Eshtine

enjoying the miracle

ìI donít want to just follow Jesus around from a distance. That tells me nothing about what he and his followers are really like. I wish there was some way I could spend time among them, but they seem to be a closed circle.î Plus, as a member of the Sanhedrin I had to be careful about my associations, but I didnít need to mention this to Gamaliel.
He didnít look up from his scroll. He just said casually, ìDo you know whoís with them? Your friend from Magdala.î
ìMaryís son?î
ìNo.î
It couldnít be. ìMary?î
ìShe has found a new charity.î
ìButÖwhat about herÖ?î
ìMaybe you should try to see her yourself.î
I had met Mary Magdelene years ago. She was one of the most generous patrons to the school where I taught. Sheíd been married to a wealthy aromatic oils merchant; after he died their son took over the business and kept her well provided for. She went with him every year to Jerusalem for Passover. While in the city one year she discovered our school. She learned we wanted to seek out and teach poor students with a talent for the scribeís craft. Without any advance notice she began sending us whatever we needed for their room and board and supplies. Every time she came back to Jerusalem she visited the school and thus got to know the teachers.
I was fond of her. The first time we met was a day I was late getting to the school. I came in my room and this voice, harsh as a ravenís caw, challenged me: ìYour students wish to learn from someone. They deserve a teacher who will be here on time.î
I had been told a generous benefactress would be making a visit, so this strange womanís presence was not a shock. I looked at her lined face and in her sharp eyes and saw the hint of a smile. I said, ìWhat teacher they deserve matters little; I am the teacher they have. Let us begin with Leviticus today, class.î
From then on she greeted me with insults. She was fond of me too.
Mary Magdelene possessed a strange spirit; restless, intense. Though she came faithfully to crowded Jerusalem for the biggest festival of the year, she disliked being around so many people at once (she was there to humor her son, who used the occasion of a religious holiday to make business contacts). She spent much of the time in our quiet classrooms. Sheíd be foul-tempered on arrival and as demure as a kitten on departureóor the other way around. There was no way to predict it.
I spoke with her son about her sometimes when he came looking for her. ìMy fatherís death did this to her, I think,î he whispered to me when she was busy terrorizing a student. ìShe used to enjoy life so much more. Now she sleeps for days or walks the house for hours. When she is active, sheís furiously active, as if sheís making up for lost time. I wonder if she isnít ruled by contrary forces.î
The last time I saw Mary was the time she couldnít recognize me. She was standing in the street, staring up at the sky with her jaw slack and her frame trembling. I said ìMary!î She turned her face toward the sound of her name, but her eyes were dead blank.
ìIím so scared of it,î she said. ìIím so scared. Iím so scared.î Her voice was high and thin, a wind through reeds, nothing like her usual throaty tone. And still she shook so hard I wished I had a dozen blankets to wrap her in.
ìLook at me,î I begged, the hairs on my neck rising without my knowing why. ìItís me. Itís Nicodemus.î
ìIím so scared.î
When I tried to grab her by the shoulders (desperate for any way to help), she pulled back as if from fire, then turned and ran. I ran after her. I caught up with her on an unfamiliar street. She sank to the ground, alternately gulping air and wailing.
When her breath was back she knew me again. ìI saw the Angel of Death in the sky,î she confessed, head down and held in her hands. ìIt was huge and black. Its shadow covered everything. It wanted to swallow me up.î
I couldnít think what to say. We found our way back to where she and her son were staying. He pulled at my arm as I was leaving. ìThe priest has told me seven devilsówhy would any woman have seven devils, Nicodemus? Why would my mother? And what can I do?î
I couldnít think of anything to say to him either. They stopped visiting the school and I stopped hearing anything about how she was doing.
And now, it seemed, I could find her with Jesus.
The preacher, I determined through careful inquiry, had a base of operations in Capernaum near all the fishing boats. I set off for the town with the stated intention of recruiting new students. I visited the market several days before I saw her.
She looked just as I remembered, which was strange as she should have looked much older. Her eyes were still sharp but the lines around them curved differently; she was smiling more. She was at the head of a small army of women, arms laden with loaves.
ìMary!î I called. Her head turned. She gasped and walked over quickly, first handing her bread to her companions and issuing some kind of orders.
ìNicodemus! What are you doing here?î
I smiled. ìLooking for you.î
We walked the length of the market and back, almost shouting our catching-up stories to be heard over the criers at the stalls. I kept getting distracted by the smells of the fruitóI hadnít eatenóand finally bought some grapes to feast on with my old friend.
She must have known what I really wanted to ask. ìIím cured, Nicodemus. Jesus cured me.î
ìWhat did he do?î
ìI donít know,î she admitted with a laugh. (It was so good to hear her laugh.) ìBut the devils are gone. I no longer see terrors in the sky or hear things other people canít. Even my rest is better. I donít sleep a full day anymore.î
îAnd now you are a disciple?î
ìI take care of them. I organized a group of womenómostly widows like me, women of means. We travel with Jesus and the apostles making sure they have enough to eat; we arrange places for everyone to stay as they go from town to town. They are not themselves practical, weíve found. Oh, Jesus is very practical, but all the rest have been taken care of by their women all their lives. They donít know the first thing about providing for their survival.î
ìBut you say Jesus does?î
ìOh, yes,î she said with another laugh. ìJesus knows the first thing. He knows who to ask for help!î
She took another grape, chewing it slowly, watching the crowds as they jostled past. I realized suddenly what I was seeing. ìCrowds donít bother you anymore?î
She shook her head. ìI am determined that nothing will bother me anymore. Itís hard work but thatís what I want.
ìYou know what remember about being cured? Hearing Jesusí voice saying, ëYouíre free.í I remember thinking, ëI donít know what that word means.í Itís what I intend to find out. I will not live like a captive. I will live a deliberate life, now that Iíve been given the chance.î She gave me a challenge with her eyes just like she used to. Many a time Iíd withered under that glare. ìSo what about you, Nicodemus? Youíre not here to see an old woman, with or without devils.î
ìYouíre not an old woman.î
ìIím older than you, and youíre not young.î
ìNot as young as your current traveling companions.î
ìOh!î she shrieked in mock rage. ìI see what you think of me!î
I lowered my voice. ìI want to know more about them, Mary.î