The Gospel According to the Son

21

Yet I was not alone. My disciples accompanied me, and with them came many others. The word had passed through the hills and valleys of Galilee, even into the mountains. I, however, did not feel ready to speak. My disciples were now obliged to comport themselves as soldiers and become my guard. Nonetheless, I could feel the desire of these people to touch me, and I gave way until they were too many and I lost the power to cure. Truth, their fingers so implored my flesh that I had to live with my own bruises when day was done.

I told my disciples to find a small ship and let it wait in a cove of the Sea of Galilee. Once on board I would be near shore but apart, and thereby could preach from the prow, only returning to land long enough to lay hands on a few.

While waiting, I went up onto a mountain. Many followed. I came down by another path to a town near Capernaum and entered a house where I was welcome. But another multitude surrounded this house. There were even two scribes from Jerusalem among them.

Before long I heard that one of these scribes had said to another, "Since he is the prince of devils, Beelzebub is able to cast out other devils." The danger I had been expecting was near. Even as I was earning more and more knowledge of how to cure, so was a plague of ill spirit spreading. The righteous could only see my efforts as the Devil's labor: For how could a modest man like me command miracles? Already many were saying that I was ready to deny the Ten Commandments and the myriad of laws surrounding them. Whereas they, good Pharisees, prayed for a world where all were law-abiding. So I knew that I must speak to the two scribes from Jerusalem. And when I looked into their eyes, I had hope; they appeared to be wise.

I said: "You compare me to Beelzebub. But if I am a demon who is able to destroy other demons, am I not also destroying myself? When Satan can cast out Satan, he has become a house divided. Do we not know that a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand?"

These scribes went away, their faces stern. Severity can also be the expression of those who have no reply.

It was a day of many ills. Two messengers came to this same house from John the Baptist. He had spoken to them while in the prison at Machaerus. Now they were furnished with questions to ask. "Are you the one who is to come?" was John's question. "Or am I to look for another?"

My disciples were distrustful of Johns disciples. They said: "The Baptist is jealous of you."

I would not believe that. If John no longer said that I was the one to follow him, it was because he had heard I was consorting with sinners. In how much distrust must John now live! The walls of a dungeon weigh upon thought; they bend certainty. John might no longer know me. Could he understand that my power to work miracles was a sign that the Lord was not displeased that I sat at table with sinners? Could John not see that I was still his messenger? I said to the two people who had come from John: "The lame walk. Lepers are cleansed. Demons are driven out. Those with palsy no longer tremble. Blessed is any man who shall not be offended in me." And I sent these two messengers away. But among my own people, I defended John: "Among those who are born of women," I told them, "there has not risen a greater man than John the Baptist." Now, my disciples did not understand. They could only hear my words as a diminishment of myself.

Not even with all they had seen were my disciples certain who I might be.

To this same house now came my mother with my brothers, James and John. Standing outside, they called for me. But a multitude was all about and I did not hear them. Then one man cried: "Behold, your mother and your brothers look for you." I still did not reply. I had heard that my mother was arguing with my followers. She had said that I was wrong to perform cures on the Sabbath and so must be full of devils. My brothers said worse. They said that I was not of a proper mind. They had come to take me home. Indeed, I had always known that my brothers were jealous of me. So when the man cried out again, "Behold, your mother and your brothers look for you," I answered, "Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?" And I stared at all in the room as if I had need of every man and woman there. I said, "These are my brothers! Those who are with me. For he who does the will of God is my brother and my mother."

Later, I would hear that my mother wept when my words were repeated to her. How I wished to gather those words back. I owed much to her, even if our ways together had never been smooth. She had lived in so much fear. When I was young, she had made me afraid of Romans, too afraid. And she was lacking in pride when she spoke to wealthy Jews; she felt they were more important than herself. All of this had served to feed my anger.