The Big Fisherman (62 page)

But he didn't disappear, and the pilgrimage grew. Every side road that met the highway contributed. At night, when Jesus stopped, they all stopped, and the heavy-laden carts and the older people caught up. In the morning, when he resumed the journey, they were all ready to follow. Dozens of the well-to-do, who could afford tall camels, paid their respects and preceded the pedestrian parade. They would arrive many hours earlier than Jesus, and would have an amazing story to tell, no doubt.

When the Master's company broke camp at Ramah, on the morning of the third day, Peter—who hadn't wanted a crowd along—began to take pride in this astounding display of public interest. . . . Could it be possible, he exclaimed to Philip, that Jesus intended to enter Jerusalem in triumph?

'From the size and temper of this crowd, he could do it!' said Philip.

'Perhaps that has been his plan—from the first!' said Peter in an awed voice. 'Do you suppose he means to restore the Kingdom to Israel?'

'I don't think he wants to be the King of Israel,' put in Andrew.

'Why not?' demanded Judas sharply. 'Has it not been foretold by the prophets? Is not the Kingdom to be restored to Israel? Who else has the power to do it?'

Throughout the Sabbath Day they remained quietly in camp at Bethphage, with only three miles further to go on the morrow, the day the Romans called 'Sunday.' The village was suffocated with the enormous concentration of excited pilgrims. All manner of rumours and conjectures were in circulation through the camps. It was generally believed that Jesus of Nazareth was about to proclaim himself the King of the Jews, the Messiah, the Restorer of Israel!

Some of the older and more pious men remembered that an ancient prophet had predicted such an event. The King would ride into the city on an ass. A group of zealots set forth to find one. By good fortune they discovered a young ass, a beautiful white beast, tied at the gate of a paddock. He bore no saddle-scars or marks of harness. That was good; for the old men had said it should be an ass that had never been ridden. They besought the owner to lend them the beast, and told him why. Jesus, the wonder-worker of Galilee, would ride into the city as Israel's King! The man laughed coarsely.

'You may have him—and welcome!' he said. 'And I'll go along with you. This is something I want to see! Jasper has never been broken to ride.'

'Good!' they exclaimed. 'You say no one has ever tried to ride him before?'

'Oh yes, indeed!' guffawed the owner. 'It's just that Jasper doesn't like the idea. You'll see! . . . No—I don't want any money for the use of him. I just want to go along!'

Next morning, shortly after dawn, the great multitude swarmed about the house where Jesus was stopping. It was a noisy, half-hysterical crowd whose leaders shouted, 'Hail to the King! Hail to the King!' The turbulent throng took up the chant!

Peter was experienced in handling great masses of people, but this demonstration was already quite out of anyone's control. The little band stood close about the Master and tried to protect him from the fanatical pilgrims. A small company of men pushed through the jostling pack leading a shaggy white ass. Jesus mounted and the frantic procession moved forward with his close friends walking on either side of him, awed and anxious—but ecstatic.

They had left Bethphage now and were entering Bethany, the richest of the city's suburbs. The street was beautified with stately palms, which the advance contingents of the crowd ruthlessly pillaged of their branches, carpeting the highway for the King.

Jerusalem's towers and domes were plainly visible now across the deep valley that marked the course of the shallow Kedron. A huge multitude of pilgrims, lodged in the city, had been shouted into action by couriers from the main body of celebrants; and here they came, hundreds of them, racing up the long slope of the Mount of Olives. At the brow of the hill the procession halted, and gradually the triumphal shouts subsided. A strange silence fell upon them. The King was about to make an announcement. This was the moment for which they had been waiting!

For a long while he sat in a posture of dejection, gazing down upon the ancient stronghold of his people. Then the transfixed thousands who stood silently waiting witnessed an incredible sight. The King was in tears. He extended both arms in an embracing gesture, and cried, 'O Jerusalem! Jerusalem! How often would I have gathered you—as a hen gathers her chickens under her wings—but you would not!'

