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X. MARDUK RISING
Gabriel stared sullenly at the new moon. Kislev had ended, Tebeth begun. Rafael sat silently beside him, gazing across the fields at the long shadow of the pillar called the Migdal Eder, the Tower of the Flock, which marked the place of Rachel's entombment.
"Rafael, we should go back and see to Mirriam."
"She will not be in true labor for several hours."
"Mage Baal's triple conjunction comes tonight, doesn't it?" Gabriel peered at the stars but he could not find the iniquitous grouping.
"Tonight Marduk rises and Tiamat dies." Rafael replied. He pointed out a tiny boy, sleeping with the flock, a newborn lamb nestled against his chest.
Gabriel did not appreciate the bucolic sentiment of the scene. "The heavens are wasting their time announcing the birth of my son."
"If all the night were to blaze with God's Own Glory, it would be insufficient homage to Him."
Gabriel listened carefully for a trace of sarcasm, but Rafael was deadly serious. "You actually believe that lanky, skew-shouldered buffoon will amount to anything'?"
"I do not have to believe," Rafael said. "I have seen."
Gabriel listened to the wistful sigh which framed these last three words. "Tell me one redeeming thing about this man we have seen."
"He is Redemption."
"I am not going to sit here and be humiliated." Gabriel staggered to his feet.
"Sit down, Brother."
"Say something that makes any sense at all and I might be persuaded to do so, Rafe."
"Yeshua is a very kind and giving soul," Rafael began. "You saw how they turned to Him in their grief over John's capture. They sought Yeshua's comfort naturally, though they did not consciously understand how important He is to them. You saw how He diminished their hatred of Matthew by displaying it in a ridiculous degree, how He eased their anxious waiting with His humorous tale. You saw His tenderness with Eli, drawing him to the center of the circle, when he would otherwise be dismissed because of his youth."
"But he made a fool of himself! And I am not convinced the young man, Eli, and he aren't lovers. He certainly acts as if they were."
Rafael took a deep and strident breath, biting his knuckle to keep his temper in check. "No," he said evenly. "Yeshua is celibate, by His own choice."
"Or because no one will have him," Gabriel grumbled.
After a tense silence, Rafael said, "I know that He is your son, and as such, you have certain-- privileges. But if you say one more derogatory thing concerning Him, I will strike you down so hard you will never rise up again."
Gabriel had never heard his brother lose control, but he heard the intimation of it now. What was this Yeshua to Rafael? What was this lopsided, gangly clown to any of them?
Rafael's silver eyes lidded in warning. "From our extended study of His Life, I have come to think thus: Yeshua knows He is a bastard. Under the precepts of Mosaic Law, He is damned. He can never be a member of the elect, nor could any of His children. Like a signal fire, He stands outside of the Kingdom to Come and He bids others enter, but He can never enter. And He refuses to sire children who would likewise be damned."
Gabriel was tempted to point out that proved his son was a fool, but he felt Rafael's hands on his own, felt himself slipping away from the field and into his brother's strange power of dreaming.
Gabriel recognized the gathering of men, much like the first vision, this time in the courtyard of Joseph's house at Date Home. James still acted the patriarch of the group, seated in the shade of the southern porch, speaking heatedly with his brothers, Simon and Jude, and his uncle, Cleopas.
"Rabbi Gamaliel says the old law has not been followed for more than half a century," Simon Zelotes was saying.
"Gamaliel would say anything to hold his majority in the Sanhedrin," James Zadok countered. "If he thought it would help, he'd see the Zealots in Council."
Rafael explained, Hillel’s grandson now leads the Pharisees. While he admires the rebellious Sicarri Sect, he cannot openly acknowledge the Zealots. Judea is now under a Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate, a stubbornly relentless man, who considers the eradication of the Zealots as his prime mission in subjugating the Jews.
What happened to Herod?
He died the year after Yeshua was born. The Sadducees are the only Jewish rule in Jerusalem now. They are wealthy enough to buy their positions and privileges from the Romans and Pilate is usually away in Cesarea.
