November 13, 2020   3pm est

Georgia's 16 electoral votes have just been called for Joe Biden. 70% of the country has breathed a sign of relief that the horrifying nightmare of the last four years is coming to a conclusion. There are not enough words to describe the depth of immorality, ignorance, and mental and emotional instability personified in one man. We have much work to do rebuilding this country. At last we have decent, qualified leadership.

On another note, after fits and starts, I have finished the third in my trilogy on early Christian origins. I hope you will read, think, and challenge any suggestions and implications you free inclined to.

Preface to the trilogy

 “Very God of Very God,” “made man.”

                For almost seventeen centuries the Christian church  has wrestled with how to understand the nature of Jesus. Shaped by a pre-modern, pre-scientific world view, the followers of the apocalyptic, messianic prophet from Nazareth soon found themselves embroiled in a heated debate over what to believe and how to proclaim just who and what Jesus was. Some insisted, in traditional Jewish terms, that the messiah (moshiach) was to be a human being with historically realized goals on behalf of the Jewish people. Others quickly defined him as a spiritual entity, sent into our world to deliver the necessary “gnosis” for human salvation, but void of any genuine human, physical characteristics. This meant technically that he was unable to feel human desire or physically suffer. The interpretation that came to be “orthodox,” and was embodied in the Nicene Creed was a hybrid compromise, politically motivated, that was not entirely acceptable to either extreme. There is much to be explored in the positions briefly described, but that is not the purpose of this book.

                The expectations of the first group, known as Jewish or Ebionite Christians in contemporary parlance, were not fulfilled. The dualistic, otherworldly position, known as docetic and/or gnostic, must be rejected as a relic of pre-Enlightenment mentality. The synthesis found in the third resolution is rationally, philosophically, and theologically defenseless. However, over two billion believers today accept the explanation as “mystery” and move forward “on faith.”

                Unfortunately, in the process and in reality, for the overwhelming majority of Christians, any discussion or emphasis of the truly human nature of Jesus is offensive and ignored. Can you imagine Jesus performing bodily functions? Can you imagine Jesus having sex or fathering a child? I not only recognize that he could have, but that he probably did, and I hope this is enough to entice you to enter the world I explore in the following pages.

                This trilogy is the product of an ongoing process covering forty years of study, research, conversation, and honest effort to go where the path led. I must thank former theology classmates, challenging professors, questioning colleagues, hundreds of students demanding that theses be defended, and fellow seekers, some willing and others reluctant, who encouraged this small effort to move the dialogue along.

                I especially express gratitude to my daughters whose questions then and now force me to be open and humble. To my wife whose presence on this journey was and is indispensable, I am forever indebted.

Preface to Part I: Jesus: A Would be Messiah

Section I: Caiaphas

Looking back in retrospect

If I had known then what I know now, I would have let the little mamzer drown.

                I love the seaside, especially in early summer before it gets too hot and unpleasant. The cool breezes coming off the Sea of Galilee with the smells of fish and market help you forget. Even then, I couldn’t wait to get out of Jerusalem and head north. Despite the extra miles required to avoid the stinking, unclean Samaritans by detouring through the Decapolis, I didn’t dread the five day trip. There was much to see, and playful games with children’s mischievous antics helped pass the time quickly.

             Our ancestor home in Capernaum was a needed get away. I never tired of hearing the stories. My patriarch Levi had asked Father Israel for a homestead, as a family retreat in what the Romans called Galilee. He had agreed, and Levi settled on the northwest coast of the Sea. Fishing was bountiful, and pasture lands were lush. Even though many relatives made the sojourn during the great drought, a few stayed, never relinquishing our claim to the land. When the Law Giver brought them home and Yeshua claimed the land, my ancestors were allowed to keep the small parcel for family use.

