The Gospel According to the Son

27

There came the day when they returned. They were woeful as they spoke of their attempts to cure others. They asked me often: "Why could we not cast out devils? All things should be possible to him who believes."

I told them that even when one prayed for one's faith to be perfect, a portion of oneself remained without faith. "I asked a man once if he could believe. He answered, 'Lord, I believe. Help me in my disbelief.' This," I told them, "is wisdom!"

My disciples were still gloomy. They had failed to cure the sick.

I decided to embark again with them on the Sea of Galilee. Boats could always be found for us by Levi, who knew many ship owners who wished to please him since he counted their taxes. So we were soon able to escape our followers for a few hours. Yet some people saw us departing and followed on foot around the empty shore. When we landed and went up into a mountain, they continued to follow.

I had been weary from loss of sleep when we set out, but now I was moved with compassion and was ready to teach once more. How could I not? I knew every error I had made. My throng were like sheep without a shepherd, and I had given them quick hope that they could perform cures. But they did not love my Father enough. I should have known that. But then, I did not love Him enough, not enough. I had not trusted Him with the same whole faith that I asked my followers to offer. I must put away, therefore, all doubt. I must convince all who listened of my love for Him. And so, full of the loss of John the Baptist, I taught for most of that day on the mountain.

Later, those who became my scribes, and most notably Matthew, in his gospel, would speak of my Sermon on the Mount. They had me saying all manner of things, and some were the opposite of others. Matthew put so many sayings together, indeed, that he might as well have had me not ceasing to speak for a day and a night, and speaking out of two mouths that did not listen to each other. I can only recount what I know: I wished to bring all of them to my knowledge of God.

I was beginning to understand how large was the task.

I could not carry the Lord's message by myself. Too many would oppose me. I needed an army of apostles. If each of my twelve would be able to find his own twelve, and each of these new apostles were to bring to us another twelve, I would have an army. So I knew that I must send my apostles out again, to return with their own disciples.

Yet large armies bring discord. If faith was simple for some, it would soon be a labyrinth for the Son of Man; at each turning I would soon wonder whether I was closer to the light or had drawn nearer to darkness. And it may be that for this reason (my faith still remaining simple to me) I spoke with much conviction on this day and was full of admiration for my Father's works. Indeed, I was now confident that His love was ready to forgive all who would come to Him. So I sought to move them to love of God rather than to adoration of my cures. My words rang out on the mountain.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit," I told them on this day, "for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek; they shall inherit the earth." And saying this, so too did I believe it.

"Blessed are those who thirst after righteousness," I said, "for they shall be filled. And blessed are the merciful; they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart. For they shall see God."

I felt hope in all who listened, and its rising was as visible to me as the gathering of the dawn. So I spoke of

light. I told them: "You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick and then it gives light to all who are in the house."

And if I would bring them to greater love, I knew that I must also use words that they would not wish to hear, and would have trouble believing, even as I had trouble believing. The desire for revenge was not only in the marrow of their souls but in mine. Yet if I would love God in such a way that they also could love Him, then they must believe in Him as I did at this moment. So I said what they could hardly bear to hear:

"If someone," I said, "shall strike you on your right cheek, turn to him the other cheek. And if a man will take your coat, give him your cloak as well." I could feel the desperation with which they sought to understand this, to believe this. "You have heard it said," I told them, "that you shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say: Love your enemy. Bless him who curses you. Do good to those that hate you. Pray for them who persecute you. Then, and only then, can you become the children of your Father. For He makes His sun to rise upon the evil and on the good, and He sends rain on the just and on the unjust. If you only love those who love you, what reward do you have? Be perfect, therefore, even as your Father in Heaven is perfect." And I knew that they, like me, had a great desire to believe this.

For that reason, I sought to explain how His generosity was mighty: "Take no thought for your life, nor for what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor yet for your body, nor for what you shall put on. Is life not more than meat? And the body more than raiment? The fowls of the air do not sow, neither do they reap. Yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Consider the lilies of the field: They toil not, neither do they spin, and yet even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of them. If God so clothed the grass of the field, shall He not clothe you? Therefore, take no thought to go about, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'Where shall we be clothed?' For your heavenly Father knows that you have need of all these things. Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you. Take, then, no thought for the morrow; tomorrow will take thought for itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."

And I said to them: "Let us all pray together," and as I heard their voices repeating my words, I felt as mighty as Leviathan rising from the deep.

Together we prayed:

"Our Father, who art in heaven,

Hallowed be Thy name.

Thy Kingdom come,

Thy will be done

In earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,

And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from evil.

For Thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory forever.

Amen."

And I said "Amen" many times as we descended from the mountain. It was late in the day. My disciples said, "It would be wise to send them away now. They must go back into their villages and buy bread, for they have nothing to eat and here is a desert."

But to send them away was not in my thoughts. These people had walked over sharp stones to join us and they had listened to me. And I could still feel the Lord's hand at my elbow. I said: "Give them to eat."

My disciples said: "You are the one who must provide. Did you not say to us: 'Take no thought of: "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" ' "

I had said it.

"How many loaves have we?" I asked.

They looked. There were five barley loaves and two dried fish. So I told the disciples to seat all our followers in companies upon the ground. And I took those five loaves and divided them exceedingly small, until there were a hundred pieces of bread from each loaf. Then the two fish gave up more than twice two hundred small morsels. And, with five hundred bits of bread and five hundred of fish, I passed these morsels to each of the followers, doing it myself for all five hundred. I would lay one flake of fish and one bit of bread upon each tongue. Yet when each person had tasted these fragments, so do I believe that each morsel became enlarged within his thoughts (even as once in Cana I had been enlarged by eating one grape), and so I knew that few among these hundreds would say that they had not been given sufficient fish and bread. And this was a triumph of the Spirit rather than an enlargement of matter. Which for the Lord is but a small deed, considering that He made the heavens and the earth out of nothing, and could certainly have changed our five loaves into five hundred.