The Adventures of the Thirteenth Apostle

Chapter 1

On the Road at Last

I had thought about this night for over a year. We did not want to risk waking anyone, so we walked in darkness. Any light, even the small flame of a candle, might alert the family to our presence. We moved slowly, feeling our way, pausing often as every bump or misstep resonated in our ears. When I stopped, Justin pushed into me and whispered, Sorry, I can’t even see my own hand in front of my face.

That’s okay, just put your hand on my shoulder and try to stay behind me. I responded. At last, we found the room we were looking for. Just stand where you are and I’ll get it. I whispered. The minutes ticked by as I searched the room, each small noise I made grating on my nerves. I feared at any minute the whole house would awaken and we’d be caught. Finally, I found it. I wasted no time signaling to Justin. I think we have all that we will need, make a sound and I’ll find you.

You are somewhere just to my right as far as I can tell, was the answer, as a hand reached out and found me.

Follow me about ten steps to the doorway and we will be out of here. We cautiously found our way. I knew well the placement of everything in the room, but it was still difficult to maneuver it in the total darkness that surrounded us. I found the latch, and with relief, stepped outside and moved toward the road. At least now the stars glowed in the inky darkness, shedding some light on our path. We said little as we walked, still focused on finding our way without making much noise.

I knew we’d reached the main road when I felt the wheel ruts beneath my feet. We used them to guide us, walking in the hollow wells the wheels made in the soft earth. We took our time - we had a long journey ahead of us and could not afford even a stubbed toe to slow us down.

The tension and anticipation that we felt at the house slowly faded as we continued onward. In my heart I was not quite sure what lay ahead of us in Jerusalem. I was not alone as I had planned to be; now Justin was with me. And what if when we get there, it is not what I hoped it would be? After all, I was sent home when we first met. My mind sought for answers but none came.

It was almost an hour before the first light of dawn started to rise in the east, offering with it the promise of a new day. With the light, I knew that our quest had now begun in earnest, and that there was no turning back from whatever it was we’d find in Jerusalem.

Everything seemed calm as we walked on together. We were miles from the house and had avoided confrontation there, for which I was grateful. We had found what we were looking for; having it with us would guarantee a much easier trip. With each minute and each step there was more light for us to see by, and thoughts of what we left behind changed to what was now ahead, calling to us in Jerusalem. We were leaving behind what we had trusted in for all our lives and beginning a new life. We hoped to meet Jesus and join him, if he would accept us. A year ago, he sent me away, and I was returning without being called. My heart wanted to be with Him, and so I tried to set aside the many what if’s that crept into my thoughts. Everything depended on him accepting us.

As dawn broke on the distant horizon, Justin spoke up. Matthew, we really did it. We are on our way at last. I heard his voice trail off as he finished his words, and I didn’t miss the concern as he spoke.

I answered him not out of any hurt or frustration, but as friend to friend. "Justin I have told you many times this is my desire; you do not have to follow me to meet him. In truth, I do not know what to expect when we do get there. But I will tell you I have never wanted, or needed to do something more than this. I’m glad for your company, but I have no idea what will happen when we get there." My words sounded empty and hollow to my ears. Even as I spoke, I knew my mind was beginning to question what I knew in my heart.

I know you tried to persuade me not to come, but there are a couple of reasons I had to be here with you. Justin responded. When you returned from Jerusalem you had changed. When you told me about Jesus, at first I did not see what you saw as I listened to you. I could not understand the change in you, or how much he meant to you. As you told me more about him, and how he spoke to and treated ordinary people, I wanted to meet him myself. Anyway, you are my best friend and someone needs to be there to keep you from getting into too much trouble.

I couldn’t help but smile. Thank you. I truly am glad to have you here with me. I was really impressed you were willing to sell all the things you had; I know how hard you worked to get them. With so many unknowns … It’s nice not to be alone.

I am Matthew, the first-born son of Joseph and Anna of Beersheba. For almost ten years I have worked closely with my father, learning his trade and helping him to run the family business. Though I am young, only twenty three, Father has given me much authority and responsibility in running our business. My three brothers, Thad, Aaron and Michael, all work with us as well. Of all of my father’s sons, I am the only one who ever wanted to learn the management side of things. My brothers are content to do whatever physical labor is required.

Father started this business on his own, with hard work; long hours, and fair practice. The business and his reputation grew steadily. I was a novelty at first, a boy quite young with his father, learning how to buy and sell. But soon men of business started asking for me. As I learned more and grew older, Father accepted my abilities and it became my responsibility to deal with merchants when they came to do business with us.