             Being from the tribe of Levi, it was our blessing and calling to serve the children of Abraham as perpetual priests. Serving the people and being served by the people put us in a unique position. We did not share in the distribution and assignment of the land like the other tribes. Especially when moshiach David conquered Jerusalem and centered the worship of the one true G-d in his new capitol, my family gathered there to perform our priestly duties. I have to admit, it was a privileged life.

                The rotation of Temple duties required proximity to the Temple Mount, and from the beginning, the choicest land was reserved for priestly families. The Temple tax provided for the upkeep of the sanctuary, priestly vestments, and implements (one robe correctly stitched and ornately embroidered could cost 500 denarii). Except for the brief time following Yehudah Maccabeus’ grand liberation, the tax paid the tribute to ruling overlords, and provided a very comfortable living for all the priestly families.

             Grandfather Seth built the family compound in the fifth year of Pompey’s rule. When jealousy and political intrigue pitted brother against brother and cousin and cousin, Pompey’s enforced order brought an uneasy peace and, even if from external origins, much desired security. With that security, an important part of which was financial, Abba Annas’ position was guaranteed. As High Priest it was imperative that he look and live the part. This included the finest of residential standards and a lifestyle that was the envy of everyone.

             Abba Annas chose a promontory northwest of the Herodian Temple as the place to build his house. From here one had an unrestricted view of the gleaming walls and magnificent roof of the Temple. Direct access to the southwest stairs leading to the Coponius Gate let us observe all who came and went. He knew everything that happened, but more importantly, all who came and went could not avoid seeing our home and knowing that this was where the most important person in Jerusalem lived. Everyone, man, woman, child, Gentile, and Adonai’s chosen people entered the Temple under the critical judgment  and generous permission of the High Priest. Everyone answered to him. He answered to no one but G-d and, of course, Caesar.

Annas spared no expense. Despite jealousy and rumors of Temple treasury used for personal gain, the people of Israel had to understand that Adonai’s priests deserved comfort in recompense for lives devoted to ritual performance. And his house had every comfort imaginable.

Built on three levels, it measured over 2000 square feet. The courtyard, where guests first entered, household commerce was transacted, and servants’ and family pets were quartered, opened to the west. On opposite sides of this never quiet center of activity were two mikvot, one for males--the crown of Adonai’s creation--and one for females, our given helpmates. Every precaution was taken to guarantee personal, ritual purity, which was our obligation and gratitude to the one true G-d. The entire area was walled and gated for necessary safety.

                The second level contained the great Judgment Hall. Here Annas conducted legal and civic business. One side opened to overlook the courtyard. From below family and interested parties to the discussions above saw and heard as arguments were made and decisions rendered. On this level, the opulence was obvious and intentional. Mosaic floors done by the best craftsmen in Jerusalem were everywhere. Breathtaking frescoes of elaborate floral design covered every wall. The finest glassware and ceramics the Mediterranean world had to offer were conspicuously placed throughout the Judgment Hall and adjacent banquet room. Carpets from Persia, couches and tables intricately handcrafted from the mountains of Lebanon, bronze and gold vessels from Egypt filled every space. The balcony, that ran the full length of the eastern side of the house, provided the unobstructed view of the Temple. Everyday the family could stand in awe of the gold plated House of the L--d, established by Solomon and crowned by Herod.

The third level gave no less testimony to the prominence of this family. It contained the private quarters where once again the creature comforts lauded social status. From furniture to imported cosmetics, jewelry to silk robes, crafted leather to Aegean purple, only Herod the Great himself could boast of greater wealth.

             Some people just could not understand or appreciate that rank has privileges and responsibilities. Annas bore the heavy obligation of balancing Roman expectations and Temple requirements. Most critics were open, sometimes violent, in their self-righteous opposition to ritual and monetary levies; they could be controlled by Rome when necessary, or more routinely by Temple Guard. Other critics, even the handful among the priesthood, were more subtle and passive in their protests.

