Tempting Christ

A Dangerous Plan

I kept my distance from Jesus and his traveling healing act. After all I'd done to Mary Magdalene, I expected he'd put me down if I got too close.

A sizeable crowd followed him everywhere. That helped me to stir up jealousy among the pharisees, priests, and teachers of the law. I'm not sure how much that would accomplish, but I could report it as progress to the Abominations if asked.

Primarily, what I did was watch. Listen. Try to figure out what he was up to.

As I stood there, a young man approached. He wore camel's hair and his sandals were worn nearly through. The youth's hair was wild and wooly, like a lion's mane. As he approached the crowd, Mary of Magdalene moved through it making a path for him.

She led him to Jesus. He was standing, placing hands on people one after another and healing infirmities of various kinds--a simple cold, a broken limb, deafness, or the casting out of a demon. Regardless of what else the Son of God was accomplishing, he was disrupting our network of spirits and control. At least among the poor.

I'd sent notes to those in power to move all possessions to the upper classes and to families of those jealous of the attention Jesus was gathering to himself. It was safer. Of course, many still assumed that I said that because I was trying to steal the glory of bringing down the Son of God for myself. Well, whatever. My hands were clean of their demise.

It reminded me of Jesus' comment about Satan's house being divided against itself, and I chuckled. Talk about understatement.

The young man sat before Jesus. The Son of God paused and looked down at him. "What is it I can do for you?" and said, "Rabbi, John has sent me to ask you, are you the one who is to come, or is there another."

Jesus smiled. "How is my cousin?"

"He's doing well. The crowds are a little less these days, as more and more of them are coming to you, but it's better for him. He likes to have the chance to talk with people one on one."

While the boy was talking, Jesus returned to healing the people in line. "I understand well how my cousin feels. Already, I miss the early days of my ministry as well." He sighed. "Go back, tell John what you see here, the healing of the blind and the lame are healed, the leper and the sinner are cleansed. Tell him he does good work, and that any who are not offended by me are blessed." Upon saying these words, he glanced up at a nearby building where three teachers of the law looked on with truly impressive frowns.

The boy nodded and rose. "I will go and tell him."

"Wait," Jesus said. He moved close to the boy and said, "raise up your water flask for me."

The boy did so. Jesus laid his hands on it and closed his eyes. He motioned for the crowd to give him space, then he spoke softly, so that none may hear. "John does well to fast and keep himself to locusts and wild honey, but I wish to give him something more. When next this flask is refilled, it will become wine. Tell John that it is okay for him to drink it, it is a foretaste of the feast that is to come."

The boy's eyes lit. "You have a sip, too, my friend."

"Thank you, Rabbi," he said. The two embraced.

I pondered that. How important was John to Jesus? How could I use him to cause damage to the Son of God? Possibly I could kill him, but what would that accomplish? It would make him grieve, possibly it would make him angry at me, but I didn't see it leading to any particular sin.

While I was thinking these thoughts, I noticed a woman sliding through the crowd, coming closer to Jesus. She was exceptionally short and slim, almost the size of a child. Her clothes were silk, but were not especially clean. Small tears were visible in the fabric. My guess was that until recently she'd been wealthy. From her expression and from the color of the thoughts surrounding her, I gathered she was in pain.

Cutting the line, she came up to Jesus and touched the fringe of his robe. I sensed the power flow out from him. At once, her emotions changed shape and texture. Her pain clearly had ceased and been replaced by a feeling of well-being and joy.

As quickly as she'd darted between the onlookers, she now slipped away.

Jesus stopped and turned around. "Who touched me?" he asked.

No one answered. The woman continued to move away.

Jesus spun in a circle, scanning the crowd. He found a stone and stood on it, then raised his hands to shelter from the sun. "Who touched me?" he yelled.

The woman paused and looked back. If I could see her through a crowd, surely he could? This must be another of his games.

"Who touched me?" Jesus called again.

"Master," Simon said. "The crowd presses you on every side. How can you ask who touched you?"

"Power went out from me. Someone here has been healed."

At this the slim woman's joy faded, and she came forward in trembling and surrounded by the shadows of fearful thoughts.

The whole thing seemed strange to me. Why did Jesus sometimes blind himself and, at other times, allow himself to see? How could he heal someone without knowing who it was?

As the woman came within sight of Jesus, she dropped to her knees and folded her hands before herself. Still shaking, she said in a tremulous voice. "It was I who touched you. I--I had an illness. I--I bled for so many years and no doctor could help me." She paused and took a deep breath. "I thought, if I could but touch you I'd--I mean, I didn't want to trouble you, or upset you or anything, I just--"

"Daughter," Jesus interrupted her. He came forward, took her hands in his, and helped her to her feet. "Be of good cheer. Your faith has saved you."

A hesitant smile shone on her face.

So, Jesus had let her be afraid, only to show everyone how nice he could be? Why?

After doing this, Jesus turned and looked right at me, his pale brown eyes boring into me. On his face was a knowing smile, almost it asked a question: what did you think of that?

What I thought was that it was time to flee. With all speed I darted into the wilderness, to a place among the rocks, sand, snakes, and scorpions.

What did I think?

In a way, I was like this woman. I tried to touch him, to strike him without being seen, to rob him of at least some portion of his power. Was he saying that he would show mercy to me?

No, I wasn't that stupid.

But then, what if he meant it? He seemed so focused on showing mercy, on being kind. What was that thing he said? That we should turn the other cheek when struck?

Maybe that was the key to destroying him. If I hurt him enough, brought out his anger, he'd strike me down and contradict his own teachings. I'd have to rely on my soul coin to save me. If it all worked, I'd come away from this covered in glory--but I wasn't sure I cared about that anymore. What I wanted was Mikal back in my life. I wanted to take care of her, see that she was provided for, that she had a chance to develop her talents and to be happy.

I discarded the risky and self-destructive plan. Best to play it safe. Encourage the jealousy of the pharisees, prod Judas's sense of social justice when he was out and about spending money to feed the poor--and above all, keep my distance from the Son of God.

As I was thus pondering my future and my fate, another summons from the Abominations arrived. The messenger grinned at me with bright golden eyes and gleaming fangs. There was something in that smile that made me think this meeting would go worse for me than the others.