The Making of the Lamb Read online

  Daniel

  Daniel looked up, wide-eyed, when his father returned. “You’re back early, Papa.”

  “Yes, we have some extra time, so let’s go refresh ourselves in the bathhouse.” He clapped Jesus on the shoulder.

  As any good Jew would, they bypassed the pagan temple at the entrance to the bathhouse where the other patrons paid their obeisance. Nevertheless, Papa was compelled to point it out. “It is hard to keep our laws when we travel among the pagans. They decorate all their buildings with idolatrous statues and images, and you cannot avoid them if you want to carry on any business with the Romans. Even though both buildings bear pagan decorations, the one over there is the temple we should avoid. This, for all its trappings, is just a bathhouse.”

  Daniel had seen this bathhouse and others like it during his travels with Papa across the Empire, but still he was awed by the magnificence of the arched spaces and the colorful mosaics. Even the furnaces that heated the water were marvels of engineering. This facility was available to all citizens of Rome passing through the city.

  Jesus appeared unimpressed. “I see what you mean,” he said, once they entered the hot room. “It would be easy to think we’re in one of their temples, but it’s really nothing more than Septurius has in his home. This is just a big public facility on a much grander scale.”

  Papa wandered off with another trader he happened to recognize through the steam, and Daniel turned his attention to his cousin, already relaxing under the hands of the masseur slave. Not wanting a massage himself, Daniel picked a spot on the side of the pool where he could relax in the warmth of the waters and still talk to Jesus.

  Back in Arelate he said he saw himself as the savior of Israel. Does that mean he will claim David’s throne?

  “Will you bring luxury such as this to Jerusalem when you take your kingdom?” Daniel posed the question in Aramaic so the slave would not understand.

  “I do not know. I can only tell you that I must carry out my Father’s will. He favors the nation of Israel as his chosen people, but I don’t know whether that means our wealth and power in this world must rival that of the Romans. All this luxury makes the Romans soft. They see themselves as invincible, but I see all this being swept away. Remember how King Solomon fell from the grace of God when sinful luxury entranced him. That will not happen to me.”

  “I wonder if you will be God’s instrument to destroy the Romans. They are not all bad. They swept the sea of pirates and they give merchants like Papa protection.”

  “Israel will trade and prosper just as it did before the Romans. I am called to be God’s instrument to free God’s people and restore the house of David to its throne. It follows that the power of the Romans over our people must end, and Israel must be ready to pay a bloody price. I do not know what it will take to remove the Romans as a threat to Israel. The Messiah also is called in prophecy to be a light unto the gentiles, so maybe they too will see the way of God and live in peace with Israel before it is too late for them. If not, God will destroy them, and as his son I am prepared to be his instrument if he calls me to that task.” Jesus waved off the masseur and entered the hot pool.

  His vision of his Messianic destiny was not so different from what he had described in Arelate, but his tone was more certain. He is so graceful and gentle. How can this boy believe he can brush away the world’s greatest empire like dirt from his sandals? He’s right that Israel needs its freedom; Roman protection comes with too many chains. Daniel recalled his vision that day in Nazareth that brought him to his knees at Jesus’s feet. If Jesus is the Son of God as he has said, then anything is possible.

  Papa summoned them to the cold pool. The quick dip in the cold water closed the pores of their skin and refreshed them. Outwardly, Daniel felt renewed, but inwardly he felt a growing sadness as the time came for them to begin the day’s business. It did not take long to dry off and dress. They left together and joined the gathering crowd.

  The scourging took place sometimes in public and sometimes behind the army camp walls. Every stroke of those multiple thongs, each tipped with a metal hook and bound together into a single whip, would generate rivers of blood and rip flesh from bone. Inevitable death did not come easily at the hands of the Romans. He could not imagine what woe would betide the soldier who killed the victim before he suffered the cross.

  Daniel had seen several crucifixions, but the sight of these two victims, already scourged and led out by the soldiers, shocked him. Blood streamed from their wounds, and they seemed eager for the death that would free them from their misery. The crowd jeered and taunted them.

