Fifth Gospel(106)

Judas saw only her tearful face gazing out from her mourning veil. And what a face it was! Arresting, inscrutable! His blood made skips in his veins. He was restless. He waited for her to glance his way. He beckoned her to look just once.

The women of the town, those who had followed Magdalena’s steps, came upon the place where Jesus now stood with his disciples. They wept and pulled at their clothes while Magdalena fell at Jesus’ feet – without so much as a fidget of glance in Judas’ direction.

He waited. Quiet fell over the day, save the groaning and moaning of the mourners.

‘Had you been here my brother would not have died!’ she said to him. But her words were spoken differently, for in them Judas noted a tone of thankfulness that Jesus had not come sooner! Could these be tears of joy?

When Jesus saw this he raised Magdalena’s chin with his hand and Judas saw then what passed between them, and this awakened in him a realisation. Rage and discontent surged through him and he could taste gall in his spit. He wanted to howl like an animal for the anguish of it – not only for its intimacy, which must be clear to all, but also for its complicity, since he now understood that Magdalena was in some way entangled in Lazarus’ initiation.

His bowels were full of thorns.

‘Where have you laid him?’ Jesus asked her, his voice soft and tender, his eyes veiled with tears.

Judas knew that he was harnessing a force of love in his heart, a force that would raise his pupil from his death trance. Even those who were not his disciples sensed it, and said, ‘Look how Jesus loves Lazarus!’

Magdalena showed Jesus a grave that was covered with a great round stone.

Would Jesus do it now? Judas leaned his mind in his direction, daring him to do it.

Jesus walked to the grave and paused before it. Looking troubled he turned and his eyes fell on Judas. Judas felt a gasp come. Could Jesus have discerned the nature of his thoughts? But Jesus, for his part, was now telling those gathered around to take away the stone blocking the grave.

Martha was alarmed, ‘But Lord! By this time there will be a smell, for he has been dead near four days.’

Jesus said to her, ‘Martha, did I not just say to you that if you believed you would see God glorified in Lazarus?’

Martha lowered her eyes, ‘Yes, Lord.’

When the men rolled away the heavy stone and returned to the crowds the people put the corners of their garments about their faces to fend off the smell. But there was no smell.

Jesus raised his eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you. That my word is one with you in spirit, and that you hear me always, but because of the people who stand by, I will say it out loud, that they too might hear how the Word, your Son, is in me, so that they might believe that you have sent Him to me and that through Him you and I are one!’

Judas knew that by saying this Jesus wished to reveal how in himself lived the Word, the Son of the Father, which he would make enter into Lazarus’ soul to awaken him.

‘Lazarus come forth!’ resounded the forbidden words.

Nature drew a breath. Above, came the sound of a great eagle making its noises as it rose upwards over the mountains, circling the skies and falling away into the melting sun of day’s end. The world followed it and Judas also followed it as it soared aloft and died away. A thought, foreign to his experience, now crossed his mind: why could he not be like that bird, basking in the light of the sun with hopeful abandon? Why must he live always like a scorpion fearing the sun?

But this self-understanding was short-lived, for upon hearing a round of gasps his concentration was now returned to witness the beloved of Jesus, the initiate, coming from out of the black mouth of the cave bound with graveclothes.

‘Loosen him and let him go!’ Jesus told the women.

Martha, shocked, remained behind. Only Magdalena went to Lazarus to help. After that Jesus was thronged by all those who had come to the burial place, and was swept away to Bethany, but not before turning once more to look upon Judas.

That glance made a path clear from Judas’ head to his heart. He understood now that he was standing upon the soil of freedom, between his hope and his fear. Here, it seemed to him, was a last occasion to love this man, to love him despite his urge to betray him, to recognise his greatness despite his impulse to follow his destiny.

But he could not.

The eyes, multi-coloured and endless-deep, held and held him until they held no more. Gasping, with his head turning in circles, Judas was let go and he sat upon a rock to get his breath back. It was a long moment before he could rise again and make his way to Bethany with his eyes tethered to the ground.

High above him the eagle scooped wind with its wings and circled him. Its eye ranged the sky…its gaze was upon him, unblinking, open, shut, perfect…but Judas did not see it.