For a moment the people were stunned and unbelieving. The Nazarene had thrown away a Kingdom! The crowd began to disintegrate. Everyone was scurrying down the hill. The pilgrims had lost their King, but they still had Jerusalem. The man who owned Jasper came and led him away. Jesus' companions were speechless. Peter gnawed his underlip. Andrew looked sober. John and James consulted each other's clouded eyes and shook their heads. Philip's face was pale. Old Bartholomew had edged to the side of the street and was sitting on the curb, mopping his forehead. Thad was standing beside him, holding the old man's pack. . . . Judas had gone on down the hill.

* * * * * *

The little company, with Jesus in the midst of them, proceeded slowly toward the city. Straggling groups of pilgrims overtook and passed them, staring into the Master's face with various expressions of sympathy, entreaty, disappointment and reproach. Many were in tears.

Little was said, for there was little to say, as they trudged along, each man busy with his own thoughts. Although it was dismayingly certain now that the spontaneous public clamour to recognize Jesus as the promised Messiah had been silenced beyond any possibility of its renewal, the disciples—albeit distressed over the whole affair—were breathing easier than yesterday. Then they had feared that a great crowd of Jesus' admirers, surging about him in the streets of Jerusalem, would evoke the attention of the patrols, and the Master would be arrested—and punished as a disturber of the peace.

As it had turned out, Jesus had dealt with that situation before it had become acute. He was safer now than he might have been if this demonstration had not occurred. It was unlikely, they thought, that the authorities would take action against a movement which the Master himself had dissolved.

When they came to the East Gate and were about to enter the city, Jesus turned to say that they would go at once to the Temple. Peter smiled his gratification. Surely the authorities could find no fault with that. Had Jesus decided to ignore the Temple it might have aroused criticism. But, like any other pious pilgrim, he would pay his respects to the hallowed shrine of Jewry. The moody silence that had gripped them was eased somewhat and they conversed in voices that tried to sound casual. 'There's the Pool of Siloam, Johnny,' remarked James. 'That's where Nehemiah began the rebuilding of the wall.' 'See—there's Herod's Tower,' said Andrew. 'Looks new,' observed Philip, 'compared to the rest of the buildings.'

The Temple was having a busy day. Everybody had brought a sacrificial offering, each according to his means. The beautiful court of the Temple, lined and walled with exquisite designs in mosaic, was crammed with the gifts of pilgrims: fat calves and lambs and large slatted pens full of doves. The air was heavy with animal stench and raucous with the bellowings of the cattle and the bleating of the sheep; and over all this racket shrilled the strident voices of the money-changers who were there to serve the donors. For very frequently a lamb was found to be blemished, and the astonished pilgrim, who had thought his offering was entirely sound, would be told that they could provide him with an unblemished lamb in exchange for a small cash difference. The pilgrim would glumly produce the money; but in many cases it was coinage of the provinces and countries even more remote. He had to present himself at the desks of the exchangers, who could ill afford to conduct this service free of charge. It was a sordid scene, especially to anyone from the open country, unused to such haggling within consecrated walls. Even if it had been entirely honest, which it wasn't, this was not the place for it!

The Master's indignation suddenly flared. Above the babel of voices and bellows, he shouted, 'My Father's House is a place of worship! You have made it a place of merchandise!'

Seizing a drover's whip, he began to drive the animals out of the Temple Court. They stampeded toward the street, the crowd scurrying to give them room. The cages of the doves were thrown open and the birds were soon all over the building. Then the unscrupulous exchangers came in for their share of the rebuke. Jesus charged on them, upsetting their tables and money-tills.

The grim-faced companions of the Master retreated to the outer wall, astounded by his action. 'This,' muttered Peter, 'will settle it! They will never forgive him!'

Nor did they.

* * * * * *

Esther's journey to Jerusalem was much more pleasant than she had had any right to expect. After her sad leave-taking of Hannah, whose intuition informed her—and quite correctly, too—that they would never meet again, she immediately realized her good fortune in falling in with this friendly party from Capernaum.

There were a dozen of them, all related, and they seemed eager to welcome her into their company. The pretty girl Myra, instantly divining that the stranger was facing the trip unhappily, had been quick to confide that she herself hadn't wanted to come along because all the others were so much older 'and so tiresomely pious.' And now that she had found a friend of her own age she was going to have a good time, after all.

