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Fiction that may well contain a core of truth
by Theresia Saers
1
“Actually, it began with John the Baptist, as we used to call him.
One day he stood on the bank of the Jordan, a man straight from the desert, and
he just started to preach. And lo and behold, we had our very own prophet.
From the readings in the synagogue I knew about the existence of
prophets, way back in history. People who were supposed to speak on behalf of
Jahweh. They used to fulminate against the injustice of the people of
Israel and they called on them to repent. There was one, Jesajah, who varied
his tirades with the promise of a Saviour, a Messiah, as we would say. Thus the
idea of a Messiah had become part of our tradition, something to dream about,
but certainly not to be taken very seriously as a phenomenon for realisation in
our own lifetime, however much I for one hoped that this would indeed be the
case. Until suddenly there was this John the Baptist.
Religion was a dimension of my heart, like the capacity for love, and at
the first rumours I went down to see this new prophet for myself. I must say I
was impressed. All in all he sounded very much like Jesajah, with his
insistence on the need for conversion. There, too, was the promise of a
Saviour. However, there was one big difference: Jesajah had always been vague
about the timing. This John the Baptist promised us that the coming of the
Messiah was imminent. He was there to prepare the way by preaching the need for
conversion.
The newcomer from the desert began to intrigue me, and I was at his feet
as often as I could free myself from my tasks in our household in Bethany,
where I lived with my sister Martha. I heard him admonish us to give a goodwill
token, by performing a symbolic cleansing of ourselves. In other words to be
publicly baptised in the waters of the Jordan, so that everybody would see that
we were prepared to change our behaviour. People openly asked the
Baptist’s advice about what aspects of their lives they would have to
change for this great thing to happen: the coming of the Messiah. In the first
days there was only a trickle of candidates for baptism, but as the days went
on more and more of my countrymen approached him to be allowed to enter the
waters of the Jordan for this healing ceremony of forgiveness of sins. I was
one of them. It was not an easy thing for a woman to do, as in preparation one
had to take off most of one’s clothes. That ritual was not performed
because of the soaking wet clothes that would cling to your body as you made
your way home. It symbolised the shedding of old habits that had previously
stained and putrefied one’s soul. Actually, people were scandalised by my
joining the crowd of male candidates for baptism and shedding my clothes. I got
the reputation of being eccentric, a woman to be shunned. No good can come from
somebody that is felt to be different from the common herd…. However, I
did not mind. Seeing the Messiah with fresh and clear eyes would be worth
it….”
2
“… One day a listener from a group of Galileans got on
his feet and approached the prophet. It appeared that he wanted baptism. There
seemed to be some hesitation on John’s part, though. But the candidate
loosened the clasp of his mantle and let it slide form his shoulders. He drew
his tunic over his head and walked towards the water. Where he could no longer
safely go, he halted, and John pressed the man’s shoulders and head deep
down almost to near suffocation, as he had done with all those before. Then he
allowed him to come up, helping him towards the river bank.
The stranger dressed without a word and moved off , in the direction of
the desert. But the Baptist stood there, as if gasping for breath. He seemed on
the brink of speech, but why did he hold back?
Then slowly he raised his right arm, pointing and shouting: “It is
Him, it’s our Saviour. It’s the man I was having to announce. Only, I
did not know who it would be. This is Him. He has arrived !
I can tell you that I did not need much encouragement to go and
investigate what the truth of this remarkable announcement was. The man who had
just been baptised was a Galilean. How could any person from that province,
which all of us around orthodox Jerusalem looked down on, be the Saviour?
However, now that John had spoken these exciting words, I would not let this
once in a lifetime chance pass without investigation. I was already on my feet
and ran after him.
Somebody else must have thought likewise, for another Galilean that had
stayed behind in Jerusalem after the recent pilgrimages, was on his feet, too.
He looked at me askance, as if wondering what a woman could be seeking at that
moment. He did not voice his opinion, though. When we had overtaken the man,
the latter reacted to our presence: “What is it you are after?”.
“Sir”, we said as if we were both following the same inner
cue: “Sir, where are you staying?”
“Come and see for yourselves”, was his kindly answer. We
followed him till we arrived at a narrow cave, the kind of place where a leper,
ostracised, would find room between himself and a final burial place.
It turned out to be a wonderful day.
“Any more questions? the man suggested. Of course we had. What, for
instance, was his name? Had he really come to save Israel? Did he have a plan?
To all our questions we got clear answers. There was no evasion whatsoever. I
got the impression of a very wise man, strong, too, knowledgeable and very
devout. And most of all, very likeable.
Dusk was creeping in, when I realised that we might have overstayed our
welcome. I ventured one last question.
“Sir, why not start straight away? Israel has waited for such a
very long time…”
There was a certain hesitation now, as if I had strayed unto private
territory.
“I need more time… The task I am going to perform is a hard
one. You may be ready to accept John the Baptist’s lessons and mine, but
what about the traditional Teachers of the Law, the High Priest, the Pharisees?
Have you not heard their scathing remarks about the Baptist? Some have compared
him to a devil incarnate. And yet, what he teaches is nothing new, except that
the Messiah is coming. So, what fate will await me…?
Indeed, I need more time. I have to steel my soul, to pray for guidance
and determination… To conquer my desires, fasting and praying….
But you two. Would you be prepared to follow me and be my
disciples?”
Yes, we would. From that moment onwards he would be our Teacher and we
his faithful followers. All the days of my life, I said to myself.
“Go home, then” he decided. “And when the moment is
there I will find you.”
So we went our own ways, Andreas to meet his brother and his friends,
and I to tell my sister Martha and my brother Lazarus in Bethany of the
wonderful things that had befallen us….”
3
“…In the weeks that followed I approached my friends, those
that had heard the Baptist make his special announcement. Would they be willing
to become helpers of Jesus of Nazareth, the Rabbi I had encountered in the
desert? I won the support of Johanna, the wife of Chusa, an official at the
court of Herod, who reigned over Gali