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Chapter Twenty-Five
The countryside
viewed from our starting point at Ecbatana to our destination at Taurus was
much more diverse than the endless sand dunes and dry, featureless gullies and
hillocks I suffered in the desert.
The palms and acacia oases of the Parthian Empire gradually gave way to
forests of cedar, oak, and pine when we crossed over the frontier into northern
Syria and the Roman Empire. There
were many small towns along the way that were filled with people similar in
appearance to peasants living in Nazareth. The Roman presence in the north was much greater than in the
south. Processions of legionnaires
passed us on the way, and yet there was not the hostility I had seen in Galilee
against the Romans because most of the villagers were Gentiles, not Jews. During the remainder of our journey,
Elisha and his friends continued to coach me in the proper attitude about the
Hebrew faith, and I, in turn, continued to present to the guards my
interpretation of the Torah (minus the law). Like Absalom I hated the letter of the law. The spirit of the law, which included
the Word, was another matter, and yet left out of my lectures out of respect
for my benefactor, was Jesus’ notions of the Word, constant revelation, and the
universal God. As far as my
physical training, I knew enough about weaponry to be able to slacken off on my
practice. It wouldn’t do for me to
have Elisha see me practicing with my invisible sword and spear. In addition to my self-styled role as
tutor to the guards and devoted student to Elisha, Jacob, and Nedinijah, I
found time, under the watchful eyes of Absalom and Laban, to slip away and
explore the land. In addition to
being my pupils and onetime trainers, they became, at Elisha’s insistence, my
bodyguards. At no time, as I
strolled into the woods or searched for rock art in nearby caves, was I out of
earshot or visual range, which was fine with me. My experience with Hamid and his men had made me fearful of
strangers. It was the absence of
such protectors and my own foolishness that allowed me to be captured and
almost turned into a slave.
When I wasn’t with the Pharisee, scribe, steward, or
my friends, I would visit my mule to make sure he was fit and ready for the
road. The guard on watch had one
less animal to care for, each time I fed, watered, and brushed him down. Often, I looked after my other mules as
well. One day, as I stood beside
my mule with Absalom looking on, a century of Romans galloped toward on us on
the rode. Upon seeing this
spectacle, I felt an immediate tug at my heart. This had been one of my dreams. The officer in front, who rode a big white horse, wore the
sideways helmet of a centurion. I
was reminded of Cornelius, the prefect of the Galilean Cohort and also
Longinus, his first centurion.
What also excited me was the sight of the centurion’s horse. In my childhood I had fantasized about
such a beast. I had, in my
fantasies, a shiny helmet, cape and sword just like this rider, but most
importantly I had his white horse.
As we watched them pass by, I told Absalom about the dreams I once had
about my faithful steed. Absalom,
though he was a military man himself, was also a Jew and therefore puzzled by
such as dream.
“Thaddeus,” he scowled as the Romans disappeared in
a cloud of dust, “I see nothing wrong with this goal for a Gentile, but you’re
a Jew. It didn’t work for
you. From what you told me about
your treatment at the Galilean fort and your journey with Decimus and his men,
you’ll never fit in. We guards
have a live and let live philosophy of life, and yet we, too, could never serve
Rome by virtue of whom we are: Jews.”
“But I fought with them,” I argued gently,
“and I learned all the important duties of a soldier, from fighting to setting
up camp.”
“You were with a band of misfits,” concluded
Absalom. “The only ones in that group you told me about who were actually
legionnaires had been put in charge of a band of veterans, auxilia, and one
inexperienced Jew. You never
explained to me about the purpose of this venture. Why were all these men mustered out at the same time?” “It
sounds to me, Thaddeus,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “you left something out.”
As I stroked my mule, I uttered a nervous
laugh. I had no intention of
admitting that the auxilia and veterans murdered fleeing and disarmed
Jews. What would that tell him
about me? Consequently, as
cleverly as possible, I told him a half-truth, which was, Jesus once explained
to me, also a half-lie.
“The purpose of our trip was threefold,” I replied,
gazing into space. “The auxilia being sent north were being reassigned. The veterans were old men, one still
nursing a wound. All three were
being retired. I was sent with
them because they didn’t want me at the fort. At first, therefore, the only misfit in the group was me,
yet we learned to work together. I
won over all my detractors in the group, even the ones who couldn’t accept me
at first. I mourn the loss of
those men. I’m very fortunate to
be alive.”
My teacher Gamaliel had once told his students that
the best answer is a simple one.
