When Jesus Wept - By Bodie Page 0,1

Alexandria. Amphorae of oil or wine or dates or wheat, each bearing the clay seal of the House of Perez, were frequently seen on the docks of Caesarea Maritima. From there they were soon en route to Antioch, Athens, and even Rome itself.

The Roman province called Coele–Syria that stretched from Damascus to the Nile included the Jewish homeland and was rightly called the Breadbasket of the Empire. Pomegranates and sycamore figs grown on my land took their places in the straw-lined baskets of commerce conveyed by Judah’s export company.

Sometimes it amused me to think that grapes from my Bethany estate, raised under my care, picked at my direction, crushed under my supervision, and transformed into wine of my vintage, made much longer voyages than ever I had done or dreamed of doing.

I never cared to visit Rome, but the fortunes of my house were increased every time a Roman senator’s wife praised the product of my labor. Therefore, I had always looked forward to Judah’s reports.

He was counting on that interest now. As transparent as was the device, I was still grateful for his concern.

Though the politics of Rome and Jerusalem were unfolding a mere two miles from where we stood, I shook my head. I had heard nothing of the outside world for the past month. “What now?”

“The new Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, is staying at old Herod’s palace. He has held meetings with Caiaphas and Annas. The high priesthood is well and truly in the complete control of Rome. Sacrifices are offered daily by Caiaphas in the Temple for Rome and Emperor Tiberius. Every synagogue is commanded to pray for Tiberius.”

“May HaShem bless and keep Tiberius … far away from the land of Eretz-Israel.” I smiled slightly as I uttered the rabbinic blessing for our oppressors.

“Tetrarch Herod Antipas has taken Herodias to his bed.”

“The wife of his brother.”

“And here’s the big news … Caiaphas himself performed the marriage ceremony. The sect of Pharisees is in an uproar. A very quiet and fearful uproar, but even so …”

I pondered this news. “It’s sure to lead to unrest in the countryside, where people still have a conscience. What will Pilate say about such an unholy union?”

“Pilate could care less about his morals. I mean—” he glanced over his shoulder before continuing—”was there ever a more wicked ruler than Tiberius Caesar? As long as our people do not fall into open rebellion, and we hold our tongues and pay our taxes and—”

“Pay and pay and pay. Was there ever such a time as this? Come, Messiah! Deliver us!”

“Herod Antipas has gathered up his entire court and gone off to his palace in Galilee for the season. Out of sight of the people and Pilate.”

I walked with him toward the road that led to my home. “That’s better for all of us. May HaShem bless and keep Herod Antipas …”

“Far away from us …” Judah paused.

The departure of Antipas from Jerusalem was a good thing. His oppressive rule was far worse than that of his father, Herod the Great. Antipas was fully controlled by Rome, while possessing the same vices as his “Butcher King” father.

Judah’s strong jaw stiffened as he waited until a group of village women carrying laundry baskets passed us on the road. When he was certain no one could hear, he resumed. “Well now, my friend, let me tell you. There is unrest in the air. There has come a man … a prophet or a lunatic, depending on who you ask. His name is John. Some say he is Elijah the prophet returned, as holy prophecy teaches. He appeared in the wilderness east of the Jordan, preaching against Rome and Herod Antipas. He calls the common folk to prepare for the coming of the Kingdom of God. He warns of HaShem’s judgment: fire and destruction raining down upon the House of Herod.”

I stopped in my tracks and studied my companion’s excited face. Was this ripple of rebellion the same feeling that had caused the Maccabees to rise against the Greek oppressors some two hundred years before?

“Either a fool or a true prophet of the Lord. What do you think?” I asked.

“I’ve been waiting to go see for myself.”

“Waiting?”

“For you to return to the land of the living.” He raised his eyes toward the gates of my home, where my sister Martha waited for me. “Would you like to come with me? To see this fellow yourself? To hear what treason he speaks?”

I did not answer at first but