             For example, there was a minor functionary named Zechariah who deliberately chose to live outside the Temple compound, and refused the financial support due his station. He took his wife, I think her name was Elizabeth, to reside in Ein Kerem, rejecting the comforts of Jerusalem. Even when in late life they had a son, he stubbornly refused to bring them into the city. I, unfortunately, underestimated the depth of public support these voices controlled.

                While my family never attained the office of High Priest itself, in important secondary roles we were responsible for the upkeep and cleanliness of the Temple proper, provided choir masters, served as musicians, and controlled security to the Temple Mount. As Chief Warden I got to know and be known by Annas, one of the most powerful and politically skillful men ever to serve as High Priest. Chosen to be his personal assistant, I developed religious and palace connections that proved to be very beneficial one day. It did not hinder those ambitions when I met Sarai, Annas’ daughter, and we eventually married. Truth be told, I was closer to him than his blood sons and received his endorsement to become High Priest, even before four of them.

                Sarai and I built our house just north of her father’s. The physical closeness allowed us to remain intimately involved in family activities. It also enabled me to maintain daily involvement with Annas, further learning religious and political skills that  one day came in very handy, and gave me access to his wisdom and judgment.

                I had no idea how all of this would collide with the world of a Galilean peasant and change the course of my world.

Preface to Part II: Paul: A Would be Apostle

Chapter 1

Under the Roman Heel

                The sound of the approaching soldiers sent fear throughout Gishala as parents anxiously gathered their children and sought safety in their meager houses. Melchi had been leading prayers in the synagogue when the first cries of panic and desperation reached his ears. He immediately thought of Hannah and the children, and, without removing his tzittzit, the prayer shawl his wife had lovingly made for him, after rolling the scroll, he ran for his house. Calling her name at the top of his lungs, Melchi met Hannah at the entrance to the courtyard and demanded to know where the children were. Julia and Simeon clung to their mother’s robe while she cradled Herodion in her arms, but twelve year old Saul was nowhere to be found. Before he could begin searching for his eldest son, Melchi and the family were forced inside the house by the Roman Petronius and his cohort.

                Inquisitive and naïve, Saul, who had gone to the village well to draw water for his mother, stood frozen, unable to fathom the gravity of the situation. Horses trampled old men and small children unable to get out of the way in time. Soldiers moved quickly and methodically from house to house, and when the dust settled, Petronius shouted for all to hear.

“You are under Caesar’s control and will do exactly as I say or suffer immediate consequences. Every family is to come forward. Fathers, bring your wives and children NOW.”

Knowing Roman impatience from years of servitude, the men of the village hustled the women and children as quickly as possible before the Roman invaders. Saul somehow avoided being caught on the end of an enthusiastic soldier’s spear and was able to locate his family among all the confusion. Fortunately, inhabitants were few and everyone knew everyone else. He was pushed along by friends until he saw his mother and father. His younger sister and brothers were crying inconsolably as Hannah wrapped her arms around them. Melchi grabbed Saul and drew him close.

Petronius indiscriminately selected ten young men from among the crowd, and, as the villagers watched, they were chained together with iron anklets that cut into their skin and were roped together by the neck. They were ceremoniously paraded through the crowd and last seen as they were escorted down the road toward Sepphoris. No amount of protests could change the Romans’ minds. No pleading denials could convince Petronius that the people of Gishala had had nothing to do with Judas the Galilean. No prayers could save the innocent.

YHWH was absent, deaf, blind, and had abandoned His people, at least this day.

“Listen carefully. You’ve got exactly one watch to go to your hovels; gather everything you can carry on your backs and come back here. Two of my men will go with each family to be sure you don’t try to do something stupid. I guarantee you I will personally kill anyone who disobeys or tries to escape. I suggest food and water be your main concern,” he said with a scowl on his lips.

-----------------------

                Under the watchful eye of the two guards assigned to them, Melchi and his family quickly headed home. He was able to convince the two, after some pleading and explanation, to let him make a very quick stop at the synagogue2 and collect the scroll he had been reading only recently. Arriving at their house, the family painfully chose the meager possessions they felt they could comfortably carry . Hannah gave each child only what they were physically able to take without slowing others down.

