The Galilean Secret: A Novel (39 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY

THE LAST TIME GABRIEL HAD PLANNED TO KILL SOMEONE, IT WAS HIMSELF. This time it was a Roman soldier. Consumed by anger, he had lost himself. And forgotten all that he had learned. He held a bleating lamb against his chest, concealing the dagger beneath his tunic. The Sabbath crowd swept him into the Temple as if he were a pebble in rushing water. Since leaving Golgotha, he had reflected on his heartbreak and realized who was the ultimate cause of it—the Romans. They had murdered Judith’s brother and turned her and Dismas into outlaws. They had crucified Dismas and an innocent, righteous man, Jesus of Nazareth. Now the Romans would pay!

The throng led him into the Court of the Israelites, heat rising from his chest into his neck and cheeks. Lost in the madness of his fury, he ignored the smoky air and barely heard the Levite choir singing. Only when the priest took the squirming lamb for the sacrifice did the lyres, harps and trumpets catch his ear. The soaring melodies and crashing cymbals at the words, “God’s mercy endures forever,” reverberated joyfully, but not for him. Nothing about the Temple—not the majestic courts nor the sweet-smelling incense nor the elaborate pageantry—could alter his plan for revenge.

Gabriel slipped away from the crowd and headed for the stairs to the high walkway. The last time he climbed here, he had tried to jump. This time, he would make the soldier on patrol his first victim.

He took the stairs two at a time, glancing furtively in each direction. He reached the top without being noticed, stepped behind a pillar and waited. He heard footsteps and reached for the dagger.

Then he looked down. The Temple’s dazzling white marble, filigreed with silver and gold, gleamed in the late-afternoon sun. The rooftops of Jerusalem sparkled like a field of jewels. He remembered his horrendous wedding day, the ache in his heart, the terror in his gut. And he thought of Nicodemus, the man who had saved him.

Had the old Pharisee really taught him the secret of happiness? Or had Nicodemus’ wisdom been folly? And what of the letter from Jesus? Gabriel had discarded it at Golgotha: now he regretted it. Nicodemus had entrusted the letter to him, but it belonged to Mary Magdalene; she deserved to get it back.

Gabriel froze, paralyzed by remorse. Mary had tried to help Judith, and how had Gabriel shown his gratitude? By throwing the letter away like worthless litter. Attacking the soldier might mean never knowing what happened to it. His life would be changed forever—he could end up crucified like Dismas.

He gripped the dagger, unafraid to kill, but wondering whether he truly wanted revenge. The soldier drew near. Gabriel must lunge now, if ever. He remembered Jesus’ lament from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Gabriel felt dazed, the lament whirling in his mind. He left the dagger in his belt and let go. The soldier walked past. Gabriel leaned against the pillar and drew a breath before descending the stairs. He would go to Nicodemus’ house, tell him about Judith’s pregnancy and explain what had happened to the letter. He owed Nicodemus that much for saving his life.

J
erusalem’s streets were quiet. Gabriel sprinted along them, trying to convince himself that he was not a coward or a disloyal friend. By the time he reached Nicodemus’ house, the Sabbath was ending. Fresh from his evening prayers, Nicodemus invited Gabriel in and said, “It was hard to pray tonight. Jesus’ crucifixion was a terrible injustice.”

Gabriel followed him through the courtyard, remembering the shrieks of horror and the stench of death at Golgotha. When they reached the upstairs dining room, he withdrew the dagger from the belt inside his tunic. “I wanted revenge,” he said. “I considered using this on one of the soldiers at the Temple.”

Nicodemus stepped away from the sharp blade. “I know how you feel. Joseph of Arimathea and I tried to defend Jesus in the Sanhedrin, but we lost. You want to lash out—I’m glad you thought better of it.”

Gabriel tucked the dagger back into his belt. “I made things worse by throwing the letter away at Golgotha.”

Nicodemus’ expression turned grave. “Mary Magdalene told me that a centurion named Longinus now has the letter.”

“I came to apologize for—”

Nicodemus waved a hand dismissively, interrupting. “Judith explained everything.”

