The Galilean Secret: A Novel (18 page)

“All right,” Gabriel said. “I’ll stay in Jerusalem to rest, but no matter what you do, I must find Jesus before he enters the city and speak to him personally.”

Nicodemus embraced him and got up to leave. “If you’re better by the Sabbath, come to my home after the morning sacrifices. It’s quiet there, and we can talk without interruption. Then, if you’re strong enough, you can go to Jesus. In the meantime, I will send a carrier with your message.”

Gabriel fingered his bandages, wishing he could remove them. He thought about what the Galileans had done to him and about the revolt they were planning. If Pilate got wind of the uprising, his reprisal would be swift and fierce. Gabriel quivered. He would warn Jesus, even if it meant risking his life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THE WHITE MARBLE OF NICODEMUS BEN GORION’S HOME FELT COOL AGAINST JUDITH’S TREMBLING HANDS. She and Dismas were there to rob it, having arrived in Jerusalem two days earlier and hidden out with resistance fighters in Zedekiah’s Cave, the sprawling underground quarry named for the last king of Judah. Now it was time to break in to this spacious three-level house with wide terraces, expansive roofs and glorious views of the Temple. On this Sabbath morning, most people were at worship and the streets were deserted as expected. But Nicodemus and his family would return soon, so she and Dismas had to act fast.

She followed him toward the back of the house, knowing this could be her last chance to leave. A week earlier, she had been desperate enough to steal a horse and try to flee the Zealots. Now, because Dismas had saved her from banishment, possibly even death, everything was different. On the ride from Qumran to Jerusalem, the memory of her young brother Reuben getting run over by a chariot had played across her mind. Her craving for justice and her gratitude to Dismas had kept her with him.

But she worried that his promise to be a better husband would be short-lived. His first priority had to be to win back Barabbas’ trust, not to build a life with her. If she robbed this house, she would be breaking the law and become even more tied to Dismas. She stopped and let him walk ahead. This was her chance to go home and apologize to all the people she had hurt. Perhaps they would forgive her and she could rebuild her life. . . .

She couldn’t do it.

By stealing for the Zealots she would contribute to their cause and eventually avenge her brother’s murder. She might also regain the respect of those who had believed Judas’ lies.

Dismas turned around and saw her standing there. He waved a hand and mouthed the words, “Come on.”

She had no choice but to rob the home. Her face grew hot and her palms sweaty. She ran to Dismas. Memories of the night they had eloped came back to her: how close she had felt to him beneath the stars; the desert wet with dew; the night silent except for the crackle of the fire and the distant cry of a hawk.

He took her hand and strode faster, carrying a long rope and a large homespun bag. “It’s time to steal a rich man blind.” Dismas grinned and tossed the noosed end of the rope onto the roof.

Judith watched as he attempted to lasso a corner or a ledge, but he kept missing. Her chest ached from her heart’s pounding. “Hurry, Dismas. The Temple service will get out soon.” The noose finally caught on a corner of the roof. He tossed her the bag and began to climb. He straddled the rope and ascended hand over hand, his sandaled feet fighting to gain traction on the dusty limestone. Halfway to the top, he slipped, his body slamming against the wall and then dangling. He struggled to gain a foothold. His heavy grunts and gasps made her wonder if he would make it, but he redoubled his efforts, and in spite of several missteps and moments of swaying wildly, he finally hoisted himself onto the roof. She ran toward the side door off the alley. In a matter of minutes, he unlocked and opened the door from within.

Judith followed him inside. They rushed through the courtyard, past linen-cushioned divans, well-designed gardens and a cavernous bathing pool. The floral mosaics and colorful frescoes in the main room were enhanced by the hibiscus-like scent of fine perfume. He shook his head in disgust. “These rich men have profited from the Romans. Now it’s our turn.”

Dismas eyed a purple curtain beside the dining room. He headed toward it and waved for Judith to follow. Behind the curtain lay a small chamber that housed elegant clay tableware, pale green Roman glass vessels, gold and silverware and pottery inlaid with sapphires. He opened the homespun bag and began to fill it.