For the last several years as younger agents or buyer-sellers would come, many preferred to do business with me. Father is fully aware that he is much older than most of the men that we do business with, so if they wanted to work with me, and I could make the sale, he was for it. Father was content to see the steady growth as he watched his sons and the family prosper in what he had begun.

As far back as I could remember there had always been a division between my brothers and myself. Being almost three years older than Thad, I was the one trained in the management of the business. When the others were young they liked to play together, and so were given tasks they could do together such as moving things, sweeping and cleaning up. As they got older they were given bigger jobs but with similar responsibilities. Though they may have lacked motivation in their work, they certainly knew how to put on a party. All three of them earning a steady wage made for enough money to buy wine, and friends were never hard to find. They were not drunks, but by the beginning of each week their money was gone and they were already planning for their next celebration.

My brothers occasionally found women who would join them in their revelry, but the women they chose always seemed to carry the same listless spirits that characterized my brothers. There were times when their friends would express interest in me, but I never cared for them, and wasn’t looking for a partner. I was labeled unfriendly, and my brothers never argued that fact. The felt rift between my brothers and me only widened when their guests preferred me to them. It’s not hard to see why – I was the more stable brother, but I wasn’t interested in knowing them.

My one true friend, growing up, was Justin; and I must admit I could not have survived those years without him being there to help me. We met when we were children and I liked him right away. He accepted me and I accepted him. He lived several miles from us, so it wasn’t until we were old enough to wander away from the house alone that we became close.

As young men Justin and I were always finding new adventures. We’d often spend summer nights in the meadows or woods where we’d tell stories, count the stars and fight off bugs as we tried to get some sleep. In our older years we did some game hunting, but we would have starved if we needed to live off of our kills. Justin’s family was poor and they farmed for a living; I lived in a big house, worked and earned my own money. All the money their family earned was used to keep the family going, so he had little to call his own.

When we hunted we seldom caught any game because Justin loved to talk. That is not a bad thing, unless you are trying to get close enough to shoot an animal with a bow and arrow. Despite our lousy hunting record, as we walked the hills we engaged in another equally productive activity. I taught him to read and count. Justin came from a social class that rarely had the money to get a proper formal education, or was prevented from learning so that they would always be dependent on educated people. Justin was bright; teaching him was just part of the games we played together. There were no tests or lectures, just two kids counting trees or rocks, or drawing letters on the ground with a stick. I knew Justin shared his knowledge with his family, for when I first went to their house none could read, but years later they were all functionally literate. They were always glad to see me when I came around, and I became a part of their family when I was with them. I noticed how little they had, and though they worked hard, they were happy, and I had fun being there. I felt the difference between Justin’s family and my own. When I was at home I had almost nothing to do with my brothers. I tried to accept them, but they had no goals other than preparing for their next party. It was strange, but I envied the closeness and caring Justin’s family had, and I was happiest when I was with them, teasing and joking and being part of something honest and real. My parents were very loving and kind to us all, but there was no denying the divide between their eldest son and the others. As the sun dawned that first morning, Justin asked me how I could sell everything I had worked so long and hard for and get so little for it.

Matthew, I know you got a lot of money but everything you sold was worth ten times what you gained. He went on, "Everything I sold of mine didn’t even bring me one gold coin, and I would guess you have about a hundred."

I responded, I may have sold all I have, but so did you. If we planned to keep the money, then mine is worth more. But since we are going to give this money to Jesus to help the poor, all is all, whether it is big or small.

So you’re saying I am giving as much as you?

In a way yes, for you have worked harder than I did to earn and buy the things that you sold, so their true value is as great as mine.

I think you’re just being kind. A small bag of copper coins and only one silver one does not equal the value of yours.

Well, we won’t know that for sure until we find Jesus, but I think he will be just as happy to receive yours as mine. Justin, speaking of money, if we were found with this much money on us it would probably mean our deaths. No one would steal so much and believe we wouldn’t seek revenge. I have a nice fat pouch of coins like you, but it is for our traveling business, and to keep anyone that might try to rob us from looking any further if that should happen. If we do meet with trouble, don’t give up your coins too quickly, but don’t refuse to surrender them if it will keep you from harm. You are worth far more than your coins to me. If we have nothing when we arrive in Jerusalem I do not think Jesus will send us away.

