3793 AM (33 CE) – THE END OF HOPE
A young Eleazer ben Shimon, a low-ranking member of the Zealots, felt… confused. He looked upon yet another crucifixion of yet another Jew, but this time, it was somehow different. It was two petty criminals and a well-known Jew named Yeshua, who most claimed was the promised Mashiach. And he, maybe, almost believed it. Almost. But then, Yeshua was crucified. All of his teachings, all of his followers, scattered into the wind, like the feathers of a pillow tossed into the air during the height of a storm. Impossible to regather, lost forever.
And was that really it?
A storm was approaching. The sky turned dark. Lightning danced about the sky. The sun ceased to exist. The two criminals languished in torment, swooning on their broken legs, no longer having the ability to lift themselves up on the nails driven through their ankles. It would not be long now. But for Yeshua, a spear through his side. Not even a flinch or a flicker of life remained.
He was gone.
Lightning struck the ground and people drew away. Again lightning, and many sought shelter. Rains came, and then hail. It was swift and merciless, as if Hashem himself was angry at the loss of the potential of the insightful, brilliant, inspiring Jew who was, but is no more.
Eleazer looked to his friend, Yochanon ben Levi, a fellow brother Zealot. His face was hard and indifferent. They both stood at a distance from the crucifixions, near the walls of Jerusalem, which provided a modicum of shelter from the elements. Yochanon looked at Eleazer and shook his head but said nothing. He just sighed, which, in reality, said everything. It demonstrated his severe disappointment in the loss of a movement that should have added to their numbers. He was disappointed in the loss of such a charismatic leader who drew crowds of thousands – potential soldiers that would now never materialize.
Finally, Yochanon spoke. “Probably best this way.”
Eleazer turned slightly to his friend. “How so?”
“Well,” he said, glancing at Eleazer, and then back to the frantic scene of Jews trying to remove the broken bodies of the condemned from the trees before nightfall, “He was a distraction. Sure, he could get crowds, but he never spoke against Rome. He spoke of acquiescence and patience and dignity and forgiveness – and then to be hailed by many as the Mashiach? Yeshua was fraught with so many contradictions, so many impossible contrasts to stitch together. No, it is better this way, since we can leverage the grief of his followers, galvanize it, and they will support us.”
As the words of Yochanon trailed off, their echoes in meaning were replaced by the winds and rain. Pools of water, mingled with the blood at the base of Yeshua’s cross, made their way down ruts, creating eerily pink veins reminding the spectators of the previous imminence of today’s events.
Eleazer also sighed. “Yeah. I just wonder that if he was the Mashiach that Hashem had promised, and the Sanhedrin had the Romans kill him, I don’t know. What are the implications?”
“Implications?” Yochanon scoffed darkly. “There are no implications. He could not be the Mashiach if he’s dead. Right?”
Eleazer pondered the words of Yochanon. On the face of it, there was little to dispute. A dead Mashiach is no Mashiach at all. How could Yeshua, whose name means Salvation, be the salvation of Israel from the Romans if he is dead?
Eleazer nodded. Yochanon, with a face full of contempt and concern, peered at his friend.
“Look, Eleazer, I don’t know what demons you are dealing with, but we need you in the now, in the present. You are distracted, and you are no good to us, to the movement, distracted. I am going to go. Stay here and sort out… whatever it is. You know where to find me.”
Staring at the crosses, without looking away, Eleazer nodded. He turned to Yochanon, but he was gone.
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Eleazer continued to stand a good while, pondering and thinking. Conflicting ideas and troubling thoughts flooded his mind. His eyes wandered back to the cross. Most of the people had vacated, except for a few. There were several still at the place where Yeshua was crucified. Some stood stoically, while others were weeping. Eleazer watched them, long past the time the bodies had been removed by the professionals under the watchful eye of the Romans. Those mourning the loss of Yeshua were not permitted to go along, so they stayed and wept.
Something in Eleazer drew him from the wall. Compassion? Sympathy? No, but nonetheless, step after step, he moved closer. Reddened eyes of people soaked to the bone with both rain and sorrow looked at him as he approached.
A man, obviously one of those who followed Yeshua, saw Eleazer coming and stood in a protective stance. One of the weeping women saw the gesture and held up a hand for him to stand down. “Yochanon, don’t,” she said, as she, too, beheld the bizarre approach of someone whom they would soon come to know as Eleazer.
