Mary of Nazareth Read Free Page B

Nazareth often complained about them. They were reckless, dangerous young men their parents should have kept locked up at home. What did they gain by provoking Herod’s mercenaries? One day, because of them, every village in the region would be wiped out. A rebellion! A rebellion of the weak and the powerless, which the king and the Romans could put down whenever they chose!
    Not that there weren’t plenty of reasons to rebel. The kingdom of Israel was drowning in blood, tears, and shame. Herod was the cruelest, most unjust of kings. Now that he was old and nearing death, his cruelty was compounded by his madness. Even the Romans, soulless pagans that they were, were not as bad as Herod at his worst.
    As for the Pharisees and Sadducees, the custodians of the Temple in Jerusalem and its wealth, they were not much better. They shamelessly submitted to the king’s every whim. The laws they made were not there to promote justice, merely to help them hold on to the trappings of power and increase their wealth.
    Galilee, far to the north of Jerusalem, had been ruined by the taxes that enriched Herod and his sons and all those who shared in their shameless ways.
    Yes, Yahweh, as he had done more than once since he had made his covenant with Abraham, had turned his back on his people and his kingdom. But was that a reason to answer violence with violence? Was it wise, when you were weak, to provoke the strong and risk unleashing widespread carnage?
    â€œMy father says you rebels are stupid,” Miriam said, trying to make her voice sound as reproving as possible. “You’re going to get us all killed.”
    Barabbas laughed. “I know. A lot of people say that. They complain about us as if we were the cause of their misfortunes. They’re scared, that’s all. They prefer to sit on their backsides and wait. And what are they waiting for? Who knows? The Messiah, perhaps?”
    Barabbas dismissed the word with a gesture of his hand, as if to scatter the syllables into the night.
    â€œThe kingdom is full of messiahs, fools, and weaklings, men, every one of them. You don’t need to have studied with the rabbis to know that we can’t expect anything good from Herod and the Romans. Your father is deceiving you. Herod was slaughtering, raping, and stealing long before we came on the scene. That’s what keeps him and his children going. They’re only rich and powerful thanks to our poverty! Well, I’m not the kind of person who waits. They won’t find me cowering in my hole.”
    He fell silent, choked with anger. Miriam did not say a word.
    â€œIf we don’t rebel, who will?” he went on, his voice even harder. “Your father and all the old men like him are wrong. They’ll die whatever happens. And they’ll die as slaves. But I’ll die as a Jew, a son of the great people of Israel. My death will be better than theirs.”
    â€œMy father is neither a slave nor a coward. He’s as brave as you are….”
    â€œWhat good did his bravery do him just now? He had to beg when the mercenaries found you hiding on the terrace!”
    â€œI was only there because you needed saving! They broke everything in our house and our neighbor’s houses, my father’s work, our furniture. All that, just so that you could show off!”
    â€œOh, be quiet! I’ve already told you, you talk like a child. Such matters are not for children!”
    They had tried to talk quietly, but had both been carried away by the argument. Miriam ignored the insult. She turned to the staircase, her ears pricked, to make sure that there was no noise inside the house. Whenever her father got out of bed, the bed emitted a particular creak that she always recognized.
    Reassured, she turned to face Barabbas again. He had walked away from the logs and was now leaning over the low wall, looking for a way to get down from the terrace.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” she