Thank you, I am not sure I can say the same about you.

I asked him what he meant. He said, Well, for a hundred gold coins I’m sure I could rent a friend that doesn’t pick on me as much as you do.

That may be true, but would he have as much fun doing it as I do?

Probably not … does that mean I’m stuck with you?

It would seem so. We had to laugh. I had no doubt that Justin would give his life if he could save mine, and I would do that for him too. There is a bond of love and respect we share between us that made both our lives happier being together.

We have two choices how to get to Jerusalem; one is faster, the other safer. If we stay on the main road we can be there in just over two days. If we take the side roads or hill paths it will take us three to four days, but it will be much safer. I said, moving on.

We have food and the weather is good. I think safe is better than worrying about Roman soldiers or robbers every time we see anyone or anything moving. Justin replied.

I agree. If anyone approaches us on the hill trails, we have the same chance of escaping as they have of capturing us. If we are forced to separate for any reason, we can meet in the next town ahead. Unless somebody came at us that were armed, and it is death for Jews to be caught with a sword, I wouldn’t expect to find robbers roaming the hills. The Romans are sure not going to be off in the bushes on these narrow high trails for they like to march in columns, not strung out in long lines. There will be fewer people using the roads in the hills in general. I paused, Justin just so you know the gold coins I carry are in a flat leather belt tied well under my outer clothes. We must never draw attention to them. Justin understood the responsibility of carrying that much money and he watched out for me along the way. That kind of money to a farmer could equal five years or more of labor. So it, and I, had great value to him.

Around ten in the morning Justin pointed out a good place to stop to rest and eat our morning meal.

I’m sure glad your mother had this food in her kitchen for us to collect before we left. Justin remarked as he ate.

Yes, she knew we were going and she made sure that there was plenty of food for us to take on our trip. I hadn’t wanted to leave that way, sneaking out in the early morning, but the hurt in their eyes and the worry in their hearts were crushing me. I didn’t want to cause them any more pain. Though I doubt my brothers were very distraught at my departure, I knew my parents were deeply concerned, and tried to persuade me to not make the decision. In the end they accepted that they could not change it.

Justin said his father wanted him to stay and help him on the farm, and he was worried about him too. He told me I could starve, going out with so little money. He asked what I will do if we get there and Jesus rejects me for being a poor farmer. My father knows he could not come to my rescue if that happens, and it scares him I might die.

Does it scare you?

It should. I’ve never done anything like this before, something so risky. But for some reason, I feel at peace. Also, I know you even if I pretend not to, and I know this was not just a dream or lark. I want to be part of whatever it is you are going to confront. I want to do it together.

Well, I can tell you this; though my parents could not persuade me to stay they were glad to know that you were going with me. They have a lot of respect for you, and in their own way they hope you will keep me out of trouble. Justin did not reply, but it pleased him that people of such wealth considered him to be a worthy companion for their son – despite his insistence on going on a dangerous journey that had every appearance of failure.

As we sat and ate our morning meal of bread and cheese and dried meat, we relaxed for the first time since we started out. We shared the bladder of cool, refreshing water we had refilled on our way. It took the dryness from us, body and soul.

As we sat and ate, I reflected that this was the first time I had truly rested for possibly months since I had been so busy finishing the work I needed to take care of at home and preparing for this journey. I took in the beauty of the land around us, and let my mind calm the anxieties that threatened to overwhelm me. All our actions this day were done to care for and protect us as we journeyed to Jerusalem to find Jesus, but just for a few minutes nothing else seemed to matter. It was comforting to look up and see soft white clouds drifting overhead, offering us a few moments of relief from the warm sun. I was content to sit and fill my heart and mind with the beauty of our surroundings, and the quiet presence of Justin sitting here with me. I listened to the birds chirp back and forth, to the leaves gently rustling in the trees. I watched a group of ants work together to carry a tiny crumb. It was so peaceful. Nature spoke to me of the life that filled the air around us.

As I glanced at Justin he seemed lost in similar thoughts. We said nothing and went back to relaxing for this brief moment as peace and joy filled us both. I think we both felt at home in the knowledge that we were in the right time and place, moving together toward an unknown calling.

We spent almost an hour there, longer than we needed to have our meal, until we were comfortable and refreshed. We began our journey again and kept watch for anything that might look dangerous or cause us trouble. I felt like I was being overly concerned, but caution was far preferable to any confrontation, so we kept our guard up. I could have worried about Jesus and Jerusalem, but since they were days away, those worries would have to wait until our arrival, when all would be revealed to us.