This warm-hearted proffer of comradeship was irresistible, and Esther surprised herself by the promptness with which she accepted it. The peculiar circumstances which had surrounded her—and almost suffocated her—ever since her early childhood had permitted but few youthful acquaintances. Since leaving Arabia she had had no girl friends at all. Myra was charming.

Having nothing to conceal, the girl from Capernaum opened the way for mutual confidences by chatting freely about her family. Wizened and wiry Grandfather Asher, with the patriarchal beard, no teeth and two canes, was, by right of seniority, the leader and mentor of the party. Myra's father, Gideon, lean, sober, and untalkative, walked beside the old man. Her mother, with a timid smile, followed with the other older women.

'My grandfather,' she said, 'is a great one for religion. He thinks of nothing but the Synagogue—and the Temple at the Holy City. He will be talking to you presently, and you'd better show him you're interested, or he'll be annoyed.'

They agreed that old people were funny and should be humoured. With her family accounted for, Myra talked about herself, her friends, her harp, her weaving, her sheep-dog, and—demurely, with lowered voice—about handsome young Joel, Jairus' chief vintner, adding in a whisper that her parents, and particularly her grandfather, did not approve of him.

'But you do, I think,' said Esther, which brought a pink flush to the girl's cheeks.

'Now let's talk about you, Esther,' she said.

This wasn't going to be so easy as it had been for Myra. Esther was an orphan, vaguely related to a family in Bethsaida with whom she had been living recently; but she was so indefinite about her origin that she soon began to seem somewhat illegitimate. Myra came to her rescue by asking if she lived with the woman who had accompanied her to the highway.

'Yes,' replied Esther. 'Her name is Hannah.'

'There was a Bethsaidan woman named Hannah who was supposed to have been healed by that Carpenter when she was at death's door,' said Myra in a tone of incredulity.

Esther nodded. 'That was my Hannah,' she said. 'And it was a miracle. I was there. I saw it.'

Myra laid her hand lightly on Esther's arm, and murmured, 'Don't let my grandfather hear you say that. He gets very angry. That's what he has against Joel.'

They gradually improved their pace, putting a little distance between themselves and the others. Myra wanted to pursue their talk about the Carpenter.

'I never heard him speak; never saw him,' she went on. 'I wasn't allowed to. But I don't like him because he has come between me and Joel.'

'Joel believes in him, then,' said Esther.

'He not only believes in him,' said Myra. 'He has left his job, for days on end, to follow him about! He was gone so often that Jairus discharged him. And my grandfather was glad of it and said it served him right. . . . And then, when it was told that the Carpenter had cured the sickness of little Sharon, Jairus' child, Joel was taken back and his wages were raised. We all thought my grandfather would have a fit.'

'Did your grandfather ever see Jesus?' Esther inquired.

'Not he!' rasped Myra. 'Grandfather's got it into his head that this Jesus person is down on the Synagogue, and encourages people to break the Sabbath, and consorts with publicans and sinners. You should hear him! . . . I hate religion,' she added angrily. 'Any kind of religion!'

'I don't believe you would hate Jesus, if you knew him,' said Esther quietly.

'Well—I'll never know him,' snapped Myra. 'My family will see to that. . . . Come—let us talk about something pleasant.'

So they talked about Joel.

That night they camped at Hammath. The next morning they passed through Cana. Grandfather Asher, learning that this was Esther's first trip to Jerusalem, took her in hand and pointed out memorable landmarks. She listened attentively, but asked no questions that might betray her ignorance of Jewish history. As they passed through Samaria, the old man gathered his flock around Jacob's Well and told them all about it. It was the first time Esther had ever heard of the hallowed well—or of Jacob; but she managed to show a becoming reverence. Indeed, she was much more deeply affected by the story than Myra, who patted a yawn and gazed at an excited dog that had chased a cat up a tree.

That afternoon, Asher hobbled forward, grasped Esther's arm and pointed to a distant mountain-peak.

'It was up there,' he declaimed impressively, 'that the great prophet Elijah lived! Right up there where you see that notch!'

'Indeed!' murmured Esther.

The old man fell back to inform the others and Myra moved in close beside her friend.