The Redeemer (8 page)

“That’s Him,” the angel said softly in Simeon’s ear. Then the angel was gone before I had a chance to talk to him.

“Wait a moment, please,” Simeon called out to Joseph and Mary. “I must see the baby.”

Simeon was old, and it was hard for him to move quickly, so he motioned for them to come over. Cautiously they came nearer.

“Let me see His face.”

Mary adjusted the blanket, and Jesus looked right into the old man’s eyes.

Simeon stepped back with tears streaming down his face.

“All my life I’ve stood guard at this temple for the Lord. God told me I would not die until I had seen the face of the one who would deliver Israel.”

Mary’s eyes filled with tears.

“Would you like to hold Him?” she asked.

Simeon nodded, and very gently Joseph took Jesus and placed Him in the old man’s arms.

“Now I can die in peace,” Simeon said through his sobs, “because today these eyes of mind have seen the Savior, the one who will save His own people and be a light to the Gentiles.”

An old woman named Anna, a widow of eighty-four years who also stayed at the temple praying day and night, rushed over and looked at the baby and broke out in a song of praise and worship. Between Simeon and Anna holding Jesus, dancing around together —as best as two people in their eighties can dance around—it was quite the spectacle. A small crowd began to gather when the temple priest came out to see what was going on.

“We’ve brought our son to be circumcised in keeping with the Law of Moses,” Joseph told him.

The priest led them inside. I didn’t go. I never developed the stomach it took to watch a circumcision. I was happy to wait on the steps. The priest who circumcised Jesus that day was
this
priest who now stood looking into Jesus’ eyes twelve years later.

“Still, you can’t just barge into the temple,” the priest said. “Who do you think you are?”

Jesus looked down at the marble floor for a moment and then looked right back into the priest’s eyes.

“That’s why I’m here. I want you to tell Me who I am.”

The priest glanced quickly from side to side, checking to see if anyone was around to whom Jesus might belong. Seeing no one, the priest took Jesus by the hand and led Him into the inner room. Just as I was about to follow, the priest closed the curtain, and I could not pass through. Somewhat relieved, I sat down on the steps and waited.

It was dusk, and most of the crowds had gone home when Jesus emerged from the priest’s quarters. He walked quickly down the marble steps, looking neither to the left nor right but ran straightway out of the temple grounds back toward the caravan that was settling in for the night.

Over the centuries, being a keen observer of humanity, I can always tell from the smallest variance in behavior when a human has experienced a fundamental shift in psyche. Jesus was different than He had been a few hours earlier. I wanted to ask Him what happened in there, but I knew it would be futile. The Jesus who winked at me as a baby was gone. From that day forward I feared I was as invisible to Him as I was to any ordinary human.

By the time we reached the caravan His parents had discovered Him missing and were frantically running from tent to tent looking for Him. When Mary saw Him walking across the campsite toward her, she ran to Him and thrust her arms around Him. Joseph was right behind her.

“Where have You been?” she asked.

“Don’t You know how worried we were?” Joseph asked as he put a hand on Jesus’ shoulder.

“I’m sorry I made you worry, but I had to be about my Father’s business.”

Jesus bowed quickly to His parents, then ran off toward their tent.

Mary was trembling when Joseph put his arm around her.

“It’s too soon,” she said. “Do you think…?”

“He knows,” Joseph answered.

C
HAPTER 8

J
OHN
, J
ESUS’ COUSIN
, stayed with the Essenes for several years. During that time I stayed close to Jesus. I never saw Him do one single thing in all those years that looked God-ish. He worked with Joseph learning the carpenter’s trade. He studied the Torah and the prophets and had long talks with the rabbis at the synagogue. Usually when a young man like Jesus showed the aptitude for the Scriptures, the elders and rabbis whisked him into advanced teaching that would send the lad on his way to becoming a rabbi or a priest. Not so with Jesus. The rumors about the strange circumstances surrounding His birth would stay with Him throughout His life.