As we began walking, Justin asked me why I choose him as a friend. Matthew, you and your family are land owners and merchants and I am the son of a farmer. I know your mother and father accept me because they love you, so they respect your choice of a friend. I suspect your brothers disliked me for my life as a farmer, and because of our friendship. I just wonder why you choose me, for you could have found a friend of similar talent or abilities instead of those of a farmer’s son.

I did not rush to give Justin an answer, and he patiently waited to hear what I had to say. Justin, I am not sure I have the answer you seek, but if you will answer a question, I think it will answer yours.

Sure, what is the question?

Have you ever put me down because I work for my father or have money? Did you ever resent me because I am the eldest son and will one day receive one half of the family business?

Justin thought for a second and said, No, why would I come against you for your good fortune, or want you to be any less than you are?

I hope our friendship has been based on more than clothes or money.

Yes, but I did not have any fine clothes or wealth like you.

Justin I think that is your answer. You accept me as I am, and I accept you just as you are.

So you picked me as a friend because you really like me, and it doesn’t matter that I am poor?

Justin you are leaving a part of this picture out. You are my friend not because of what you have or don’t have, do or don’t do, but because you allow me to be my own person. I have learned to like you just the way you are. You must think that because I or my family is respected that it puts me somehow above you, but I see you as my equal.

Really?

Yes.

Justin thought on that a moment and said, I guess that makes sense. I could see his confidence, even his demeanor appear to grow as he considered my words.

Now I need to ask you a question. Whenever we went hunting we seldom saw any game, but they sure saw or heard us and fled. They could hear you a mile away so they should have waited for us to arrive, but they were almost always gone; any idea why that was happening?

I’m sorry, but I really enjoyed spending time with you when we went walking on the hills. The fact that Father let me go with you, for the farm work seemed to never quit, was a blessing to me, and a show of respect for you. Then your mother would give us lunches and sometimes there were sweet cakes or sugared biscuits to eat, and I enjoyed that, too. It really was fun and exciting as we chased wounded game then dressed the meat and brought it back to our families. Most of the time you gave it all to us, and my family really appreciated that. You taught me so… what are you smiling about? I’m talking too much – sorry. He looked sheepish. I just can’t seem to help myself. Not very many people listen to me the way you do.

Yes, I do listen, and I don’t mind it at all. I like being with you, and I, too, like getting away from the demands put on me once in a while. When we are together you are so anxious to learn, it is a joy to answer your questions if I can. Nothing else requires my attention when we are out walking the hills, so it is fun and easy to talk to you. I hope I don’t offend you when I tease.

Your remarks are a gift between two people that care and share time and friendship, I thank you for that.

We were silent for a short time. Then Justin asked, Since we have at least two or three more days of travel, would you mind telling me again about how you met Jesus?

I must have told you this story at least a dozen times, but I like remembering what happened, and telling you about it too. Justin listened intently as I told him what it was that was drawing me back to Jerusalem, and now him with me.

Chapter 2

The Sale

It began when father got in a large shipment of merchandise at a good price, but it would not sell at the local market. Father had been to the marketplace at Jerusalem hundreds of times and knew it was a good place to sell from, so he asked us if we would take the merchandise and try and sell it there. The main festival in Jerusalem was just five weeks away, meaning there would be many more people in town because of it. The population of the city could double or triple during the temple festivals, so the market would be very busy. Father could not leave for a prolonged sale so all four of his sons were going for him.

My brothers disliked taking orders from me directly, but our hurry necessitated we work together to load up and be on our way as quickly as possible. They were surprisingly excited to be traveling, for they seldom left town on business. We had traveled as a family only three or four times in our lives so this was a new adventure for them. We decided on one big wagon for the journey, over two small carts. It would not necessarily be better but it would be easier, giving us less to deal with in Jerusalem in terms of storage, and one was all we would need for the journey back. It also meant we had to walk for there was no room to ride and the two donkeys could not pull the extra weight of our bodies. My brothers griped some about that, but they walked on just to prove they could do anything I could.

