"It's late Joshua. I let you sleep in."
"But Mother, I must get to the temple to get to work. I will miss the people from the small villages who come early into market and the temple. I them heard yesterday; many of them came in before the Sabbath." Joshua pushed aside his sleeping robe and ran fingers through his hair.
"I'm sorry, but you tossed all night. I thought you would need the extra sleep. I saved you some breakfast; hurry up and quit complaining." Naomi poured some water for her son, her only child, and went to get his breakfast.
"All right, but I will be short this week!"
"Don't worry about that. With all the village people in Jerusalem, your father will sell more pots this week. They love the detail of his work."
"I suppose Eleazar has already been by."
"Yes." She placed some bread and fruit on a plate in front of her son.
"Then how am I supposed to get to the temple. I can handle the neighborhood by myself but..."
"Quit worrying; someone will be going. Now eat!"
Joshua wolfed down three handfuls of figs and two small barley cakes before he stopped to wash it all down with some water, drawn fresh that morning from the well. The water always tasted better in the morning when it was fresh. Sitting all day, even next to the cool stone walls of the house did not help the taste of anything, except the figs.
"You will never sleep late again in my house." Laughter peeked out from behind the harsh sound of her words. "You ate that so fast it will make you sick all day."
"Oh, Mother! Now who is in the street to take me to the temple?" Joshua was glad to hear at least the hint of laughter in his mother's weary voice.
"I only see Sar... Simon Bar Samuel"
"Simon Bar Samuel smells like the tanner he is. I only know one person who smells like the Passover rain." Joshua turned from his mother to face the street. "Sari, are you going to the temple? I need someone to take me."
"Joshua, how dare you." The laughter completely drained from her voice, Naomi spoke in a horse whisper. "I have no intention of you hurting that girl any more than you already do."
"Mother, she doesn't mind. We talk some times, away from here, and I have to get to the temple."
"Oh all right, but don't let your father know I said it was okay."
"Yes, Mother." A quick hug assured her son she was not overly upset. Practiced feet easily found their way to the door and down to the street. A practiced nose guided him in Sari's direction, and a practiced heart let him know when he had reached his goal.
"How do you always know exactly where I am?"
"Oh, I just follow my feet and my nose."
"Your nose! Do I smell so badly that you can find me with your nose?"
"No, of course not. You smell so,... You smell like... " If I say the Passover rain, she will think that I am trying to... "You smell so much like you. Thanks for taking me. What takes you down to the temple at this time of day? I overslept or I would have been there hours ago."
"Haven't you heard about the rabbi from Galilee? I want to go see him. They say his eyes shine with a love deeper than the sea. I wanted to see for myself."
I wonder if he is my uncle's miracle teacher. "Is he the one who does
miracles."
"I think so; have you heard of him."
"My father spoke of a teacher from Galilee. My uncle is always coming up with a new prophet. He followed the Baptist until they beheaded him. So much for Uncle's prophets. I have profits of my own to worry about." This said, Joshua did not add any new fuel to the conversation the rest of the walk to the temple. Sari didn't know what to say. They finally reached the temple area after an uncomfortable silence.
"Oh, go ahead and sit all day in front of the temple. I want to hear him at least."
"Well, thanks for bringing me here. I'm sorry I sounded upset, but I've no time for prophets and messiahs. I have things to do. I hope you find what you are looking for." Joshua sat in front of the temple the rest of the day. Each time he heard footsteps, he listened for a familiar pattern. He knew how much to expect from each of his regular customers. He knew what seasons he could expect more from the farmers, or the vine keepers, or the carpenters, or any one of the local businessmen. He knew how much he would get if the weather were bad, or if another beggar were nearby. Even his few years of sitting had told him a lot about people and their ideas. He enjoyed listening to the teachers and the law keepers argue over the minor points of the law. He knew all of the voices and who would win. In the middle of one argument, he heard a new voice, one which spoke with authority. Then he smelled the fresh scent of a Passover rain. Was this new voice the voice of Sari's Galilean? What are they talking about?
