All Who Came Before. Simon Perry
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The late morning conversation in Yudah’s garden was interrupted by shouting from his gate. “Yudah, Yudah,” a voice short of breath bellowed from beyond and sent panic bouncing around the warming stonework of the haven.
3
Yudah was in no hurry. But then he never had been in a hurry of any kind and had gained too many pounds to start now. His eyes stayed with the brothers as he made an economic gesture towards his gate. “Now, let’s see what trouble you’ve brought with you,” he laughed, and touching Yeshua’s shoulder, carried his hefty frame towards the commotion. It was more than the depth of his voice. The strength of Yudah’s presence, like a tonic, continued to work its magic long after he had excused himself from their company. So present had he been to Yeshua, so inside this intolerable situation, and yet without condemnation or even shock, that a feeling of normality prevailed. Yeshua reclined, closed his eyes and, for the first time in an eternity, drew a breath unpolluted by fear.
Peace came likewise to the garden, with Yudah calming his new guest by waving his palms towards the floor. The conversation at the gatehouse was hurried but hushed, and Yeshua presumed that the agitated visitor was bringing news of events in the market place. The panic-stricken messenger, barely twenty years of age, looked awkward in his own body, which seemed far bigger than the person that rattled around inside it. His spirit and his manners of expression were no more under his control than was his physique, and all conspired to draw Yudah to share their panic. If there existed a negative version of all that their host embodied, it stood before him in the form of this young man.
“Well, we can’t be blamed for not planning this part of our journey too well,” Theudas yawned.
“Why’s that?” asked Yeshua, still transfixed by the gatehouse drama.
“Er—because we never expected to be making it.”
Yeshua turned to his brother and felt a burden lift as he chuckled through his nose.
“We shouldn’t have pulled this off. We should be dead by now. Who knows what we’ve got to face next!”
“What have we started?”
“I don’t know but if it’s revenge you want then perhaps we should stick around and see it through”
“See it through?”
“Er—Look at them,” Theudas threw his eyes across his motionless head towards the gate, as though Yeshua hadn’t noticed the scene. “This morning we watched an innocent man die . . . There’ll be repercussions, Yeshua. Look at Yudah!”
Yudah exuded confidence through every pore of his skin. He was clearly in authority over his conversation partner. His guest, already calmed, was now nodding carefully, Yudah waving his hands as though every object around him were awaiting his instruction. They were obviously not simply exchanging market place news.
“Yudah has always had a revolutionary streak about him, you know that. Who knows who he knows and what he might be suggesting? But we’re in this now, it’s our doing and we must honor our brothers by seeing this through.”
“Seeing this through?” Yeshua repeated. “We’ve played our part in this. The violence started before us and it will end long after us. Our job is done. An eye for an eye.”
“We may not have any choice,” Theudas shrugged as Yudah returned from his conversation.
“Sorry about that, boys,” smiled Yudah as he clapped his hands together. “Just getting an update on your handiwork. I look forward to hearing more about this. But first things first, what do you need?”
“Drink!” they replied in unison.
With that a young woman appeared, carrying a jug of water, several cups and a bowl of ripe fruit.
“You answer me before I call,” Yudah nodded with satisfaction. The woman smiled but did not withdraw as would be expected of a servant. He placed his hand insider hers and the two of them broke into a smile. “You don’t remember Miriam then?” asked Yudah, as his daughter took a seat beside him.
“But you are only ten years old!” Yeshua smiled, “or at least you were last time we saw you, which must have been years.” He thought it best not to inquire after the whereabouts of her husband.
“Fifteen!” she smiled. The only memorable feature to have survived intact the passage to adulthood was her long, dark brown hair. Her face carried hints of a past beyond reach of Yeshua’s consciousness. As she looked at him, he recalled her warmest trait. She had an air of mischief about her, poised always on the verge of a warm smile that promised to show itself at the next word to fall from your lips.
“Are you staying long?” she asked.
“No,” said Yeshua, oblivious to the disapproval of Theudas. “We’re heading back to Egypt at first light.”
“Never mind,” she smiled as her attention was drawn by Theudas’ discomfort with his brother’s hasty answer. “Hopefully it won’t be another fifteen years before I see you again.” With that she withdrew from their company, taking with her the smiles and attentions of all three men, before Yudah regained his more serious demeanor.
“Well, we have plenty of time, and you clearly need to spill your guts to someone so why don’t you tell me the whole story?” He had looked through Yeshua’s eyes and penetrated his Spirit.
Yeshua took a deep sip, wiped his lips and began. “You know my family, Yudah. My older brothers were always faithful to Moses and the Prophets. But it was only this year that we got as far as visiting Jerusalem. They wanted to offer sacrifices on the mountain where Abraham himself had consented to sacrifice his firstborn. They worshipped the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. ‘Adonai is our shield and stronghold,’ were the last words Yotham ever said to me. But there was no divine protection from the soldiers hidden in the crowds.”
“The crowds were the protesters, right?”
“Yeh, some protest to do with an aqueduct. The demonstration was outside the prefect’s garrison, near to the temple, and we had to weave our way through the crowds to make it from the temple to the city gate. The prefect was treating the crowds to a pep talk. But . . . as we were trying to push our way through, he called a magic word that must have been a hidden command for his soldiers.” Yeshua puffed out a long sigh as he shook his head.
“They were armed only with canes, hidden under their tunics.” At this point Yeshua stopped, realizing he had recounted this event to no one but his father. Unable to continue, Theudas took over.
“I don’t know how many they killed, I wasn’t even there . . . Yeshua got separated in the crowd . . . He didn’t find Yotham and Saul until it was all over.” Theudas made several false starts before continuing. The only detail of this story that really mattered to Theudas was the outcome. It was all that interested him, and all he could recall. “He butchered our brothers. Our innocent brothers. Simple as that.”
“How