According to Mary Magdalene (12 page)

L
eonidas went for his bath and Mary conferred with Terentius on dinner to welcome him home. They had fresh fish and a surplus of vegetables.

“You first,” said Mary at the dinner table.

Leonidas' mouth drooped and his reply was brief. “A lot of business in Rome and great problems with Nicomachus. I'll tell you about it all later.”

His smile came back as he went on. “In Ostia, I found a ship ready to depart to Corinth, just imagine. I got a cabin on board and a week later went to see Euphrosyne.”

Mary's eyes shone when he told her how pleased Euphrosyne had been and how happily she had settled in the lovely house and the new garden. She was well, strong and purposeful as always. She sent her warmest greetings to Mary and had sent a long letter.

“She's becoming Christian,” he said. “Did you know?”

“Yes, I gathered that from her letters. I'd hoped we would be able to go there together before the autumn storms set in,” said Mary.

“We can do that. But you seem quite busy.”

“Let's take our wine and go and sit in the library. You shall hear everything that has happened from the very beginning.”

And that they did. Twilight fell, and it grew darker, but they
lit no lamps. When Mary finally fell silent, he had clear pictures of what had happened. As usual, she had made notes of everything that had been said and had read them out to him.

“As you see, I haven't lied,” she said. “Only left some things out.”

“Good.”

He lit the lamps. They looked at each other and smiled.

“I have to tell you there are great antagonisms between the Christians. Jerusalem's Jewish Christian congregation is the largest and the most powerful.”

That upset Mary, but he went on.

“Many of them think Jesus was the Messiah, God”s messenger to the Jewish people. But Paul has another view. He wants the teachings of Jesus to go out to everyone. And the Christians are gaining adherents everywhere, here in Syria, in Cappadocia, in Sicily, yes, even in Rome. And in Greece. I heard about the conflicts from Euphrosyne's deacon in Corinth.”

“Do you mean that Jerusalem's Christians consider that everyone who converts to Christ has first to be a Jew?”

“Yes. They demand that Jesus' followers shall follow the laws, all the innumerable commandments on what is clean and what unclean. And they have to be circumcised, so as you can imagine, that is the biggest stumbling block.”

Mary listened, her eyes wide. “I oughtn't to be surprised.” she said. “Jerusalem's priests have always been strict. Where do his own apostles stand?”

“There's some hesitation there, too. But they say that Jesus urged them to go out into the world and make all the people his disciples.”

“Do you know what Peter thinks?”

“There's a story about Simon Peter and a Roman called Cornelius, an officer in the Italian cohort in Caesarea. One day an angel came to Cornelius and urged him to bring in a man called Simon Peter who lived with a tanner in Joppa.

“The next day, Simon Peter also had a dream. The sky opened and showed him a number of unclean animals. And a
voice said: ‘Rise, Peter; kill and eat.' Simon Peter refused: ‘I have never eaten any thing that is common or unclean.' Then the voice said what God made clean, he, Peter, should not make unclean. You can see he pondered on what this vision meant. But no clarity came to him. A moment later, Cornelius' servant came to the tanner's house by the sea and gave him the Roman's message. Peter departed, went with him to Joppa and visited the heathen. When he heard about Cornelius' meeting with the angel, Peter said: ‘Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons, but in every nation he that feareth him and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.…' There were many people in the Roman's house and they were converted. Peter had them baptized and stayed for several days in Cornelius' unclean house.”

“That was good,” said Mary. “Yet Peter still sees people through Jewish eyes.”

Leonidas went on. “So, then there's Paul. He's at a disadvantage because he has never met the living Master. But he's the most intelligent of them all and is best at putting things into words.”

Leonidas fell silent for a moment, then winked at her.

“You must see that meeting you was a great event for him. They talk about you in the Christian congregations and like everyone else, he has heard that you were the disciple Jesus loved most. And he's sure to have been told that you went into open battle with Peter and left the apostles in Jerusalem. Then you unexpectedly appear here in Antioch. Here, suddenly, as a main witness who was not drawn into all those squabbles.”

Mary smiled. “A woman. And married to a heathen.”

Leonidas laughed too, but said: “Well, anyhow, your reputation is great. You'll do all right for his opinions.”

“I like him. And sometimes I find Peter difficult. He's so dominating and so sure of himself. And yet, Leonidas, he has a light and a force…which I recognize.”

“So do I.”

Leonidas yawned and said they must go to bed.

“May I sleep with you?”

He was pleased, there was no mistaking it. She crept into his arms and he drew the covers over them. He fell asleep immediately. She lay awake, thinking that she had not told him what was perhaps most important to him. That her memories had returned, and she could see in clear images what had happened during her wanderings with Jesus.