At the far end Judith discovered the folded robes, prayer books and phylacteries of a Pharisee. The name “Nicodemus ben Gorion” was inscribed on several of the books. On a shelf lay what looked like an ornately carved jewelry box, long and deep. Setting the box on top of the polished silverware caused a ringing that sent an echo of guilt through her.

Dismas hurried to fill the bag. She shuddered to have sunk so low—robbing a rich man like a common thief. The thought paralyzed her: she stood fused to the stone floor as the guilt caused her eyes to grow misty.

Voices.

The expression on Dismas’ face said that he had heard them too. He pulled the curtain closed and pressed his index finger to his lips. They both stood silent and still, trapped in the storage chamber.

She identified the voice of an older man, whom she assumed was Nicodemus ben Gorion, as he invited a companion to sit and drink wine. “It’s quiet here and we can talk about the letter,” Nicodemus said.

“What you told me about the darkness within has helped me to understand why Judith and Dismas betrayed me.”

Judith gasped as she recognized Gabriel’s anguished voice.

“What was that?” Nicodemus asked and then became quiet. After a few moments, he said, “Must have been the wind.”

Judith stared at Dismas, her mouth agape with the realization that Gabriel was Nicodemus’ guest, and he was seeking counsel from his father’s friend about his broken heart. Dismas scowled at the sound of his brother’s voice, beads of sweat dotting his forehead.

Gabriel went on, “After what you told me about the rabbi Jesus of Nazareth’s letter to Mary Magdalene, I understand his compassion for the harlot at Simon ben Ephraim’s house. I know Jesus didn’t mean to hurt Mary.”

Judith brought a hand to her mouth, sickened by how deeply she had betrayed Gabriel. Tempted to cry out, she remained silent by biting her lip till she drew blood. She wondered who this rabbi named Jesus of Nazareth was.

“The letter contains more radical ideas,” Nicodemus said. “Forgiving Judith and Dismas will help to release your pain, but it cannot make you well. For that, you must become more whole. And that is accomplished when you embrace the female within you.”

“The female?” Gabriel said, agitated. “There’s no female in me!”

Hearing Gabriel now, Judith remembered his fun-loving nature as a child, and how people were drawn to him, how impressed they were by his intelligence and his natural gift for business. The guilt hit her again, taking her breath away like a punch in the stomach.

Nicodemus cleared his throat. “In the letter Jesus describes the oneness of the male and the female by referring to the creation story in the Torah. The story explains that God created the first human being both male and female, in God’s image.”

“I thought the first human being was a man called Adam,” Gabriel said, “and that God created the first woman from his rib.”

“That’s one reading of the story,” Nicodemus said. “But the Hebrew word
tsela
, which is often translated ‘rib,’ more often means ‘side.’ The letter emphasizes the wonderful meanings associated with this second reading. ‘Adam’ is not necessarily a man’s name; it literally means ‘red earth.’ Perhaps the first human was both male and female, as the Torah implies. This reading pictures God putting the first human to sleep and dividing it into two separate beings, a man and a woman. Adam and Eve originally shared a common side. They were created equal, a perfect union of male and female.”

Judith felt tension grow within her as she listened. A sharp throbbing began as she realized that Nicodemus’ telling of the creation story mirrored her own experience. Falling in love with Dismas felt like a homecoming, a return to a joy she had known long ago but then lost. When she made love to him in the desert, the joy had become complete. But when there was conflict between them, she felt lost again. The feeling had continued until the present and she had not known a moment of peace, except on those rare occasions when Dismas listened to her long enough to lure her into sex.

The smirk on Dismas’ hard, unexpressive face made her feel estranged from him. She had betrayed Gabriel and now she was trapped in an empty marriage that felt as inescapable as the storage chamber in which they were standing. It took all her resolve to keep from sobbing, for she felt overwhelmed with guilt.

Nicodemus went on, “With the woman’s creation, Adam became alienated from her spiritual essence that had resided within him, and he began to ache for her, body and soul. Her voice woke him from his deep sleep, and from then on, he yearned to hear her whisper his name. The woman felt the same yearning. The letter quotes the Torah: ‘This is why a man leaves his father and mother and joins himself to his wife, and they become one flesh.’”

Judith could hear Gabriel’s labored breathing. He began to speak but then stopped, his voice cracking. Finally he managed to say, “But what does all of this have to do with how Judith broke my heart?”

