The Crown and the Cross: The Life of Christ (11 page)

Only much later did the six understand Jesus’ next words: “Most assuredly, I say to you, hereafter you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

Jesus turned and started along the road that led to Galilee, none of them questioning Him further. There had been something in His face when He spoke, a glory and yet a sadness coming from depths within this man to whom they had been so powerfully drawn, depths which they sensed they could not fathom.

As John the Baptist watched Jesus depart with the six Galileans who had been among his staunchest followers, he could not help feeling lonely. His own place upon the stage of events had now been taken by another and his star was on the wane.

About seven and a half miles north of Nazareth near a fine spring giving an ample supply of water lay the village of Cana. Nathanael, also called Bartholomew, lived there. Since Cana was on a fairly well-traveled road between Magdala, which lay south of Capernaum on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee, and Ptolemais, or Akka, on the coast of the Great Sea, Jesus and His friends had turned westward at Magdala, leaving the lake to the east. Nazareth lay nearby but when He reached home, Jesus found that His family was at Cana helping celebrate the wedding feast of a kinsman.

Since the sons of Zebedee also were kin to the bridegroom, they all went on to Cana from which it was only a short day’s walk to Capernaum where Simon Peter lived, and the fishermen could go on there tomorrow.

Mary had been busy all day at the home of their kinsman preparing for the festivities. When Jesus arrived, she welcomed Him warmly and was pleased to see Him in the company of friends and kinsmen. She had been worried when He had left so abruptly for Bethabara and Jerusalem, but now He was back and, as far as she could see at the moment, no different from what He had been before. It was true, she thought, that the men who accompanied Him were oddly deferential to Him, but for a long time now in Nazareth Jesus had been known by the title of Teacher or Rabbi, and that no doubt explained it.

Marriage was both an occasion of joy and gravity with the Galileans. Since ancient times the same ritual had been rigidly followed in the small villages and towns. First came negotiations between the families of the bride and groom during which the various details were agreed upon, including the amount of the “bride price” or
mohar
to be paid to the father of the bride. According to custom, most of the
mohar
was given to the bride by her father, to serve as her dowry and be put away in case she became a widow.

On the day of the wedding the bridegroom, wearing a crown of bright-colored flowers, marched through the town with a procession of friends who were also garlanded. The young people sang and danced and clashed cymbals along the way to drive away evil spirits by letting them know this was a wedding procession and not a funeral. After the groom had taken his bride to his home, the wedding feast was celebrated, usually until late at night. At the conclusion of the feast, the groom would carry his bride over the doorsill of the bedchamber and the ceremony would be ended.

Cana was a small village and the arrival of Jesus and those who had come with Him filled almost to overflowing the house where the feast was being held. Before long the skins of wine—always well diluted with water at such festivities—which the bridegroom had considered adequate for the feast were empty. When such a thing happened at a marriage feast, it not only brought disgrace upon the groom for being unable to provide for his guests but also was considered an ill omen with which to start married life.

Concern over the shame that would come upon their kinsman brought Mary to Jesus when the wine was used up.

“They have no wine,” she said. As the head of their household, it was Jesus’ duty to do whatever He could to insure that no shame came to the family. Besides, His own arrival with the six Galileans had been largely responsible for the shortage. On the other hand, He could hardly travel to Nazareth and bring wine for a feast that was already well in progress, and it was much too late to buy more now.

Jesus was fully conscious of His own responsibility as a kinsman, yet He knew that once the only step open to Him was taken, there could be no going back for long to the quiet of the house in Nazareth and the music of children’s laughter as they listened to the stories He told.

Mary had instructed the servants to do whatever Jesus bade and He saw that they were waiting now for His bidding. There was plenty of water; thick stone waterpots stood ready, each partly filled as was required for the ritual purification by devout Jews before eating, and other containers had also been filled by the women in anticipation of the feast.

“Fill the waterpots with water,” Jesus told the servants.

They were quickly filled but it was still water, having been poured from the very jars in which the women had brought it from the spring.

