The Gospel According to Jesus Christ

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WHEN JESUS GOES TO FISH WITH THE FISHERMEN, MARY Magdalene waits for him, usually seated on a rock at the water's edge, or on a nearby hill if there is one, from where she can easily follow the route they sail. Fishing is no longer a slow operation, for there have never been so many fish in this lake, it's like putting one's hand in a bucket filled with fish, but not for everyone, because if Jesus happens to go elsewhere, then the bucket reverts to being almost empty, and hands and arms soon tire of casting net after net to find only an occasional fish or two trapped in the mesh. In despair, the entire fishing community on the western side of the Sea of Galilee goes to ask Jesus, to implore Jesus, to demand that Jesus help them, and in some places they even receive him with festivities and floral tributes, as if it were Palm Sunday. But the bread of humanity being what it is, a mixture of envy and malice with a little charity here and there, the yeast of fear fermenting evil while suppressing good, one group of fishermen began quarreling with another, one village with another, they all wanted Jesus, and let the others provide for themselves as best they can. Whenever they started fighting, Jesus withdrew to the desert, returning only when the troublemakers repented and asked forgiveness for their rough behavior while protesting their love and devotion. But what we will never know is why the fishermen on the eastern side never sent delegates to discuss the drafting of a fair treaty that would benefit all parties, not including the large number of Gentiles of different races and persuasions who are to be found in this region. The fishermen on the other bank could also have sent a fleet with nets and pikes, under cover of darkness, to kidnap Jesus, reducing those on the western side to a meager existence just when they had grown accustomed to plenty.

But let us go back to the day James and Joseph came to ask Jesus to give up this existence and return home despite his newfound prosperity since he took up fishing. By now the two brothers, James in a rage, Joseph in tears, are quickly making their way back to Nazareth, where their mother continues to wonder whether the two sons who left will bring a third, but she is doubtful. Their homeward route from the spot on the shore where they met Jesus obliged them to pass through Magdala. James scarcely knew the town and Joseph not at all, the place didn't appear to have anything of interest to detain them there, so after a brief rest the brothers resumed their journey. As they passed the last of the houses before the wilderness began, they saw on their left the bare walls of a house that had been gutted by fire. The gate to the yard had been forced open but only partially destroyed, and it looked as if the fire had started inside. The passerby hopes that some treasure may be left among the ashes, and if there is no danger of a beam falling on his head, he cannot resist exploring further. Treading carefully, he pokes at the debris with one foot, looking for something shiny, a gold coin, an indestructible diamond, an emerald necklace. James and Joseph entered only out of curiosity, they are not so naive as to imagine that rapacious neighbors have not been here already to loot the place, although the house is so small that any prized possessions almost certainly have been removed by the owners. The roof of the oven had caved in, the brick floor was broken, and there were loose tiles underfoot. There's nothing here, said James, let's go, but Joseph asked, What's that. It was a bedstead, but the legs had been burned and the whole frame badly damaged, a phantom throne with bits of charred drapery hanging in tatters. It's a bed, said James, people like great lords and wealthy merchants actually sleep on such things. This doesn't strike me as a rich person's house, argued Joseph. Appearances can be deceptive, James wisely reminded him. As they left, Joseph noticed a cane hanging outside the gate, the sort used for gathering figs, no doubt it had originally been much longer. What is this doing here, he asked, and without waiting for a reply, either from himself or from his brother, he removed the useless cane and took it with him, a souvenir of a fire, of a house destroyed, of people unknown. No one had seen them enter, no one saw them leave, they are only two brothers going home in soiled tunics and with bad news, one brother frustrated by the memory of Mary Magdalene, the other thinking of the fun he will have playing with the broken cane.

