The Gospel According to the Son Read online

  When I recovered, I had lost all memory of what Joseph had told me and was again like others, and even a young man, for now I was thirteen. I began my labors as an apprentice in Joseph's shop and spent seven years as a simple apprentice and seven again as a full apprentice before I became a young master.

  The first seven years were spent in learning how to make mud-bricks for walls and put up framing for roofs and doors and windows. And I also acquired the skill to build beds and tables, stools and cabinets, boxes of all sizes, and plows and yokes for oxen. In my second apprenticeship I worked, however, in Sepphoris, the capital of Galilee, an hour on foot from Nazareth. There I learned more of my craft by working in fine houses, and Joseph taught us much, for he knew many arts.

  Here too lived Herod Antipas, the son of Herod, and this Herod Antipas had become king of Galilee, Idumea, and Judea. When I would watch him pass in procession, I did not know why my blood raced like a steed and I was ready to bolt. My heart was speaking to me even if my mind was not; I had no sense of why I should feel such fear at the sight of King Herod Antipas taking his royal passage through the avenues of Sepphoris. All I knew was that I seemed to have no greater wish afterward than to propitiate all bad feelings (and good ones) by working with care. My life was devoted to the practice of carpentry.

  8

  Joseph used to say: "Where one plank is joined to another by a man who cares for the subtlety of the joint, the first piece will cleave to the second as in a marriage that is blessed. But boards joined by nails fall apart when the nail rusts; so, too, is marriage corroded by adultery." I do not know if it was for such a reason, but none of us were given iron implements until after we had served our first seven years with tools of bronze. Joseph would often speak of the trials of carpenters from ancient times and other lands: He would tell how the Egyptians fashioned small chests of much delicacy out of no better wood than acacia, sycamore, or tamarisk. Such grains were fibrous and often knotty, and each surface had to be finished with paint and gold leaf. Yet this work of the Egyptians, although limited by their bronze tools, had proved more beautiful than our own, and Joseph even owned a small Egyptian chest whose dovetailed corners were a wonder to him.

  When we began to use iron tools, it was with caution, even fear. We all knew the visions of Daniel and how the teeth of the fourth beast are iron and terrible in their strength.

  All the same, I learned. After a time, I could make good use of iron, and was able to work my tools upon woods from many lands: maple, beech, oak, yew, fir, lime, and cedar. Oak we would select as framing for a door, and maple, which was supple, for beds, keeping cedar, which was sweet-smelling, for chests. Wild olive, being very hard, was for tool handles.

  I had friends in other workshops who could plate metal objects in gold and silver; some of us even spoke of traveling from Sepphoris to Rome so we might apprentice our skills to great masters. But this was no more than talk; we never failed to observe our daily acts of purity. And we knew that Rome was full of license. It was said that the emperor and empress indulged in lewd acts of which you would not wish to speak for fear that a vile sore might visit your tongue.

  So my trade became my pride, and I knew respect for the tools in my box. A rasp, a plane, a hammer, an auger, a gimlet, an adze, a cubit rule, a saw, and three chisels for paring, as well as a gougeùall were mine. And my knowledge of how to treat wood became another tool.

  When we used fir for flooring, we offered prayers that it not burn. For fire seemed attracted to fir. And other prayers were said over winter oak, which was liable to decay. Cypress was blessed; it resisted the worm.

  Joseph also taught many ways to put up walls of stone for large buildings, and told us of a substance called pozzolana, an earth that came from the volcanoes south of Rome; this pozzolana, mixed with lime, became a cement. Such knowledge led me to think of the wisdom of the Lord, who knew the earth so well that heavy soil thrown far from its home by a volcano could find a new nature for itself and hold loose stones together. Often would I ponder on the substances of His Kingdom that we worked upon with our hands.