  Jesus had a look of cold determination to see the proceedings through, as Papa had commanded. Daniel remembered how Jesus, only the night before, had seemed to be at peace with the idea that rebellious slaves deserved death—but could Jesus really be the Son of God if he lacked compassion for fellow humans?

  The soldiers forced the victims to hoist the crosspieces on their shoulders and carry them to the place of execution at the top of the Fourviere. The crowd followed, continuing to mock the condemned men. Slowly they moved. Whippings from the soldiers made the victims stumble. Clearly, the condemned would never make it up the hill encumbered with the weight of their crosses. Wanting to get on with their business, the officers conscripted two men to carry the crosses while the soldiers dragged the victims ahead. Daniel and Papa walked on either side of Jesus. They glanced frequently at Jesus, but Jesus did not flinch.

  Finally, the procession reached the summit. Several soldiers held the prisoners’ arms outstretched along the crosspieces as another soldier drove massive nails through their wrists. Like many others, Daniel turned away, but Papa held Jesus’s head, forcing him to watch.

  Daniel heard the sound of the hammer on the first nail, and Jesus screamed as if he were in mortal pain. No longer was he steeled to bear the sight. Jesus’s body shook and trembled. He went deathly pale and fainted in Papa’s arms.

  Daniel ran to the soldiers’ pail of hyssop, and they let him dip a rag in it. When he returned, Papa was slapping Jesus’s face, trying to revive him. Quickly, Daniel shoved the rag over Jesus’s nose. The strong vapors of the herb quickly revived him, but then a look of sheer horror came over him. With unnatural strength, Jesus pushed Daniel away.

  Daniel staggered and fell on his rump.

  “Curse you and that filthy rag! What are you doing to me?” Jesus shouted.

  Daniel tossed aside the rag. Why would it hold such terror for Jesus? “Papa, please. He’s seen enough.” It was no use.

  Papa hefted Jesus up. “He must see this for his own good.”

  Both victims had been nailed to the crosspieces. Their arms had been secured with ropes to bear just enough weight to prevent the nails from tearing through the flesh.

  Once again, Papa forced Jesus to watch as the last nails were driven through their feet.

  Jesus shuddered when the soldiers raised the crosses. He sobbed quietly.

  For the crucified, the torment would drag on in a continuing cycle of pain. As the bodies sagged, the weight cut their breath, making them gag. Involuntarily, their legs straightened. This relieved the pressure on their chests, allowing them to breathe, but at the same time more waves of pain wracked their bodies as their full weight bore down on the rusty nails driven through their feet. When it looked as if one of them was about to drift into unconsciousness, the soldiers held up a sponge of hyssop liquor to revive him so he would continue to experience the agonies. Jesus is right about these people. Not even barbarians are so cruel. They do things like this in their coliseums for sport too.

  Daniel looked back and forth between the victims and Jesus. His cousin’s trembling increased. Jesus breathed—and almost gagged—in rhythm with the dying men. No longer a mere observer, Jesus seemed to share their torment.

  “Papa, can’t you see how Jesus suffers now?” exclaimed Daniel. “Is this not enough? Please, please let us take him from this place!”

  Ste
eled to his purpose, Papa ignored Daniel’s entreaties. The day wore on, and the midday sun drained the victims of their remaining strength. Jesus grew calmer, but he was still pale. Tears welled in his eyes, but he still watched, continuing to draw shallow breaths.

  Finally, the captain of the soldiers muttered, “No point in waiting through the night. They won’t survive it. End it now.”

  Yes, better to end this bloody business and ensure the criminals are dead so all can leave.

  One of the soldiers brought forward an axe. He swung it, breaking the legs of the condemned. Unable to support the weight of their chests, they quickly suffocated, drowning in their own blood and phlegm. The soldiers left with the crowd once they determined that the victims were truly dead, but they left the bodies to hang, as food for the crows and as a warning to all.

  Now that it was over, Papa tried to lead Jesus away, but Jesus just stood there pale and transfixed, gazing at the bodies. Papa hefted Jesus over his shoulder and carried the boy down the hill. Jesus lost consciousness on the way.

