A bewildering change had come over Jesus, a change that could not be explained. Suddenly, the backward boy was speaking eloquently, thinking unclouded thoughts and even arguing the law with the rabbis! How had he come by such cleverness? Even Jesus’ coloured eyes had flecked with his brother’s intelligence! He had grown certain that Jesus had stolen Yeshua’s soul and taken it for his own by some strange magic.
This had lived in him as a child, but as an adult he had buried these suspicions, jealousies and hatreds deep below his thoughts, concentrating on his destiny and his work with the Essenes. But now, on his journeys, when he took refuge at inns and khans, these feelings began to surface again. For in these places Jacob found himself taken for another man, a man from Nazareth who had sat with the innkeepers and with the poor and the lowly – a man who had made such an impression on them that at times, when the firelight was soft and the conversation turned mellow, he seemed to be among them. Jacob had been full of misery to learn the man’s name – Jesus.
To add to his woes, when he finally returned to his home, he learned that the Essene elders had begun to train their eyes on his stepbrother, and had invited him to Engaddi on his own terms! And so his deep-seated spite drove him to visit his stepbrother, to have it out with him.
The home of Jesus was simple but skilfully built. It was set away from other houses, amongst a grove of olive trees, with a small garden and a place for the animals and for work. This day, Jesus was in the carpenter’s workshop and Jacob stood a long time watching him from behind a tree, trying to find the courage to confront him.
Watching Jesus busy with his work reminded Jacob of a life grown distant to his mind. And as he watched the angle of Jesus’ head, half-turned to the light of the morning sun, began to play a trick of his eyes. Jesus’ face began to grow about it the likeness of Davidic descent, and Jacob was taken aback by it – for was this not a reflection of his dead brother? His mind told him it could not be so, he was falling once again into the delusions of his childhood, and yet…and yet…his heart could not deny what his eyes were seeing!
A pain tore his soul from its hiding hole, so that it stood before him, perfectly clear and visible to his eyes. He saw himself as a despised creature, full of snakes and vipers in his heart. He understood the reason for his failure at Engaddi – he had not managed to purify his diseased soul!
He left without a word to Jesus, and made his way to the Nazarite caves in Judea where he hoped to burn away his earthly failings and self-loathing through a regime of fasting and solitude.
He spent long months living in these caves, grappling with himself, and yet he did not find himself altered. Finally, defeated and on his way to Jerusalem again word reached him of a man who was baptising for the remission of sins. He was baptising in that place where an arm of the Jordan formed a bend in the river and created a clear, still pool. Crowds were gathered on the riverbank, men and women, even children, stood listening to the words of the baptiser. The baptiser was broad-made and tall. He wore a garment of camel hair over his chest and a girdle of skin about his loins and stood waist deep in the water. His eyes were dark and troubled, his hair was auburn, long and unkempt but when he spoke his voice was full of authority, an authority beyond the world and its men.
He told the people that the kingdom in the heavens was approaching the earth. He spoke of the Messiah who would soon come to redeem the errors of men. He said he would be able to recognise Him when he came, and so would all those who made pure their souls and repented their sins.
After that, men wearing only loincloths clambered towards the water to enter the cool depths of the river. They were completely immersed in the water and when they surfaced Jacob saw them gasp like newborns. And when they walked past him, he saw the edifying and majestic inner change apparent on their faces.
Jacob, loaded with a consciousness of his sins, heard the call of the river. He heard the murmur of pleasure and the cry of sorrow; the thunder of righteousness and the shame of wrongdoing. He heard the laments of mourning and the sighing for lost dreams. He heard stories of envy, murder, adultery and false witness. He heard of heresies, robberies and lusts. The river, for its part, chorused and harmonised these deaths and rebirths until all sin was turned to its opposite.
In his heart Jacob felt an urgent pull to join his voice to the river’s voice, to immerse his failings in the healing waters and to surface again free from them; free from the festering and the spoilt deeps inside him. This was the redemption he had been seeking! Perhaps, free of his jealousy and covetousness he might find the path to his destiny?