  9

  Living with such skills, I was at peace. But rare is the calm that is long free of disturbance. Even as Joseph was in his last days I began to dream of the Great Temple in Jerusalem, and I wondered if it was too late for me to learn how to cast in gold and silver. Thoughts came to me that I would yet work upon the Holy Altar, but I distrusted them, for they left me full of a greed that was stifling to the throat; I had to wonder whether it was wise for a modest man to work with gold. All the same, I was ready. And for what, I did not know. I felt as if I were a man enclosing another man within. Joseph died, and I mourned him. Soon I was distraught. His great secret came back to me. If I knew again that the Lord was my Father, I hardly knew in what manner, He was still far from me. Whenever I thought that He would soon appear, He did not. I was in need of new wisdom.

  It was then I decided to make a pilgrimage to that prophet and holy man who was John the Baptist, and indeed, I could even say that I knew him before I saw him, since he was my cousin. I had heard my mother speak often and well of John, even if others did not. He was held in ill repute among the Pharisees in our synagogue. These Pharisees of Nazareth were, in the main, devout, although never equal in piety to us; being merchants, they grew fat, but then they had many appetites, and not all were clean. No matterùthey spoke of John as if he were a wild creature. All the same, I felt close to my cousin. I did not know him, yet he was kin to me. Much was alike in the way we were conceived.

  His father, Zacharias, had been an Essene priest; his mother was the same Elizabeth whom my mother had visited when pregnant with me, and Elizabeth was most devout and was as thin as a tall blade of grass. So, too, was Zacharias; they believed that the body must be kept as a temple. Only a pure body could offer pure prayers in the struggle against the powers of evil.

  Therefore, they remained childless. And were happy. But there came a time when Elizabeth began to mourn that she was barren. One day she even prayed for a child. And her prayer was heard. That morning, as Zacharias stood alone at the altar performing a priests office, an angel came to him. (Indeed, this angel was the same Gabriel who would in six months speak to my mother.)

  Gabriel said: "Zacharias, do not tremble. I bring good news. Elizabeth shall bear a son."

  Now, Zacharias was not at ease. No angel had ever appeared to him before. So he said: "I am an old man, and my wife is close to me in age. Who can you be?" Whereupon the angel grew angry. "Since you do not believe me," he said, "you will not speak until the day that Elizabeth gives birth." And when Zacharias came out of the synagogue, he was dumb. Nothing could be heard but the straining of his throat.

  He returned to his house and was silent. Yet soon enough he would marvel. For on this same day that he lost his speech, he was able to rise and give issue to Elizabeth. And she conceived. Soon, she was so afraid she might lose what had been given her that she remained in bed. And the unborn child did not stir.

  In the sixth month of this pregnancy, Gabriel visited my mother. Afterward, even as Joseph was wondering how to serve as her guardian, Mary went into the high hills to visit her cousin.

  And in the moment that Elizabeth saw my mother at the door, so did her babe leap in her womb. Overjoyed, she spoke out: "Blessed art thou, Mary. All generations to come shall call you blessed."

  Mary felt honored by these words. Elizabeth's ancestry (on the side not related to my mother) was said to go back as far as Aaron, the brother of Moses. Elizabeth's blessing stayed in my mother's ear, and her pride became as great as her humility. Few could contradict her will. My mother would say: "He that is mighty has done to me great things." It soon became her belief that all she said could only be the truth. She would speak often and fondly of John the Baptist. "Only when Elizabeth saw me," she liked to say, "was John able to quicken in the womb."

  And on the day my cousin was born the tongue of Zacharias grew loose, and he spoke, and could bl
ess his son.

  John grew up. He was lean, more lean even than Zacharias or Elizabeth, and he lived alone in the desert. He preached near a ford in the River Jordan, and pilgrims came to him in great fear of their sins. He preached with such force of word and spirit that the High Priest of the Great Temple sent Levites out from Jerusalem, and they asked: "Who art thou? Art thou the Christ?"Christ being the word for Messiah in Greek, a language that many of the elevated in Jerusalem liked to use.

  But John said, "I baptize with water, no more. I am not the Messiah." These Pharisees were dissatisfied. They said: "You perform baptisms yet you are not Christ. Who are you, then?"