Judith stared at the floor, avoiding Dismas’ gaze as tears burned her eyes and a tight knot formed in her throat. The tears fell onto her soiled tunic, leaving spots that appeared dark and lasting. She prayed that the wise Pharisee’s reply would ease her grief.

Nicodemus said, “Eve once lived within Adam, and he within her, but she became an earthly being when God separated her from Adam’s side. Eve was female, but her soul remembered its original oneness with Adam, and their painful separation could only be healed through a physical reunion. They accomplished this by celebrating their nakedness in the sexual ecstasy of paradise. Adam and Eve were naked and unashamed because they remembered being both male
and
female. Only when they disobeyed God did the man begin to see himself as exclusively male and the woman as exclusively female. The separation left them scarred in body and fractured in soul. They became ashamed and covered up their nakedness. Finally, when God banished them from the Garden, he placed cherubim at the entrance, along with a flaming sword, to prevent them from returning. Ever since, sex has given men and women a taste of Eden.”

Tears filled Judith’s eyes so she couldn’t see Dismas. She bit down on the cloth of her tunic to keep from crying out.
What have I done?
The thought echoed in her mind, each repetition more devastating than the last. The only comfort she found was in Nicodemus’ words. She wondered how he had come to possess this letter. He said that the rabbi Jesus had written to a woman named Mary Magdalene. Who was she, and why didn’t she have the letter?

Finally Gabriel said, “I’ve never heard the story of Adam and Eve explained this way.” His voice sounded hoarse and strained, burdened with sorrow. “To accept the letter’s teaching would mean changing my view of myself. It would mean seeing myself as both male and female. How do I do that?”

Nicodemus didn’t answer immediately, but eventually he said, “You can only do this through deep reflection and a growing awareness of your true nature. We are all like Adam and Eve outside the Garden. Sexual attraction feels euphoric because it returns us to when man and woman were one. Lovers find in each other the bond they have lost between the male and the female in themselves. They also see
through
each other to the image of God in their partner. This makes the woman appear as a goddess and the man a god.”

“Is this what you meant when you told me I didn’t understand sexual attraction?” Gabriel asked.

Judith stole a glance at Dismas. He appeared to be listening as intently as she was to Nicodemus. “The woman in the man and the man in the woman are the unseen partners in the attraction. Healthy people know this and use it to their benefit, in both their courting and married lives. Unfortunately, it is difficult to live in this healthy way because it takes continual vigilance and discipline. The pain in the marriages and families of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and David illustrate this point, as do many others. Dismas and Judith are like these people who, in their ignorance, brought suffering upon themselves. Thankfully Jesus has recovered the fullness of God’s image, and he can show us the way to healing.”

Gabriel struggled to keep his voice steady. “I want to see Jesus again. But now I will see him with new eyes.”

Nicodemus said, “If you want to recover from the blow Judith dealt you, you must find the feminine image of God in yourself. That is how a man gains access to the treasures in his soul as Jesus has. He is like the first human being before the separation of Adam and Eve. He is the new Adam, a perfectly whole man, with deep intimacy between the male and the female in his soul. The deeper you go into this intimacy within yourself, the more capable of love you will become. I know this because, after reading the letter, I have been going deeper myself, and I have never been happier in my life and marriage.”

As Nicodemus spoke, Judith heard other voices. A woman called from the courtyard, imploring him to come quickly. “Hadassah is near death and wants to see you!” Judith assumed that the voice belonged to Nicodemus’ wife, since he and Gabriel left immediately.

After they were gone, Dismas quietly stole out into the dining room, Judith following. As they went up to the third-floor roof, Judith couldn’t forget Gabriel’s anguish. But neither could she forget the part Nicodemus had played. His words still whispered in her mind, puzzling yet comforting.

Dismas handed her the bag, secured the rope to the ledge and shimmied down it. Judith threw him the bag and then started down the rope. As she neared the ground, someone yelled, “Thieves! Stop, thieves!” She jumped the final three feet and ran with Dismas, reminded of the night they had eloped.
How I wish I had never left home.
She strained to keep up with her husband, sprinting for Zedekiah’s Cave and the tunnels beneath the city.