  Finally, they reached the inn, and Papa settled Jesus in his bed. He remained ghastly pale, though his body burned with fever. Both Daniel and his father stayed at Jesus’s side, draping his body with wet rags to cool his fever and offering up to God the most fervent of prayers.

  Daniel could not bear to look at his father.

  “What have I done?” Papa wailed, patting Jesus’s hand. “Curse my stupidity. But for his own good I had to make Jesus keep watching.”

  At first, Daniel blamed his father, but he kept his silence. Daniel focused himself totally on his prayers for Jesus, occasionally running out to change the wet rags that cooled his cousin’s body. As the night wore on, his anger at his father gave way to compassion.

  “Look, Papa, the fever diminishes. He seems to be resting more comfortably. Get some sleep. I will stay with him and wake you if he gets worse.”

  “I’m so sorry, my son. I should have listened to you. I should have seen how the Romans’ cruelty was affecting him. I don’t know what I will say to Mary and Joseph if we lose him.”

  “We won’t lose him, Papa. God watches over him. Maybe you did the right thing. Maybe Jesus had to see everything. Maybe that was God’s will, and you were his instrument.”

  Papa embraced Daniel, and holding him tightly, he said, “I love you as no man has ever loved a son, and I have come to love Jesus, too. I cannot bear the thought of losing him now.”

  “I know, Papa. I understand. Now get some rest.”

  Daniel awoke late the next morning to find Jesus sleeping comfortably in the bed beside him. He touched his cousin’s forehead, and thankfully, it felt cool. His father was gone, probably about town preparing the next stage of their journey. Daniel got up and went to order food from the innkeeper, fish broth for Jesus and heartier fare for himself.

  When Daniel returned to the room carrying a wooden platter, he found Jesus stirring—still pale and weak, but awake.

  Daniel sat on the side of the bed. Jesus tried to say something, but too softly for Daniel to understand.

  “Shhh! You had a terrible fever, and you’re still weak. Don’t try to talk. Just take some broth. It will help to restore your strength.” Daniel spooned broth to his cousin’s lips.

  At first, Jesus was too weak even to swallow, but the broth gradually revived him. “What happened?” he asked. “The last thing I remember was watching the crucifixion. It seemed to be over. How did I get here?”

  “You collapsed. Papa carried you from the hill, and then you came down with a terrible fever. Papa was afraid we were going to lose you, but I knew that God looks after you, Jesus. I knew he didn’t bring his son into the world just to lose him to a fever.”

  Jesus smiled weakly and reached for his cousin’s hand. “I had a terrible dream. Well, it seems more than just a dream.” Jesus began to cry. “I’m scared, Daniel. For the first time in my life, I’m really scared. Hold me, please.”

  Daniel hesitated. The notion of embracing his cousin felt awkward to him. But Jesus, sobbing, seemed to need the comfort of a human touch. So Daniel put down the broth, took Jesus in his arms, and cradled him like a baby. Time seemed to stand still. Daniel dampened a cloth and wiped the tears from Jesus’s face. “Would it help to tell me about this dream? What scared you so much?”

  “It was more like a vision,” said Jesus. “I saw myself as a man, maybe thirty years old. I was back in Jerusalem, outside the city walls. Your father was there, and so was my mother. They looked older than they do now.” Jesus began to sob again, and once more Daniel cradled him in his arms.

  “What was everyone doing in your dream?” Daniel asked.

  Jesus gripped his cousin hard and whispered in his ear. “It was another crucifixion, but this time it was me. I was the victim condemned to death by the Romans. It was the most horrible thing imaginable. It was even worse than the crucifixion we have just seen. They mocked me. The Romans put up a sign on my cross that said ‘King of the Jews’, and they made me wear a crown of thorns. I even saw them casting lots for my garments.”

  For a moment Daniel was paralyzed with fear, but then he collected his thoughts. “This is just a nightmare, Jesus. You were upset after watching yesterday’s crucifixion.”

