An Echo in the Darkness(123)
She touched the green fronds of a palm. “Do you remember when you took me to the Asklepion to see the ceremonies there?”
“Yes. What about it?”
“There was an ensign carried before the procession of priests. A tall pole on which snakes were entwined.”
“Serpents on a standard. Yes, I know.”
“Your seal ring bears the same symbol.”
“Yes. It identifies me as a physician.”
“Just as the engraving you had carved on the door of this house.”
He frowned slightly. “Does that disturb you?” Of course it must. Why would she bring it up now unless it did? He should have explained. “I suppose it seems sacrilegious to you, but I don’t worship the ensign. I only use it to make known what I am—a physician. People see the serpent on a standard and identify it with the sacred snakes of Asklepios, the god of healing and medicine.”
Pensive, she lowered her hand from the frond. “When God brought the Israelites out of Egypt, he delivered up the Canaanites to be destroyed. Then our people set out from Mount Hor by the way of the Red Sea to go around the land of Edom.”
“What are you trying to tell me with this story?”
She went on as though she hadn’t heard him. “The people were impatient because of the journey. They spoke against God, and the Lord sent serpents among the people. Many died because of them.”
“I imagine that turned them around again.”
She looked at him. “Yes. They realized they had sinned. They went to Moses and asked him to intercede with the Lord, to ask that he would remove the serpents from them, and Moses did. The Lord told Moses to make a fiery serpent and set it on a standard. Moses obeyed his command. He made a bronze serpent and set it on the standard, and it came about that if a serpent bit any man he had only to look at the bronze serpent to live.”
Julia Valerian forgotten, Alexander’s curiosity was roused. “Perhaps the origin of the standard of Asklepios is the same as that of the Lord.”
“I don’t know,” she said, not denying the possibility. What God gave to man, man corrupted. “The first time I saw the standard, I remembered the history my father taught me. And I tell you now what he told me. The people saw their sin, they repented, they looked upon the standard God had given them, they believed in his power to restore . . . and they lived.”
He was perplexed.
She saw his confusion, recognized his resistance. Help me, Lord, she prayed and then went on. “My father heard Jesus say that just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so the Son of Man would be lifted up.”
He thought then he understood what she was saying, though not her reasons for it. “You speak of his resurrection.”
“No. I speak of his crucifixion. He was nailed to a cross and set up before all mankind. He is the standard.”
He went cold. “Why do you tell me this?”
“To help you understand why I have to go back to Julia.”
His anger returned full force. “To be crucified this time? To be nailed to a cross instead of thrown to the lions?”
“No, Alexander. To take the standard of the Lord and place it before her.”
Filled with fear for her, he stood and came to her, his mind seeking desperately for the argument that would sway her to sanity. Gently, he took her hands in his. “Listen to me, Hadassah. Think longer on this. You’re accomplishing great things here with me. Look how far we’ve come from that mean little booth outside the public baths. Look at what you’ve been able to do for others. People revere you.”
She pulled away. “What has been accomplished is of the Lord’s doing, not mine—”
“I know that,” he said, trying to interrupt.
“It is his name that must be glorified. Not the name of Rapha.”
He frowned. “I didn’t realize it bothered you so much to be called by that name.”
“I am not the healer, Alexander. Jesus is Rapha,” she said with tears in her eyes. “How many times must I tell you?” She placed her hand against her heart. “I am an ordinary woman who loves the Lord. That’s all I am.”
“And has not your Lord anointed others with the healing touch? Even I have heard of Jesus’ apostles who, by a mere touch, could heal the sick.”
“I am not an apostle, Alexander. Jesus ascended before I was born.”
“Then how do you explain the things that have happened through you? You may not believe in yourself, but people believe in you.”
She moved away from him. He realized his error the moment the words were uttered, and he tried to retract them. “I didn’t mean to say they see you as a god.” She turned. Her look drove him to honesty. “All right! A few do see you in that way, but you’ve done nothing to encourage them to do so. You have no reason to feel guilty.”