Simple Men (932 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 1 review (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by JMG114 (View user info) at 2006-09-25 15:31:45 EDT
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James entered the small stone house and closed the creaky wooden door behind him. It was dusk, and the darkened room he entered had no torches or oil lamps burning. Still, he felt the presence of several men.
"Hello?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"You are late, James," spoke a singular, baritone voice from the darkness. James recognized it immediately.
"P-Peter!" he stammered, "Is everyone here?"
"All are present," Peter continued, "Sit down. We must be quick." As James's eyes adjusted to the dark, he was able to see ten men sitting on the small house's pressed earth floor.
"Where is he?" James asked. Everyone present knew to whom James referred without even hearing the ubiquitous name.
Andrew, Peter's brother, replied, "He walks in the fields. You'll note that another of our number is missing."
Without even blinking, James replied, "Judas."
Someone whispered something to someone else. James looked around again, nervously.
Peter began, "James, the time has come for us to take matters into our own hands. Tomorrow is an important day. Indeed, likely the most important day in any of our lives. Tomorrow, we enter Jerusalem. Do any of you know what will take place once we enter?"
A voice James recognized as that of young Thomas answered, "There'll be a riot."
"No," replied Peter, standing up to address the room, "There'll be a revolution. When the Master enters Jerusalem, people will hail him as the Messiah. People will bow to him. People will lay palms at his feet. But do you know the worst of it all?"
Simon the zealot piped up in his high voice, "The Sanhedrin and the Romans."
James saw Peter smile. "The Sanhedrin and the Romans. When anyone in any position of power, religious or political, will see a man entering Jerusalem before the feast of Passover, and that same man being welcomed as a ruler, a king, as God himself . . .do you not see where that will place us? As his most steadfast followers?"
"He will start a war one way or another," Matthew the tax collector said, "The people will begin to wonder why they have to listen to the Sanhedrin or the Roman authorities when God himself is in their midst. It's all been fun and games but now it's gone out of our hands. It's serious, and it will kill us all."
Peter nodded. "It will kill us all. Make no mistake that being associated with him, while once a source of pride, will become a liability once we enter Jerusalem's gates."
James swallowed, trying to sound as steadfast as his co-conspirators. "What then do we do? Have you tried talking to him?"
Some of the other disciples snickered. Peter shook his head. "You'd have better luck talking to the pieces of wood he carves! The man now exists in his own myth. It is no longer fiction to him. He truly believes that he is the Son of God, and what's worse is that the people now believe it as much as he does! Have you seen them throwing themselves at him? Pawing at him? Whores and cutpurses and murderers, all! They bow to him and call him Master!"
Bartholomew agreed, "How will that look to the Romans? How does it already look to the Sanhedrin council? How does it look when a man tells brigands and thieves that their sins are forgiven in the eyes of God? How does it look to you, James?"
James found himself nodding. "I have to admit, my faith in him has been shaken of late. I can't help but feel sometimes that this has all been a ruse and that he's merely attempting to rattle the status quo merely by telling people exactly what they want to hear—"
"And that he's tricked us!" Philip yelled, "He's tricked us all! The eleven of us bought it the most, and now it's exploded and he can't control it anymore! Neither can we!"
Peter admonished, "Quieter, Philip. The walls have ears, and the Master has his lapdog."
James shuddered again. Peter continued, "Judas the treasurer. Judas Iscariot. He has bought it, eaten it, and has even digested the bones of the thing. You can see the man's lovesick admiration every time the Master speaks."
"We were all that way once," James reminded the group.
Peter thundered, "Come off it, James! This is no time for games! In the countryside, the Master can say what he pleases. In Jerusalem, if he steps out of line or says the wrong thing, it will bring ruin not only to him but also to anyone who may have supported him or admired his words. Do you hear what I'm saying, James?"
James raised his eyebrows, upset to be at the receiving end of Peter's legendary temper. He looked around at the other disciples and then cast his gaze to the ground.
"You mean to betray him," James whispered.
No one answered, but James watched as each head nodded slowly. Peter, calm once more, spoke, "If you were the Sanhedrin and a man came in claiming to be God himself, you would call him a high blasphemer. If you were the Romans and a man came in claiming to be King of the Jews, you would throw him in chains."
James didn't look up from the floor. Peter's words sounded well thought and accurate. The Judaic High Council as well as the Roman Governor would not tolerate any dissent, least of all on the holy week of Passover, when tensions already ran high. If the Sanhedrin and the Romans found a common enemy—
"What of Judas?" James asked, "He hardly ever leaves the Master's side. In fact, where is he now?"