Saul, oldest and strongest, secured a grownup’s load in his blanket and slung it over his shoulder. The house and village were not much, but they were all Saul had ever known, and already there was a hole in his heart and hollowness in his soul. It was his world and his tie to the land promised to father Abraham. Saul was a Hebrew, a Jew, circumcised on the eighth day, like his namesake the first king of Israel from the tribe of Benjamin, and, like his father, he was becoming zealous for the Law.3 He too expected to become a Pharisee and, YHWH willing, a great teacher of his people. Those dreams seemed crushed under the Roman heel now.

                Back at village center, when everyone had returned according to orders, Petronius delivered what many considered a death sentence.

                “You are going north. The way is not easy and any stragglers will be eliminated. Keep up or die! Get in line and follow the standard bearer. Livestock will bring up the rear. I want three groups of ten young men who will take turns herding the animals along with us. Lose an animal, let one get away, and you will suffer the same fate. Do I make myself clear?”

                With his father’s blessing Saul quickly volunteered, assuming greater freedom in the assignment, and was given first watch. All others, men, women, and children, began the labored march out of Gishala, turning north. The last vision from over their shoulders was billowing black smoke. There was no turning back.

                Other than the few trips to Sepphoris, trips you could count on one hand, trips he had only recently been permitted to take with his father to pay required taxes, Saul had lived his short years in secluded Gishala. Today held both fear and adventure for a teenager old enough to know that the only way of life he had ever known was ending and to realize he was facing a new unknown beginning. It would not be the last time he faced the unknown.

                They soon found themselves on the Coastal Highway, and when Melchi realized their fate, knots formed in the pit of his stomach and tears filled his eyes. Every step took them farther from “home,” and the reality of separation seized their hearts. Melchi had heard of the Diaspora but never entertained the slightest idea that he would experience such sadness.

                Within days the road veered toward Damascus. Petronius had been replaced, actually reassigned to the Tyre and Sidon area, and the Gishala contingency had merged with other displaced groups from all over upper Galilee. Varus was returning to home base and taking the spoils of war with him. As news of where they were spread throughout the camp, a slight sigh of relief was almost audible. Maybe rest, maybe destination, maybe one day being allowed to return home. Frustration and despair do not begin to describe the disappointment when, after a week, the people were ordered to continue the journey north.

                Travel had become routine by now, not easy, but bearable. There had been casualties. Old Eleazer just could not keep up, and the Romans were not about to jeopardize the life of a donkey for an old Jew. A few sheep had wandered away undetected, and floggings followed to discourage it happening again. Even Saul had received a sound blow across his back for getting distracted from his duties. Truth be told, new sights, fascinating people, and the Sea- that wondrous magnificent Sea- captured the young man’s imagination. Tempted but anchored in tradition, Saul continued his study of Torah at every opportunity. Melchi even allowed other young men to join in his instruction, and every Sabbath, on the run or resting, he led the community in prayers. After all, all creation is the L—d’s and He is to be found everywhere. Wasn’t that Isaiah’s message? Part of the journey took the people through Arca, a land later to be ruled by Agrippa II, a name and man Saul would have occasion to meet.

                Along the route small groups were separated from the larger assembly and assigned to small villages as their permanent new homes. Traveling through Syria and Cilicia, Saul and his “neighbors” followed the Orontes River and arrived at the most magnificent city Saul had ever imagined. Antioch on the Orontes was a wonder to behold-- hellenized, urban, commercial, tempting, rich-- a virtual whirlpool. The streets were wide, and the temples gleamed in the sun. Sitting at the crossroads of major north/south and east/west trade routes, the city’s wealth was surpassed only by Rome and Alexandria. At the same time many religions of the empire found their home here and attracted many eager worshippers. It would not be his last visit to this opulent place, but it was not to be the stopping place now.

