Claudia, Wife of Pontius Pilate: A Novel (21 page)

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D
oros was two and walking precariously with his crippled foot by the time they returned to Jerusalem. Hotep adored him and spent many hours entertaining the little boy.

The Jews were celebrating the Feast of Lights they called Hanukkah. It was one of the festivals that Claudia enjoyed the most. Their candelabras, which she learned were called
menorahs
, were everywhere in the courtyards and windows of homes.

Joanna brought Doros little gifts and told Claudia and Hotep the story of the Maccabees and their victory over the Greeks who had desecrated the Temple.

“We celebrate this miracle every year at Hanukkah and give gifts to our children—one for each day of the festival.”

At first Lucius had just frowned at the small gifts Joanna brought to the baby. Then he learned she had been gone from the castle, following the rabbi called Jesus to various places with other women. Chuza did not seem to object, but it infuriated Lucius.

“What man lets his wife travel around the country following some charlatan?”

Claudia remained silent. She knew Chuza looked upon the rabbi with an attitude bordering on reverence and was also a follower.

Today, the sixth day of Hanukkah, Joanna had brought Doros a
small top. When Lucius saw it that evening, he grabbed it from the little boy’s hand and flung it across the room, crying, “We are not Jews and we do not celebrate their holy days!”

Doros began to cry for his toy. His father turned from him in disgust and left the room.

Over the last year Claudia had observed a change in Lucius’s behavior toward the Jews. He was quick to persecute, even those professing innocence of the charges, and had no patience for the high priest or any of their requests. Word of corruption and violence trickled back to her and she began to view this man who was her husband in a different light. Had she been blind to these attributes?

She grieved at his impatience with Doros during what little time he spent with his son, and if Doros cried, Lucius left the room. Time and again Claudia would have to comfort the little boy when he reached his arms out to the receding figure of his father. She had prayed earnestly and sought the help of her gods to no avail.

She had just put Doros down for an afternoon nap when Hotep came hurrying in to her quarters. Claudia felt impatient herself and was about to scold her slave for being gone so long. Before she could upbraid, she realized Hotep’s eyes were shining and she was breathless.

“Domina. The rabbi you wanted to hear is teaching in the Temple courtyard. He is like no one I have ever heard before. You must come.”

A flicker of hope rose in Claudia’s heart. Perhaps she would hear something that would comfort her during this difficult time.

“I cannot go alone. Go and get Hadriana from the kitchen to stay with the baby. You must come with me.”

The girl left and hurried back with Hadriana, an older slave who watched Doros whenever Hotep accompanied her mistress. Claudia covered herself with a heavy cloak that hid her face and clothing so she would not be recognized, and slipped out of the palace. They followed the crowds across the city to the Temple, and Claudia almost shook with fear of being recognized as she and Hotep climbed the stairs to the Court of the Women in the Temple courtyard.

She found a shadowed place in the crowded courtyard behind a pillar to watch and listen. The man who was speaking was perhaps in his thirties. His hair curled down over his shoulders and his eyes roved over the crowd as he made each point. It was as if he were speaking to each person individually and yet to all. His voice resonated over the crowd with ease as the people listened respectfully to his teaching. Not even the cry of a baby broke the silence of his listeners.

“You have heard it said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that? Even corrupt tax collectors do that much. If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from everyone else? Even pagans do that. But you are to be perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect.”

Claudia listened in astonishment. How could one be perfect unless they were a god? Only gods were perfect. She looked around at the listening faces. These were to be perfect? She shook her head in consternation.

The rabbi continued, pointing a verbal finger at the Pharisees. “When you give to someone in need, don’t do as the hypocrites do—blowing trumpets in the synagogues and streets to call attention to their acts of charity . . .”

There was a ripple of amusement through the crowd. Claudia smiled also. She had observed some of the priests in the marketplace doing just that. This rabbi had the crowd’s full attention.

“I tell you the truth, that is all the reward they will ever get. But when you give to someone in need, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing. Give your gifts in private, and your Father, who sees everything, will reward you.”

Claudia took the words to heart. This rabbi said to love your enemies. She despised some of the things Lucius was doing. Was he her enemy? He ruled over her and had the power of life and death over
his family, yet he had treated her well and she knew he loved her. It was Doros that she feared for. Would he grow up like his father? Was Lucius resenting the fact that his son had a deformed foot after all? She brushed the trying thoughts away and concentrated again on what the rabbi was saying.