We all worked together until we had the wagon packed full. It looked ready to fall over, so great was the load. Even on flat ground the poor donkeys could not pull the weight from a standstill without our help to get it started. We threw on a large bag of grain for them to eat, as they were going to have a long, hard pull for at least three days. We could not depend on just grass to sustain their strength. Most of the time they had a steady pull, but if the road rose more than just a little they would need our help to keep moving. We also were needed to hold back the heavy weight of the wagon as we descended several hills, less it run them over. We made the trip in three long days of travel, and all of us, man and animal alike, were tired and glad to rest when we arrived.

I found an overseer of the market and acquired a space from which to do business. It was slightly away from the center of the market, but because of this it was less expensive and just large enough to drive the wagon into it and leave it. The animals were taken to a holding area where we paid the owner to feed and watch over the two donkeys for a month.

The first day at the market, my brothers listened to my ideas, and started unpacking the wagon and setting up for selling the next day. We had thrown a tarp over the goods as we traveled to protect and conceal our wares. When the wagon was emptied the tarp was used to cover it, for we took the sides panels off and it made an excellent display table. On one side, under the wagon, we made a bed area so that one of us could stay with our goods. Then we would not have to worry about theft at night. There was a guard hired to walk the market and protect the property after hours, but on more than one occasion he could be heard snoring in the distance. It did not give us a sense of great confidence that our goods were very safe. On the other side under the wagon we packed it full of all the extra goods we brought, to conceal the large amount we had to sell. With the tarp covering the wagon, to show our wares we put three or four of each item on the bed of the wagon and used it as a display. Some of the goods were arranged neatly on the ground for buyers to look at. We had dozens more of each item stashed away under the wagon, but as far as they could tell, we were down to our last few items. Our strategy worked best, for if customers could see the abundance of goods we had to sell, we would have wasted months bartering with them. We were quickly accepted by the vendors, because we stayed with our goods. This helped to protect the others too, and they were glad of that. While my brothers continued the arranging, I went and looked over the market to get a feel for the pricing structure that they were using so we could set our prices fairly.

Strangely, most of the goods there were selling at almost double what we would have charged at home. If we dared sell at such reduced prices, drawing that kind of attention to our own goods, the other vendors would come and destroy what we have come nightfall, and it would be a mistake to step in and try to stop them. It was their livelihood too, and to make them look bad would provoke them to action, so instead of setting our prices too low and drawing unwanted attention we under-cut their price by just one penny. If the customer wanted to barter, we’d give up another cent, meeting their demand. It was not enough of a difference for the sellers to come against us; we still had an edge over their pricing. Our quality looked to be better than theirs and customers were quick to spot it. Once we were more established, we did not lack for customers.

That first day of set up was busy, but not terribly difficult. My brothers were eager; all was exciting and new to them, so they pitched in willingly to get the job done. Thad and I went and acquired a room with two beds and a mat for the month. The innkeeper liked that I paid a lump sum up front, and suggested a few places where we could find a hearty meal.

I had been to Jerusalem dozens of times with father so I was quite familiar with the street vendors that sold food, especially those near the marketplace. We had packed food for the trip but it was getting tiring eating the same cold food over and over, so when Thad and I came back with bread and warm, savory beef they thoroughly enjoyed it.

We worked together until about an hour before dark, but when we had finished all was in order for the beginning of our sale. I agreed to take the first night sleeping under the wagon, and they took the remainder of the food back to the inn. By the time my brothers left with Thad the light was quickly fading, and there were only a few people left in the marketplace.

I looked over the preparations we had completed before the last of the light was gone, and was genuinely proud of all we’d accomplished together. With the light almost gone I slid into the narrow sleeping area under the wagon. It took a while to settle down and get use to the confined, dark surroundings, but after the empty feeling left I fell into a deep sleep, likely from total exhaustion. It was not until early sunup and a very early riser several stalls away came to open his stall that I woke from my peaceful night’s rest.

It was too early to open for business so I just lay there and rested, stretching out my muscles, stiff from sleeping in the cramped space on the ground. But I had to admit it was not all that bad spending the night there, only a bit lonely and cramped. Since I had survived the night I knew my brothers would be okay when their turns came, if only to prove they were just as tough as I am.

I was up and walking off the stiffness by the time my brothers came to the stall. It surprised me that they were here this early for they had no one to push them to get up, but they looked to be rested and in good spirits and that, to me, was a good sign. They had stopped by the food vender but he was just getting his small oven heated up and it would be twenty minutes before he could prepare any food. My brothers looked over our area, and I could see their satisfaction as they saw what they had helped to do. I was going to give them a pep talk before we started the sale, but I decided experience would be a better teacher than my lecture, so I stayed quiet. I knew that they were excited and anxious, but if this endeavor failed they would be the first to tell me, I told you so.

