Journey of the Pearl. A. E. Smith
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Jamin and John carried the body of Demas to the burial field. Jamin watched as Demas was properly buried. Jamin turned to John. “Demas said something just before he died, but I could not hear him. Could you?”
“No, but the big legionary and the centurion were close enough to hear. Of course, Demas spoke in Hebrew, so you’ll probably never know.”
“The centurion speaks Hebrew.”
“Then he would have heard every word, even what Yeshua said.”
“I wish I could talk to him without the other soldiers around.”
John gazed off into the distance. “You know when my Lord died, I couldn’t. . .I couldn’t believe he was really gone. I was so sure he was the Messiah. Did you hear what the centurion said? I thought my ears were playing tricks on me.”
“Yes, I heard him, too. He said Yeshua must be the Son of God. Why would a Roman say that about someone he had just executed? But he is not a typical Roman. He was respectful.”
“I noticed that as well. I told Joseph and Nicodemus.”
Back inside the city they parted ways. Jamin returned to Cleopas’s house. He climbed onto the roof and sat on his mat. He curled his knees up to his chin, folded his arms around his shins, and sobbed. Jamin cried aloud, “God, why do you hate me? Why do you turn your face from me? You let the Romans kill my whole family. You let me believe in. . .in a dead man. Why don’t you kill me, too?” There was only silence.
Beyond grief, Jamin contemplated a yellow glow in the darkening sky. The rising moon was huge against the background of squat houses terracing the hillsides. Slowly, it rose higher, shrinking as it changed to a brilliant white. Jamin shivered in spite of the warm evening. His family was dead. His faith was dead. His hope was dead. Jamin wanted to be just as dead.
Across the city, the chief priests entered Herod’s Palace to beg Pilate for a favor.
“Governor, the Nazarene claimed he would live again on the third day. We request that you order a guard for the tomb so his disciples cannot steal the body.”
Pilate grunted with disdain. “You have your own security guards. Superstition is not a concern of the Roman Empire. What do we care if your gullible people believe a dead man lives? You have a guard; go your way, make it as secure as you know how.”
They left, grumbling among themselves. A chief priest said, “It may be too late already. They could have carried the body off without burying it.”
“Yes, that is possible,” agreed Joseph Caiaphas. “Perhaps we should see the tomb for ourselves. We know where they took the body. If his followers have already hidden it, then we will accuse Pilate for allowing this deception.”
Caiaphas and the others took the road to the old quarry, now converted into a burial garden. At the gate, they were surprised to find a squad of Roman soldiers standing guard. They glanced at each other, puzzled, but decided to ask no questions. Perhaps someone at the Antonia assigned the soldiers to guard the tomb, even though Pilate refused. The chief priests didn’t care why the soldiers were there. They smiled with relief and turned away.
Chapter 6
It was the morning after the High Sabbath. Jamin was startled awake by the crash of a wooden keg onto stone pavement, followed by the loud cursing of several voices. Jamin lay on his mat, staring at the sky. On Cleopas’ roof, he felt safe during the night, where no wild animals could attack or thieves plunder. But it was awkward being around Cleopas and his wife, considering they believed in Yeshua, even to the end. He was grateful Cleopas employed him, but he couldn’t bear another day in Jerusalem. In fact, he couldn’t bear another day of life.
He rolled up his pallet and stuffed it in his knapsack. It would be a nice donation to a street beggar. The sky was just beginning to lighten as the sun embraced the horizon. Jamin could see a few wind-teased clouds in the east. There was a gentle breeze, free of dust and the smoke of cookfires. This was once Jamin’s favorite time of day. Not a time of darkness with its many dangers, nor midday with the bustle of people, but a time in between when dreams were recalled and plans were a possibility.
Jamin lowered the ladder and crept down. He paused in front of the house to adjust his knapsack when he heard someone walking from around the street corner. It was Cleopas.
“Jamin!” Cleopas called out, seeing the knapsack. “This is how you repay my hospitality? Leaving without a farewell? How can you do this to Mary, especially now? She has witnessed the death of Yeshua and your brother. She would be so hurt if you left without saying good-bye. Please, come inside. We need to discuss something with you.”
Cleopas’ hurt expression made Jamin pause. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disturb anyone and you and Mary have already done so much for me, but I must be going.”
“Why? Mary and I wish you would stay here permanently. I will promote you to apprentice and full pay.” He glanced at the knapsack. “So where are you going?”
“Somewhere—away from here. But thank you for the offer. It is most generous.”
“Why don’t you stay for breakfast, then perhaps I can help you get out of Jerusalem for a few days? I must go to Emmaus and I need a traveling companion. Mary wants me to invite her cousin’s family to visit since they could not come for Passover. Besides, I have some interesting news I’d like to share with you when you’re ready to hear it. Will you go with me?” Jamin could not refuse. Cleopas and Mary had treated him and Demas like sons.
In another part of the city, a small group of women carrying spices and oils were walking to the tomb of Yeshua. Even though it was a beautiful morning with a soft breeze and the trill of songbirds among the terebinth trees, the women were unaware of the beauty. They could only concentrate on the task at hand. To the east, the budding sunrise was majestic as rays of light radiated through air-brushed clouds. The colors of the clouds changed from ruby red to vermilion pink edged with citrine. But the women kept their eyes on the ground. They discussed what to do if they could not move the stone sealing the tomb. Grief clutched at their hearts, but they were determined to finish this last task. They walked past Golgotha with bowed heads.
As they approached the garden, they could see the tamarisk and terebinth trees that bordered the garden walls on three sides. The abandoned hillside quarry made up the fourth side and held the numerous caves which had been sold as tombs. A stone arch served as the gateway into the garden. The tombs and the arch faced the east. When they entered the garden, they saw four Roman soldiers guarding the tomb. Adas saw them approaching and was about to hail them when the earth gave a violent jolt and began to shake.
Alarmed, the women cried out. They tried to keep their balance without dropping their precious burial spices and perfumes. A man clothed in brilliant white with a radiant appearance suddenly stood before the tomb. Without a word, he looked at the soldiers, and they collapsed to the ground.
Mary Magdalene dropped to her knees in fear. “It is the angel of the Lord!” she cried. “Cover your eyes!”
The angel grasped the heavy stone with both hands. With no effort, he broke the stone away from the concrete seal, and rolled it away. With a gentle voice, the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know you seek Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; He has risen, just as He said. Come and see the place where He lay. Then go quickly and tell His disciples this message, ‘He has risen from the dead and is