Philip replied, "He sleeps in the adjacent house. We practically bathed him in wine at dinner so as to ensure our privacy at this time."
James wrinkled his brow, fearful at how well planned the conspiracy seemed to be. What choice did he have? He said, "We have always been respected men in our communities: fishermen, masons, or even tax collectors."
Thaddaeus coughed at James's mention of tax collectors, and Matthew shot him a foul look.
James continued, "Perhaps he chose us because we represent the everyman, the man who would not normally take arms against a corrupt religious or political system. Perhaps it is our very natures that made us into worthy disciples. Perhaps the end draws nigh for the Romans and the Sanhedrin. Perhaps we are the ones to usher in a new age of prosperity and peace under the banner of God Almighty, not some puppet entity fed lies by the Caesar and his governors. What say you to that, O Peter the wise! Peter the rock!"
Peter narrowed his eyes. "James, as you were the last to be taken into our fold, your doubt and confusion is expected as well as respected. Know that the enemy in Jerusalem has the men and the arms that we cannot hope to overcome. It will take more than miracles to unseat a Caesar, and the Master seems to think that peace and passive resistance will pave the way for this new age of which you speak. Have you ever seen a man crucified, James?"
The breath caught in James's throat. He hadn't. Peter continued, "My cousin was nailed to the cross for stealing bread from a minor Roman official. Do you know why my cousin stole bread? Because his only child, his daughter, was starving to death! Now she begs for crumbs in the gutters!"
James bent his head in sorrow. Peter continued still, "Do you think that these animals will listen to the words of peace and conciliation? Do you think that the Sanhedrin will step in to save us from them just because we are Jewish? We are alone, James. We are the outcasts. We are not the everyman of which you speak. The Master's very presence will cause a disturbance which will intensify into a riot which will intensify into butchery and slaughter. Now is not the time for this. We must bide our time and plan in the interim to treat our enemy the way he would treat us! By the sword!"
Peter unsheathed his sword and drew the blade close to James's face. James didn't jump back or move away. He knew that every word Peter spoke was a word of truth. He didn't know what Jesus had planned for Jerusalem, but it seemed as though they were walking willingly as lambs to slaughter. James drowned in the doubt and succumbed to Peter's reasoning.
He picked up his head. "Of Judas," he said, "We must discuss. He is closest and by far the favorite of the Master. Any plan to desert the Master must involve the desertion of Judas as well."
Peter agreed, "Yes, yes! This has been a matter of some debate. What say you we do?"
James bit his lip, suddenly disgusted at Peter's eagerness. He went on, "We betray the Master to the elders at the appointed time. When they come to arrest him, we all blame Judas for the betrayal. We must be united in our belief and in our reports and writings forever afterward."
"Yes," hissed Bartholomew, "Let the fate of the dog be the fate of the Master!"
As the disciples chatted excitedly amongst themselves, James pictured the face of Judas Iscariot. Judas was by far the most sensitive of them all and the one who seemed most enamored with the teachings of Jesus. James imagined Judas's horror and how he would feel upon being falsely accused of the last crime he would ever possibly commit. James remembered hearing Judas say that he'd gladly exchange his life for that of the Master. James saw the tears of Judas, and those tears became his own.
"God help me!" he beat his breast and sank to the floor, tears pouring from his eyes, "What am I to do? Oh God help me!"
The disciples stopped talking and looked at the prostate man at Peter's feet. Instead of yelling or flashing his sword as he was wont to do, Peter knelt tenderly at James's side. "James, we're all afraid. Each one of us knows that this is a singular moment in the history of our people. The Master's words are something new and worthy of note, but to allow his claims and philosophies to destroy our hope for the future is madness. We will all die if we follow him blindly into Jerusalem.
"We are but simple men in times that are not. The question remains: are you with us or are you with Him?" Peter held out his hand in fellowship. James hesitated.
Peter's contagious doubt had gnawed at him steadily. They had each of them wondered what awaited beyond the end of their lives on Earth, and Jesus had given them the answers they had longed to hear. The words of Jesus were beautiful and bewitching, but did they truly come from God? Or from himself?
James looked at the faces of his compatriots. Each seemed so set and sure, and yet each seemed to thinly veil a torrent of uneasiness, confusion, and terror. Was every man among them so sure that they were right? He remembered the first time he had seen the Master, and how the man's very face seemed to inspire compassion, reason, and love above all.
Then James thought of the crucifix.
He took Peter's hand.
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