A
s so often at this time, Mary woke long before dawn and went wandering with Jesus toward Jordan; it was hot summer in a bleak landscape, the dust flying and the road stony and hard on the feet. And yet it was easy walking.

After them came the disciples, all but Simon and Andrew. She remembered being surprised when she turned around and saw they were missing. Why? She could not remember.

They had to spend the midday hours resting in any shade they could find. But wherever they chose to rest, people assembled, appearing as if from nowhere, just standing there, the halt and the lame, the old bowed with their ailments, and the sick children with their sorrowing mothers. And as always, Jesus went from one to another, putting his hand on their heads and giving them health and new courage.

They reached the river and had to wait quite a while for the ferryman to come with his boat. Mary, sticky with dust and sweat, said, “Let's swim,”

Jesus' followers shook their heads, but Mary had learned to swim in Tiberias. She looked expectantly at Jesus. “Come,” she said.

He laughed and followed her down into the river. They swam, and despite the current it went as easily as a dance. Wet and cool, they reached the other shore, where the ground
was soft with greenery and there were high cypress trees. They sat in the sun for a while to dry their clothes before seeking the shade under the trees.

They were seldom left alone.

The ferry soon arrived, seething with people on board, all them wanting to see and hear Jesus. As so many times before, Mary thought—how does the rumor spread? How do they know? How do they always manage to catch up with us?

“With God's help,” Jesus said, and Mary nodded. But she could see he was weary.

He spoke in the synagogue in Bethsaida and Mary heard him say that man should not worry about the morrow: ‘Consider the lilies of the field.…' Mary thought that this was the core of his message, to have trust. And she remembered their first meeting and what she had experienced as she sat there alone by the stream. A state so self-evident and yet so difficult to capture.

They slept in an ordinary house on good bolsters. In the morning, Mary asked if they could return by boat across the lake, and Jesus nodded, admitting his exhaustion. It was a calm day with no wind. The disciples sat in silence in the boat slowly being rowed toward Capernaum, where more crowds of people were waiting. Simon was waiting on the shore and Mary swiftly got off the boat.

“Simon, can you disperse the people?” she said. “Jesus must be allowed to rest,”

He nodded. “Go in at the back,” he said.

Jesus slept for ten hours that night.

Why had she remembered that journey? It had not been particularly long or strenuous, nothing compared with the long trail to get to Lydda on the coast or across Jericho to Jerusalem. Was it because for the first time she had worried about Jesus? He had complained and that was unlike him. “The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has not where to lay his head,”

But there was another reason why the journey to Bethsaida
was so clear in her memory. When Jesus woke after his long sleep, he looked at her with a smile and said: “Today a great joy awaits you. A man you love is on his way here.”

Mary thought for a long time, then shook her head. “I have loved only one man before I met you. And he has been dead for many years,” she said.

Jesus did not reply, but his warm smile remained.

As they were having breakfast, Simon came to say that Capernaum had been visited by a whole group of scribes, sent by Herod Agrippa to spy, Simon reckoned.

Jesus laughed.

Some men were in the courtyard with a cripple on a stretcher. Jesus at once stopped, went over to the cripple and said that he should not worry, “Son, your sins be forgiven you,” he said.

The learned men standing there waiting to greet the Galilean prophet screwed up their faces in horror, reckoning he was blaspheming.

But Jesus asked them why they bore evil thoughts in their hearts.

There was a long silence among all those who had assembled. But then they heard Jesus' voice. “But that you may know that the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins.…”

Then he turned to the cripple and said: “Arise, take your bed and go into your house.”

The man rose and walked and the people praised God. Only the scribes remained silent, struck dumb, as if unable to believe their own eyes.

Afterward, Jesus walked along the shore and the people crowded around him. There were not only Galileans in Capernaum now, but also people from Judea, Idumea, and from the other side of Jordan; yes, people came to him all the way from Tyrus and Sidon. There were also heathens, Syrians and Greeks in the huge crowd.

Jesus was so hard-pressed that he got into a boat and spoke to them all from out on the lake, his voice never shrill, nor did
he shout. No, his voice was light but could be heard at great distances everywhere.

At midday the crowds at last dispersed. Jesus was to go with his disciples up into the mountains. “You stay here,” he said to Mary.

When he saw her disappointment, he laughed. “Have you already forgotten what I told you this morning?” he said. “Stay here, and wait.”

While Jesus and his disciples took a detour around the house, Mary went to her room to rest. At the doorway, she heard a voice she recognized, distantly, as if from a dream far back in childhood.