My answer had been as short and to the point as possible. I also tried to look Absalom squarely
in the eyes without my pupils darting around, which was, Jesus told me, the
best indicator for the truth. The
parts I left out about these men were merely lies of omission. Though Jesus believed these were
falsehood, too, what I had told Absalom was the truth. It was true that most of the auxilia
and veterans were being transferred for reassignment or retirement. That was enough. With the exception of Decimus, Aulus,
and Vesto, the fact that they were undesirables, most of whom had been
cashiered from the Galilean cohort and faced uncertain futures, was none of
Absalom’s business. After a moment
of silence, he shrugged his shoulders.
To my great relief, he changed the subject entirely.
“You and that mule have been through a lot.”
“Yes.” I sighed. “I love the beast. He’s more than a means of travel to
me. He’s my friend. He goes wherever I go. We’re inseparable.”
Absalom frowned thoughtfully. “What are you going to
do when we arrive in Tarsus? Have
you a plan?”
“No, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I answered
candidly. “Before all this,” I added, pointing south, “I had it planned out: I
would be a soldier scribe. My
weapon would be the quill, I would wear the raiment of a legionnaire with a
flowing cape and ride a big white horse.
Now, if Elisha has his way, I’ll use my gifts to be a Pharisee like
himself or become doctor of the law.”
“You’re not gonna do that, Thaddeus.” Absalom shook
his head. “You’re a free spirit, like me, but the fact is you’re still a
Jew. You have, in eyes of Elisha
and his friends, blood on your hands.
You’ve been polluted after living a Gentile’s life. The first thing they want to do is have
you purified in the temple. After
that Elisha, who has only daughters, will probably take you into his household
and try to mold you into a proper Jew.
You’ll never be a proper Jew, Thaddeus. So before that happens, you must slip away, as I did as a
youth. If you can, hire yourself
out to a merchant heading toward Galilee or find a ship going south. If that doesn’t work out, report to the
Antioch fort. Wasn’t that was your
original plan? Who knows, after
you give them your story, they might, if nothing else, give you an escort
home. Because no one else from
your band arrived at their destination and you’re the only one who survived,
you’re sort of a hero. The fact is
you must, sooner or later, go home.
You have people who love you, which is more than I have. What you do between now and then is up
to you, but go home!”
This was, I thought wistfully, the same advice
Decimus, Aulus, and Caesarius gave me at the beginning of my adventure. It was as if this plainspoken guard had
read my mind. Absalom was right,
of course, but it was a long way from Tarsus to Nazareth. Much could happen between. It seemed as if everything I had done
after leaving my home was purest folly, and yet I was excited about the unknown
road ahead.
******
A large caravan required more stops than ordinary
travel. There were far more
matters to attend to for camels laden with goods. In addition to honoring the Sabbath, added rest periods and
overnight stops were required by the Pharisee because of the rigors of the
road. The northern highway, though
much safer to travel than the south, presented many potholes and uneven cobbles
in our path, often making our trip a bumpy and jarring ride. During my experience on my way to
Antioch and as a prisoner in the desert, such stops were relatively few and far
between. Because we were no longer
in hostile land, it was much more reasonable to poke along. For Romans, the most important reason
for haste, when riding through unfriendly territory, was safety, the object
being to ride through the day and, with few breaks, stop at night. As I experienced with Decimus’ company,
the rule of daytime travel was broken because our belief that Bedouins feared
the dark. We also traveled through
the night to make up for lost time.
For bandits, of course, there was no actual destination, except base
camp. Raids were made in the
daytime and, like most superstitious Bedouins, the bandits avoided traveling in
the night and made camp whenever they wished. Unfortunately, for my companions and I, they had probably
been dogging our trail for quite some time. It had only been a matter of time.
We were in a safer climate now, however. There were frequent towns with water
and food, Roman soldiers, in increasing numbers, appeared on the northern
highway, and yet we moved at a snail’s pace, sometimes barely a few Roman miles
a day. I understood the
difficulties of caravan travel, but with so many pauses and overnighters on the
way, it seemed as though it would never end. When we approached the port city of Tarsus, I was gratified
to once again see the Great Sea.
Unfortunately, it was almost sundown and we were forced to make camp one
more time in order to begin our journey at first light.