An image of Judith’s terrified face came back to Gabriel, and his knees went weak. He hadn’t planned to leave her at Golgotha, to run away like an impulsive child, but seeing his brother suffer on the cross had been too much to bear, especially when Judith confessed she was carrying Dismas’ baby. Gabriel had become confused and needed time to sort out his feelings. He knew he still loved Judith: his heart leapt when Nicodemus mentioned her name. But did he have a heart big enough to forgive her? He gathered his strength and straightened his knees. “How is she?” he asked.

“As well as can be expected. She took it hard when you left, but she still hopes that you will go back to her.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t know if I can.”

Nicodemus gestured toward the storage chamber and then led him to it. Once inside, Gabriel saw the dinnerware, the candelabras, the long robes and the bookcase. Nicodemus removed his shawl and folded it; then he returned the prayer book to the shelf and said, “What you don’t know is that Judith and Dismas were in this chamber when I was talking with you about your broken heart. She understood how deeply she had hurt you and what a mistake she made. She wants to start a new life.”

Gabriel frowned. “But now she’s pregnant with Dismas’ child. I could never—”

Nicodemus waved a hand. “Maybe, maybe not. The pregnancy could also be a blessing. Do you still love her?”

“I thought I did, but when she told me she was pregnant . . .”

Nicodemus became reflective. “Do you remember Jesus’ discussion of Adam and Eve in the letter?”

“About their being one?”

Nicodemus put a hand on his shoulder. “They had to cope with betrayal. Eve acted deceitfully, and they got expelled from the Garden of Eden. God placed cherubim and a flaming sword at the entrance of the Garden so that they could not return. Adam and Eve had to venture into unexplored territory and build a new relationship outside of paradise. For any couple to find true love, they must do the same. The letter affirms that we only learn what love is by persevering through the hard times, and if we do not, we will spend our lives alone, because we cannot get back into Eden.”

A sudden gust of anger battered Gabriel’s heart. He turned to leave. “I’d be happier alone—or with another woman.”

Nicodemus held his arm. “Perhaps, perhaps not. You care deeply about Judith—otherwise you wouldn’t have been so hurt when she left, and you wouldn’t have wanted her back. The pregnancy is the problem. You’re not sure you can raise your brother’s child, and I can’t resolve that question for you. I only know that if you accept love’s challenge, it will take you places you never imagined going.”

Gabriel stopped and turned around, his head aching with confusion. Judith was his first love, the woman whose smile had sent a shiver down his spine, the woman he had dreamed of lying with on their wedding night and raising a family and growing old with. His head pounded harder as he thought of how the dream had been denied. “I don’t know if I still love Judith.”

Nicodemus left the chamber and then returned shortly with a sheet of papyrus. “I hope this will help you decide what to do.” He handed him the papyrus. “It is a letter from Judith.”

He led Gabriel into the courtyard, offered him a chair and lit some candles. Gabriel sat down and began to read:

My dearest Gabriel,

I haven’t stopped thinking of you. Although you have every right to throw this letter away, I hope you will read it and give me one last chance to tell you what is in my heart. I can’t undo the pain I have created, and nothing can justify the shameful way I treated you. If I had known on our wedding day what I know now, I would have married you, and joyfully. There was a lot I needed to learn—lessons about true love.

Everything changed for me on a Sabbath afternoon when Dismas and I overheard the conversation that you and Nicodemus were having in his dining room. We were hiding, stealing from this good man, when you came in. What Nicodemus said was meant to help you, but it also helped me. I saw how much I had hurt you, and I began to understand sexual attraction, and why we get so swept up in it.

I read the letter that Jesus of Nazareth wrote Mary Magdalene, and I now know that this attraction involves the soul. When two people remain unaware of this mystery, the attraction becomes powerful enough to overwhelm them.

This is what happened to me, but God’s voice spoke through the words of Jesus, assuring me of forgiveness, lifting the burden of my shame and guilt. On the night before his crucifixion, Jesus and I were imprisoned together. In those desperate hours, I recognized what an extraordinary man he is, and I saw his deep serenity in the face of death.

I also met Mary Magdalene. She shared with me how Jesus taught her to claim her worth apart from that of a man. I am learning how to become strong and independent by finding the untapped power within me. I am also learning that I don’t need a man in order to survive, but if I choose to love again, I believe I could do it in a healthy way.

I only wish that I had learned these lessons earlier, and that you had been spared the pain I caused you. I could spend a lifetime making it up to you, but penance would do neither of us any good. I want to be done with guilt and shame and get on with my life. I have found the way to healing, and I hope you will too.

