Gamaliel was slighted – forgeries! He felt the blood rise to his face. ‘Listen to me, Jesus! Do not mock the tradition of Israel, which was given to us so that we, the chosen people, might prepare for the Messiah!’
‘I am not mocking it,’ Jesus said. ‘I am only telling you the truth as I know it.’ His coloured eyes held Gamaliel’s as he spoke, ‘Tell me, what hinders the coming of the Messiah?’
Gamaliel was flustered by this directness and looked away. ‘You know as well as I that there must first come repentance and good works…’
‘Repentance and good works?’ Jesus asked with raised brows while beneath them those tranquil eyes were a-fire. He stood and walked to the porches. ‘Is that what Elijah tells?’
Gamaliel was annoyed that his friend was so querulous a mood, and said harshly, ‘No…Elijah…tells that He will come when His voice is heard!’
Jesus began to pace the terrace, his body full of nervous activity. ‘Yes! He will come when his voice is heard...but where are the ears that can hear it over the rabbis quoting their quotes?’ he paused in his pacing to give Gamaliel a sideways glance, ‘Your teachings have dulled your ears and have fashioned eyes that are trained only on kings, and priests arrayed in resplendent robes, only on those who sit on thrones, or in the cool shades of the Temple courts. How will your ears hear Him and your eyes recognise Him if He comes among the poor and the lowly, or if He is seen speaking to gentiles and idol worshippers?’
Gamaliel watched him a moment before making his voice cool and laconic, ‘When He comes to us we will know Him because we have the words of the prophets in our ears; those who tell us how to recognise Him!’
Jesus took this into consideration. ‘Then you will not know him in your heart, is that what you say? You will only know him if he fits the image you have made of him in your mind?’
Gamaliel, confounded, replied, ‘It is in the way of young men that they desire to know everything for themselves, in their hearts. But you must be satisfied with what those who came before you have left you, those who could still hear the voice of God. You will travel the world and you will not find a man who can teach you to be a prophet.’
Jesus stopped his pacing to look at the sky. ‘For that I need no teacher…’ he said, ‘what I need is someone who can help me understand what I already see and hear!’
Gamaliel raised his brow. ‘What did you say? Are you telling me that you can hear the voice of God? That you think you are a prophet?’
Jesus closed his eyes, and let the meagre sun wash over his face a moment. ‘He speaks to me, and there are times I near understand it…times when I think I know what He says…’
‘What does he say?’ Gamaliel was breathless for his answer.
Jesus looked at him. ‘He tells me…that we have forgotten our Fathers in the heavens.’
Gamaliel took this in. He searched in his repertoire of answers for something that would make him seem wise and helpful but found nothing. After a moment, he settled for this,
‘If what you say is true, you should stay! You can teach others to hear the voice…in time, your teaching itself will make you wise, wiser than me, wiser even than my grandfather before me, for you will teach from experience!’
Jesus shook his head, wincing as if Gamaliel’s words were hurtful. ‘No! Stop! Don’t you see? I will be no greater and no wiser! I will become a dead man like you are becoming! Dead…’ He pointed to the Hall of Polished Stones, ‘like those men in the Sanhedrin who use cheap tricks and enchantments, incense, sacrifice and song to deceive the people and themselves!’
He reined in his temper then, and his face grew soft. The man who spoke now was so different that even his face appeared to have lost its dark shadows. ‘Forgive me master,’ he said, ‘I don’t mean to insult you. Just the opposite, I am grateful to you for helping me to understand that mine is a different destiny and that I must find a place where I can live it.’
Gamaliel was slighted and wounded…perhaps also a little envious. ‘I have listened to you throw in my face everything that I hold dear, everything that sustains our people!’ he said, quietly, angrily. ‘I hope your soul is not falling into heresy, for if you speak like this to others there is no telling what the priests will do. They can unmake a man with just one word!’
Jesus considered this and blinked and nodded, as if he were fixing these words to the nub of his heart. ‘The priests may unmake me and perhaps they will, that is true, but they can never unmake the truth. That, rabbi, is imperishable!’