I was excited about our destination. Though Jesus never mentioned Tarsus in
his travels, Elisha warned me of the evils of this town. Unlike Jerusalem and Sepphoris, it was,
with the exception of its Jewish quarter, thoroughly pagan. According to my benefactor, Tarsus was
an imperial city, which was a mixed blessing. All of its residents were Roman citizens and had more rights
than non-citizens but also paid more taxes. Counterbalancing the evils that Elisha saw in Tarsus (pagan
temples, profane statues, and public baths), was it’s reputation as a center of
learning that rivaled Athens and Alexandria. Unfortunately, as the Pharisee saw it, we had to travel
through the “evil” part of the city before reaching the Jewish quarter where
his client resided. It was typical
of the merchant half of Elisha, who wanted me to purified in our temple, that
he would risk polluting his Pharisee-half in such a town.
I listened to Elisha discuss with Jacob and
Nedinijah how we would approach the merchant Zared bar Ephraim’s estate at the
first brush of dawn to avoid the crowds on the main street, and I suppressed a
smile. Perhaps they thought my
eyes would be offended by the temple priests and the naked statuary Jesus had
seen in Rome and Greece. I was
stripped naked, myself, and sold as a slave after going through something far
more obscene than any sculpture or other work of men. It was the Pharisee’s plan to slip in and out, both times at
sunrise, to avoid the traffic of shoppers, tourists, and priests, but I learned
from Absalom that night that it was a more basic emotion than religious
scruples: fear. Absalom
explained to me before we fell asleep that word had come to Elisha that the
Greek inhabitants of Tarsus were upset about the recent conscription of Greek
men and deferment given Jews because of their religion. Normally, the Greeks got along well with
the Jewish minority, but the Governor of Cilicia required additional troops on
the frontier because of recent Parthian incursions. I had seen first hand in Lower and Upper Galilee and also
the lands north of Galilee how sparse were Roman forces and remembered Jesus
telling me about how the Greeks of Alexandria resented the Jews special
position in Egypt.
******
That night I had another dream. Unlike previous dreams in which I saw
dark visions or heard an ominous voice, the message was peaceful, similar to my
recent vision of Jesus working in the shop. This time, however, my brothers were in the shop with
him. They were quarrelling with
each other. Since I had, in real
life, seen my brothers squabbling, the scene didn’t alarm me, until I noticed
something I had missed before. My
father wasn’t in the picture.
“Where is our father?” I called out to Joseph and Simon. (James, I recalled, was in Jerusalem
studying with Nicodemus.) “Why
isn’t Papa in the shop?” I called out again. There was no response, even when I repeated my questions at
the top of my lungs. Suddenly, I
was no longer in a lucid dream. It
was as if I was a ghost visiting my previous life. When I tried to embrace Jesus, my hands passed through
him. No matter how much I
attempted to get their attention they continued to argue. Jesus was telling Joseph that he
couldn’t leave home yet; he and Simon were needed in the shop. Joseph had a pack on his back as if he
was that very moment ready to take to the road. Simon, I noticed that moment, was suddenly absent, after
slipping away to avoid his chores.
Where were my mother and my twin sisters, I wondered, as I walked toward
the house? Tabitha, our adopted
sister was also absent. What had
happened to my family while I was gone?
That moment I sensed something much more serious than
the quarrel in the shop. My
intention was to open the front door, but when I reached for the handle, I
froze, backed away and called out in a shaky voice, “Mama, Papa, it’s me Jude.
I’ve come home. A head popped out
of the window curtains, startling me out of my wits then, like a Syrian puppet,
it disappeared without a word.
“Mama,” I cried. “Open the door?”
“Who is it Mary?” I heard my father ask in a rasping voice. “Jude, the
great traveler,” she answered with great sarcasm. “Where was he when you needed
him? Soon all of our sons will
have left, leaving poor Jesus to manage our business alone.” “Let me in!” I shouted, pounding on the
door. “I’m here now. I’ve come
home!” As I beat on the boards,
the scene around me faded to black as dreams do. I tumbled helplessly through the porthole of sleep, awakening
in an almost pitch black tent.
Looking around in the darkness, still grappling with
the message in my dream, I saw the glimmer of a night lantern through the
flaps, recognizing the outline of a sentry making his rounds. I wanted to jump up that very moment,
run to the Pharisee, and tell him about my dream, but that would convince him I
was touched in the head. No, I
told myself, as I tried falling back asleep, I would explain the urgency in the
simplest terms. I think Elisha
would understand. I’m homesick,
which was true. If he plodded
along as he done before, I would, if I had to, slip away and, with my mule,
strike out on my own. If it was
necessary, I might even have to tell Elisha about my dream.
“Dear Lord,” I whispered, “enlighten my
benefactor. Give him a sign. Hasten the caravan so Elisha will get
his business done and turn south!”