Mary Magdalene, sitting on a rock and waiting for Jesus to return from fishing, thinks about Mary of Nazareth. Until today she simply thought of her as Jesus' mother, now she knows, after questioning him, that his mother is also named Mary, a coincidence of no great consequence when one considers the vast number of Marys on this earth and the many more to come if the fashion persists, but we are inclined to believe that there is nevertheless a sense of solidarity between those who share the same name, Joseph for example may think of himself no longer as the son of Joseph but more as his brother, and this could be God's problem, no one else bears His name. These reflections may seem farfetched for someone like Mary Magdalene, but we are confident that she is perfectly capable of such ideas once her thoughts about the man she loves lead her to think of his mother. Mary Magdalene has never had a son of her own to love, but at long last she has learned what it means to love a man, having practiced the thousand and one deceptions of false love. She loves Jesus as a woman loves a man, but also wants to love him as a mother loves a son, perhaps because she is not much younger than his real mother, who sent a message asking her son to come home, only to be refused. Mary Magdalene wonders how Mary of Nazareth will feel when she receives his answer, but that is not the same as imagining how she herself would suffer were she to lose him, for she would be losing her man rather than her son. O Lord, punish me with both sorrows if necessary, murmured Mary Magdalene as she sat waiting for Jesus to return. And as the boat drew nearer and was pulled ashore, as the baskets laden with glistening fish were hauled in, as Jesus, his feet in the water, helped the fishermen and laughed like a child at play, Mary Magdalene saw herself in the role of Mary of Nazareth and, getting up, she went down to the water's edge and waded in to greet Jesus. Kissing him on the shoulder, she whispered, My son. No one heard Jesus say, Mother, for as we know, words that come from the heart are never spoken, they get caught in the throat and can only be read in one's eyes. Mary and Jesus were rewarded with a basket of fish, and as usual they retired to the house where they would spend the night, for they had no home of their own, going from boat to boat and from mat to mat. In the beginning Jesus often said to Mary, This is no life for you, let's find a house of our own where I can join you whenever possible, but Mary insisted, I don't want to wait behind, I prefer to be with you. One day he asked her if she had any relatives who might offer her shelter, and she told him that her brother Lazarus and sister Martha lived in the village of Bethany in Judaea, although she herself left home when she turned to prostitution, and to spare them embarrassment she moved farther and farther away, until she ended up in Magdala. So your name should really be Mary of Bethany if that's where you were born, said Jesus. Yes, I was born in Bethany, but you found me in Magdala, so I think of myself as being from Magdala. People don't refer to me as Jesus of Bethlehem although I was born there, and I don't think of myself as being from Nazareth, because people there don't want me and I certainly don't want them, perhaps I should say like you, I'm from Magdala, and for the same reason. Don't forget we destroyed our house. But not the memory, replied Jesus. No more was said about Mary's returning to Bethany, this stretch of shore is their whole world, and wherever Jesus may go, she will go with him.

How true, the saying which reminds us that there is so much sorrow in this world, misfortunes grow like weeds beneath our feet. Such a saying could only have been invented by mortals, accustomed as they are to life's ups and downs, obstacles, setbacks, and constant struggle. The only people likely to question it are those who sail the seas, for they know that even greater woe lies beneath their feet, indeed, unfathomable chasms. The misfortunes of seafarers, the winds and gales sent from heaven, cause waves to swell, storms to break, sails to rip, and fragile vessels to founder. And these fishermen and sailors truly perish between heaven and earth, a heaven hands cannot reach, an earth feet never touch. The Sea of Galilee is nearly always tranquil and smooth, like any lake, until the watery furies are unleashed, and then it is every man for himself, although sadly some drown. But let us return to Jesus of Nazareth and his recent worries, which only goes to show that the human heart is never content, and that doing one's duty does not bring peace of mind, though those who are easily satisfied would have us believe otherwise. One could say that thanks to the endless comings and