Daughter of Cana Read online

  “You want him to manage wedding feasts?”

  I snorted. “I want him to care for Abba’s date palms. I will bake, Thomas will tend and harvest, and Abba will take the orders and collect the payment. We will provide dates for the market, festivals, and export. I will bake and oversee the occasional wedding feast. We will be very busy—and happy.”

  “Really?” Jude did not look at me but smiled into the distance. “And that will be enough for you?”

  “It is enough for anyone.”

  “Suppose Thomas wants to marry?”

  I shrugged. “Fine. We will both live in Cana, so we can work together by day and go home to our families at night. One day our children might play together.” I smiled, hugging my elbows in pleasant anticipation. “This is the life our father wants for us. It is the life we want.”

  “Are you certain?”

  The question hung in the air between us. When I did not answer, Jude stood, wiped the sand from his tunic, and walked toward the donkey.

  Though we were making good time, we stopped when we spotted another group coming toward us. Not knowing who or what could be hiding in the ox-drawn cart, Jude pulled the donkey to the side of the road and gripped his walking stick.

  We could see a woman and a boy in the cart, their sandaled legs dangling over the front, while a young man led the ox. A few people followed, but they traveled on foot and did not carry weapons.

  We relaxed when we realized they did not pose a danger.

  The woman in the cart hailed us, her smile unusually bright for someone traveling one of Judea’s dusty roads.

  “Blessed be he that comes in the name of the Lord,” she called, her voice ringing like happy bells. “Where are you heading, friends?”

  I glanced at Jude and saw bewilderment on his face. “We are on our way to Nazareth.”

  The woman clapped and lifted her gaze to the sky. “Blessed be Nazareth, the city on a hill, and blessed be the One who grew up within its walls. Praise Adonai for His goodness.”

  “Excuse me.” Jude stepped forward and addressed the young man leading the ox. “Is this woman well? I have never heard anyone bless Nazareth.”

  The youth cracked a smile. “My aunt has good reason for what she says. See the child with her?”

  Jude nodded.

  “Last week that boy was dead. My aunt was traveling this same road, accompanying her son’s coffin to the cemetery. We were almost there when we saw a group coming toward us. They stopped when they heard the mourners, then one of the men called out a greeting and told her not to weep.”

  Jude eyed the youth with a stern expression. “Where was her husband? He should have prevented a stranger from interrupting a funeral procession.”

  The youth shook his head. “No husband; she’s a widow. We were all so astonished by the fellow’s authority that the men carrying the coffin stopped in the road. Then the man walked over, placed his hand on the box, and said, ‘Young man, I say to you, get up!’”

  Jude flinched. “I hope someone rebuked him for his cruelty.”

  “We praised him for his mercy. Because the boy—my cousin—pushed away the lid of his coffin and sat up, then looked down and asked his mother why he was riding in a box.”

  Jude stepped back, silenced by surprise, but Joanna had not lost the power of speech. “I would hear more,” she called. She walked over to the mother and son and reached up to grip their hands. “Tell me—was it Yeshua you met? Yeshua of Nazareth?”

  The widow nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “We began to praise HaShem for His goodness and mercy. We knew a prophet had appeared among us, and when we heard he was from Nazareth, we gave thanks.” She looked over at Jude. “Do not doubt it—HaShem has come to earth to help His people.”

  Jude did not respond to her, but gripped his walking stick and set his eyes on the road ahead.

  Before we reached Nain, I had almost convinced myself that Yeshua had changed his mind and decided to return to his brothers’ business. After all, who would want to continue such dangerous work after Antipas executed the Immerser?

  But after we encountered the widow and her son, I knew Yeshua would not walk away from the work he had begun. Even if the so-called miracle was the result of a man waking a child from a deathlike sleep, people would always believe Yeshua had brought the child back to life. That elevated him to the status of Elijah, who had resurrected the widow of Zarephath’s son.