"Moses had seventy priests," Cleopas intoned. "Seventy and one is the number of the Sanhedrin. Not a thousand!"
Jude Sicarri argued, "But you know very well Caiaphus cares nothing for tradition, except that it gives the Zadok Sons a majority on all decisions."
James held firm with his uncle against his two brothers.
Why is James on Cleopas' side in this?
Simon and James both trained with the Sadducees for a time. Simon took off north with his brother, Jude, to run with the rebels, until the Baptist converted them. James the Just, James the Zadok, remained in Jerusalem and became a Sadducee priest, under his uncles' sponsorship, Cleopas and Annas.
Annas, the prefect?
Annas was High Priest for a time. He still is, except in name. He placed, in succession, all five of his sons as High Priest. When he ran out of sons, he bought the position for his son-in-law, Caiaphus, who is the current High Priest.
Gabriel's attention wandered from the heated debate beneath the portico to the others, scattered round the courtyard in family groups. He was surprised to see most of the men had wives and many had young children. Simon Bar Jonas, who looked very much like a bear, rough-housed with his two sons while his wife looked on disapprovingly. Gabriel did not see the three Greeks, nor Andrew. Matthew taught sums to three of the boys. Eli stood by the fountain, arbitrating a dispute over a stuffed donkey with two small girls and a smaller boy.
Simon rolled on his back in mock surrender. He looked over at Jude and Simon Zelotes. "It will be decided today in any case. Stop your arguing and get over 'ere. These ruffians are killin' me."
Jude and Simon stalked over and threw themselves enthusiastically into the fray. It soon became unclear as to whose side any of them were on, or if it was every man--or boy--for himself.
They certainly appear to be enjoying themselves.
They see their families so seldom that when they are together they indulge.
What sort of work do they do?
They were all followers of John, before he died. They continue to travel, to baptize and console. They are very popular with the poor and the wealthy alike, even with some of the Romans.
They just wander from town to town and talk? Where do they stay? How do they live?
People take them into their houses. They stay in Jake's house when they go to Branch, Zebdi's house at the Lake, this house when they come to Jerusalem. Otherwise they sleep where they may, work when that is necessary. Jonas' two sons and Joshua Zebdi's brood are accomplished fishermen. People give them money. Sometimes they steal food. Sometimes they sit in the midst of elegant parties as the favored guests.
A strange way to live, Rafael.
Yeshua says they are living one continual party, and if they never stop celebrating, they will never wake up with a headache.
Yeshua? They don't call him "Hunch" anymore?
Yeshua is such a talented speaker, he has become their most popular member, and their most prominent. James thought the surname undignified and he forbade their using it. Yeshua decided it was only fair that they should all change names. James did not like the one they picked for him. James the Less and John, were dubbed "Thunderers." They tend to yell when they preach. Simon Bar Jonas was named "Rock," and Rock he remains. The rest went back to their old names, except for Eli. Now he is grown, they call him the more proper Lazarus. It irritates Cleopas that Yeshua still calls Eli "Beloved."
Cleopas?
Eleazar is Cleopas' son, named in honor of Anna's betrothed.
I thought Cleopas had a daughter.
One son and two daughters, Marta and Mary. They call Mary; "Magda," or "Migdal," the Tower. Here she comes now.
Yeshua enter the courtyard with a woman on each arm. The woman on his right was almost his height, but she was lithe and graceful, not at all gawky. All activity in the court ceased as they entered. One and all they rushed the three, a tide of cacophonous questions, urgent demands.
The shorter woman on Yeshua's left arm excused herself and joined Mary Cleopas who was standing at the kitchen door. The mob followed Yeshua to the fountain where he sat down, smiling on them all, as if they were his dearest friends, his beloved family.
The tiny boy who had been fussing over the stuffed donkey, toddled forward, whining. Lazarus shooed him away and then turned back to Yeshua.
"Tell us what the Council decided." Lazarus demanded.
The toddler sat down and began to bawl, clutching the donkey and rocking.