goings of Jesus up and down the river Jordan, there is no longer any hardship, not even an occasional shortage, on the western shore, and not only fishermen have benefited, because the abundance offish has brought down prices and provided people with more to eat. It is true that some attempts were made to keep prices high by the well-known corporate method of throwing part of the catch back into the sea, but Jesus threatened to go elsewhere if those responsible for this abuse did not apologize and change their ways. So everyone is happy, except Jesus. He is tired of the constant back and forth, the embarking and disembarking, the same routine day in and day out, and since the power of making fish appear clearly comes from the Lord, why should he be condemned to this monotony until the Lord is ready to summon him as promised. Jesus does not doubt that the Lord is with him, for the fish never fail to come when he calls them, which has led him to speculate whether the Lord might not be willing to concede him other powers, on the clear understanding that he put them to good use. For as we have seen, Jesus, who has achieved so much already with nothing but intuition to guide him, should have no difficulty meeting that condition. There was one way to find out, as easy as saying, Oh, and that was to try. If it worked, God approved, and if it didn't, God was showing His displeasure. The first problem was that of choice. Unable to consult the Lord directly, Jesus would have to risk choosing a power, one that would provoke the least objection, it could not be too obvious, yet not so subtle as to go unnoticed by those who would benefit, or by the world, for that would diminish the glory of God, which must be considered above all things. But Jesus could not make up his mind, he was afraid God might ridicule him, humiliate him as He had done in the desert, even now he shuddered at the thought of the embarrassment he would have suffered if the nets had come back empty when he first suggested, Cast your nets on this side. These matters worried him so much that one night he dreamed someone was whispering in his ear, Don't be afraid, remember God needs you, but when he woke up, he could not help wondering who had spoken, an angel, one of the many who go around delivering messages from the Lord, or was it a demon, one of the many who do Satan's bidding. Mary Magdalene was fast asleep beside him, so it could not have been her.

This was how things stood when Jesus set out one day, which seemed no different from any other, to perform the usual miracle. The clouds were low in the sky and there were signs of rain, but it takes more than rain to keep fishermen at home, they are used to every kind of weather. On this particular day the boat belonged to Simon and his brother Andrew, who had witnessed the first miracle, and it was accompanied by the boat of James and John, the sons of Zebedee, because one can never tell if a miracle will always have the same effect, a boat nearby may get some of the fish gathering there. The strong wind carries them swiftly out, and after lowering the sails the fishermen in both boats prepare their nets and wait for Jesus to tell them where they should cast them. At this point the situation starts getting difficult, a storm suddenly comes without warning from the overcast sky, it grows so fierce that the waves swell and rise, driven by the frenzied gale, and those two fragile nutshells are buffeted wildly as the elements unleash their wrath. The plight of the defenseless fishermen brought shouts and lamentations from the people watching on the shore. Wives, mothers, sisters, children, and the occasional good-hearted mother-in-law were gathered there, making such a din with their weeping and wailing that it must have been heard in heaven, Oh, my poor husband, Oh, my beloved son, Oh, my dear brother, Oh, my poor son-in-law, A curse on you, miserable sea, Holy Mother of the Afflicted, help us, Protectress of the Voyager, come to our aid, but all the children could do was to weep. Mary Magdalene was there too, murmuring, Jesus, Jesus, but she did not pray for him, she knew the Lord was saving him for another occasion, not likely to let him perish in a mere storm at sea, where the only consequence was a few drowned men. She kept on repeating, Jesus, Jesus, as if the very sound of his name could rescue the fishermen, who certainly appeared close to meeting their fate. In the midst of the storm, Jesus watched the despair and destruction all around him, the waves sweeping over the boats and flooding them, the masts breaking, the sails flying through the air, the rain becoming a flood capable of sinking one of the emperor's own ships. Jesus watched and thought, It is not right that these men should die while I