Son of Man
Bethany paused in the doorway of her home, her deep green eyes reflecting the dusky orange glow of the sky. She stared, unblinking, at a mountain of thick clouds surrounding the ball of orange flame sinking rapidly in the west. The glory of the sunset’s last rays cast their glow on her tanned face, and her hair, black as a raven’s wing, curled across her forehead in the slight evening breeze.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turning, beheld the unsmiling face of her mother, Tamar.
“Mother.” The word was restrained.
“Where have you been, Bethany? Didn’t I ask you to go to the well and bring me back some water?” Her mother’s voice was stern, unrelenting.
“Yes, Mother, you did, and I brought some back.” She paused. “It’s here.” Bethany gestured to a clay jar at her feet, leaning against the doorframe. Tamar only glanced at it long enough to see that it was full, fixed her gaze again on Bethany’s face, and said with a calm certainty, “You left this house as soon as you finished your lunch. It doesn’t take as long as that to fill a jar with water. Where have you been?”
Bethany had no choice. “I…I went to see the Rabbi, with Abigail and Ben.” Her two best friends.
Tamar’s face hardened, her eyes flashed. “I told you to stay away from the Rabbi! He’s a blasphemer!”
“Mother please, you should listen-”
“I won‘t! Why did you disobey me?” She demanded icily.
Bethany knew why. The Rabbi spoke the truth. She wanted to listen to His words, words that seemed far wiser than those of other certain religious leaders who were twice his age. Leaders who were haughty and rich, who thought only of themselves. This new Rabbi, he seemed poor, yet he had the nobility of a king. Just by looking at his face, Bethany was filled with awe. “I don’t try to purposely disobey you, Mother-”
“Then why did you go and listen to that…that-Hypocrite?” Tamar spat the word out like it was poison.
“Because I know he speaks the truth! You should listen-” Bethany tried again.
Her mother cut her short. “What? How dare you advise Me to listen to that beggar! I’ve had enough of your insolence. You dishonourable girl! You will have no meal tonight, and your father’ll learn of this impudence. Go on! Get out of my sight!” Tamar stared coldly at her daughter, eyes flashing.
Bethany ran. She fled from the room and out the door, eyes brimming. She couldn’t see, but she knew she had to get away. Away from her mother’s harsh words. What was wrong with the Rabbi? What did her mother have against him? He was only a teacher!
Or so she thought.
She found herself knocking on Abigail’s door, face pale and expressionless.
“Bethany!” Michael, Abigail’s mother, opened the door letting out the smell of freshly baked bread. “What’s the matter? Why are you out-and so late?” She spoke kindly, her brown eyes filled with concern. She was one of them, a follower of the Rabbi.
“My mother…” Bethany looked away.
Michael nodded sympathetically. “Come and have dinner with us. Abigail should be pleased to see you.” She smiled, “My husband is out at the moment, but He’ll be home soon. Come in.”
Bethany followed Michael inside, where the table was laden with fresh bread and fish. Abigail was loading food on a plate for her father, and Samuel, her baby brother, was playing with the dog. “Beth!” For a minute Abigail looked surprised, but her expression quickly changed to one of concern when she saw Bethany’s pale, tear-stained face. “You alright?”
Bethany nodded, meaning to answer, but Michael stopped any further conversation with “Shhh Abby! Let Beth rest and eat. Her mother’s angry with her.” She nodded knowingly- “The Rabbi.”
As if that said it all.
Again Bethany nodded, viewing Michael with surprise. What a sharp person to have deducted all this by merely looking at her face! “Mother is angry because I disobeyed her instruction of not listening to the Rabbi. She doesn’t see him the same way I do, and it makes me sad, but I can’t help it can I?” She wiped a single tear from her cheek. “She’ll watch me like a hawk watches a mouse! I don’t want to disobey her though, so I might stay away from the Rabbi now.” She sighed despairingly. “I wish I could live with you because then I wouldn’t be disobeying if I went to listen to Him.”
Abigail nodded and looked at her mother. Michael stooped to pick up Samuel and shook her head decisively. “Your mother may be harsh, but she loves you. It’s only because you believe what she thinks blasphemy that makes her angry, and even though you know the Rabbi speaks the truth, you’ve got to remember that your mother doesn’t, and she’s your guardian. Leaving home now is not really a possibility, Bethany. Your mother and father do need you.” Bethany nodded, knowing Michael’s wisdom was based on experience. “Maybe they’ll see sense in what the Rabbi says…some day.” She said this with a strong sense of false hope, although her eyes betrayed the sad acknowledgement of the truth. Tamar would never listen or believe anything Jesus of Nazareth said. She scorned him with an intense hate, and Bethany knew in her soul that her mother would remain that way until the day she died.
As for her father, Cassius, his position as a soldier who served under Pilate, the Roman governor also caused him to uphold a certain dislike for this new teacher. Especially because he was a Jew. Bethany wasn’t sure though, if he would stay like that forever. Her father was more pliable than her mother.
Anyway, why should she care so much just because her parents wouldn’t listen? Jesus was, after all, only a teacher. Still, Bethany couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that He was somehow different from all the teachers she’d ever known. What he spoke seemed logically sensible, if that made any sense. This was getting her nowhere though, she thought.
Just wait.
“Well, I’ll do as you say, Michael, and stay at home. But only because you said so.” She frowned. “For now”. Afterthought.
“You do well to listen to advice Beth. Remember that, all the time.” Michael’s face portrayed grave thoughtfulness.
Abigail smiled, and silence reigned as they finished setting the table.
But it was soon to be broken by a heavy footfall outside the door, approaching slowly, tiredly. Moishe, Abigail’s father, opened it and stood silhouetted against the gold-tinted evening sky. His tanned face looked work-worn. Thick black hair curled over his forehead, one lock dangling above his deep brown eyes.
Michael rushed to him and took his cloak, bidding him sit down and rest. “Aah Michael.” He looked down at her as she busily removed his dusty sandals.
“Are you tired, my husband? Abigail’ll bring you some bread and meat.” Michael spoke softly, aware that her husband seemed worried.
Moishe nodded, staring at the wall. He looked up, eyes intensely grave. “Bethany.” Her name was said as a statement.
She looked down respectfully.
“Hows your mother and father?” He spoke uncertainly.
“My mother doesn’t want to see me, because I disobeyed her. She hates the Rabbi, that teacher from Galilee.” Bethany’s voice was low, a touch of regret sounding in her words.
Moishe nodded as Abigail put a plate of food before him on the table. “You aren’t…wrong, to listen to the Rabbi. His words are wise, well beyond his years. His hair is not even grey! I saw him heal a blind man with my own eyes!” His words were filled with awe. “Do any of the other teachers perform these miraculous signs? No! The rich fools! Jesus of Nazareth is different-almost…holy.”
They looked at him as a new touch of wonderment crept into his voice.
“He seems like a king…but, they say he was born in a stable-in Bethlehem.” Moishe shook his head in disbelief and picked up the bread from his plate. At last he ate.
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