“Draw some out now, and take it to the master of the feast,” He directed them.

The servants obeyed Him, wondering what strange game this was where a man pretended that water was wine. He might convince Himself that it was wine, but the thirsty Galileans would raise an outcry the moment they tasted it and found only water. Customarily the first bowl of any new mixture was brought to the master in charge of the feast so that he could taste it and be sure it was of a quality to be served at so important a function. The master of the feast took the cup from his lips and nodded to the servants to go ahead and serve the wine.

But there was a frown on his face as he went to find the bridegroom. “Every man at the beginning sets out the good wine,” he said severely, for it was bad to break a precedent. “When the guests have well drunk, then the inferior wine is served. But you have kept the good wine until now!”

The bridegroom could not explain what had happened, but the servants knew and were not long in making the story known. Word quickly spread that He who had been known as a carpenter of Nazareth had accomplished the miracle of turning water into wine. The gaiety of the feast now was quickly replaced by fear, and being afraid, the people resented Him who was responsible for their uncertainty. By the time the feast ended, Jesus, who had sought only to keep shame from His kinsman, was being shunned by the crowd.

What had been done at Cana that night, however, was soon noised abroad. There could be no going back now to the quiet life in Nazareth that Jesus had loved so much. From henceforth His sphere of activity was to be an ever-widening one, like the circular ripples that spread from the dropping of a stone into the center of a pool.

And rose up and thrust Him out of the city; and they led Him to the brow of the hill on which their city was built, that they might throw Him down over the cliff.

Luke 4:29

Unlike John the Baptist, who had preached in a natural amphitheater under the trees at Bethabara, Jesus taught at first in the synagogues where the people gathered to worship God on the Sabbath and during the weekday services. In every town where any large number of Jews lived, some building or portion of it was set apart as a place of worship. Where a village was small and contained only a few devout Jews, worship services were held in a house. Everywhere, the internal arrangements were generally the same.

The men sat on benches occupying the main floor of the building, while the women were restricted to a gallery protected by a wooden lattice. In the center of the main floor was a small elevated platform called the
bima
and upon it the desk or
luach
, from which the Law was read.

Praying toward the east was forbidden by the Law, so the entrance to a synagogue was usually on the eastern side with the congregation facing away from this direction. The ark, a cabinet in which the scrolls of the Torah were kept, was usually against the south wall with the seats for the elders before it. Generally the gallery for the women was at the north end. Over the lintel of the door a carving usually ornamented the wood or stone of which the structure was built. Sometimes this was the traditional seven-branched candlestick, but an open flower set between two lambs of the Passover, bunches of grapes, vines, leaves, or occasionally a pot of manna such as the Children of Israel had fed upon in the wilderness could serve instead.

According to the Law, no synagogue could be erected in a village unless there were ten batlanim, men who could spare the time to oversee the worship and administration. In practice there was usually no difficulty here, for attendance at worship was a privilege highly regarded by the Jews.

On the evening before the Sabbath, each household prepared for the coming day of worship. The Sabbath lamp was lit and the best raiment put out to be worn on the morrow. The table was set with the best meal of the week and the
qiddush
or benediction spoken over a cup of wine liberally diluted with water, which was then drunk. On the Sabbath morning the devout hastened with quick steps to the house of worship, showing their eagerness to serve the Lord; by ancient usage the returning gait was always slow and lagging, expressing regret at leaving.

Although the chazan was officially the leader of the congregation, the elders or rulers, called the
zeqenim
, were the most honored members. They also formed the local court or Sanhedrin, and were responsible to the Great Sanhedrin at Jerusalem in both religious and civil disputes.

The Sabbath devotions were opened by chanting a series of prayers which began: “Blessed are You, O Lord, King of the world, who forms the light and creates the darkness, who makes peace and creates everything.” They ended with: “Blessed be the Lord who in love chose His people Israel.” Following this, the
Shema
, or creed, was recited. In it the worshiper willingly took upon himself the yoke of the kingdom of heaven and the yoke of the commandments. Other eulogies and benedictions followed with such special prayers as the season or occasion dictated.

