many centuries will we have to go on studying the Talmud before we begin to understand the simplest things. Why did we have to come all this way. I wanted to speak to you in the presence of witnesses. The only witnesses we need are Almighty God and this sky that covers us wherever we may be. And what about these stones. These stones are deaf and dumb and cannot bear witness. That may be so, but if you and I were to give a false account of our conversation, these stones would accuse us and go on accusing us until they turned to dust and we to nothingness. Shall we go back. Yes, let's go.

As they went, Ananias turned around several times to look at the stones, until finally they disappeared behind a hillock, then Joseph asked him, Does Shua know. Yes, she knows. And what did she have to say. At first not a word, then she told me I should have abandoned her years ago and left her to her fate. Poor Shua. Once she's with relatives, she'll forget me, and if I die in battle, she'll forget me forever, forgetting is all too easy, that is life. They entered the village, and when they arrived at the carpenter's house, which was the first of two houses on one side, Jesus, who was playing in the road with James and Judas, told them his mother was with the neighbor next door. As the two men turned away, the voice of Judas could be heard announcing solemnly, I am Judas the Galilean, whereupon Ananias looked around and said with a smile to Joseph, Take a look, there goes my leader, but before the carpenter had time to reply, the voice of Jesus could be heard saying, Then you don't belong here. Joseph felt a sword pierce his heart, as if those words were addressed to him, as if the game being played by his son was meant to convey another truth. Then he thought of the three boulders and tried, without knowing why, to imagine what life would be like if henceforth he were obliged to speak every word and perform every action in their presence, and suddenly, remembering God, he was stricken with fear. In Ananias's house they found Mary consoling a distressed Shua, who dried her tears the moment the men arrived, not because she had stopped weeping but because women know from bitter experience when to hide their tears. Hence the well-known saying, They're either laughing or weeping, but it simply is not true, because they weep quietly to themselves. But there was nothing quiet about Shua's grief, and when Ananias departed, she sobbed her heart out. One week later Shua's relatives came to fetch her. Mary accompanied her to the edge of the village, where they embraced and said good-bye. Shua was no longer weeping, but her eyes would never be dry again. Nothing can ease her sorrow or extinguish the flame that burns her tears before they surface and roll down her cheeks.