Two of them went and brought us back a nice warm morning meal and a jug of a hot brew called coffee, which I was familiar with, but they were not. Nomadic tribes introduced the beverage, and made it very thick. When it was introduced in Jerusalem it was greatly thinned and prepared warm, not as a concentrate in the tiny cups I had seen used by the tribesmen. It must have been on that trip that my brothers got hooked on coffee, because years later they started importing and selling the beans used to brew the bitter, warm liquid. But, I’m getting ahead of the story.

At first, my brothers didn’t get the concept of barter, bargain, and banter. Even though we were better priced, and had what I thought was higher quality, we still had to win the customer’s loyalty to make the sale. The day started slow, but by the end of the day more people were coming by and my brothers had relaxed; talking more with the buyers and not frightening them away. By the second day they were already becoming competitive with each other to see who could make the next sale.

By the end of three days of selling, they were completely comfortable talking to and bargaining with buyers to make a sale. I asked them one day if they would mind if I went to the temple to thank God for his help so far, and the blessings we were beginning to receive. They merely looked at me, slightly shocked.

Now this question to you may sound relatively normal, but to my brothers it was anything but. I was in charge of the entire operation, from transport, to sale, to finances, not to mention the daily work routine. To ask to leave the three to run the stall by themselves was significant. It boosted their moral that I would trust them to do so. In most cases I gave the orders, I didn’t ask for permission.

They teased me and said, We doubt you will even be missed, so I felt free to go. Harsh though it might have sounded, it more signified respect, and a bit of appreciation as they sent me away. I thanked them in a rough but equally direct manner when I told them just be sure they were still here when I return.

If you don’t go and get lost somewhere, we’ll be here when you get back. was their quip to me.

I checked to make sure that each had adequate money for routine needs, and though they had enough, I passed them six extra copper coins apiece. The gesture made them feel good and more a part of this sale, for I was entrusting them with some of its profits. That action, though only costing father a few hours’ wages, bought him and me far more cooperation and respect than weeks of pushing and prodding could have gained. They were in high spirits when I left, and I had no doubt they would do well. I left for the temple at peace.

Walking along, I fell to thinking. So far all our meals had been bought from street vendors and they tasted good, but I wanted to do something kind for my brothers. I planned to send them to the restaurant we had seen after renting the room, and purchase a bottle of wine to share between them to make the evening special. Not enough wine for a party, but it would be a nice complement to a good meal.

I needed to make sure that each of them went to the warm baths, where for just a penny you could soak in warm, fairly clean water. The baths were public, but some were designed just for ones’ arms, legs, and head. There were separate ones for men or women, but some could be so cold that one had to jump in and out with little time for lounging, for fear of freezing. The spring water they used could be bitter cold, and did not encourage a long bath.

I tried to put all such thoughts away and enjoy what was around me, but it was hard to forget all my training, and not try to anticipate any potential problems that might arise. My brothers were enjoying a new experience, and in a way it was showing them a talent they did not know they had, but they carried none of the responsibility. If something were to go wrong, I was not so sure they would try to help me. Just as likely, they would turn against me.

Again I drew my mind back to the moment and chided myself for not trying to relax for the few minutes I had alone. I am not deeply religious, but I have learned about God and I understand some about the traditions of the early men of God. I respected what they did for Israel and its people, so I would find peace going before God and acknowledging his grace and mercy that he has given to our family.

When I arrived at the temple it was a sight that inspired awe in me, looking on the work that took the builders almost fifty years to build. Though busy, its sprawling interior held plenty of space for me to find a quiet area to speak to God alone. I walked over to a massive pillar supporting the roof and moved behind it, feeling almost completely alone, as in my heart I spoke thanks to the God of heaven.

It wasn’t long, however, before I was distracted by two priests with their backs to me, totally unaware of my presence. Though they didn’t speak too loud, their conversation distracted me from my thoughts. Annoyed that I couldn’t ignore them, I figured I might as well hear what they had to say. They were so wrapped up in their own world that they focused only on the people in front of them and never once turned around to see me barely concealed on the far side of the pillar.

This man is trouble for us, and I’m not sure how we are going to handle him.

Have you heard of the magic tricks he calls miracles? They’ve gained him a following among the poor.