The rabbi talked about storing up treasures in heaven rather than on earth, and she realized he was talking about eternal life. “Wherever your treasure is,” he intoned, “there the desires of your heart shall be.”

He went on to teach about money and worry and judging others. Claudia listened and her heart was stirred. His teaching was different from any she had heard. He was not a scribe or a teacher of the Law, yet he taught with the ring of authority.

When he had finished his teaching, people began to bring the sick to him. He laid hands on each of them and they were instantly healed. Claudia nearly gasped out loud.

Hotep had been cautioned not to call her “Domina” in public lest she call attention to them, but Hotep whispered fiercely in her ear, “Is he not wonderful?”

Claudia nodded, unable to speak for what she was seeing.

As the shadows crept up the walls of the Temple, Jesus rose and, with his disciples, walked through the crowd that parted for him and left the courtyard. Claudia, realizing she had been gone too long, hurried with her handmaid through the city toward the palace. In the marketplace she stopped and hastily bought a set of combs for her hair. She must have some excuse for her absence.

When she and Hotep returned to the palace, Claudia faced an irate husband. “Where have you been? No one in the palace has seen you.” His eyes blazed with suspicion.

“Dearest, I grieve that you were worried. I wished to go to the marketplace and Hotep accompanied me. Sometimes I feel so confined.” She held out the combs, wrapped in a small piece of linen. “Are these not beautiful?”

He sighed. “Yes, they are beautiful, but you must be careful. There
are many in the city who chafe at my rule here. They would like nothing better than to find my wife alone in the city.” He moved closer and his dark eyes pierced hers. “I could not bear it if anything happened to you.” He tipped her chin with one finger. “I will see you at dinner.”

When he was gone, she hurried up to her quarters and clasped her small son to her. He was weeping, having awakened without finding her. Hadriana hurried back to the kitchen, her lips tight with disapproval.

Claudia did not go again to hear Jesus before she and Lucius left Jerusalem to return to Caesarea. She gathered reports on the places he spoke—the hills of Galilee, Capernaum, Jericho, Perea, and Samaria. She could only hope that the next time they returned to Jerusalem, Jesus would again come to the Temple. Reports also came to her of the Pharisees and the Sadducees, who dogged his footsteps, asking questions and accusing him of everything from blasphemy to being used by Shatan to work his miracles. This puzzled her. Someone who did the kind of miracles he did could not be evil. She heard of the blind being given their sight and the deaf hearing and those that were lame walking. A thought began to form in the back of her mind as she watched her small son struggle to stand with his deformed foot. She was not Jewish and Jesus was speaking to his own people. Would he be willing to pray for Doros? She dismissed the idea, for if she went with Doros, she would have to not only reveal herself but humble herself before this itinerant rabbi.

Before they returned to Jerusalem in the spring for Passover, the city buzzed with talk of a major miracle Jesus had done. He had actually raised a man from the dead. A friend by the name of Lazarus had been in the tomb four days before Jesus had arrived in Bethany. Word spread through the city of other people, long dead, who had been seen walking about, and those who believed argued with those who were skeptical. Claudia sent for Jeremiah.

He’d barely lowered himself gingerly on the end of the stone bench
when she asked, “What is this I hear about the rabbi who has raised a man from the dead?”

Instead of the angry retort she expected from his past reactions to Jesus, Jeremiah had a different look on his face. His eyes glowed with an inner light as he gazed at her. “My lady, I must confess that this Jesus is not what I thought he was. I was there in Bethany when Jesus came. I had come to pay my respects to the sisters of Lazarus. They were grieved that he was too late to heal their brother, but he went to the tomb with them and merely called out, ‘Lazarus, come forth.’” Jeremiah’s voice broke and there were tears in his eyes. “My lady, Lazarus walked out of that tomb. I knew then that Jesus was who he said he was. All my doubts were erased. He is indeed the Son of God, the Messiah.”

Claudia stared at him. Jeremiah was a changed man. Her heart felt heavy in her chest. What hope was there for her? She was Roman and her husband was the governor of Judea. He had persecuted the Jews. This Jesus would not accept her plea for her son.

She thanked Jeremiah and sent him away, then slowly went upstairs to her quarters. Part of her wanted to cry out her frustration, but she did not wish to upset Doros or Hotep. The boy had no playmates, for Lucius would not allow him to associate with other children due to his foot. He began to withdraw into himself. His long periods of quiet concerned her.

She moved to the window and looked out a long time toward Jerusalem. Lucius had not forbidden her to hear Jesus, but she had not told him where she had really gone that day.