When Joseph died, it was Jesus who supported His mother and brothers and sisters until the kids were able to take care of themselves. I liked Jesus so much that I didn’t mind spending all those years waiting for Him to do something that looked like what the Messiah should do. I stayed out of the second heaven, because I had nothing to report. I must admit that I began to wonder if it had all been a mistake, and Jesus was no one special after all. Certainly the angels had appeared, and maybe He was born of a virgin, but could all of that have been nothing more than a trial balloon, a dress rehearsal?

I pondered this while I watched Jesus carving a table for His mother. Perhaps God was playing out a possible scenario to test its viability before committing to a final plan to save the Jews. “Then again, maybe not,” I said to myself. “Jesus is Adonai in the flesh, there is no doubt about it.”

I flew outside to continue talking to myself. I was never sure whether He could see me or hear me, and just in case He could, I didn’t want to be caught criticizing Him, which is what I was about to do.

“Jesus,” I wanted to say, “do You really think this is the best use of Your time? There are a dozen young men in this neighborhood who can make things out of wood, but not a single one can blow on a dead bird and bring it back to life. Have You thought what might happen if You tried it on a dead human? When Your brothers and sisters begged You to do something to heal Joseph, why didn’t You?

“Pretending to be—let me rephrase that—
being
a human can’t possibly be as exciting as being the second person of the Trinity. Why spend Your time making tables and chairs, when in Your natural state You can make galaxies?”

Life around Jesus was about as unremarkable as could be if one were expecting supernatural fireworks. It stayed that way for years until the day John came back from the desert. I don’t know what the Essenes taught John, but just let me say there were no classes on grace or charm in the curriculum. He came back with terrible taste in clothes, eating little more than honey and locusts, and was the perfect representation of an angry young man. It didn’t take long to figure out what he was angry about.

He went down to the river and called out for people to come, repent, and be baptized. A lot of the regular folk went down to see John, and out of curiosity, so did a number of priests. They went to see what some had reported as a religious zealot at the Jordan, and John did not disappoint them; he was indeed peculiar. Let me also add that John was not a slave to fashion. He wore a knee-length toga made out of camel’s hair, of the cosmetically untreated variety. The Essenes should have taught him how lasting first impressions can be, especially when meeting religious royalty. He gave them a shout-out as soon as they arrived.

“You brood of vipers! Who told you to flee from the coming wrath of God? What makes you think you can pretend to repent and God will accept you? Don’t think being a child of Abraham exempts you. I’m telling you that the axe is being laid at the root of your dead religion, and every one of you who doesn’t change and live a life in keeping with true repentance will be chopped down.”

I stood on the riverbank next to the priests, elders, and ordinary folk, and here’s what I thought we should all do: run as far away as possible. John the boyhood friend and cousin to Jesus had become John the madman. I expected the crowd to clear out immediately. What person in his right mind would wade out waist deep in the river and let a crazy man hold him under?

This was one of the few times in human history when people surprised me. They didn’t run away at all. They formed long lines and stayed for hours as they waited their turns to go down one by one to repent and be baptized by John.

“What must I do?” asked a middle-aged man.

“If you have two coats, give one to someone who has none.”

Even the tax collectors went down.

“What must we do for forgiveness?”

“Collect no more than you’re supposed to; don’t line your pockets by stealing from your own brothers.”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing when a couple of the Roman soldiers stepped into the river.

“Teacher, what should we do?”

“Don’t extort people or accuse then falsely. Be content with your pay, and stop blackmailing the townsfolk.”

One of the people called out, “John, are you the promised Messiah?”

John stopped what he was doing and walked nearer to the shore to answer.

“No, I’m not. I’m just a voice in the wilderness telling you to make straight the way of the coming Lord. I baptize you with water, but there is one coming after me whose sandals I’m not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.”

At that very moment, John turned around and was more than a little caught off guard to see Jesus standing in the water next to him.

“What are You doing here?”