I’ve heard. I don’t care how many of the poor he gets, but if this spreads to the rich it could reach into our purse.

We’ve tried to get some men close enough to him to discredit his work, but every time he takes their words and uses them against them in front of the crowds. We are the authorities here but this nobody is making us look bad and turning people away from us. But listen; there may be a way to bring him down. It’s been reported that he calls himself the Son of God. For any man to declare himself to be such is to speak blasphemy. We would take him now, but our source is not so reliable. We are trying to get solid proof before we go to trial. He thinks he’s good, but we are better and he cannot stand up to us for very long. It is just a matter of time before we find something that we can use against him. His followers are weak - they will not be able to help him stand against us. He may draw crowds, but we have the Roman army to back us.

The Romans may not like us much, but they need us as much as we need them, at least for now. One day that will change and then we’ll lead the people against them, and crush them for taking over our country. God will not let these infidels take over this temple – the house of God.

People were moving in our direction so they stopped talking and moved away. Though they didn’t mention this man’s name, they were clearly concerned for his influence, and had less than kind intentions toward him. I had no idea who they were talking about, but considering the man was doing good, and that they were out to stop him, it sounded like he was someone I wanted to meet.

I had spoken to God (sort of) and been away for several hours so I slowly began making my way back to the market and my brothers. I mused that this mysterious man might be of interest to me, as I estimated it would take us three to four weeks to complete the sale, and there weren’t many other things to occupy me during that time. As merchandise continued to sell it began to require fewer of us in our small booth to help serve the slow but steady stream of customers. My brothers could at least stroll around together, but I did not fit in with them, so I was more or less alone. The words of the priests ran through my mind and I chuckled to myself. He has got them scared and they are the power here next to the Romans. I think I need to see who this man is.

The next day a man that was wandering through the market stopped to look at our goods. Even by casual observation I could see he was not really shopping, but browsing, seemingly with plenty of time to spare. As he approached our booth, I struck up a friendly conversation with him. I was not pushy so he relaxed, and we fell into an easy conversation.

He asked me where we were from, saying, I often come to the market just to spend time, and have not seen you here until just a few days ago.

I told him we brought our goods from Beersheba to take advantage of the better marketplace, and were doing well in our sales here.

Looking over some of our goods, he commented, You should be doing well. Your goods are just a little less expensive than almost everyone else, and they look to be of better quality.

I laughed. You are not really here buying are you?

Is it that obvious?

Yes. We want to sell our goods, but I won’t pressure anyone into buying what they do not want or need. I can see you have an eye for quality, but you ask no price or try to bargain.

He smiled and said, It’s not often that I meet someone that actually respects the customer. Most all these men out here just see me as a few more coins for themselves.

I gave him a knowing nod. Now that we have business taken care of, can I ask you a question?

Certainly, ask and if I can I’ll answer.

I was at the temple yesterday and overheard priests talking. They spoke of a man preaching and doing miracles, but didn’t mention his name. I paused, continuing sheepishly, Now I must admit I was listening in on a private conservation, so I couldn’t exactly ask them for names and places.

He looked intently at me. I wouldn’t have expected a young merchant to leave his goods to go to a religious temple.

My father taught me about the God of Israel, and how we owe Him much for the nation He has made us to be. I don’t want to give the impression I am very religious, but I do honor the one that gave us the prophets and made us a great nation; even a nation now controlled by the Romans.

I apologize to you young man. I did not intend to challenge or to make you defensive, but speaking about some of these matters to the wrong people can be trouble.

Sir I took no offense, and it was I that broached the matter, so I understand if you need to use tact when speaking of him.

We need to get past these concerns or we will talk ourselves to death going around in circles. The man you ask about is named Jesus. I have seen him several times personally. He is totally different than the priests of the temple. He speaks with kind words to almost all that will listen to him, and never asks for money like the priests do. The only ones he speaks sharply to are the priests that seek to stop him from talking about things it appears they know little or nothing about. The ordinary people may not understand his words, but he gives hope where the priests just put more burdens on us with all their talk. I have seen the lame get up and walk after he prayed for them, but I did not know any of the people personally, so I cannot say if what he did was a miracle healing or not. Still, I am a fairly good judge of character and the ones he touched were overcome with weeping and joy. That kind of emotion is hard to fake. Then, when a great and notable miracle was done, I never saw him once try to draw attention to himself or get money for what he did. If the priests from the temple had done what he did they would be taking a collection and lauding their own abilities. As it is, the priests have warned us not to trust him, and to avoid listening to his words for he is not part of the temple priesthood. You sound as if you are interested in seeing him for yourself?

