Fifth Gospel(85)

‘My only treasure is gone!’ the woman cried. ‘My only son! Weep with us, rabbi, for our hearts are bitter!’

‘No,’ he gentled her, ‘no…do not weep, widow!’

She looked at him puzzled then. ‘How do you know I am a widow?’

Lazarus saw his master take himself to the wicker bier held by four men, and then saw him touch it with a hand.

‘Young man,’ he called, ‘I say to you…rise!’

All around, those who followed Jesus gasped, for it was not lawful for a rabbi to defile himself with the greatest of all defilements, contact with the dead. Some said that by overlooking this strict ordinance Jesus was demonstrating how great was the difference between him and the Pharisees and scribes. Others, those sent to keep a watch on his doings, spoke of arrogance and pride.

But Lazarus was not listening to these words, for he was hearing something else, something that had made his heart full, those words spoken by Jesus, words that had flowed out into space in rings and resonances and tones. They had drawn his attention to the youth, who having heard the command from beyond death, was now compelled to rise up from it.

When the young man sat up and the cloth fell from his face and he looked about, Lazarus was transfixed. At that moment time ebbed. The world of space darkened and was vanished leaving a pathway between Lazarus and the boy on the bier. This path was lit up by virtue of the effulgence that came from his master, and when his master looked at him, and at the same time pointed to the boy this is what he saw:

Lazarus saw molten fires and burnished metals, pyramids and ziggurats and wars fought. He saw great walls falling and the rebuilding of mighty temples. He saw the wisdom of kings and the love of queens. He saw the future, when he would be standing in a fortress on a great mountain, sequestered by the followers of this young man. This he knew would be an important life, and he understood how it would be prepared for him by this youth. Thus was made plain to him the web of destiny that was spun between them – and would last for all times.

All was noise and haze as the world returned.

And he knew in his heart this was his call.

‡

‘Who is that young man of Nain, Lea?’ I put down my quill and took up a new parchment.

‘He was born again, pairé, as Mani, the founder of your faith. Soon you will see why, through Mani, you are united with Lazarus.’

‘With Lazarus?’ I looked up, surprised.

‘Soon you will know it…do not be impatient! First we must speak of his sister again, for Mary Magdalene has found a use for her mother’s unguent…’





41


THE ALABASTER JAR




Since that experience in the field beneath the shading tree, Mary had carried her mother’s jar with her wherever she travelled, and it was with her now as she snuck out of the rooming house and made her way to the residence of Simon the Pharisee.

Months ago, when Mary and her sister heard Lazarus’ retelling of his experience at the Baptism of Jesus, they had felt a sense of destiny and had begged their brother to take them to Capernaum, to the place where Jesus taught and healed the people.

Mary’s only fear had been what she might see hovering over him. But she had not seen anything but light, and love, and life. A life so abundant that she understood instantly that she must offer herself up as his disciple. And yet, she had hesitated, for her malady continued to plague her and the words of the rabbi at Magadala, even after all these years, still echoed in her ears.

The courage to go to Jesus had only come this night, when she heard him say these words to those who needed healing:

Come unto me all who are heavy laden, all of you who are burdened and I will give you rest.

She thought of these words now, and warmth entered into her heart as she walked resolutely, clutching that jar made from cool translucent stone, which held her mother’s oil.

It seemed to her appropriate to use this oil in just this very jar to perform the most humbling act which she knew how to perform: to prostrate herself before him, to anoint his feet, and deliver her soul into his care. And it did not matter to her that her Lord was dining at a house that belonged to a well-known and respected Pharisee, among men of wealth and stature who might make fun of her and call her to account for her madness. She did not fear their opinion, nor indeed did she worry for her family’s shame! Something beyond these trivial things moved her legs. A sense of the wonder working magic of destiny had taken a hold, and it worked deeper than her doubts and fears, to fire up her limbs and to guide her up the steps, through the antechamber and an open door that led to the sumptuous and well-appointed dining hall.

The reception room was grandly lit, music played and servants hurried past, backwards and forwards, carrying food and drink to be laid out on the long table. She was dressed simply and could seem like one of them, and so she slipped in unnoticed. She was not prevented from finding Jesus at the table and from going to him where he was seated on a couch. She saw that he was in deep conversation with the Pharisee Simon, and with the other rabbis who were scattered amongst the closest disciples of Christ Jesus.