The liturgy finished, the chazan removed the roll of the Law from the ark where it was kept, and various persons chosen for the day read portions of it. Selections from the scroll of the prophets were also read, usually by the teacher who was to deliver the main address or sermon during the remainder of the worship period.

Most of the congregation, especially in Galilee, neither spoke nor understood Hebrew well, so an interpreter known as the methurgeman, or more colloquially a dragoman, translated the words into the Aramaic language. He was not allowed to use a written translation, lest it become regarded as authoritative, but rendered the Hebrew into the common tongue at each service. Actually the members of the congregation were usually quite familiar with the passage being read, and the methurgeman gave the translations in a brief and almost synoptic form.

When a popular rabbi was preaching, the synagogue was usually filled to overflowing. And since teachers customarily went from place to place for the purpose of giving the sermon, or
derashah
, the presence of a visiting rabbi was not at all uncommon. The rare simplicity of Jesus’ sermons had a wide appeal, and even before the miracle at Cana He was already well known as a teacher in Nazareth and the surrounding area. Neither interlarding His discourse with complicated references to details of the Law nor speaking condescendingly as did the Pharisees, He taught simply but clearly the lessons of man’s duty to God and how that duty should be discharged. Referring often to the ancient writings of the Jews, He drew new interpretations from them which were easily understood by everyone.

In less than a day’s journey from His regular dwelling place in Nazareth, Jesus could easily reach most of the centers around Galilee where He spoke on the Sabbath. The six Galileans who had left John the Baptist to follow Him had gone back to their homes and their daily tasks after the wedding feast at Cana, so He was usually alone as He moved about. He had not performed any further miracles but His forthright preaching that “the time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel” found eager ears here just as when John had spoken much the same words in the wilderness at the fords of the Jordan.

For a brief period after the miracle at Cana, there was no marked change in Jesus’ life or work. Then two things happened which considerably affected both. The first also occurred at Cana.

Herod Antipas was a rich man. Having inherited great wealth from his father, he had shrewdly invested much of it in lush vineyards and fields around the Sea of Galilee and among the rich valley lands beside the Jordan. He was fortunate in being served by many honest and capable men, not the least of whom was Chuza, his steward in the region around Capernaum. Conscientious, capable, and pious, Chuza managed to serve his master well and at the same time earn the respect of his fellows for his honesty and business acumen.

Chuza had prospered, too. He had a comfortable home overlooking the lake, wore fine clothes, and was respected as a nobleman in both the marketplace and the synagogue. His wife had servants to run the house; his young son was his favorite child. By all ordinary standards, Chuza was well favored, but when his son became ill, even Herod’s own physician was not able to help him. Soon it was apparent that the child would die unless a marked improvement in his condition quickly took place.

Distraught, for he loved the boy dearly, Chuza did not know where to turn until an old serving woman came to him. “Master,” she said, “I have heard the fishermen talking of a Nazarene who performs miracles. If you went to Him, He might help the boy.”

On any other occasion, Chuza would have scoffed at the rumor, for tales of miraculous cures were common in this region where so many of the afflicted flocked to the healing springs along the lake shore.

“Was it a miracle of healing?” he asked.

“He turned water to wine—at a wedding feast. The fisherman drank some himself and said it was better wine even than that purchased here in Galilee.”

Chuza hesitated to dismiss the story. He had seen the trick performed by traveling magicians but he had never known them to offer others the wine they claimed to have produced. “Who was the fisherman?” he asked.

“James, one of the sons of Zebedee.”

Zebedee was a highly respected elder in the synagogue at Capernaum, and his sons were well known to Chuza. They would not be deceived by a magician’s trick or tell an idle story just for effect.

“Where was this done?” he inquired.

“In Cana. But the Teacher called Jesus is of Nazareth.”