"Master, tell us. Why was this man born blind? Was it his own sin or his parents'?"
"I tell you it was neither. But, that the power of God might be made manifest, while it is still day, we must do the work of him who sent me."
Joshua heard the sound of a man spitting on the ground, then a voice that echoed all the power and authority of the highest of priests and sounded a new deeper element of love spoke to him.
"My son, go to the Pool of Siloam and wash this mud from your eyes."
I don't understand what is happening. First, they talk about my blindness, and then this man puts mud on my eyes. He must know what he's doing. His voice has none of the anger of the other teachers. He sounds like he really means what he says. How can I find the Pool from here? There must be ...
"Joshua, take my hand. I'll lead you to the pool."
"Sari! I thought you were near. Who is this man? What is going on?"
"Lower your voice. I'll tell you on the way." They passed out of the market place protected from the curious onlookers by a shell of quiet and promise only a few people in all of time could understand. "His name is Jesus. He comes from Galilee; some people say that he is a prophet. I don't know who he is, but I know I have never heard anyone speak with that kind of love and power. Come on let's hurry!"
"Sari, do you think that he means to ... I mean when I wash off the mud, you think that... Well, is it possible that..."
"Joshua, will you ever learn to just be quiet. Here is the pool; let me help you."
"No, I better do this myself." I must do what he asked me. So many promises are in my hands, in his hands. I know what I want to happen, but if I leave the mud on my eyes, I won't have to face his being just another one of so many. My father has had every teacher, healer, and seer from here to Samaria stop in our home, and this man, this Jesus -- was that his name -- comes to me off the street, spits in the mud, and tells me to wash in a pool. He didn't say anything about my eyes or seeing or anything, just "go and wash in the pool." I suppose some Pharisee will see me and say that I am working on the Sabbath. What's the difference if I wash my face at home or at the pool? He would put coins in my basket on the Sabbath and not curse me for working on the Lord's Day. What does he think I do for a living? Make tents? I guess I'd rather disappoint this Jesus than the Pharisees. Joshua's mind, reeling in those few moments it took him to bend over, finally let him reach out for the cool water of the pool. The clay was already dried at the edges from the late afternoon sun. Joshua scrubbed the last of the clay from his face, stalling for any extra moment not wanting to face the failure of another unmet promise, not wanting to face the explosion in his mind, the colors he had only sensed and heard of for so many years. Most of all he waited, wondering what the gentle curves of Sari's face would tell his eyes that his fingers had not seen. Finally the last drop of water was gone; he had no mores excuses.
For the first few sight-filled blinks, Joshua's mind could not organize itself enough to think. Words then leapt from his mouth. "Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One." For the next few sight-filled moments, he could not get any more words past the shock to his senses.
"Joshua, what's the matter?" Sari's mind raced to the possibilities. He simply stares out into space. He shouts praise to God and then is struck dumb. Has he gained his eyes only to lose his voice? What kind of man would play such a cruel trick on a poor beggar? I must find him. I must tell him what he has...
"Sari, where are you going!? You must help me find the rabbi. I only know his voice. You know his face."
"Joshua, you can talk. You can see, too." Her words may have been cut short by the sudden embrace of the man she had only hoped to love across an impossible abyss, but her mind continued, her consciousness almost washed overboard by the flood of unreachable promises suddenly jumping out to embrace her.
Minutes passed and they shared the first precious scenes together, retracing their steps back to the temple. Days passed and Joshua was brought before the Pharisees and questioned. When he gave them the simple answers of a simple man,"this man must be a prophet of God! Don't you know only God could open a man's blind eyes", their pride and misunderstanding threw the poor confused man out of the temple. Weeks passed and he went from shop to shop trying to find a master anything who would take on a man as an apprentice.
"Unheard of" they said.
"I wish I could, but...."
Finally, "If you would like to try, come back in the morning, it's late tonight..." were the words that finally gave him hope.
© 1998 Laughing Wind Production Company. All rights reserved.© 1998 Laughing Wind Production Company. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
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Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five