She moved forward to Eleazer and addressed him first. “I am Miriam. Yeshua is my son. And you are?”
“Is your son?” Eleazer repeated, pondering the weirdness of tense, given the circumstances. But he did not correct her. “Uh, Eleazer,” he began, but then continued, “Uh, ben Shimon. Eleazer ben Shimon. The Zealot,” he added. But Eleazer did not know why he felt the need to add that last bit. He had seen Miriam weeping as he approached, as many of those with her did, especially because of the horrific cruelty of the Romans. But she was not broken. Her eyes were as confident as they were marred by grief.
“Yeshua is more than just my son. He was the hope for many, but for us,” Miriam gestured to those standing behind her, “for us, he still is that hope… and more!”
“Is?” Eleazer murmured, flabbergasted, as the remaining blood-stained wood was washed clean by the waters flooding down from the gates of Heaven. “How can you say that after what has just happened?”
To Eleazer’s astonishment, Miriam smiled. “Because death is not the end. You see it as the final act. But Yeshua… his purpose was never to conquer the Romans, not with swords or armies. His kingdom was not of this world. He came to conquer death, to offer freedom that no empire can ever take.”
Eleazer had heard Yeshua speak of a kingdom not of this world, but he had dismissed it as poetic nonsense. He couldn’t reconcile it with the harsh reality of Roman occupation, with the need for a strong leader to liberate the Jewish people. “A kingdom not of this world? What kind of Mashiach speaks like that? What kind of salvation does that bring?”
Miriam stepped closer, the rain continuing to pour down around them, making the entire world feel like it was drowning in grief. She reached out and touched Eleazer’s arm lightly, an unexpected gesture of compassion. “The kind of salvation that lasts. The kind that doesn’t die with the rise and fall of empires. You don’t understand yet, but you will. Yeshua’s body may be gone, but his spirit… his purpose… it lives on. There are things you can’t see, Eleazer, things that are only just the beginning.”
“The beginning of what?” Eleazer puzzled. “Even if you’re right, that doesn’t help us now. The Romans are still here, and we’re still slaves and oppressed in our own land.”
Miriam smiled with understanding. “What you seek is only part of the story. Yeshua came to free you from more than the Romans. He came to free you from the fear that drives men to hatred, to violence. You and the others, you see war as the only way. But war will only bring more death.”
Eleazer shook loose of her arm, feeling the familiar anger rising inside him. “We cannot wait for a messiah to come and save us with words! Words, words, words! All I hear from you people are words! The Jews need action; we need someone who can lead them to that action, not someone who tells them to forgive their enemies and turn the other cheek so that it can be equally abused.”
“You will see, Eleazer,” Miriam said, once again putting her hand on his arm. “This is only the beginning of what Hashem has planned. Trust in Adonai, trust in Hashem.”
Miriam then turned away, walking back to the small group of followers who had stayed to mourn, leaving Eleazer standing in the rain, alone with his many disconcerting thoughts.
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As the events at Golgotha faded into one of many memories in a blur of existence, Eleazer found himself with his contingent of Zealots patrolling the road to Emmaus, leading from Jerusalem. Their job was to surveil all Roman traffic and to stop Jewish groups to determine their loyalty to a liberated Israel.
When they could, they would try to intercept messages or supplies, and even engage smaller Roman contingents, leaving nobody alive. It was ruthless work, but there were many costs and sacrifices for liberation, and the job of Eleazer’s contingent was to make sure that Rome was the one bearing the costs and sacrifices, along with Roman sympathizers.
They were just one of a dozen similar contingents along many of the arteries connecting Jerusalem with the Galilee and Bethlehem and Jericho. The goal was to get a stranglehold of the area and stockpile resources for expelling the Romans out of Judea and keeping them out.
That was the plan, anyway.
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A scout signaled the contingent, who had already taken positions. A small group was approaching from the direction of Jerusalem. Eleazer and his second, Thomas, led the arrest. The group was from Jerusalem. They were compliant, and they were clearly not sympathizers. They were Pharisees. Eleazer and the group relaxed a bit.
But then, suddenly, as if from a dream, Eleazer recognized Miriam in the group, and then he recognized the large man she called Yochanon.
“Miriam?” Eleazer asked, to the surprise of his men, who looked bewildered. He almost did not recognize her. She did not appear nearly as old as she had just a few weeks before. She seemed bubbly and light. It was odd. Very odd. Her face glowed with a radiance Eleazer could not fathom.