live, the Lord will rebuke me, saying, You could have saved those who were with you, yet you made no attempt to save them, as if your father's crime were not enough. To be reminded of that was so painful, Jesus jumped to his feet, and standing as firmly as if on solid ground, he commanded the wind, Be quiet, and told the sea, Be calm, and no sooner had he spoken than the sea and the wind abated, the clouds in the sky dispersed, and the sun appeared in all its glory, ever a wondrous sight in the eyes of us poor mortals. Impossible to describe the rejoicing in the boats, the kissing and embracing, the tears of joy ashore, those on the far bank were puzzled that the storm died down so quickly, those here, as if restored to life, could think of nothing but their lucky escape, and if some spontaneously exclaimed, Miracle, miracle, they seemed unaware that someone had to be responsible for it. A sudden silence fell over the water, the other boats surrounded that of Simon and Andrew, and all the fishermen looked at Jesus, too astonished to speak, for above the roar of the storm they had heard him call out, Be quiet, Be calm, and there he was, Jesus, the man who could summon fish from the sea, and now he had forbidden the sea to deliver men to the fish. Eyes lowered, Jesus sat on the oarsman's bench, his face showing both triumph and disaster, as if on reaching a mountain peak he was now beginning the sad and inevitable descent. Forming a circle, the men waited for him to speak. It was not enough to have tamed the wind and pacified the water, he had to explain how a simple Galilean, an obscure carpenter's son, could have achieved such a miracle, when God himself had abandoned them to death's cold embrace. Jesus rose to his feet and told them, What you have just witnessed was not my doing, the voice that quelled the storm was not mine but that of the Lord speaking through me, as through the prophets, I am only the mouth of the Lord. Simon, who was in the boat with him, said, Just as the Lord sent the storm, He could also have sent it away, but it was your word that saved our lives. Believe me, it was God's doing, not mine. Whereupon John, the younger son of Zebedee, spoke, proving that he was not at all simpleminded, It may have been God's doing, for in Him resides all power, but He acted through you, so clearly it is God's will that we should know you. But you already know me. Only that you came from who knows where and mysteriously filled our boats with fish. I am Jesus of Nazareth, the son of a carpenter who was crucified by the Romans, for a time I was a shepherd for a flock of sheep and goats, and now here I am with you, and perhaps I will go on being a fisherman until the hour of my death. Andrew, the brother of Simon, said, We will stay with you, because any man with your power is condemned to loneliness heavier than any millstone around one's neck. Jesus said, Stay with me if that is what your heart asks, and if the Lord, as John says, wishes that you should know me, but tell no one what has passed here, for the time has not yet come for Him to reveal my fate. Then James, the older son of Zebedee, who like his brother was no simpleton, said, Don't imagine people won't talk, just look at the crowd there on the shore, see how they're waiting to praise you, some so impatient that they're already pushing out their boats to come and join us, and even if we succeed in reining their enthusiasm and persuading them to keep our secret, how can you be sure that God will not continue to manifest Himself through you, however much you dislike the idea. The living image of sorrow, Jesus hung his head and said, We are all in the hands of the Lord. You more than the rest of us, replied Simon, for He has chosen you, but we shall follow you. To the end, said John. Until you have no further need of us, said Andrew. For as long as possible, said James. The boats were fast approaching, with much waving of arms and chanting of prayers and praise and thanks to the Lord. Resigned, Jesus told the others, Let's go, the wine is poured and we must drink it. He did not seek out Mary Magdalene, he knew she was waiting for him as always, it would take more than a miracle to stop her vigil, and the thought of her waiting for him filled his heart with gratitude and peace. Disembarking, he fell into her arms, and showed no surprise when she whispered in his ear, her cheek pressed against his wet beard, You will lose the war but win every battle. Arm in arm and accompanied by friends, they greeted the cheering spectators, who hailed Jesus as if he were a victorious general. Arm in arm, Jesus and Mary climbed the steep path to Capernaum, the village that overlooked the lake, where Simon and Andrew lived and where they had been offered hospitality.