  When we finally entered Nazareth on the first day of the week, I expected to find the townspeople dancing and praising Adonai outside the synagogue. The news about the boy’s resurrection must have reached them, for Nazareth lay between Nain and Cana. Wouldn’t they be thrilled to know one of their men had brought a child back to life?

  Instead, silence greeted us as we walked down the main road, an oppressive stillness that hovered over the city like a cloud. Every person we saw wore a surly expression, and Jude’s frown deepened with every step we took.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, looking around. “Is your brother here?”

  “I’m beginning to think not,” he snapped, then turned the corner. He led the way up the narrow, steep street where he lived and stopped in front of his house. “Home,” he said simply, looking at Joanna, Susanna, and Ziv. “Let me go inside and see if anyone has been here.”

  A few moments later he returned, accompanied by his brothers. “Tasmin, Joanna, Susanna, Ziv.” He nodded to each of us. “I’d like you to meet my brothers—James, Joses, and Simeon.”

  Each of us politely bowed in greeting, yet I knew we were all wondering about the family’s missing members. “And your mother?” I asked.

  “She is with Yeshua.” Jude shifted his gaze to the horizon as if he could see them on a distant mountain. “They have gone north—no one knows exactly where.”

  James, the tall, lanky man I remembered from the wedding, stepped forward. “I know you must be exhausted,” he said, stepping into the role of host. “Jude told us about your latest trials, and we hope you will spend the night with us. My sister Damaris will bring food, and tomorrow you can decide what you want to do. Please come inside.”

  Ziv hitched the donkey to a post, then sighed in appreciation when Joses untied the beast and led him toward the first-floor stable. Joanna brushed wayward hair from Rahel’s forehead, slipped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, and led her up the stone steps. Ziv’s eyes welled with tears at Joanna’s kindness.

  I patted the boy, who had been sleeping on my shoulder ever since Jude pulled him from the pack saddle. A rest would be good for all of us. Tomorrow we would consider our options in the clear light of day.

  As we went inside, a man passing on the street stopped and stared. “A curse upon your house,” he shouted, wagging a finger at the siblings on the stairs. “If your brother enters Nazareth again, he will be stoned! Make sure he knows we will not tolerate blasphemy!”

  I looked at James. “Blasphemy?”

  He shook his head. “Yeshua was here on Shabbat and went to our synagogue. He opened the Scriptures and taught a lesson from Isaiah—”

  “Later,” Jude interrupted. “You can tell the story over dinner, but I would rather you kept silent now. Why burden our guests with bad news?”

  I looked from one brother to another. “Yeshua’s message was not well received?”

  James shook his head and walked into the house.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Tasmin

  Over a meal of roasted vegetables, bread, figs, and honey, James explained what had happened at the synagogue.

  “Everyone was eager to hear Yeshua speak,” he began, breaking off a piece of bread and passing it to Jude. “He had been away for months, and people had heard rumors—we’ve heard all kinds of stories. So Yeshua read from the prophet Isaiah:

  “‘The Ruach Adonai is on me,

  because He has anointed me

  to proclaim Good News to the poor.

  He has sent me to proclaim release to the cap
tives

  and recovery of sight to the blind,

  to set free the oppressed,

  and to proclaim the year of Adonai’s favor.’”

  Susanna, Joanna, and I waited for an explanation of James’s frown. “It is a familiar passage,” I finally said. “Did he read anything else?”

  James lowered his bread. “Yeshua rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. Everyone in the synagogue waited, ready to hear what he had to say. Then he looked up, scanned the room, and said, ‘Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.’”

  I had no idea. I looked at Joanna, wondering if she understood what Yeshua meant.

  “Before that moment,” James went on, “everyone had been impressed with his gracious speech and understanding of the Scripture. After all, John the Immerser often referred to the prophets’ writings, as well. But then Yeshua looked at our friends and neighbors and said, ‘Doubtless you will say to me this proverb, Doctor, heal yourself! and What we have heard was done at Capernaum, do as much here also in your hometown.’”

