***
At long last, Claudia reached the peak of the hill again. She had followed perhaps half a mile behind Lucius Tullius, her eyes glued to him in deep contemplation. Even after their second, more open conversation, she still did not really trust him. Was he on her side? Did he resent the death of Jesus as much as she did? Was he willing to leave Rome for his scruples? Was she?
The ascent had been unending, and lonesome. More than anything Claudia longed for a kindred spirit to share company with, but she had never been able to make friends before, and she certainly would not now. As a child she had seen every girl her age as a competitor for a rich man's bride; and as a woman, everyone around her cared only for politics, money and themselves. Even her husband only summoned her for pleasure or rebuke: rarely for mutual conversation! It was but a silly dream, to hope that she could ever have a friend.
Yet, as Claudia trudged on with mysterious Lucius Tullius in her sights, she craved him.She found a spot on the ground, at the top of Calvary, behind a group of Jews, whose bitter weeping kept the Roman soldiers from coming too close. She could still see Jesus lifted high. His body was limp against his cross, and Claudia could not suppress her shudders. Every time her tearful eyes blinked and refocused on the Son of God again, she wondered how human beings - people, with blood and a heart and a brain like her - could be so ruthless. So unfalteringly obedient. What if Pilate decided tomorrow that his wife was worthy of crucifixion too? She had shed no blood and done no ill, but neither had Jesus. Would the soldiers obey her husband then?
Claudia decided not to think about that. She could only hope that as more and more Hebrews left, she would not be seen and the soldiers, snarling and cruel though they were, might start to heed their conviction. Her husband could hide from his guilt from within the palace walls, but if he had seen Jesus Christ's blood-stained body hanging before him as Claudia could, the guilt would surely have become inescapable.
Is Tullius starting to feel guilty? Please, Father of this Jesus, do not let him ignore his conviction any longer. Haunt him with it, as my transgressions haunt me -
Suddenly Claudia opened her eyes and mouth. Was that a prayer?
As if God was answering a joyful 'Yes!', an instant, strong wind blew all around her, forcing her to hold on tight to her blanket/disguise. Claudia smiled. But then a voice spoke out nearby:
'If you are the Son of God, save yourself from this fate!' Another added,
'He saved others, himself he cannot save!'
'How shall you destroy our holy temple now, Messiah!?'
Claudia's eyes hardened on the mocking Jews a few cubits away. She could feel the heat of blood flushing her cheeks as she fought to keep her temper at bay.
'If he desired to, he would save himself.' she muttered to her drawn up knees. 'He is the very manifestation of salvation, you fools.'And yet, deep down Claudia too longed to see Jesus save himself from this awful fate. She could not understand why he would surrender to humanity when he had the power to slay them all with one thought! But she would find out soon enough. Until then, however, she ignorantly asked herself why he was so gentle, so quiet, so willing.
By the feet of Jesus there was a group of women standing, which had not moved an arm's length from the cross all day: not when Jesus' was carrying it, nor while it carried him. Claudia had noticed them a few times, but only after some hours of sitting on the hill did she give them her full attention. They did not mourn Jesus as his other followers did. They did not weep as though their king was dying. They cried, and shuddered, and shook their heads in grief, but more like unto the family of a man who was leaving for battle: as though they loved him, respected him, and would possibly see him again someday.
But there was something else which felt different about them, too. Was it hope? Shock? No, it looked more like gratitude! Perhaps they did not view Jesus as a man leaving for battle after all; perhaps these women were emotional because he had, somehow, won the battle for them already.
Eager to understand the women better, Claudia slowly, cautiously, edged closer to them. She stopped a few metres away, not daring to go any further. From years of learning and living in Israel, Claudia was able to understand most of their choked sobs:
'Oh God, do not let him suffer. Ease the pain, I pray you, Lord God of Abraham, and Isaac...'
'Jesus, you are God in life, and in death. Nothing shall diminish your power...'
'My son, my son!' a rather more hysterical woman cried. Claudia could not see her face, but glimpsed the back of her black hair. 'The son of my virginity, my eldest, my firstborn!'
Claudia immediately looked up at Jesus again, her eyes wide.
'The son of my virginity'? she asked herself. What could that mean? Has this woman's grief driven her to lunacy?
'Mary,' an older, grey-haired woman addressed the crying one tenderly, 'let us remember what Job said, when he lost all that he possessed. 'The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.''
'He has raised others to life again, dear Mary. Let us not forget that! Let us have faith in God. He shall not leave you alone.'
But no matter how much the women tried to comfort the mourning mother, Mary remained inconsolable. As much as it pricked Claudia's conscience to admit, she was relieved to finally find a woman who felt as helpless and miserable as she did. Jesus' enemies had flocked in their hundreds to mock him that day, but one by one they were tiring and leaving the hill. Now, at long last, the chaff had blown away and Claudia could see a few final grains of wheat, whose heads all bowed before the Lord.
'Woman,' a hoarse voice called out, snapping several heads in his direction, 'behold thy son.'
Claudia watched as Jesus slowly gestured his head towards a nearby Hebrew man, who, until he heard Jesus' voice, had been staring solemnly at the ground. Now he gazed up at his Master. 'Behold thy mother!' Jesus told him.
The man nodded up at Jesus weakly, before approaching Mary, his newly ordained mother. He put a caring arm around her, and just as Claudia was about to glimpse her face, the woman buried it in the man's chest, sobbing.
The sight was almost warming. Perhaps if Jesus could put two people together that easily, he could also bring along a companion for Claudia -
YOU ARE READING
The Stranger of Galilee
SpiritualHolding her breath, Claudia lay her head down against the ground and willed herself to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. When she had desired more adventure in her life, this was not at all what she meant! While the garden they were in was beautiful...