  "I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness," John replied. "But there is one coming after me whom you do not know. He is chosen above me by the Lord, and I am not worthy to loosen the straps of his sandals." And John said it on the day before I went to visit him, although I had no idea that he spoke of such things. I had thought to go as one more pilgrim.

  10

  People said, and it was true when I saw him, that the Baptist wore but one small wrapping of camel's hide to conceal his loins. He was so naked to the sun that he looked darker than any of his visitors, a thin man with a thin beard.

  I had also heard how he believed that meat and wine inspire demons to live in one's body; therefore he ate nothing but wild honey and locusts, the poorest food of the poor. Yet it was said that these locusts could devour all the disbelief in the hearts of those who came to John. And the wild honey gave warmth to his voice when he spoke in the words of Isaiah: " 'The crooked shall be made straight and the rough ways made smooth.'"

  Yet I had also been told that the locusts he ate kept him harsh in spirit and he would greet penitents by saying: "Generation of vipers, who has warned you to flee from the wrath to come?"

  The people would ask: "What shall we do?" And John the Baptist would answer: "Let him who has two coats give one to the man who has none." And he would always speak of the man mightier than himself who was yet to come.

  Yet when I first saw his face, I wished to hide my own. For I knew that he would not be long among us. And I knew this as if I heard a beating of wings overhead.

  I had joined a group of many people and so I could stare at John before he saw me and was able to watch the pilgrims as they were baptized and departed. I remained. Even in the loneliness of this place in the desert, he still could not see me, for I concealed myself in the shadow of a rock. It was only when the others were gone and the stones were hot from the sun that I came forward. To which he said, "I have waited for you."

  His eyes had more light than the sky, yet they were paler than the moon. His thin beard was long. The hair that grew from his ears was matted, and so too was the hair that grew from his cheeks. A wing and a leg of a locust were caught in his beard. I wondered how this man who bathed others and washed himself many times a day could still show such leavings. Yet it was not unfitting. His face was like a ravine and small creatures would live within.

  Looking at me, he said, "You are my cousin." Then he said, "I knew that you would come today."

  "How can you know?"

  He sighed. His breath was as lonely as the wind that passes through empty places. He said, "I have been told to wait for you, and I am tired. It is good that you are here."

  I felt so near to him that I soon confessed my sinsùI had never done as much for another. I would have deemed it belittling to whatever pride I had as a man. (For my sins were too small.) I might be a master carpenter and thirty years of age, but I felt young before him, and modest and much too innocent for such a grave man. I searched to find evil in myself and came back with no more than moments I could recall of disrespect toward my mother and contests in the night with lustful thoughts. Perhaps there had been a few acts of unkindness when judging others.

  "Well," he said, "you can still repent. Our sin is always more than we know." And John came behind me as I entered the water, and with the strength of a desert lion, he seized me by the nose and, with his other hand pressing upon my forehead, thrust me back into the river. Passing so quickly from air to water, I gasped first at my loss of breath and then from all the water I swallowed. Still, in this moment I saw many things, and my life was changed forever.

  Was the Holiest descending toward us in the shape of a dove? And when I came up from the water, the dove was on my shoulder. I felt as if much had come back to me from all that had been lost. I was one again with myselfù a poor man, but good. And then I felt more. I had a vision of glory. The heavens opened for an instant and it was as if I saw a million, nay, a million million of souls.

  I heard a voice, and it came from the heavens. It came into my ear and said: "Before I formed thee in the belly, I knew thee." Fear and exaltation were in me then, and in greater measure than I had ever known. I raised my face to the heavens and said, "Lord God, I am like a child."

  And the Lord spoke as He had to the prophet Jeremiah. I heard: "Say not 'I am a child,' for you shall go to all the places that I shall send thee." And I felt as if His finger blessed my mouth even as the beak of the dove touched my lips. His Word came into me like the burning fire in my bones when I was twelve and sick with fever.