“I’ve come to be baptized by you.”

“But why? If anything, it is I who should be baptized by You.”

John, do you know Jesus is the Messiah?

“Let everything be done in keeping with the Scriptures.” Jesus bowed His head for John to dunk Him just like he did everybody else.

Whether or not John knew at that moment Jesus was the Messiah I’m not sure, but I knew. Perhaps it was the incredulity of it all that overcame me at that moment. John put his hand on Jesus’ back to lower Him into the water.

“Wait,” I cried out and began to run toward them as fast as I could, but suddenly everything was moving in slow motion.

Without giving a thought to the possible consequences, I took a flying leap (literally) toward Jesus, splashed down into the water next to Him, and grabbed hold of His sleeve. With my other hand I held my nose, and when He went down into the water, I went down with Him.

Moments later, it was over. When we were upright in the river again, the sun was shining down on Jesus as if He was standing in a spotlight. Everyone saw it. Then came a voice from above that I recognized as God; He spoke and all the people heard Him.

“This my Son, in whom I am well pleased.”

Always before when I’d heard God speak I would find some place to hide. This time was different; I felt safe standing next to Jesus.

I’m not sure how to explain what changed in me after that, but something did. I found myself growing more and more attached to Jesus. Oh, I know I’d complained that He could have prioritized and used His time more efficiently. But when I came up out of the baptismal waters with Him, I loved Him just as I’d loved Adonai in the third heaven. It didn’t matter that He never acknowledged me. I promised myself I would follow Him wherever He went. There was only one thing I had to do first.

“I must go back, face Satan, and quit my job.”

I flew back to the second heaven right then and planned to hand in my two weeks’ notice. I would hang a vacancy sign on my perch and leave everything except the legal brief I’d been working on for centuries. I wouldn’t leave that behind. It was just a matter of time until I got my day in court, and when it came, I would be ready. In the meantime, I had a plan for escaping Satan so I could help Jesus with His earthly mission. Gifted as He was, Jesus was barely thirty years old, and there’s just so much one can learn about life by such a young age. I, on the other hand, am—actually, I’m not sure how old I am, but there’s not much I haven’t seen as far as life on the earth goes.

I was halfway home before my baptismal glow faded and reality set in. There was no way Satan would ever let me leave. I was a slave, property, to him. He’d destroy me before I could get out the door. I could try to run away, but he’d find me no matter where I tried to hide. By the time I reached my perch, I was as depressed as I’d ever been in my life. I hoped no one would notice I’d returned. I wanted to be by myself to figure out what I was going to do about Jesus.

“Jesus,” I called out to Him over the black abyss between the second heaven and the earth. “I know You’ve come to free the Jews from Satan’s grasp. Satan seems to know how You plan to do it, but I don’t. After You free them, I suppose You plan to stop by Hades and pick up all those people who are waiting for you in Abraham’s Bosom. Let me plant an idea with You: I am in just as much bondage to Satan as any of those humans. After You take care of everybody else, could You think about freeing me as well?”

C
HAPTER 9

T
HERE WAS NO
point in putting it off; it was time to give Satan a report. I made my way over to his compound and sat down on the granite steps to wait my turn to see him. I tried to make small talk with the guard.

“So, I’ve been out of town for a while; how are things going?”

“You’re the watcher, right?”

I nodded.

“I thought it was you.”

He looked me over and wrinkled his nose.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He wrinkled his nose again.

“I don’t smell anything. Where’s your odor?”

Have I ever mentioned that demons stink? I’m sure I must have. Anyway, they do—we do. In fact, that’s one way you can always know if a demon is around. The odor may vary depending on the degree of horribleness, but a trained nose can find a demon’s location even if he’s invisible.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A light flashed on his guard station.

“Never mind. He’s ready for you.”

I tiptoed into Satan’s throne room a little worried about what the guard said. If there was anything different about me at all, Satan would pick up on it in an instant. He looked up at me and sniffed.