Yes. I guess I have a little bit of rebel in me - when I heard about him I wanted to see what he is really like.

Just a friendly word of advice, be very careful around here when you use the word, ‘rebel’; it can get you in trouble. The priests have declared Jesus a rebel because he won’t follow their ways. The Romans are looking for rebels around every corner in the land, for there is still much unrest. You don’t want to attract attention from either of them.

Thank you, that was more of a personal description than a lifestyle, but I will refrain from using that word from now on in conversation.

The thing is it will mark you, and they react quickly and often very harshly, with little or no proof. They don’t care about the actions they bring against men, even if they are found to be wrong. They do whatever they want and they get away with it. For those who call themselves men of God, they don’t seem to care very much about the people of Israel. They use the law to get what they want. If you want to see him for yourself, I’ve been told that he will be speaking tomorrow afternoon, outside the city. It is safe to go and listen because there are always men in the crowds that are trying to find fault with him, or use his own words to trap him. So far no one has found any faults that will hold up against him in court. They’re angry now because he is making them look bad in front of the people. They are embarrassed that their leaders know less than some carpenter from a small town with no formal teaching. When they attack him with their many years of study and wisdom they end up leaving embarrassed and humiliated. That is not an emotion they do well with. There is great anger as they do all that the Romans allow them to do, trying to reject or destroy Jesus and his words. There is great anonymity in a crowd. To them, you might be just another listener, or someone with their same agenda – to trap him with his own words.

I thanked him for speaking so candidly and he left, continuing his slow walk through the market. Though my brothers sent many furtive glances our way, they never interrupted. I went back to work and made a few sales, so they calmed down. It was a good day of selling for us.

As the day was ending, I told my brothers that I wanted them to have a full dinner this night and they seemed to appreciate the gesture. They perked up when I told them to be sure and get a good bottle of wine to enjoy with the meal. I told them they had earned it, and it touched them that I had done something for them that I didn’t have to. They asked me about my dinner and I told them when we were ready to close I would go get some food from the vender, as they covered up the goods for the night.

I assured them that I would be fine sleeping here for the night, keeping watch over the stall, so with that they headed off for their meal and after dinner probably some well-earned rest. They had put in a long day in the marketplace selling father’s goods.

During the days it was interesting for me to ask men about Jesus and see what they knew about him, or see what kind of reaction they gave me. They would talk about the man, but few wanted to talk about religion. It was very evident that many liked him even if they did not understand him. Then there were those that disliked him though they hardly knew him. Of course the priesthood rallied against him because he would not submit to them or their ways, and it was becoming very obvious that there was a large difference between them in power and in love. The priests showed little of either, except for that power which was given to them by Rome.

The next day, I awoke excited to finally see this man that stirred up so many, and whose reputation was almost mythic. I said nothing to my brothers about going to see him until about noon. When I asked them if they could do without me for a few hours, Thad asked, Are you finally getting a chance to see that man?

Does it show that much, my desire to see him?

It seems to us as if that is all you have been talking about lately. You might as well go for you aren’t doing much here. We can take care of everything without you.

I left them and headed in the direction the man had told me about, joining a small but steady stream of people that seemed to share my destination. There were easily three hundred people milling about waiting to hear Jesus speak when I arrived. It was maybe half an hour after I arrived when a group of men came and took up a place on the hillside where the crowd could hear them. They did not begin to talk to us right away, so I asked a man next to me which one was Jesus, and he pointed and said, The one with the colorful robe.

I try not to judge men before I have met them, but listening to all the talk and excitement, and even the intense dislike Jesus stirred up in the priests, I felt a twinge of disappointment as I saw Jesus standing there. I had expected to see someone of bigger stature with strength and a strong presence, but to look at him was to see just a man. A few people spoke of the Messiah and miracles with great words of power, when all I was seeing was a group of ordinary working men not too well organized, milling about as he prepared to talk to us.

I had learned a long time ago that not everything heard in the marketplace is to be believed. Men on many occasions could greatly embellish the stories they told to raise their position of knowledge or stature on any kind of subject. As a result, everything was subject to the test of truth and time. A wise rule was to wait for a time before repeating it, and then if it seemed too good to be true, it probably was. I felt a little bad for judging Jesus before I had allowed him to speak, but I wondered if this was just something