James was right when he warned Jesus that the episode of the storm would be on everyone's lips. Within a few days people for miles around were discussing nothing else. Although, strange to relate, no one seems to have been aware of the storm in Tiberias, even though the lake there is not that wide, as we already mentioned, and from a height one can see from shore to shore on a clear day. When someone arrived with the news that a stranger accompanying the fishermen of Capernaum had quelled the storm just by speaking to it, he was asked to his amazement, What storm. But there was no lack of witnesses to testify that there had indeed been a storm, and there were those who had been involved directly or indirectly, among them some muleteers from Safed and Cana who chanced to be there in the course of their work. It was they who spread the news elsewhere, each man embroidering the story according to his fancy, but the news did not reach everyone, and we know what happens to such tales, they lose credibility after a while, by the time the news reached Nazareth, the tellers were no longer sure if there had been a genuine miracle or simply the lucky coincidence of a word's being tossed to the wind and a gale's growing tired of blowing. A mother's heart, however, is never deceived, and Mary had only to hear the dying echo of this prodigy that people were already questioning to know that her absent son was responsible. She grieved that the loss of her maternal authority had led her to conceal from Jesus the angel's revelation, confident that a message couched in a few words would bring home the son who had left with his own heart grieving. And now that Lisa was married and living in Cana, Mary no longer had anyone in whom to confide her bitterness. She could not turn to James, who had come back in a rage after the meeting with his brother. He spared Mary no details, and gave a withering account of the woman with Jesus, She's old enough to be his mother, and from the look of her there's nothing she doesn't know about life, to put it mildly. Not that James himself knows that much about life, here in this remote village. So Mary unburdened herself to Joseph, the son who in name and appearance reminded her most of her husband, but he gave her little comfort, Mother, we are paying for our mistake, after seeing Jesus, I fear he'll never come home, people say he calmed a storm, and the fishermen themselves told us that he fills their boats with fish as if by magic. Then the angel was right. What angel, asked Joseph, and Mary told him everything that had happened, from the beggar who put glowing earth into the bowl to the appearance of the angel in her dream. They did not hold this conversation inside, for with such a large family it is almost impossible to have any privacy. When these people wish to disclose secrets, they go into the desert, where one might even meet God. Joseph and Mary were still deep in conversation when Joseph, looking over his mother's shoulder, saw a flock of sheep and goats with their shepherd pass over the distant hills. The flock did not appear to be very big or the shepherd very tall, so he watched without saying a word. And when his mother sighed, I will never see Jesus again, he replied pensively, Who knows.

Joseph was right. About a year later, Lisa sent a message to their mother, inviting her on behalf of her in-laws to come to Cana for the wedding of her husband's younger sister, and Mary was asked to bring as many of the children as she wished, they would all be most welcome. Despite this generous invitation Mary was reluctant to be a burden, for there is nothing more tiresome than a widow with a horde of children, so she decided to take her current favorite, Joseph, and Lydia, who like all other girls her age adored parties and celebrations. Cana is not far from Nazareth, little more than an hour away if calculated by our time, and with gentle autumn already here, this promised to be an agreeable outing, even without a wedding to look forward to. They left at sunrise, in order to arrive in Cana in time for Mary to assist in the final preparations for the festivities, for such labor is in direct proportion to the pleasure of the guests. Lisa ran out to meet her mother, brother, and sister, embracing them affectionately. She asked about their health, they asked if she was well and happy, but there was much work to be done, so they moved on quickly. Lisa and Mary went to the bridegroom's house, where the feast was traditionally held, to share the cooking with the other women of the family, and Joseph and Lydia remained in the yard with the children, the boys playing with the boys, the girls dancing with the girls, until it was time for the ceremony to begin. Then off they ran, boys and girls together, behind the men accompanying the bridegroom, friends carrying the customary torches although it was a bright, sunny morning, which shows that a little extra light, even from a torch, is not to be despised. Smiling neighbors came out to greet them, but saved their blessings for when the procession would return bringing the bride. Joseph and Lydia missed the rest of this, but then they have already seen a wedding in their own family, the bridegroom knocking at the door and asking to see the bride, the bride appearing surrounded by her friends, who carry little oil lamps, which are more suited to women than great flaming torches, and then the bridegroom lifts the bride's veil and shouts with joy on finding such a treasure there, as if he has not seen her thousands of times already during the last twelve months of courtship, and not gone to bed with her as often as he pleased. Joseph and Lydia missed all this, because Joseph, who happened to look down the street, saw two men and a woman in the distance. Recognizing Jesus and the woman with him, he