"Zeb," Yeshua called out, pointedly, but gently, ignoring Lazarus.
The boy pushed up on his pudgy legs and the group parted as he waddled forward. He held up the donkey and sniffed. One leg was nearly ripped off, hanging by threads only. "Heal?" the child asked.
Some of the men laughed, more of them gasped. The other children scolded and the women were silent. Tower lifted Zeb up on her lap and dried his eyes.
"Of course, Zeb." Taking the toy, Yeshua reached into his sleeve and brought out a needle and thread. He threaded the needle, re-positioned the foreleg and began to sew.
"No," said Zeb. He waved his tiny hands in circles and then laid them on the donkey closing his eyes and mumbling in the language only babies understand. "Heal," he repeated and tipped his head.
Yeshua bit his lips together and his nostrils flared with his effort not to laugh at the child's charming parody. "Let me stitch him up, Zeb, and then you can heal him when I am finished."
Zeb was clearly delighted. He tucked his hands between his dimpled knees and watched the sewing with absolute concentration.
"The Sanhedrin will now be seventy-one in number," Yeshua said quietly, never looking up from his mending. "Gamaliel tried his best. Rabbi Eleazar from the Upper City School tried. I tried. The Law is the Law is the Law. We lost."
James the Elder and Priest Cleopas shared congratulatory looks. The rest of the men murmured and cursed. Rock cleared his throat and spat on the pavement. His wife joined Mary Cleopas and Marta, and they disappeared beyond the kitchen archway.
Yeshua looked up. "But we also won." His eyes flashed wickedly, and he returned to his sewing.
"Well?" Simon the Rock asked. "You gonna tell us what we won?"
Yeshua held up the donkey and adjusted the angle of the leg. He bent back to sewing. "We still have equal say. The Sadducees did not get a majority. They have thirty-five and we have thirty-five." He gazed up at Matthew.
Matthew laughed, "And that makes seventy. Where are you going with this?"
"The High Priest may not vote," Yeshua said. "We can still deadlock every issue. You can thank Rabbi Eleazar for that bit of brilliance. The Sons of Zadok are also the Sons of Aaron. Some time ago, they decided that Moses delegated all the judicial decisions to Aaron and the priests. The seventy represent the priests. The one represents Moses. Moses did not vote. The one is Caiaphus. Caiaphus cannot vote."
Cleopas groaned. James set his jaw.
"Not much of a victory," Rock growled. He even sounded like a bear.
Yeshua knotted the thread and bit off the end, handing the donkey back to Zeb. The ensuing "healing" had them all holding their breath to keep from laughing.
Tower let the child down and Zeb toddled off.
Yeshua remarked, "Master Gamaliel is usually sooo reserved--."
Their laughter spent itself on the absurdity. Rabbi Gamaliel could not be reserved about discussing the weather.
"--but the decision had him somewhat displeased."
"Probably rolling around on the floor, biting chunks out of the marble," Rock commented.
"Exactly so, Rock. And since I could not bear to see the fine marble so ill-used, I stood up and said my piece. If the Great Council were reduced to seventy-one, I contended, then there was no reason for the Sanhedrin's using the Xystos. The school in the Hanuyot is very crowded and they could certainly use a larger hall and apartments, as well. I will not bore you with the details, but the final outcome was the Sadducees have been moved back to the Hanuyot on the south Temple wall above the Hulda Gates, and the school has the run of the entire Xystos."
Cleopas stared. "You exiled the Sanhedrin!"
Yeshua put his hand to his throat and blinked innocently. "Why no, Uncle Cleopas. I merely reminded your fine priests that they had made special provision to move outside The Temple confines in the first place. Those provisions--that the Court was too crowded to function effectively--were no longer met. I suggested the new Sanhedrin could vote on the matter. No one took me up on the suggestion, though. Perhaps the Sadducees thought we would vote against them."
The courtyard sparkled with their mirth.
"Caiaphus will have your heart on a stake if you are not careful!" James Zadok shouted above the din.