Chuza knew the town and, like Nathanael, he thought, “Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?” But he was also desperate and since it was not far, he determined to seek out this man called Jesus. Ordering a horse made ready he started at once but learned when he reached Nazareth that Jesus was at Cana. Hurrying on he inquired in the village and was directed to the home where Jesus was visiting.

Chuza was disappointed by his first sight of the Nazarene. To him, Jesus looked no different from hundreds of men he saw every day in his travels about Galilee. His robe was of common cloth and the sandals on His feet had obviously been made in a village shop. Nevertheless, the nobleman had come this far and nothing was to be gained by not asking for help, even from such an unlikely source.

“Come to Capernaum with me, Master, and heal my son,” he begged. “He lies at the point of death.”

Jesus knew Chuza by reputation as a good man, in spite of the fact that he served an evil master. He was sure the reason the steward had come to Him for help was that he had heard of the miracle at the wedding feast. Yet compassionate as He always was for the sorrows of others, He could understand the concern of a father for his child.

“Except you see signs and wonders you will not believe,” Jesus said quietly.

In his anguish, Chuza did not understand. “Sir,” he begged again. “Come down to Capernaum before my child dies.”

“Go your way,” Jesus told him then. “Your son lives.”

Chuza could not believe the child had been healed by the simple words. His coming to Jesus had been an act of desperation, and he had really not expected anything from it. Sorrowfully, he mounted his horse and started on the return journey to Capernaum.

He was hardly halfway home when he saw men riding toward him. As they came closer, he recognized two of his servants. Strangely enough their faces were joyful.

“Your son lives!” one of them called out to him while still some distance away.

The servants could tell the happy father only that the child had suddenly improved and his wife had sent them posthaste to find him, knowing he would want the news as quickly as possible. In his joy at learning that his son was safe, Chuza quite forgot his interview with Jesus until he was entering the outskirts of Capernaum. Then a thought came to him and he turned to the servants who rode behind him.

“What hour was it when the boy began to improve?” he asked.

“The seventh hour, master,” he was told. “The fever left him suddenly. Why do you ask?”

Chuza did not answer. How could he explain to them that at just the seventh hour, the carpenter of Nazareth had said to him in Cana, “Go your way. Your son lives”?

With His fame as a teacher and a worker of miracles growing daily now, the time had come for Jesus to reveal His identity and the mission for which He had been sent to earth. Naturally He chose for this important announcement the synagogue at Nazareth. On the Sabbath following the healing of Chuza’s son, He entered the place of worship as usual and, when the time came for reading a passage from the writings of the prophets, He took up the scroll. Unrolling it, He began to read from the writings of Isaiah:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.”

The reading finished, He calmly rolled up the scroll again and put it down. The listeners had heard the passage read many times before because scholars considered that it referred to the Messiah, whose coming Isaiah had so fervently predicted. And yet when Jesus spoke again, His words struck them like a bolt of lightning.

“Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing,” He said loudly enough for His voice to be heard by those who were listening outside.

The people of Nazareth had known Jesus as a good neighbor and a kind, patient, and deeply religious man who had taught their children, built their homes, carved plows for the farmers, and made furniture in His shop. A few had recognized a change in Him when He returned from Bethabara, but many others baptized by John had also changed, so this was in itself nothing unusual. There had been murmurings of amazement at the story of His turning water to wine at Cana and also when He had cured the son of Chuza in Capernaum. But when He did no miraculous things in Nazareth itself, the memory of those miracles was quickly forgotten.

Because of Jesus’ eloquence and the simplicity of His teaching, the synagogue was filled every Sabbath that it was known He would speak, and today the congregation had spilled over into the yard. Some in Galilee had already named Him a prophet, but no one had been prepared for His dramatic announcement that He was the Anointed One whose coming Isaiah had predicted in the eloquent passage read to them that morning. If this were true, it was indeed a wondrous thing; but how could they be expected to believe it of one they had known first as a boy here in Nazareth and later as a skilled carpenter, the son of a carpenter, and the breadwinner for His family after His father’s death?