marriage. At dusk, the mystics shall hold the energy during the unification ritual. A shiver of concern raises the hair on Yeshua’s neck.
Reiti untangles his long limbs and rises with the grace of a crane. “Your dearest friend is deeply wounded.”
Shaking his head, Zsao repeats a long forgotten lesson. “Do not allow worry to occupy space in your being. Release your fear and accept your destiny.”
“I love Teoma like a brother and feel his pain as my own.”
“He honors your friendship and shall give you his blessing this evening.” Belshazzar’s assurance does not allay all of Yeshua’s concerns.
“This morning he asked me to take good care of her. Her mother bemoans that I cannot support her in the rich manner of her father. Without a betrothal ceremony last year, there has not been time, but Teoma would have built her a house with his own hands…”
“Ahh, but your parents have gifted you with a most lovely bridal chamber. At one with nature, Mary shall bask in the experience of sharing intimacies beneath the stars.”
Yeshua’s flushed cheeks bring laughter to their bellies. Still, he worries about Mary struggling to maintain her composure in the face of her mother’s disappointment. Forbidden to see his betrothed before the wedding, he could not even wish her well on her fifteenth birthday, and has been consumed by concern after overhearing Ima complain to Hava that a whole week in their chamam would be diminished by one day in Eucharia’s. The Aksum king clasps his arm.
“Your betrothed is most resilient. She shall perform the first anointing today.”
He thought the women had prepared her for the sacred ritual, not a royal ceremony. How can he be anointed king, while his father and grandfather still live?
Belshazzar’s laughter brightens the morning haze. “Yeshua, you are far from ready to be king; the sacred rite the messeh queen shall perform is the first of eight initiations.”
His eyes widen. Mary is the messeh queen? Only royalty claim this title after being anointed by the High Priest.
“My prince, did you not anoint her upon the altar?” Yeshua nods, throat tight. In his attempt to invite spirit into their physical union, did he claim a priestly privilege? He never questioned where Ima got the sacred spikenard, did Belshazzar…?
The Aksum king nods. But if it is true, today begins his journey to enlightenment! The first of…eight? From the Egyptian Therapeutate, he only learned of seven initiations.
“Two by water, two by fire, two by earth, two by air.” Belshazzar nods at Yeshua’s unspoken query. “The last rite is performed at death.”
Swallowing thickly, he prays to be prepared for the next, “May I ask when the second rite shall be performed?”
Zsao smiles, “The awakening is a long and arduous path. You have much to learn.”
“But who shall teach me? Will you return?”
“Yeshua, those closest are the best teachers. Please take advantage of your wife’s wisdom.” Reiti’s advice is a balm to his ears for he cannot imagine leaving Mary again to travel east.
He thanks each of his dear teachers before passing by the colorfully adorned tent praying his bride will be pleased.
Appeasing his mother, Yeshua covers his fine wedding garments with a cloak before mounting the white donkey. During the walk north, Jacob leads the entourage in song, lightening his brother’s mood. Some of his cousins straggle behind, but Teoma, under Abba’s orders not to be late, shepherds them along. Entering the village of Cana, a quiet synagogue and empty marketplace greets the young men, but the streets leading to the bride’s home swarm with villagers.
“The magistrate invites only Tzadokim to his daughter’s wedding,” a white bearded Chaverim complains. Before Yeshua can address the elder, Teoma nudges him. Herodian guards bar the great wooden gate. Apparently, one of the tetrarchs was invited.
Roman soldiers push the villagers aside making way for the bridegroom. A centurion reins his bay steed close. “May your marriage bear many joyous fruits.”
Yeshua thanks his old friend before entering the immense courtyard. Wealth emanates from the bubbling fountain inlaid with lapis lazuli to the polished marble pillars easily as tall as two men. Servants wash the dust from their feet and hands at an ornate silver kiyyor sitting upon a pedestal before escorting them into a richly draped gathering room. Yeshua is taken aside by his grandfather.
“Saba, why didn’t Jochan come?”
Hillel shakes his head, “Since you did not honor your agreement with the Zadoks, Zechariah refused to allow his son to come.” Yeshua nods, knowing his father is sorely disappointed that his cousins do not support him. “Your bride’s family entertains our enemies.” Hillel points to Herod Phillip speaking intimately to the Roman tribuni. Nearby the kings of Tarsus and Nabataea seek Belshazzar’s attention. In embroidered robes of the finest silk, Tzadokim enjoy ripe cheeses and stuffed figs. The jewels worn by just these few men could be sold to feed half of Galilee.
Even in a simple robe, Joseph sits proudly next to the richly adorned magistrate. Syrus signals for his daughter’s bridal trunk to be opened. The men express their appreciation of the display: exquisite household linens and ceremonial cloths as well as sacred ritual objects used on Shabbat, a copper pomegranate filled with precious fragrant spices, magnificent menorahs, and a pair of gilded sandals for him.
Saul acts as scribe, recording the exchange of property—a vast parcel of land west of Nazareth, a palace in Migdol, and enough gold to support his family until Yeshua is an old man.
With flushed cheeks, Joseph motions for his nephews to carry in the massive cedar table that took him a year to complete. “And the best of my vineyards will grace this table for twelve seasons.”
Within the silence, Yeshua perceives the Tzadokim wryly wondering about their local magistrate who would give his precious daughter for such a pittance.
Joseph of Arimathaea stands. “Unless you have partaken of my friend’s wine you cannot appreciate how rare and precious it is.” Teoma’s uncle is wealthier than any ten of the wedding guests and favored by Caesar as minister of the emperor’s mines; only Herod’s sons are more powerful.
After the ketuba is signed by witnesses, Ananias laughs, “Syrus, if I would have known you had such refined taste, I would have offered my vineyards in Damascus.”
Yeshua had no idea the High Priest had designs on Mary as bride for his son. Holding the circle of lambskin she embroidered with the emblem of their union—a star within a rose—he prays she will be pleased with his gift.
***
A beautiful cedar trunk ornately carved, obviously the work of Yeshua’s father, is placed before me by two robust servants. Ima hurries them out as my aunts, cousins, and grandmother, even my aged wetnurse gather round. Miriam sits with her sister and Hava at the back of the room, while little Esther and Ruth stuff themselves with dates.
Wed to the son of a rich textile merchant from Sepphoris just last month, my sister pushes back her richly bejeweled headdress. Although anxious for the house in Magdala to be prepared for