"Not tonight he won't," Yeshua stood up and offered his hand to Mary. "Tonight he will be too busy moving out of his apartments, and we shall be too busy sanctifying those same rooms with the best wine in Judea."
Lazarus stepped up on Yeshua's left side. "Does that mean a party?"
"Ceremonial functions, Beloved. Spiritual enlightenments of the highest order, attended to in all piety and devotion." Yeshua strode out of the courtyard between Lazarus and Tower. All the rest followed, except Cleopas and James.
"Well?" Cleopas stared at his nephew.
James lifted his palms. "What can I do? Sometimes when he says 'spiritual enlightenment,' he really means it." James ran off to join the others, leaving Cleopas alone with the women and the children.
As usual, Gabriel thought.
Rafael came out of the vision laughing softly. "Brother, now tell me truly, is He not wonderful?"
Gabriel couched his answer carefully, "He does seem a little less silly. I see what you mean about the kindness with the boy, Zeb. And they do follow him, at least when he is leading them to a party."
Rafael's eyebrows drew together. "You really are blind to Him?"
"You show me a moment's victory, which is hardly monumental. He was clever to trick the Sadducees, but how important can that be in the scheme of things?"
"The importance of this moment is not in its victory, Gabriel. We will move forward one month, to the beginning of Nisan."
Before Gabriel could protest he'd had enough of the visions, they were back in the courtyard at Date Home. It was night and the only light in the court came from the room adjacent the kitchen. Gabriel could hear people gathering inside, the rustle of plates, talking. They formed a pleasant song, just a little over-done at the higher registers of the children.
Amid the chorus, Gabriel heard the soprano of Mirriam's voice and he ached to be out of this wasteful exercise with Rafael. Why are we here and not with Mirriam?
We will be with Mirriam when she needs us, Gabriel.
Yeshua stepped into the empty courtyard. Jude followed.
"But he gave me money to meet with you," Jude protested.
"I am honored," Yeshua said. "I wish you would not worry so. Give the money to James. He will find a use for it. If it disturbs you, Brother, give the money back to your Zealot friend and tell him I will meet with him anyway."
"But he gave it to me as if it were a bribe," Jude complained.
"Which only means that he has been in Surrender long enough to know the customs of our fair city."
"He wants to meet with you alone, Hunch."
"Cestus is a prominent Zealot leader, I could hardly expect him to meet me in The Temple. There is a price on his head."
"But even if he means you no harm, just being seen with him--"
"Then we will not be seen. You said he was coming south for Passover?"
"Yes, Hunch, but--"
"All right, then, tell him I will meet him at the oil press on the mount after the seder. We will be at Master Gamaliel's school in the Upper City, but I will return here and meet with him, and you can come with me to see I do not get into any trouble. Now, let us go in to eat."
They disappeared beyond the lighted archway. Gabriel listened to the children clamoring for Yeshua to say the blessing. Yeshua deferred to Joseph, but Joseph refused. Gabriel strained to hear Joseph's voice again--anything that would tell him how his friend would fare in the years to come.
"Papa," Yeshua began.
Gabriel thought Yeshua was speaking to Joseph again. It was a moment before he realized that the Aramaic baby-word for "daddy," was being used to refer to God.
"Papa, from the heavens to the earth, Your Kingdom is come, in Your Holy Name, by Your Blessed Will. It is Your Bread we eat, that we may never hunger. In the light of Your Mercy, may we become merciful. In the light of Your Love, Papa, may we see the Kingdom, which is everywhere about us, always."
Why can't we go in and see them, Rafael?
Mirriam and Joseph would distract you. Be still. This part is nearly done.
Gabriel grew restless. He could not see anything but the liquid veils of the fountain shimmering in the sliver of light from the doorway. He could only hear the scrape of utensils on plates and bowls, the noises of Cleopas' guests eating.
"Tell us what happened in the Council today," someone said.