  “That’s not offensive,” Jude said. “So why—?”

  “He went on,” James added. “He said, ‘Truly, I tell you, No prophet is accepted in his own hometown. But with all truthfulness I say to you, that there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah, when heaven was closed for three and a half years and there came a great famine over all the land. Elijah was not sent to any of them, but only to Zarephath in the land of Sidon, to a widowed woman. There were many with tzara’at in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet, and none of them were purified apart from Naaman the Syrian.’”

  Jude blanched. “I can imagine how the people reacted.”

  James’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “Of course, they were enraged at the implication. He practically said they didn’t deserve to be healed or receive miracles because they didn’t believe. They leapt up and drove Yeshua out of the synagogue and out of the town. They drove him toward the top of the hill overlooking the valley, and despite my entreaties, I was certain they were about to push him off the cliff. But just as I thought he would surely perish, a hush fell over the gathering. Yeshua said nothing but walked right through the crowd without anyone saying a word to him. His disciples followed, and all of them left the city.”

  I swallowed hard. “Was—was Thomas with them?”

  James nodded. “He was.”

  “He . . . he left with them? The display of violence didn’t dissuade him?”

  Smoothing his beard, James offered me a compassionate smile. “He was one of the first to follow Yeshua as he walked away.”

  We sat in silence, each of us considering James’s story. I couldn’t believe that Thomas—ordinarily so careful, rational, and persuasive—could have gone with Yeshua after the man’s neighbors and friends nearly killed him. The people of Nazareth should have been Yeshua’s greatest defenders. For years they had known his siblings, his mother, and his late father. They had known him since his boyhood, so why didn’t they support him?

  When Jude spoke again, his voice trembled. “I cannot believe,” he said, speaking as one carefully choosing his words, “that one in our family has lost his mind. Our father would tear his robes if he heard what Yeshua said in the synagogue. To think that a son of David, of the tribe of Judah, a son of Jacob, Isaac, and Abraham—”

  “He may yet regain his senses.” James held up a steadying hand and looked around the table. “I tried to convince our mother to stay home with us, but she insisted on leaving with Yeshua. I don’t know why she goes with him—she is no longer young, and the travel cannot be easy on her.”

  “Perhaps,” I ventured, “she is trying to protect him. Perhaps she gives him advice.”

  Jude shook his head. “She has never given advice to Yeshua, and he would never ask for it. Of late she has maintained an odd distance from him—whatever he wants to do, she agrees.”

  I shifted on my couch, remembering what had happened at the wedding. Mary went to Yeshua and told him we had no more wine, then she looked at me. “Whatever he says to do, do it.” Why would she encourage his folly?

  “Do you honestly think he is mad?” I looked from James to Joses and Simeon. “And do you all agree?”

  “What else could it be?” Joses shrugged. “He spends hours in the wilderness by himself, and then he travels through Galilee inviting fishermen to follow him?”

  “Fishermen,” Jude repeated, looking at me. “Not teachers, not scribes, not men who are highly educated. Simple, unlearned men who barely had time for Torah school.”

  “Then he goes from place to place, speaking to the poor,” Simeon said. “He tells them they will be comforted and inherit the earth. No wonder the crowds throng after him.”

  “He rebukes the tax collectors and Pharisees,” Joses added. “This endears him to the common people because they hate tax collectors and self-righteous Pharisees, too.”

  “What about the miracles?” I asked. “How did he turn the water into wine?”

  Jude shook his head. “I haven’t learned his secret, but I’m sure there’s an explanation. Perhaps he poured something into the cistern before the water was drawn out.”

  “And the boy raised from the dead?”

  James lifted his hand. “He could have heard a noise from inside the coffin. Perhaps he knew the boy was only sleeping. After all, isn’t that what he said?”