I love you, Gabriel, and I’ll never stop. I want to laugh and cry with you, and nurse you when you’re sick, and hold you when you’re scared. Most of all, I want to be your friend and share your dreams, until one of us closes the other’s eyes.

But in order for us to be together, you must become as whole as I am becoming. Our marriage would work only if our souls are both growing. We must be true equals and bring out the best in each other. Only then will we redeem the past and become the strong, caring parents that my child needs. You must decide if an equal marriage is really what you want.

I’m staying with Jesus’ disciples. Nicodemus knows where. If you’re ready to forgive, please meet me there. If you don’t come, I will make my own way, knowing what you have chosen. No matter what happens, I will always want the best for you, and pray for your safety and happiness.

Judith

Gabriel stared at the letter for a long time, his eyes moist. He knew what he had to do.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

A SENSATION OF NUMBNESS RIPPLED THROUGH JUDITH WHEN MARY MAGDALENE SHOOK HER AWAKE. It was early on the first day of the week, and still dark outside. Terrified by the thought of seeing the crucified Jesus again, Judith felt paralyzed. But when Mary Magdalene tightened her determined grip and intensified her impassioned whispers, Judith had no choice but to keep her promise: she would go with the women to finish the embalming. She got up, hastily brushed her hair and put on her sandals and cloak. Mary held her hand and guided her down the stairs by candlelight.

In the courtyard Salome, Susanna, Joanna and Mary, the mother of James, were waiting with jars of embalming spices and ointments. Careful not to wake the disciples, they led Mary Magdalene and Judith out of the courtyard. Judith surrendered to their grim procession, her legs wobbly and her eyes downcast, like those of the other women.

Jerusalem lay quiet, the air brisk. Judith caught a whiff of hibiscus and almond blossoms, but the spring freshness seemed more cruel than welcoming, mocking her grief with hope. She dreaded the task of embalming Jesus’ body, of seeing his gruesome wounds again, of touching his death-stiffened frame. Pausing, she let the others go ahead. Before the crucifixion, the only dead person she had ever seen was her four-year-old brother Reuben.

But now he was gone.

Forever gone.

So was Dismas. And Jesus. And Gabriel.

And she was alone.

She realized that Jesus wouldn’t want her to dwell on these thoughts, but she couldn’t stop them. Oh, why had she promised to go with Mary Magdalene? Why had she not insisted that the others finish the embalming? With so much on her mind, how could she relive the horrific events? She wanted to find somewhere to hide and never come out, but when Mary Magdalene glanced back at her, Judith ran to catch up and walked with the women through Jerusalem’s empty streets beneath a silent blue-black sky.

She and the women retraced their steps from three days earlier, and Golgotha’s forbidding outline came into view. A glimmer of light danced on the predawn horizon. A cock crowed in the distance. A few pigeons landed nearby with a single squawk. The stillness was interrupted only by the songs of birds welcoming the day. Ever so slowly, the light expanded, coloring the horizon pinkish orange. Judith felt as if her heart were expanding too, as her hope struggled to return. Her breathing quickened. In order for hope to sustain her, she would have to nurture it like the child in her womb.

The dawn reminded her of Mary Magdalene’s promise to help. Like the sun, Judith would rise again. Regardless of what Gabriel did, she had no choice—she had to care for her baby. She promised herself to do so and to help Mary Magdalene and the disciples keep Jesus’ legacy alive. If only they had the letter! It would remind them of Jesus’ teachings and make it easier to spread them. Perhaps Nicodemus could convince Pilate to order Longinus to return it.

Judith paused at Joseph of Arimathea’s garden, staggered by the rich colors and dizzying fragrances. The fig trees hung heavy with the green fruit of spring; the terebinths stood tall and broad, as if guarding the treasures of Eden. Red roses and white lilies and pink almond blossoms—they were all startling in their untamed virgin freshness. And yet amid all the glories of the earth, Judith sensed a foreboding of something yet to come. Her temples throbbed in anticipation as the gentle breeze died and the air became stagnant and the birds stopped their joyous singing.