"Gamaliel stood before the Sanhedrin and--"
Gabriel recognized Yeshua's voice. Then it changed notes and quality as Yeshua slipped into his characterization of Master Gamaliel. Gabriel could see Yeshua's lean shadow carve across the light as he stood up from the table.
"You have made a mockery of The Temple! First you moved your tradesmen into the archway of the Hulda Gate, competing with our own vendors on the Xystos Bridge. The faithful must enter the Hulda, but having done all their business there, no one makes the trek out to the Xystos shops. Why would they?
"If that were not enough, now your men are setting up booths beneath the Royal Portico of Hanuyot itself. ON SACRED TEMPLE GROUND! If The Messiah should come this day and enter The Temple, what would He think of your desecration? What would you do then? Buy your way out of Judgment?"
Gabriel saw the wild gesticulations in the silhouette on the pavement stones. Gamaliel must have changed little since his childhood, except his voice had lowered--and not very much, at that.Yeshua, dropped back to his normal tones. "Caiaphus replied, 'Show me The Messiah, and I will answer your questions."'
"Gamaliel must have been furious," Mirriam's voice floated into the night. "Everyone is so upset about the Sadducees' actions since they returned to the Hanuyot. What is he going to do now?"
"Mother," Yeshua's voice softened. "If The Messiah's reaction is what Caiaphus wants, then--"
"Naw!" Rock's rumbling bass was easy to identify.
"We are only going to pretend, to show Caiaphus the depth of the feeling against The Temple Priests. Several thousand are going to join in and march into The Temple the week before Passover, behind a proxy messiah, mounted on a fine steed--we need to borrow the jenny, Joseph. We will brandish palm leaves as substitute swords, like avenging angels."
"And who," Cleopas asked. "Is the idiot who agreed to play Messiah for this little pageant of yours?"
Gabriel could not hear the answer, but he saw the tall shadow bow forward.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Gabriel put his hands over his eyes. The jolting back and forth between vision and field made him nauseous.
Rafael shook his head dolefully. "Perhaps I am choosing the wrong pieces. Can you still not see how very extraordinary He is?"
"Because he is mounting a farcical display to humiliate the Sadducees? Should we not be going back now? We have been here a long while."
"You know perfectly well that time passes quickly in dream and in vision. We have been sitting here less than an hour. See, the boy with the lamb has not even moved in his sleep. I fear for you, Gabriel. I think that the rest of this will be harder for you than it was for us."
"Just get on with it!" Gabriel was weary of this and his concern about Mirriam had grown into a physical aching beneath his heart.
Rafael took them to the Upper City in deepest night. Gabriel heard a scuffling and turned to see nine men walking up the street, six Roman soldiers and three prisoners. They reached the corner and the leading two soldiers took their prisoner right, the remaining men turned leftward heading for Herod's palace.
Rafael led them towards the right and they followed the three men into a large house, down a corridor into a side room.
Where are we?
In Annas' house.
Gabriel looked again as the prisoner's bonds were loosed and his shawl drawn back from his head. Why had the Romans brought Yeshua to Annas' house?
A servant appeared, spoke with the guards, and they all withdrew, closing the door and leaving Yeshua alone. He walked around the room, admiring the furniture, reading the scrolls that lay on a table beneath shelves of perhaps a hundred such texts.
"Good evening, Yeshua," Annas greeted him.
"It is well past midnight, Annas. What are you up to?"
Gabriel did not recognize Annas, he had grown so old. The magnificent robe did nothing to hide his infirmity. He sat down on a padded bench near the table.
"Please," Annas was almost pleading. "Sit down. We must talk. I have paid a great sum to have you brought here, and there is not much time."
Yeshua did not recline. "Since when does a former High Priest pay Romans to kidnap Judean citizens?"
"No, no." Annas ran his gnarled fingers over the thick stitching of his robes. "You misunderstand. Pilate sent the soldiers to arrest you. I merely bribed the guards to bring you here for an hour before they take you to the palace."
Yeshua picked up a bench and set it across from the old priest. He sat down slowly. "What do you wish to say to me, Annas?"