                Skirting the city center to the west, Saul and the remaining villagers from Gishala caught a glimpse of Mount Casius rising from the coast to a majestic height of over 5,000 feet. Being unfamiliar with the terrain, the group breathed a sigh of relief when the column took a more northern route, thinking they had avoided the hardships of having to cross that mountain range. Coming through the Beilan pass, the Plain of Antioch presented a welcome sight. It was five miles broad and 10 miles long, and the lure of easy walking was a welcome vision. But the looming view of Mount Amanus quickly sobered the exiles. One day of easy travel before the challenge of crossing the Tarsus Range.

                Like so many travelers before them-- free, slave, military, merchant caravans-- their hearts sank as they braced themselves for one more formidable obstacle. Word spread quickly throughout the camp. Maybe the soldiers were as tired as the folks from Gishala. Maybe they hoped for rest and home more than this weary band. For whatever reason, unlike most other times, the destination was openly discussed, and Saul and his family realized the journey’s end was in sight.

Well, “in sight” involved crossing the mountains, passing through the Cilician Gates, and continuing twenty miles down to the city of Tarsus. Unfortunately, that portion of the trip was made harder by torrential rains. Saul, his family, and the others were forced to sit in their meager tents, unable to escape the driving sheets of rain, soaked to the bone, and hungry like never before in their lives. Hannah and Melchi gave their portions to the younger children, but that soon ran out. Four of the older women died from hunger and exposure; one infant died when its mother’s milk dried up, and there was nothing to give it.

                Finally, a break in the weather, and the journey continued. Aided by sunny skies and the elevation of the western slope, the weary, hungry travelers beheld Tarsus stretched in front of them. The guards talked about the city’s proximity to the Mediterranean, actually ten short miles. The Cydnus River meandered through the center of the town, forming a picturesque view from their vantage point. Not quite visible but clear in the soldiers’ minds, the Cydnus flowed into Lake Rhegma, which served as the harbor for Tarsus and was situated halfway between the Mediterranean and Tarsus. It was a long way and a lifetime from Gishala, but Saul could not help but be excited. His family had survived; YHWH had delivered them. Remembering his father’s advice to always do his best, regardless of the circumstances, Saul nevertheless secreted the hope of returning home one day.

Preface to Part III: James: A Would be Follower

                As he had every morning for the last thirty-three years, Yaaqov woke with the rising sun, washed his hands, and recited

מודה אני לפניך מלך חי וקיים שהחזרת בי נשמתי בחמלה

רבה אמונתך.‏

[ "I give thanks before You, Living and Eternal King, that You have returned within me my soul with compassion; [how] abundant is Your faithfulness!"].

 He then relieved himself and performed the ritual cleansing in preparation for the morning meal. After blessing the meager fare of bread, dried figs, and fresh water ברוך אתה ה' א לוהינו, מלך העולם, המוציא לחם מן הארץ

["Blessed are You, LORD our God, King of the universe, Who brings forth bread from the earth."]

 he ate his breakfast and went to the Temple to spend the day in prayer.

                Yaaqov had not always been this observant, but his brother had had a profound impact on his life and practices. Now, in a demonstration of his commitment to continue and profess Yeshua’s proclamation of the immanent coming kingdom and in his role as his successor and leader of the Way, Yaaqov’s life carried profound meaning. This was not to mention the conflict with the faction who disregarded dietary and ethical regulations!

                To be honest his life was lonely at times, especially after Elizabeth’s death. She died in premature childbirth along with the child. He remembered their excitement when she finally got pregnant after years of thinking it would never happen. Before it did, they doted over Yeshua’s and Mariamne’s Yehuda. Older brother’s first son and oldest grandson, Yehuda was quite spoiled, and Mary, his grandmother, didn’t even try to hide her affection and patience with the precocious child. His wife’s death left an indescribable void in his heart.