felt a strange sensation for the second time, and called to his sister, Look, it's Jesus, and they ran to meet him, but then Joseph stopped, remembering his mother and the coldness with which his brother had received them by the lake, not so much James and him, it is true, as the message they had delivered. So Joseph, thinking to himself that he would eventually have to explain his behavior to Jesus, turned back. Before disappearing around the corner, he took another look and felt envy when he saw his brother gather Lydia into his arms like a feather in flight and smother her with kisses, while the woman and the other man looked on approvingly. Eyes filled with tears of frustration, Joseph ran, came to the house, crossed the yard, jumping to avoid the linen cloths and food set out on the ground and low tables, and called, Mother, Mother. Our own distinctive voices are our saving grace, otherwise mothers everywhere would be looking up only to see someone else's son. One look, and Mary understood when Joseph said to her, Jesus is coming this way. The color drained from her face, then she blushed, smiled, turned serious and pale once more, and these conflicting emotions brought her hand to her breast, as if her heart were no longer beating and she had backed into a wall. Who is with him, she asked, for she was certain someone was with him. A man and a woman, and Lydia, who's still with them, replied Joseph. Is that the woman you saw before. Yes, Mother, but I don't know the man. Lisa joined them, curious, unaware that there was something amiss, What's the matter, Mother. Your brother has arrived for the wedding. You mean Jesus is here in Cana. Yes, Joseph has just seen him. Lisa could not keep from smiling as she murmured to herself, My brother, and that quiet smile of hers betrayed the deepest satisfaction. Let's go and meet him, she said. You go, I'll stay here, her mother answered defensively, and turning to Joseph, she told him, Go with your sister. But Joseph felt resentful that Lydia had been the first to be embraced by Jesus, and Lisa did not have the courage to go on her own, so there they stood, like three criminals awaiting sentence and unsure of the judge's mercy, if the words judge and mercy mean anything here.

Jesus appeared in the doorway, carrying Lydia in his arms, and Mary Magdalene followed behind, but the first to enter was Andrew, the other man in the group and related to the bridegroom, as soon became apparent when he said to those who came smiling to welcome him, No, Simon couldn't come. And while many present were happily absorbed in this family reunion, others eyed one another over a chasm, asking themselves who would be first to set foot on that fragile, narrow bridge, which despite everything still joined the one side to the other. We shall not say, as a poet once said, that children are the greatest joy in this world, but it is thanks to them that adults sometimes succeed in taking difficult steps without losing face, even if they discover afterward that they have not gone very far. Lydia slipped from Jesus' arms and ran to her mother, and as in a puppet show one move led to another move, and another, Jesus went up to his mother and brother, greeted them in the sober, matter-of-fact tone of one who has seen them every day, then moved on, leaving them dumbfounded. Mary Magdalene followed him, and as she passed Mary of Nazareth, the two women, one upright, the other fallen, glanced at each other, not with hostility or contempt but with mutual recognition, which only those familiar with the labyrinthine ways of the feminine heart can understand. The procession was drawing near, shouts and applause could be heard, the tremulous vibration of tambourines, the scattered notes of gentle harps, the rhythm of dancing, the shrill sound of voices as everyone tried to speak at once. Then the guests poured into the yard, the bride and groom were almost swept in amid cheering and clapping as they went before parents and parents-in-law to receive their blessings. Mary was also there, waiting to give her blessing, just as she had blessed her daughter Lisa, then as now without her husband or eldest son at her side to take his rightful place as head of the family. As they sat down to eat, Jesus was offered a special seat, Andrew having quietly informed his relatives that this was the man who filled empty nets with fish and calmed storms, but Jesus refused the honor, choosing to sit with the guests farthest away from the bridal party. Mary Magdalene served Jesus, and no one questioned her presence there. Lisa too went to him several times, to make sure he was all right, and Jesus treated both women in exactly the same way. Watching this from afar, his mother's eyes met those of Mary Magdalene. Mary beckoned her to a quiet corner of the yard and without further ado told her, Take care of my son, for an angel warned me that great tribulations await him, and I can do nothing for him. You may count on me to protect and defend him with my life if necessary. What is your name. I'm known as Mary Magdalene, and I lived as a prostitute until I met your son. Mary said nothing but began to see things more clearly, certain details came back to her, the coins, the guarded statements made by Jesus when she asked where the money came from, James's indignant account of his meeting with Jesus, his remarks about the woman who was with his brother. Now she knew everything, and turning to Mary Magdalene, said, You will always have my blessing and gratitude for all the good you have done my son Jesus. Mary Magdalene leaned over and kissed Mary's shoulder as a mark of respect, but Mary threw her arms around her and held her tight, and there they remained for some moments, embracing each other in silence before returning to the kitchen, where there was work waiting to be done.