"People were hurt in your attack on The Temple, Yeshua."
"It was not my attack. It was not an attack at all, and no one would have been hurt had your son-in- law not called in the guard from the Antonia Fortress, just because he got nervous."
"True, but you frightened him. You frighten us all, Yeshua."
"I mean to."
"We are an occupied country, Yeshua. Whatever power we retain is only through the most complex and tenuous arrangements with Rome. We walk the knife's edge. One misstep and God's Chosen People will be trampled in the dust. We cannot continue to fight among ourselves in this manner, or what is left of Judaism will perish utterly."
"Nations are of no importance to me," Yeshua said.
Annas swallowed. "Well this nation will surely not stand long if you have many followers. They told me you were not a Zealot. I believe it. No Zealot could say such a thing. Do you care nothing for God's People?"
"I care about nothing else, Annas. My heart hurts for all my caring."
Annas' brow furrowed. "Good, then know that I can have the tradesmen and money-changers moved out of the Portico, if you will do me a favor."
Yeshua rose and looked down on the old man. "What is the name of this favor?"
"Pilate is in the city, at Herod's old palace, for the Passover. He has come because he worries the large number of pilgrims will too easily turn into a mob. He was here to witness your march on The Temple, and he has mistaken your display for more than it was. He has ordered you to be brought before him at the pretorium in the palace to be tried for sedition against Rome."
"I am no concern of Pilate's."
Annas sighed, "You are right. But in his eyes you claimed to be the King of the Jews."
"The Messiah is not a king in that sense, Annas."
"It is a point too fine for Pilate to see. His own emperor is a god whose dominion is not limited to the earth. The impressive crowd that followed you to the gates shouting "Hosanna," made the Romans even more anxious about you. That you were picked up this night in the company of two Zealots will not aid your cause either."
"My brother is not a Zealot."
"He used to be, and that is all that matters. And the other is a wanted criminal. No, Yeshua, you must be careful when Pilate questions you in the morning. No one may come to speak in your defense. He will hold the proceeding in camera and you will be alone. You must be very careful what you say."
"That is simple," Yeshua said. "I will tell the truth."
Annas rubbed his arthritic fingers. "That is good. Perhaps in the time remaining, we could practice how you will say this truth. Are you The Messiah?"
"Yes," said Yeshua. "I am."
Annas' crippled fingers found his throat and he coughed so violently he nearly fell from his bench. Yeshua retook his seat and leaned towards the priest. He brought Annas' hands down from his neck and held them in his own.
Annas caught his breath. "They said you were possessed of a wicked wit, Yeshua. Now, enough of this foolishness. Tell me, are you The Messiah?"
Yeshua stroked his long fingers over the old priest's swollen hands. "They hurt you all the time, don't they?"
"Yeshua, try to understand the seriousness of your predicament. Once more: Are you The Anointed?"
"I am." Yeshua turned Annas' hands palm up and began rubbing them with his thumbs as if he were polishing a fine piece of wood.
Annas drew back his hands. "Stop saying that!"
"If you wish." Yeshua lifted his palms and waited for Annas to return his hands.
Annas did so unthinkingly. "You have no reason to think God has chosen you. Why would He?"
"Papa does what He Will," Yeshua said lightly. He began to massage Annas wrists. "I am sure I cannot explain it."
"What gives you the right to address God with that disrespectful title? It is said you teach others to call Him 'Daddy,' as well."
"Papa's Love is most of what I teach, aside from the odd commentary on the Law." Yeshua laid Annas' left hand on the priest's lap and began to knead the fingers of the right.
"A compensation for your being a bastard?" Annas sneered. "A pity you do not know your true papa."
"The tragedy, Annas," Yeshua changed to the priest's other hand. "The actual pity is that you do not know My Father."
"And are you claiming now to be God's Son?"
"I know My Father and My Father knows me, Annas."
Annas shook his head clear. "Stand over there. You are distracting me." Yeshua grinned and moved away from the priest.
