LITMIR.BIZ

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do not wish to speak of it,” retorted Mary. “Events long ago and far away. I have found peace here.”

      “Forgive us, Mary. I wish to speak to you of earlier times.”

      Mary erupted, her speech hurried. “The brutal mockery of it all! Innocent of charges against him! Executed between two thieves instead of Barabbas, that murderous criminal. Over his head a pine board that proclaimed him King of the Jews. A warning to other upstarts that this cruelty is what awaited them also.”

      Her eyes flashed. “And what have you?” Her head turned from one man to the other. “Do you have sons who are willing to die for him as my James did?”

      “Calm, Mama, please!” Elizabeth cried.

      There was a tense silence, broken at last by Barnabas.

      “Peter and Paul were willing. I pray that Mark and I also will be willing if we are put to the test.”

      Mark raised a hand to silence him. He addressed Mary.

      “Please. We are not here to speak of Jerusalem long ago. Please. We need your help with much earlier years.”

      His voice was calm and soothing. The tension evident in Mary’s face subsided.

      “I will state again why we are here. Your son learned so much from Joseph and you. His knowledge of scripture began in his childhood. That is why we have come, to hear stories of his growth to manhood before he went to his kinsman, John the baptizer.”

      Mary sighed. “Ah, the old stories. Others have come to question me. I kept my silence.”

      “Before Peter’s death.” Mark went on, “we heard so many stories from him. And other events were told to us when we recently visited Galilee.”

      Barnabas spoke. “From Paul we learned what he had heard of the Master’s teachings. Paul was very clear with us that stories of the childhood of Jesus might be helpful among the Gentiles.”

      Mary replied with a voice filled with sarcasm.

      “Oh, yes. Let us bring more Gentiles in. A whole world of Gentiles! You can tell them this from Mary, his mother. My firstborn was always exceptional. Every day was filled with blissful peace and joy. Of course, there were six other children along the way, accounts to keep for a busy husband with an expanding trade, wash to get done, meals to prepare, animals to be fed as well, the cow milked, and the stalls cleaned.” She snorted again. “Holy Mother, indeed.”

      She held her gnarled hands up and turned them from front to back. “What tales do these hands relate, hmm?”

      Mark glanced from Barnabas to Mary. “Please, you two.” He nodded to Elizabeth. “Your daughter is right. Calm yourselves. Let us breathe normally.”

      He laid his hands palm down on the table.

      “I will begin again. I have a commission from Peter.”

      “Peter is dead, as is Paul.”

      Mark smiled. “Perhaps we call it that but I believe they live among the blessed now.”

      “As does Joseph, my husband. A righteous man.”

      Mark nodded. “Please, hear me out.”

      Mary leaned back as Mark continued.

      “Peter and I had long conversations in Rome in the weeks before he, like your son, was crucified. There are revolts brewing all around the Empire for reasons more than the taxes Nero has levied to rebuild inner Rome after the fire. Peter believed a double test of faith is upon us. One is that believers are falling away among those who believed the Master would return quickly. He has not. Among the Thessalonians, the Cappadocians, even in Antioch and Alexandria, skeptics have arisen who are bold to say the Way is based on falsehood. The ambitious striving and self-assurance of such men seems to answer the doubts of a significant number of the former faithful. Their new masters of faith attract them to ways contrary to the true Way.

      “The other test arises from places of renewed rebellion within the Empire. In Judea, Galilee and elsewhere, false messiahs have sprung up, calling anew for the overthrow of Roman rule. Such men scoff at the Way of the Master. Many of those who formerly were faithful are now joining the militants, whose lives are bent on destruction and ruin rather than on patient endurance in affliction.”

      “Yes,” Elizabeth spoke up. “I have heard such talk in The Community in Ephesus from those who question the Elders.”

      Her mother eyed Mark. “And the commission you have been given?”

      Mark leaned closer.

      “I composing an account. Barnabas is my scribe. But almost nothing is known of the Master’s life before his baptism, an old ritual given new meaning in turbulent times. All the events that Peter and the others experienced occurred after Jesus called them to follow him. We have many details from Galilee and Judea of those events, but I need your help with the earlier days.”

      “It will not be a glorification, then?”

      “No. It will be the beginning of my account. The coming of the Good News. I mean it to inspire those who are new in faith and to support those who believed from the beginning.”

      “An account of my son’s life and death.”

      Mark gave her a long look before continuing.

      “An account of his life and death and life again.” He turned his hands on the table palms up. “It has been more than thirty years. Many of the faithful believed he would return in triumph by now, leading all the angels of heaven to form the Kingdom of God on earth.”

      Barnabas nodded and spoke. “Peter said a clear account of what happened is needed in these troubled times. It will remind the weak and fainthearted that we may trust the Master and know him truly as the Son of the Most High.”

      “My son,” said Mary.

      “Yes, fully human,” agreed Mark. “But one sent from God to free us from the barriers that separate us from one another. He helps us to see all people with the eyes of God.”

      Mary pursed her lips. “Quite an undertaking, this account of yours.”

      “It is almost finished. I wish to keep it brief enough so that it may be read out at The Community meetings, here in Ephesus and elsewhere. To be read wholly, or in successive parts before the Meal of Remembrance.” His eyes were serious. “I need your help with the beginning.”

      He paused before continuing. “But first there is one matter in which your clarification is essential. You have spoken of your husband. Joseph.”

      “A holy man. A good husband. A devoted father.”

      Barnabas spoke. “There are some who say—” He paused and glanced at Mark. Mark nodded.

      Barnabas continued. “There are some who say Joseph was not the father of Jesus. Some other man. Perhaps a Roman soldier.”

      “Rubbish,” Mary muttered.

      “We must be truthful, you see.” Mark said.

      Barnabas nodded and spoke emphatically. “One example. We have been told that your betrothal to Joseph extended far longer than usual. The reason? Allegedly a long visit to your kinswoman in Jerusalem. When you returned your womb was large with child. The child of a man of Cana or of someone whom you met in Jerusalem.”

      Mary slapped both hands on the table and scowled. “Rubbish!” she repeated.

      “I will speak plainly,” Mark calmly continued. “We do not fear what is true. What matters is the open tomb on the day after Sabbath. The beginning for us is the inner meaning of your son’s baptism by John. Perhaps he was a bastard son, adopted at the Jordan River to be the Son of the Most High.”

      “No!” hissed Mary. “That is falsehood!”

      No one spoke.

      “Mama?”

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