Thomas, his second, looked up in amazement, asking Eleazer, “Do you know these people?”
“Well,” Eleazer replied, “I know Miriam here; she is the mother of Yeshua,” then, pointing to her caregiver, said, “and this one is Yochanon. I met them at the death of Yeshua.”
“The one they called the Mashiach?” Thomas wondered aloud.
“The one we call the Mashiach,” Miriam corrected.
Eleazer turned to Thomas with a shrug. It was Thomas who turned back. “The rumors,” he said with deep cynicism, “you believe the rumors?”
Miriam turned to those she was traveling with, waving her arms before all of them as a quick introduction. “We started the rumors.”
“You?” Thomas said, glancing back at Eleazer. “Started the rumors? Why would you do that? Do you know what kind of havoc you have caused in Jerusalem? In the Sanhedrin? Even in the outlying areas? Again, why? Why would you do that?”
“Because they are true,” Miriam replied simply, innocently.
Eleazer looked at Miriam. “You want us to believe that Yeshua came back to life, rolled a stone away that was as big as the side of a house, overpowered a dozen Roman guards, and all that after being not only crucified, but also speared through the heart? What do you take us for?”
“A skeptic,” Miriam said. “I take you for a skeptic. But, as it turns out, most of the Zealots feel as you do. Skeptical, I mean. It’s quite all right. The Sanhedrin was also not thrilled to hear of the empty tomb, the unconscious guards, nor the violated seal of Caesar that was upon the stone. They made up some story about the body being stolen. Can you believe it? That we would defile ourselves by touching a corpse just to deceive you? For what purpose? To what end?”
“Power, influence,” Eleazer started, but then he suddenly stopped himself, blushing. That was exactly NOT what these people craved, nor what Yeshua taught. His kingdom was not of this world, and he knew it. He knew it all too well. The struggle of the Zealots floundered because this was so very true. So, he said simply, “It is very dangerous, these rumors. They could easily get you killed.”
“I know. Our dearest Stephen has already given his life for the way,” Miriam lamented. But it was oddly a joyful lament.
“The way?” Eleazer repeated. “Seems trite.”
“Ah,” Miriam agreed. “We are not flashy people, you understand. But there is only one way to Hashem, and it is through Yeshua. How did he put it? All we like sheep have gone astray. He is the great shepherd.”
“Was,” Eleazer corrected. “His flock scattered.”
“Dear Eleazer, don’t you yet see? Hundreds join the way every day. His flock is larger than you could ever imagine.”
“Who?” he shot back.
“Everybody, nobody. Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes, Zealots, even Romans.” Miriam smiled.
“The way is made up of sympathizers with Rome?” Eleazer accused.
“No, we will change Rome from within. If Hashem is willing, all of Rome will one day follow the way.” Miriam clapped her hands together with glee.
Eleazer’s mind spun out of control. Who was this crazy woman with these crazy words? She should be distraught in mourning, but clearly, she wasn’t. She was here, and she was compelling.
“But,” Eleazer continued, “the Sanhedrin said that the belief in Yeshua as the Mashiach is NOT an acceptable Jewish idea. To believe that… to believe you, Miriam… that means being expelled from the Synagogue, the Temple, the Jewish community entirely.”
“Possibly,” Miriam agreed, “but I assure you, that will be just the start of what it will cost you. Like Stephen, it will likely cost you everything and then some. Your wealth, your stature, your life. Probably even your little Zealot movement, if I were to be completely candid with you.”
Finally, Eleazer could not take it anymore. “Go,” he shouted. The group began to continue on their way. “But,” he added, looking to Miriam, “please, be careful.”
The joy never left Miriam’s eyes, as she nodded to him and went her way. As Eleazer watched them depart, his heart was more conflicted than ever. Despite the Sanhedrin, could Yeshua be alive? What’s more, could he be the Mashiach? Were Miriam and her beloved followers of the way lying? Or did they really believe Yeshua was alive? Would they really die to prop up such a grand lie?
As Eleazer thought about it more and more, the less it made sense. So many times, he just wanted to give in, walk away from it all, choose this mysterious manifestation of Adonai. But to leave his movement? Abandon his people? But then Eleazer would start thinking about the joy in Miriam’s eyes. They were haunting and unnatural. But, fortunately for Eleazer, he would never have to see those eyes again.
Used with permission by the author. Find the author’s complete works online: Complete Works of Mack Samuels