                Yeshua’s death tightened the family bonds. As a widower it was even more expected that he would marry Mariamne and adopt Yehuda, but there was no physical attraction. She and Yeshua had been inseparable, and any thought of him being replaced was out of the question. Yaaqov quietly and dutifully took the child, the widow, and his own mother, now a widow for the second time, into his house, and they lived in inexpressible joy and sadness. After all, this was his brother’s dying request as he hung on the tree and succumbed to that brutal torture at the hands of the Roman overlords.

                His brother liked to say that YHWH doesn’t give us more burdens than we can bear, with YHWH’s help of course, but Yaaqov never completely grasped the seriousness of the claim until those awful events in Jerusalem all those years ago. So, surrounded and strengthened by family love, they naively forged ahead with their assumed responsibilities. Life didn’t stand still.

                Within two years after Yeshua’s death, Yehuda died of head pain, uncontrollable nausea, and intestinal bleeding. His mother and uncle buried him in the tomb with his father, and when time had done its work on the small body, they prepared a miniature ossuary and gently placed the bones in the box and the box beside his father’s. His grandmother was never consoled, and within the year, she too would find her place beside her son and grandson.

                Mariamne, not to be content simply keeping house and taking care of Yaaqov, found her own voice among the followers and growing community of the Way. She initially returned to Magdala to renew ties with the extended family she had left when she and Yeshua were married. She also spent some time in Capernaum, the Galilean home they shared before beginning the public ministry they shared with her brothers-in-law and early followers. Unfortunately, this proved too stressful for Cephas and his wife, especially when they showed up in the village for a brief stopover on their way to Antioch. She had never been completely comfortable around Cephas, and later reports of his vacillation between Jerusalem’s expectations and the rival Paul’s group only confirmed her suspicions. In addition to that, Cephas seemed to resent her relationship with Yeshua, denying her her rightful place in the community’s hierarchy. Cephas had always been a little uncomfortable with Yeshua’s emphasis on equality.

                Outwardly Mariamne was brave, composed, forceful. Yaaqov knew that inside, she grieved for a young husband and a child taken too soon from a mother that desperately loved him. The harassment from the Roman oppressors who never forgot the disturbance caused by her husband and his ardent followers, still suspicious of the criticism represented by Yeshua’s followers’ presence in Jerusalem, finally took its toll. Always diminutive and weakened by miscarriages as well as the lone childbirth, she eventually was limited to house care. Despite Yaaqov’s prayerful attention, she died leaving him completely alone again.

                He buried her with Yeshua, Yehuda, Mary, and Elizabeth. He and his brothers would join them in the coming years. For now, he was alone with his memories. With the women, he had reflected on the words and deeds of his brother. Like his mother and family, he had struggled with Yeshua’s early behavior, even trying to convince him that perhaps he was too zealous or too consumed or just mistaken. But with time he too became convinced. Now, without Mariamne, Mary, and Elizabeth, he was the keeper of the memories, the faithful preserver of the wisdom, the transmitter of the message. If not him, then who?

                So here he was, thirty-three years later. Like every morning before, he prepared to go to the Temple. The priests expected him, and he had been warned that Annas II, out of patience, was planning “something.” After all, the establishment remembered the disturbance he caused a few years back when he brought the troublemaker Paul and the gentile Trophimus into the Court of Israel. In his defense, Yaaqov did not know what Paul was up to. He hadn’t anticipated the arrogant demonstration that Paul, increasingly independent and hostile, would create.  Agrippa II was not going to tolerate any trouble either. Most importantly, Yaaqov’s followers expected him to continue his witness and challenge.

                This morning was different. He sensed it, an uneasiness, a tension in the air not unlike that evening thirty-three years ago. He and the others were caught completely off guard when Yudah Iscariot and the Roman cohort found them in the garden. Something told him things were just not right now, and the moment he set foot on the steps to the Huldah Gate, all doubts were removed.