  “No, Daniel. I have seen a glimpse of my future, and I can still see it now. It’s more than a nightmare.”

  “Oh, Jesus, be brave. I know that God did not bring you into this world just to die on a cross, but you still must recover your strength. Here, take some more broth, will you? Then get some more rest. I will sing from the Psalms of David as you go to sleep.”

  “Yes, cousin. I will take some more broth now, and then hear the Psalms of David. I must turn to my Father for comfort.”

  So after Daniel had fed the rest of the broth to Jesus, he took up the scroll Papa had left with them to study. For hours he sang, as Jesus awoke and then almost seemed to drift off to sleep. But each time Jesus seemed to have fallen asleep, his eyes sprang open again. Daniel began to feel as though Jesus was searching to hear the right verse before he would allow himself the luxury of rest.

  As the skies darkened, Daniel came across the thirty-fourth psalm. It seemed to bear the testimony of one who narrowly escapes death, and it was among those attributed to David. Daniel looked at Jesus. Was he asleep? His eyes were closed, but Daniel could not be sure. Though he was weary, Daniel began to sing. “I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips.” The psalm continued with praise for the Lord, and it told how the humble would be made glad and how the Lord heard the righteous and delivered them. Daniel continued toward the end of the psalm:

  The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their cry;

  But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil, to blot out their name from the earth.

  The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.

  The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

  The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all;

  He protects all his bones, not one of them will be broken.

  Evil will slay the wicked; the foes of the righteous will be condemned.

  The Lord will rescue—

  Jesus sat up, looking animated. “Stop, that’s it!” he cried.

  Daniel looked at his cousin, puzzled.

  “Don’t you see? They will not break my bones, Daniel. It is not just the psalm. I remember it that way in my vision. I never saw the Romans break my bones. That is the last thing the Romans do to kill their victims. God will hear my cries and deliver me from the cross before they get the chance! Surely, my Father will do that just the way he delivered Daniel from the lions and Jonah from the whale. Oh…won’t it be glorious, Daniel? The Romans will see the power of my Father and the sight will strike them helpless with terror, just as Joshua’s enemies fled in terror from the ark. And
then I shall lead the armies of the righteous and sweep away the tyrants from our shores and restore the house of David to its rightful throne!”

  Daniel’s eyes filled with joyful tears as Jesus drifted off into a sound sleep. He remembered his vision of Jesus that day back in Nazareth, and the divine light he saw glowing within his cousin. Yes, it all made sense now. Jesus was the Son of God. He had to be the promised Messiah who was destined to lead the people of Israel to freedom.

  Once again Daniel felt himself grow weak. He knelt humbly by the side of Jesus’s bed.

  It was late in the evening before Papa returned to the inn. Daniel was waiting up for him, and the two of them went to the common room to get something to eat and talk where they would not disturb Jesus’s sleep.

  “I saw Jesus was resting comfortably when I left this morning,” Papa began. “He seems to be even better now. I knew you would take good care of him.”

  Daniel said nothing at first. Then he smiled. “Yes, Jesus is out of danger. Tell me of your preparations, and then I shall tell you more of Jesus. Do we have a boat to take us north up the River Arar?”

  “We won’t need one,” Papa replied. “We will set out in a different direction. But let me start at the beginning. I was introduced today to a Greek merchant from Massilia. His name is Pirro. We have mutual friends in this city who trust both of us.

  “Pirro has a valuable secret, but by himself he cannot exploit it. His family has suffered along with all the Greeks of Massilia. He has managed to eke out a meager living trading with the British Belgae for iron ore at Yengi. By himself, he cannot mount a proper trading expedition—he doesn’t have the money. So he needs us.”

  “That’s fine. But what can he do for us?” Daniel asked.

  “Ah. That is where his little secret comes in. Do you remember how I told you about the ancient tin route that the Greeks and Phoenicians before them followed to the lost island of Ictis to trade with the Dumnonii tribe directly? My grandfather told me the tale of how he traded with the Britons on the west side of that island, before Julius Caesar conquered the Gauls.”