Despite my misgivings, I fell back to sleep. When I awakened the next morning, I
staggered out yawning and rubbing my eyes. The camp was struck quickly. We all grabbed a hunk of bread and piece of cheese. I checked on my mule and then, after
making water, joined Elisha and his friends in the coach. I had enough of riding on the hard
Roman saddle. The guards rode up
and down the procession inspecting and protecting the caravan. With lanterns held high to navigate
until the first rays of sunlight, Absalom and Laban led us down the main
street, with Eden on top steering our carriage. There were only a few citizens about, which had been the
reason why we left at first light.
Now in dawn’s light it was our purpose to reach the client’s estate
before the human traffic was great.
As was his habit, Elisha chatted with Jacob and Nedinijah about the business
ahead, as if I wasn’t there, then, on occasion, acknowledged my presence with a
congenial smile or nod.
“Sir,” I blurted as we approached the Jewish
quarter, “I regret my foolishness which resulted in my captivity, and I’m
eternally thankful to you for saving my life, but my family needs me. I must go home!”
“I know Thaddeus.” He reached over to pat my knee.
“That’s as it should be. When we
reach Antioch, I’ll arrange an escort to Galilee. Antioch is where I live.”
“Really?” I gasped. “Antioch’s your
town?” “The Lord provides!” I
closed my eyes.
“Indeed,” Elisha said with a chuckle, “you’ll be
home soon.”
“Wouldn’t it be faster if he traveled by ship?”
suggested Jacob. “It takes so long to travel by land.”
“Not necessarily.” The Pharisee shook his head. “It
takes time to find passage, and I don’t want Thaddeus traveling alone.”
I nodded vigorously in agreement. I was, because of my ordeal, afraid to
be alone. There was, of course,
another reason why I wanted to travel on land: my mules. It was explained to me by Absalom that
cargo-laden ships wouldn’t have enough room for personal pets. If I wanted to travel by sea, I would
have to leave Gladius and the other mules behind. This I couldn’t do.
Gladius had been my most faithful companion. Everyone, who saw me dote on Gladius in camp, understood
this. I also felt protective of
the other mules, who had been with me throughout my journey. Traveling by ship, I told Jacob
politely, was out of the question.
Behind my request to go home was my recent dream, and yet my
priorities—protecting my mule and my own safety—lessened the urgency. In Elisha’s mind I was just
homesick. How could I tell him
that, based upon a dreamscape, I thought my father might be ill? Because I hadn’t told him the truth, I
wondered if he would continue moving as slowly as before.
As if he had forgotten what he said to me this hour,
he and Jacob discussed possible business stops in the nearby cities of Mallus
and Adana before returning home.
They would be quick trips, Elisha reassured me. I could stay with Zared while they were
away. It shouldn’t take more
than a week. I wasn’t surprised. Elisha was a businessman as was Joseph
of Arimathea, my brother’s benefactor.
I would be stranded for an indeterminate period of time as Elisha and
Zared, his intermediary, haggled over business and the merchandise found its
way to shops in town. As Elisha
sought other clients, my trip home would be postponed even longer. As we entered the Jewish quarter, I
stifled the urge to tell him the truth.
How could I explain it to this narrow-minded man? He scarcely believed my other
stories. Would he believe a vision
I had in a dream? I couldn’t wait
much longer. I had to try.
I tried rehearsing the words in my head: “According
to a dream I had sir, my father’s sick.
It could be the wine again or something much worse. I heard Jesus arguing with my brothers
who were about to run away. If my
father’s sick and Jesus has to run the business by himself, my family will need
me to help in the shop.” It
sounded reasonable enough to me, and it was the truth, but the words never
came. I couldn’t bring myself to
utter what was, in fact, a dream.
My only other option I realized, if I didn’t want to wait, was to
separate my mules from the other pack animals and slip away in the dead of
night—a notion that filled me with dread.
That moment residents of the wealthy portion of the quarter came out of their homes to gawk at the great caravan as we approached Zared bar Ephraim’s estate. Then suddenly, as the caravan and coach drew finally to a stop, my impulse to tell Elisha the truth vanished in the morning breeze. I followed the other men out and stood there as the camels moved ahead into Zared’s stables before we were led on foot through a smaller gate up to a great mansion on the hill. A feeling came over me in the chilly Cilician air, as would a warm desert breeze. If nothing else now, I was in good hands. Wordlessly it seemed, the Spirit of the Lord (or perhaps the honeyed wine Elisha and his associates shared with me in the carriage) gave me counsel. It seemed to say stay put, be patient, and bide your time for a short while longer before making your next move. I just hoped it would be soon!”
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