  Now John withdrew his hand from my head and we stood in the river. Away went the dove. And John and I spoke to each other a little. I will tell of that, and soon. But when I left, I knew that I would never see him again. He began to sing as I left, but it was to the River Jordan, not to me. And the taste of that brown river was still in my mouth and the dust of the desert in my nostrils as I set out on my long march home to Nazareth.

  11

  It was late in the afternoon. The light upon the rocks turned to gold. And I could still hear John the Baptist as he sang. Since he knew no song, the music of his throat came forth like the voice of a ram.

  I walked with strength. For now I was no longer like other men. My legs took larger strides than before. Now I knew the other man who had lived within the shell of myself, and he was better than me. I had become that man.

  A great cloud came over the sky. There was a downpour. A rainbow arose from one end of the desert to touch the other, and above me was the radiance of the Lord. Soon I lay down upon the hot damp sand, and soon I heard His voice. He said: "Stand upon your feet."

  When I did, He told me: "Once I spoke to the prophet Ezekiel and he saved our people in Babylon. Now these words given to Ezekiel are for you: 'Son of Man, I send thee to the children of Israel, to a nation that hath rebelled against Me, even unto this very day. For they are impudent children and stiff-hearted. But you will speak My words unto them. Since they are not a people of a strange speech whose words you cannot understand but are the house of Israel, behold! I will make your face strong against their face. So fear them not.' "

  Then this voice said into my ear: "Those were My words to Ezekiel. But to you I say: You are My son, and therefore you will be mightier than a prophet. Even mightier than the prophet Ezekiel."

  I still had many hours to travel across land I hardly knew. Again I was full of exaltation, and again I was full of fear. I was also weary. The scrolls I had studied since childhood were not as close to me as the words of this high Lord my God, yet now that He was near, I could only fear Him. For the sound of His voice can be heard in the echo of great rocks when they fall. And I did not know how to serve a Lord who could leave boils upon the flesh of every man and beast in the land of Egypt and cast hail to blight every herb of the field, or fire in the grass until every tree was consumed. I raised my hands toward heaven as if to ask whether I was truly the one to exercise His force. And God said to me, "Since you are not yet strong, do not return to your home. Go up rather into the mountain that is there before you. Go now. In that wilderness, fast among the rocks. Drink the water that is beneath the rocks. But eat no food. Before the sun sets on the last of your days of fast, you will know why I have chosen you."

  Soon I learned of His power to protect me. As I climbed, darkness fell and I had
to share my ground with serpents and scorpions. Yet none came near. In the morning I climbed further and for much of the day upward on this mountain. And it was worthy of the lamentations of the prophet Isaiah, for one could say that the cormorant and the bittern possessed it.

  In every direction was emptiness. On the ramparts of the rock, vultures looked down on me, side by side, every vulture with her mate. It was then I thought of how John the Baptist had asked, on saying farewell: "Did the light of the Lord appear when you were immersed?"

  Even as John's eyes stared into mine, I had wondered if the million million of souls that I had seen were the face of the Lord. But to John I said only: "Is it not death and destruction to see Him?"

  He replied: "For all but the Christ." Then John said: "Once the Holy Spirit came to me. He was so near that I put my hands before my eyes. But the Holy Spirit said: 'I will let you gaze upon My back/ and He allowed me to see that His back was noble, a noble back." Then John grasped my arm. "I have known since I was a child that my cousin must come after me and replace me. For my mother spoke of how your mother told her of all that had been with her." Now he kissed me on both cheeks. "I baptize with water," he said, "and can cleanse any soul who has truly repented, even as water can extinguish fire. But you will baptize with the Spirit. You will root out evil with God's mercy." And he kissed me again.

  It was hard not to remember the breath of John the Baptist when he embraced me, for it was full of all that is in the odor of an exhausted man. And indeed, no matter how often one seeks water to soothe the throat, such an odor cannot be separated from the flesh. A vast fatigue speaks of all that has been lost to one's striving. Yet his skin had been honest and full of the loneliness of the desert and its rocks. And so did he also smell of the waters of the River Jordan and the heavy wisdom of its mud and silt.