The festivities continued, one dish after another was brought in from the kitchen, wine flowed from the pitchers, guests began singing and dancing, when suddenly the steward came and whispered in the ear of the parents of the bride and groom, The wine is running out. They could not have been more dismayed had they been told the roof was falling in, What will we do now, how can we face our guests and tell them there's no more wine, by tomorrow everyone in Cana will know of our shame. My poor daughter, groaned the bride's mother, people will mock her, saying that even the wine ran dry on her wedding day, what have we done to deserve this, and what a bad start to married life. At the tables the guests were draining their goblets, many looking around for someone to serve them more wine, when Mary, who has now entrusted her maternal duties to another woman, decided to put Jesus' miraculous powers to the test before withdrawing into the silence of her own home, ready to depart this world, her mission on earth completed. She looked around for Mary Magdalene, saw her slowly nod her assent, so wasting no time, she went up to Jesus and said, There is no wine. Jesus turned to face his mother, looked at her as if she had spoken from a distance, and asked, Woman, what have I to do with you, shattering words that shocked and amazed those who overheard them, for no son treats in this manner the mother who brought him into the world. In time these words will be rephrased and interpreted in different ways to make them sound less brutal, some have even tried to change their meaning completely, insisting that what Jesus really said was, Why bother me with this, or, What has this to do with me, or, Who asked you to interfere, or, Why should we get involved, woman, or, Why can't you leave this to me, or, Tell me what you want and I'll see what can be done, or even, You can rely on me to do my best to please you. Mary did not flinch, she withstood Jesus' look of disdain and ended her challenge by saying to the servants, which put her son in an awkward position, Whatever he says, do it. As his mother went off, Jesus watched without saying a word or trying to stop her, aware that the Lord had used her, just as He had used the storm and the plight of the fishermen. Jesus raised his goblet, which still held some wine, and pointing to six stone jars of water used for purification, told the servants, Fill these with water, whereupon they filled them to the brim, and each jar held two to three measures. Bring them here, he told them, and they obeyed. Then into each jar Jesus poured a few drops of the wine in his goblet, and ordered the servants, Take them to the steward. Without knowing where the jars came from, the steward sampled the water, which the small quantity of wine had barely colored, and summoned the groom and told him, Every man serves good wine at the beginning, but when the guests have drunk their fill, serves that which is poorer, yet you have kept the best wine until now. The bridegroom, who had never before seen wine served in such jars and who knew, moreover, that the wine had run out, tasted it for himself and confirmed that it was wine by commenting, with an expression of false modesty, on the excellent quality of this vintage. Had it not been for the servants, who spread the news next day, this would have been a buried miracle, for the steward, ignorant of the transmutation, would have remained ignorant, while the groom would have been only too happy to take the credit, and no one expected Jesus to go around saying, I worked such and such a miracle, and Mary Magdalene, who was involved in the plan from the first, was unlikely to start boasting, He worked a miracle, and his mother even less so, because this was something between Mary and her son, the rest of it was a bonus in every sense of the word, as any guest who had his goblet refilled will testify.

Mary of Nazareth and her son conversed no more. Without saying good-bye to anyone, Jesus and Mary Magdalene left that same afternoon and set off for Tiberias. Joseph and Lydia, keeping out of sight, followed them to the outskirts of the village, where they stood watching until the couple disappeared around the bend in the road.