"Is it that business with Lazarus, Yeshua? Are you beginning to believe it yourself, that you can raise the dead?"
Yeshua shrugged his uneven shoulders. "That was a misunderstanding."
"Explain it to me."
Yeshua leaned back against the wall and folded his long arms. "We were all so distraught about John's death, so stunned with guilt and loss and confusion, that we could not--well, we were no good to anybody, ourselves included. Nothing seemed to help. I suggested that we should die."
Annas mouth gaped, "You told them to kill themselves?"
Yeshua smiled. "Not actually, no. One-by-one, as we found the courage to do so, we had ourselves sealed, alone and naked, in Joseph's tomb. We stayed there three days, fasting, and coming to terms with John's death. Then the tomb was opened and we entered the world again, reborn. I was the first, since it was my idea. Lazarus was the last, because he is so afraid of the dark. He showed greater courage than all the rest of us, because his fear was such an agony to him. We were so proud of him, we celebrated for days.
"But some of those who joined us did not understand our odd rite. They spread the rumor that The Beloved was dead and that I had raised him up."
"Do you believe John was The Messiah?" Annas asked.
"My friends do."
"Do you believe John was The Messiah?" Annas repeated.
"No."
"Because you are?"
"Yes."
"Yeshua," Annas sighed his name like a death rattle. "Anyone could ride into town on a donkey with his minions and pretend he is The One. I could so pretend. But why would The Messiah pretend to be The Messiah?"
Yeshua ran his hand along the wall behind him. "Perhaps his subtlety is born of earlier abuses in the time before he learned the wisdom of discretion. Perhaps he wishes to live as a man among men, so that men will hear him without prejudice. Perhaps the irony of it amuses him."
"Amuses Him!" Annas screeched. "The Messiah has no sense of humor!"
"Papa laughs all the time. Why not His Anointed? Men's laughter is the song of their souls and the path to their hearts."
"No! God weeps over the iniquities of Man. God gnashes His teeth in despair at the sins of His people. His Awesome Power waits to mete His swift and terrible Justice upon those who have transgressed His Holy Law."
"It is you do not know Your Father, Annas."
"You will know His Justice soon enough, Yeshua! Do you think this is a game? Do you not know what will happen to you, if you play thus with Pilate?"
Yeshua stretched his back and yawned. "I do not know exactly, but I can imagine."
Annas began to shake with his rage. "Imagine this, you charlatan: tell Pilate your are The King and he will introduce you to the lictor he brought down with him from Cesarea. The last time that monster was here, Pilate had him kill a slave with the flagellum in less than five minutes, just to show us it could be done. A few minutes under that grim scourge and you won't remember your own name. You will soon enough forget your messianic delusions.
"Make no mistake, Yeshua. Pilate will force you to recant this foolishness or he will hang you on a tree for all of Jerusalem to see your defeat."
Annas sagged back and panted. "And if he humiliates you, it will be only to humiliate all of us. And if he kills you, so also will he kill your brother. You cannot want your brother to die in such a horrible way. Answer me, Yeshua. Are you The Messiah?"
"I am." Yeshua walked over to stand before Annas. "Old man, listen to me. The Romans will not play this game with you for much longer. When they decide to crush the Jews, the Sadducees will be first, because they are the closest at hand, because they are the richest among us. Unless you set aside your wealth and leave the city, there is no hope that any of your children will survive."
"You are insane! We cannot leave The Temple!"
"When that day comes, The Temple will burn to the ground."
Annas ripped his opulent robes and howled out the name of the servant. The man bolted through the door.
"Give him back to the soldiers," Annas snarled.
Gabriel watched his son walk quietly out the door with never a backward glance. He wished to follow him, but the vision stayed with Annas. The old man sputtered and swore for a very long time.
Then he glanced down to see he had torn the thick material of his new robe. He looked at his hands as if he had never seen them before, as if they had somehow betrayed him. Annas opened and closed his fists again and again.
He finally put his palms up to his eyes and whispered like a lost child, "But I do not want to believe!"