“Mary.”

In front of her was a tall Greek, but her eyes refused to take it in. Salome, standing alongside her, saw how pale she had become and put her arm around her.

“You have a bad habit of fainting the moment you see me,” said Leonidas.

It was the voice and the laugh that brought her back to reality, but she clung to Salome as she whispered to him, “But you've been dead for eight years.”

“I wasn't killed, just taken prisoner. Can we sit down and talk together?”

Mary looked at Salome and quickly explained. “This is my stepfather, Salome. He died in a war far away in the kingdom of Parthia and I have mourned him for years and years.”

“I see,” said Salome. “I suggest you go down to the rock by the shore, where the two of you can be alone together.”

As she disappeared, they heard her calling out to the other women that Mary Magdalene's stepfather had come back to her.

Mary's knees were shaking and her steps down toward the Gennesaret were by no means steady.

“I am also shaken,” said Leonidas. “I saw the cripple walking and I heard Jesus' words to the scribes and everything he said from the boat.”

“I'm so used to it, it no longer surprises me,” said Mary. “Yet his words are the most amazing of all. No one has ever spoken like that before.” She fell silent, then said, “No, what is most amazing is he himself, meeting him.”

Leonidas briefly described his capture by the Bedouins and the ransom his sister had paid to free him. Mary realized the explanation was plausible, but…

“It's a miracle, all the same, Leonidas,” she said.

“Yes.”

They were interrupted by Salome, who came with wine, water, bread, and cheese. Leonidas thanked her and they ate in silence. They soon heard Jesus and his disciples on their way back. Leonidas rose, drew his fingers through his hair and brushed the crumbs off his cloak. “We must go and greet him.”

“No,” said Mary. “He'll come here. I think he wants to see you alone.”

She was right. In a moment or so, he was there in front of them, laughing at Mary. “Skeptic,” he said.

His astonished disciples up on the slope were able to see Jesus taking the tall heathen in his arms and kissing him on both cheeks. “Your loyalty will receive its reward in the kingdom of heaven,” he said.

“There's nothing remarkable about this,” said Leonidas. “I have loved this child ever since I first met her.”

Then he fell silent, confused now that he realized the other man already knew everything about him, observed every thought and knew everything he had been through.

Leonidas was filled with serenity and great happiness. He had never realized what a liberation it was to be totally seen through.

That same afternoon, Jesus and his disciples walked through the town. They happened to stop outside the customs house. “As if by chance,” said Simon when he told Mary about it, but she already knew that nothing occurred simply by chance.

Outside the house was Levi the customs collector, also known as Matthew.

And Jesus said to the publican, “Follow me.”

A while later, Levi invited the Master and his disciples to table in his house, and many customs collectors and other sinners were there together with Jesus. Naturally, this caused a great stir.

From the very first, Mary took a liking to Levi, a small man, a great mildness in him, his face bony but his eyes full of warmth and wisdom. She at once felt that the affection was mutual. Both of them, two sinners.

Leonidas had retreated into the crowd of followers, but he stayed fairly near the front when Jesus was speaking that evening on the hillside above Capernaum.

“I thank thee 0 Father, Lord of heaven and earth,” he prayed. “For thou has hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.”

It was challenging. Leonidas glanced at the scribes who had gathered in a large group quite close to Jesus, but their faces were closed, and if they showed any emotion, it was surprise.

They were simple words, easy to comprehend. “Come unto me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me….”

But there were also sentences that went beyond Leonidas' understanding.

“Neither do men put new wine in old bottles, else the bottles break and the wine runneth out…but they put new wine in new bottles and both are preserved.”

Leonidas found sleep difficult that night, not because he was in a tent with other men, for he was used to that, but because the day's events kept him awake.

The next day came with yet another overwhelming event. With his own eyes, he saw Jesus bring a little dead girl back to life.

He had only a few brief moments to talk to Mary. He was full of questions and she stroked his face to console him.

“Don't ask,” she said. “There are no answers that we can find words for.”

“Just one thing, Mary. What did Jesus mean when he said that the reward for my loyalty will be great in heaven.”

“He usually says that the kingdom of heaven is within us.”

By the time Leonidas had departed to return to Antioch ten days later, he was a new man, with no bitterness, feeling strangely empty of protests.

“I'll be back.”

Mary smiled.

“Of course you'll be back,” said Jesus.

Leonidas rode to Caesarea and found a ship on its way to Seleucia. Again, he found it hard to sleep that night. He stood on deck, looking over the sea and up at the stars. There, suddenly, he realized what Jesus had meant with his talk of new wine that must be poured into new bottles.