Suddenly the ground began to shake. “Earthquake!” Judith’s entire body shook; she had to fight to steady herself. The trembling increased and she was thrown down. She dug her fingers into the dusty ground, desperate to hang on, terrified of being swallowed alive. The rumbling went on for minutes. She tensed every muscle until the ground gradually became still and the garden quiet. She got up and stared at the tombs, their entrances carved into the craggy stone hillside. The front of the middle one, where Joseph and Nicodemus had placed Jesus’ body, appeared as dark as a starless night.

Something was wrong.

No stone was covering its entrance.

The women ran to the tomb. Along with the others, Judith peered cautiously inside and then entered, her pulse racing. Where was Jesus’ body? A young man was sitting on the right side, his face shining like the sun, his robe whiter than bleached wool. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the young man greeted them and said, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.”

Judith was shaking. Raised? How could it be? Had the Romans stolen Jesus’ body? Had they sent the young man to cover up their treachery? Mary Magdalene threw her jar of spices into the air and took off running. Joanna reached out and grabbed her by the tunic, slowing her until they were running side by side. The jar hit the rocky ground with a crash and broke open, but no one stopped for it. Judith clung to Salome and they lurched forward together. Mary, the mother of James, was sprinting away from them; they strained to keep up.

Judith raced through the early dawn, legs churning, arms pumping, lungs burning. As she pulled even with Mary Magdalene, she heard a man’s voice from behind. “Wait! Someone is calling us.” Everyone stopped and turned.

“Greetings,” the man said with a distinctive resonance.

She saw who was standing there. It was the man who had come to her in prison. The man who had healed her of shame and guilt.

Jesus.

He was standing right in front of her, his face brilliant, his arms out-stretched. She recognized him and began to tremble, the color draining from her face, her feet freezing in place. The other women recognized him too. Immediately they all fell at his feet. “Do not be afraid,” he said. “Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” Then he was gone.

Judith and the others arose and began to run again, but she noticed that Mary Magdalene had stopped, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Mary, come with us.”

Mary Magdalene waved dismissively and shook her head no. Judith couldn’t understand why Mary wasn’t coming with them, but she also couldn’t wait for her—she had to tell the disciples the shocking news.

Judith sprinted through Jerusalem’s streets, dodging merchants and laborers who were opening their shops or going to work. How could Jesus appear to us? Questions catapulted through her mind as she trembled in fear and amazement. She had seen him with her own eyes and heard him with her own ears. He was alive!

As the women entered the house, she asked, “How can we tell the disciples? They will never believe us.”

“Never believe what?” Peter came into the kitchen, concern in his voice.

John was close behind him, alarm written on his face. “What is all the noise about?”

Susanna began to speak, but suddenly went mute, unable to describe the wonder. Judith blurted out, “It is Jesus. We went to the tomb and found it empty. An angel spoke to us!” Giddy with excitement, she could barely get out the words. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “The angel said that God has raised Jesus from the dead. We came running to tell you, and Jesus himself greeted us. We have seen the Lord!”

Joanna put an arm around her and smiled triumphantly. “You must believe her,” she said, her voice surging with joy. “Jesus is not dead but alive!”

Peter shifted his gaze to each of the women, scrutinizing them with disbelief. “Are you mad? Why have you come here talking foolishness?”

The rest of the disciples rushed in to see what the excitement was about. When Matthew heard the news, he said, “Must you tell idle tales at a time like this?”

The thin-faced Bartholomew grimaced. “This isn’t funny.”

“Women! They cannot be trusted,” Andrew said, shaking his head.

“They talk utter nonsense,” Thomas said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

While the disciples were expressing their displeasure, Mary Magdalene opened the door, her face so radiant that Judith stepped back when she saw it. Every eye was riveted on Mary. She explained that the mystery and the terror had exhausted her, that she had slowed down to catch her breath. “Then Jesus appeared to me again, and I ran all the way here,” she said. “He is alive! Go see for yourselves.”

Peter and John leapt up and ran out the door. The women gathered around Mary Magdalene in the kitchen as the remaining disciples shook their heads and went upstairs to pack for home.

“Jesus really did appear to me. He told me he will love me forever; then he reminded me of the secret of his eternal love, and commissioned me to proclaim the secret fearlessly.” Mary folded her arms on her chest and gripped them to stop her shaking. “Why would I tell tales about something so serious?”