  My thoughts whirled in bewilderment. I had heard so many stories from so many people, all of whom were convinced Yeshua was no ordinary man. And not all of them were poor and uneducated.

  “I don’t know,” I finally said. “All I want to do is find Thomas and convince him to come home. My father is old and needs help managing the grove. Once I explain we need him, I’m sure Thomas will leave Yeshua’s group.”

  “Adonai has smiled upon you, then,” James said, the corner of his mouth quirking. “Because Yeshua has gone to Capernaum, where he stays with Simon Peter. If you leave tomorrow, you should be able to catch up with your brother.”

  Finally. Energized by a burst of hope, I caught Jude’s eye and smiled. Soon, if all went well, we would find Yeshua, speak to our wayward family members, and bring them home.

  All would be well. But, I had to admit, my world would seem small once I returned to Cana. I would miss the adventure of the journey . . . and at least one of my travel companions.

  The next day we set out for Capernaum. We had gone as far as Taricheae when we stopped at the city well. I gave water to Ziv, Rahel, and the boy, then turned and saw Jude speaking to a man I did not recognize.

  I left the bucket with Joanna and moved closer, curious about the stranger. The fellow Jude had engaged in conversation was older, with snowy hair and a beard to match. His hands moved in wild gestures as he spoke, and his eyes glowed with something that looked like wonder.

  I stood at Jude’s elbow and waited until he glanced down and acknowledged me. “Tasmin, this man is from Capernaum. He was telling me about what happened when Yeshua spoke in their synagogue.”

  “Did your neighbors chase him out of town, too?” I lifted a brow and smiled. “Did he offend your people?”

  The old man laughed. “We were amazed at his teaching, because his words rang with authority. But the oddest thing happened—while he was speaking, a man stood and cried out at the top of his voice. ‘Ha! What do you want with us, Yeshua of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God.’”

  I shivered as a creeping uneasiness rose from the bottom of my soul.

  Jude cleared his throat. “What happened next?”

  “I’ll tell you what happened.” The old man bent toward us, his eyes twinkling. “Yeshua said, ‘Be quiet and come out of him!’ The demon threw the man down and then came out without hurting him. The man who had been possessed sat up, blinked, and stared at us, then looked at Yeshua and began to praise Adonai.”

  Jude tugged on his beard, wished the man a good jour
ney, then gently took my elbow and guided me back to the others.

  “What do you think really happened?” I whispered, thinking of Rahel. “Does your brother truly have power over devils and demons?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” Jude said, his voice clipped. “But soon we will find him and put an end to this.”

  More determined than ever to stop our wandering, we left Taricheae and set out for Capernaum. We walked over paving stones we had walked before, but this time I noticed details I had been too distracted to see during our first attempt to find Yeshua.

  Capernaum, I realized, was a border settlement, which explained why the Romans had built a garrison in its wall. With Syria and Phoenicia to the north, Rome wanted the people of Capernaum to maintain the peace with its neighboring territories. To keep the people of Capernaum happy, Rome was generous with its gifts. Jude said the local centurion had gone so far as to sponsor the construction of a new synagogue.

  Many of Capernaum’s people were fisherman, while others were merchants and farmers, so the city was filled with shops and surrounded by well-tended fields of barley and spelt. I understood why Yeshua decided to move to Capernaum—the city offered more opportunities than Nazareth.

  An old woman answered our inquiry about Yeshua by pointing to a house near the village square. The home’s courtyard bustled with activity as people came and went. Among the odd mix of men in the courtyard was a group of masons and carpenters armed with the tools of their trade. Oddly enough, they sang psalms of praise as they shouldered their way through the crowd.

  I nudged Jude and gestured toward the tradesmen. This was not normal behavior for men at work.

  The reason for the workmen became apparent as we drew closer to the house. A ladder leaned against the structure, and from where I stood I could see bits of broken plaster and wood on the ground. Had the roof collapsed?