The Gospel According to the Son

15

I returned to Nazareth and entered the house where I lived with my mother. On greeting me, she was much relieved. For more than forty days I had been away, and if she had supposed at first that I was on a journey with my cousin, she had soon begun to hear fearful stories concerning John. (And all of this had come to pass while I was on the mountain.) It seemed that Herod Antipas, the son of dead King Herod, had long distrusted John the Baptist. Like his father, Antipas suffered from dreams; he worried that the prophet would inspire people to rise against him. Whereupon he put John away in a dungeon in the fortress of Machaerus on the high cliffs over the Dead Sea. So I knew that my time had come. I must leave Nazareth. I must take up a life of preaching and try to emulate what John had done.

Yet my mother thought I should not be a preacher. She did not care to think of me wandering on lonely roads to give blessings to strangers; better, by far, to become a good Essene. She wanted me to join the desert community at Qumran, where the most devout are gathered. But that was not my desire. Men who choose to live at Qumran must first confess all guilt and all sin, give all that they own to the brethren, and live among them for years before they can be accepted as true Essenes of Qumran. And one did not speak in the presence of one's leaders unless invited.

I did not understand how my mother could want such a life for me. It was the Lord to whom I should submit myself for tests, not to this or that High Priest. But then, my mother was not always easy to understand. If she was proud of my origin, she was full of worry for my wellbeing; rare was the day when she did not expect a catastrophe to befall me. Fear lived like a night animal in our small house. One could all but hear the scurrying in the dark.

Moreover, if Mary was modest, she was also vain, and I would suffer by both ends, for her will was graven in stone. Yet she did not see herself as strong, but frail. Worse! She saw me as being like her, and therefore unready to go out into the world. And I, knowing all that I must now attempt, was not pleased that she placed such small confidence in me.

I did not tell her what had happened during my forty days on the mountain, but then she must have known that I had been near at last to my Father. Still, she did not wish to hear any part of that. She had a heart large enough for a queen, but like a queen, she did not enjoy what she could not understand.

Yet she was also a mother. She knew me very well. So she could now surmise that it had not only been my Father who was with me on the mountain but the Other. If the Devil owned the powers of darkness, then I was weak enough, as she would see it, to have been tainted. Therefore I must be guided by a community of the most devout. It can be said: She did not make my way easier. I was unhappy with her forebodings; she had the power to foretell certain events.

In the midst of this quiet but unyielding dispute there came a diversion. A marriage was taking place in Cana, a town not far from Nazareth. The father of the bride, a wealthy man who had once hired Joseph and his carpenters to construct a fine house, now invited my mother, myself, and my brothers, James and John, to this wedding. And it would be the first time that Mary had left her home since Joseph died. Indeed, she remained so doubtful of whether to go or not to go that by the time we arrived, it was late and the ceremony had ended. My mother, most embarrassed, looked about sharply and said, "They are without wine." So many had come from the village to celebrate that all the wine was gone.

Her voice was telling me that when a nuptial feast becomes dry, happiness will soon depart; it is an omen of misery for the new husband and wife. So I thought to try such powers as might now belong to me.

Before us were six large stone jars of water, and on a table was one red grape, no more, and that grape I ate slowly and with much contemplation of the Spirit who resided within. Indeed, I could feel an angel at my side. In that instant, the water in the jars became wine. I knew this. It had been accomplished by no more than the clear taste of one grape and the presence of one angel.

I felt near to the Kingdom of God. For now I knew that this Kingdom was composed of much beauty. My Father was not only the God of wrath but could offer tenderness as gentle as the concern that rests in the touch of one's hand. All the same, I was also full of sorrow. For I had a vision of a great feast that I would never see. Before long, therefore, I chose to leave; James and John could walk home with my mother.

As I left I could hear the uncle of the bride speak to the groom: "Every host sets forth good wine at the beginning, but when all are drunk, then wine which is not as good is presented. Yet you kept your best wine for the end and so your marriage will be blessed."

That was the first of my miracles, and took place in Cana of Galilee. I was not quick, however, to praise myself, since the angel sent by my Father whispered into my thoughts: "Even as a barrel overflowing with honey can soon be emptied, so does the foolish son scatter his store of miracles." Therefore, I did not tell my mother. She was merely pleased that there had been wine after all, and so she was of slightly better heart concerning my departure. In the morning I set out with no more than a staff, a cloak, my sandals, and her tears.