Judith embraced her. “I believe you, Mary.”

Mary Magdalene smiled and said, “Let the men think what they want. We must trust our own experience and speak boldly of what we have seen and heard.”

“But what will we tell people?” Judith asked. “If they didn’t know Jesus, why would they care if he is alive?”

Mary became still for a moment, deep in thought. “People will care because his resurrection gives hope to everyone. If he conquered suffering and death, how can we doubt that he is with us? He took the worst evil and transformed it to new life; so can we. His resurrection tells us that darkness never wins. Today a new era of light and love has dawned.”

As the women began to prepare breakfast, Judith spoke to Mary Magdalene. “It may seem selfish at this wondrous time, but I’m still worried that I have lost Gabriel.”

Mary Magdalene looked at her with understanding and squeezed her hand. Just then Salome reentered the kitchen and said, “Judith, you have a visitor.”

Salome was smiling broadly as she led Judith to the kitchen door. When Judith saw who was standing there, she stepped back.

Gabriel.

He hugged her and whispered, “I missed you. Your letter meant so much.”

Mary Magdalene hugged them both and said to Gabriel, “I’m so glad you found her, and I hope you’ll never let her go. Now I must catch up with Peter and John.”

As Mary rushed out the door, Judith gazed at Gabriel, unable to turn away. “I’m so glad you came. This morning has changed everything.”

“Can we talk somewhere?” Gabriel asked.

Judith took his hand and led him into the sitting room. He shut the door and said, “There is so much I want to tell you.” But instead of speaking, he took her in his arms and kissed her. She submitted freely, savoring his gentle embrace and the soft contours of his lips.

At last she stepped back and gazed into his moist tawny eyes, so warm that they almost shone. “Oh, Gabriel, I have wanted you so, and I thought that I had lost you forever. I love you, and I’m so glad you came back to me.” She led him to the long couch.

Gabriel sat down and pulled her beside him. “I’m so sorry that I left you at Golgotha. It was all too much, and I acted like a coward. When I got away and thought about everything that had happened, I realized how angry I was at the Romans and wanted to attack a soldier. Fortunately I found Nicodemus instead. He’s a very wise man. He helped me with my anger and explained what love really means. After I read the letter you wrote me, I had no choice but to come find you. What you said in the letter confirmed everything that I learned from Nicodemus. I, too, want to start a new life with you based on Jesus’ teachings.” He reached for her hand. “Please come with me.”

Judith gazed into his vulnerable eyes and wondered how to tell him about the events of the morning. She feared he wouldn’t believe them. “Everything has changed. The women and I went to the tomb at dawn, and we found it empty. A strange man told us that God had raised Jesus from the dead. Then, when we were running back to tell the disciples, Jesus himself greeted us, and he appeared again to Mary Magdalene. He is alive, Gabriel! Even the cross could not defeat him.”

He furrowed his brow. “How do you expect me to believe that?”

“I know it sounds impossible, and I cannot explain or prove it, but I
know
that God raised Jesus from the dead. I experienced his presence.”

While she was still speaking, shouting erupted in the kitchen. She grabbed Gabriel’s hand and they ran to see what was happening. The women and the disciples were running out to the courtyard. She and Gabriel followed them, and once outside, they saw Peter and John.

“It’s true,” Peter said. “The tomb is empty!”

John spoke in a hushed voice. “I saw Jesus’ shroud and grave wrappings with my own eyes. They were all he left behind.”

Everyone in the courtyard fell silent, awed by reports too disturbing and wonderful to fathom. Judith noticed how pale Peter and John appeared, as if they hadn’t seen the sun for weeks. They were nervously wringing their hands, their eyes wide.

Thomas became impatient. “Peter, you are acting as strangely as the women,” he said. “So are you, John.” He headed for the street and then turned to face the group. “When people die, they stay dead. To believe otherwise is the height of stupidity.”

When Thomas left, it was as if he had given everyone permission to speak again. The courtyard came alive with conversations about the empty tomb and Jesus’ appearances and how mysterious it all was. Judith glanced at Gabriel and saw confusion in his eyes. Her lips dry and her breathing shallow, she wondered if he was ready to follow Thomas. Did he believe her story? Did he think she was lying? It was important for her to know. “Some of the men think they have heard an idle tale. What do you think?” she asked.