The Redeemer (13 page)
Vendors of all kinds were out early to sell their wares. When we got near a tax collection booth, Peter lowered his head and urged Jesus to keep walking right past.
“Why the hurry, Peter?” Jesus asked as He turned around to go back. “You filed on time, didn’t you?”
Jesus went over to the booth and stood there a minute watching the man counting out money. When he became aware that Jesus was watching him, he pulled the coins closer to himself.
“What are You staring at? What do You want?”
“You’re Levi, aren’t you?”
The man nodded.
“How do you like your job?”
“Fine,” he said as he stuffed the coins into his pocket. “I like it fine.”
“You don’t look fulfilled to Me. Why don’t you come along and follow Me?”
“I don’t think so.” The man gathered the rest of the money and stuffed it in a bag.
Peter and John encouraged Jesus to move along.
“It’s not a good idea to get too friendly with people like him,” Peter said.
“Behind on your taxes, Peter?”
“They make it impossible for small business owners to get ahead.”
“Render unto Caesar, Peter, and you’ll sleep better.”
“If You knew anything about a tax man, You’d never invite one to join us. They’re all thieves and traitors. They work for the Romans and rob their own people.”
“I think this one has potential,” Jesus said.
“Peter’s right,” I said. “A tax collector wouldn’t be at all interested in a ministry vocation.”
Right then the man folded up his table and came running after Jesus.
“Master, wait. Let me prepare a banquet for You and Your men at my home tonight. All my friends will come.”
“No thanks. He’s on a schedule. We couldn’t possibly—” Peter answered.
“We’ll be there,” Jesus interrupted, ignoring Peter’s protests.
Later that evening we found ourselves in the upscale neighborhood where Levi lived.
“Come in, Jesus—You and Your friends. I want You to meet some people.” Levi took Jesus by the arm and escorted Him from one person to the next. “This is Jesus, the man I told you about.”
“Welcome, Jesus.”
“I think I’ve heard of You,” said a fat man. “Winemaking business, am I right?”
“No, you’re not right,” his wife said. “He’s in the medical field. Everyone’s heard about the healings. So glad you came.”
“Happy to be here at my friend’s house and to meet all of you,” Jesus said as He put His arm around Levi’s shoulders.
Levi beamed. When he and Jesus moved on to the next guest, Jesus whispered something in his ear.
“By the way, I’m changing your name to Matthew. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
“But why?”
“I don’t want people to mistake you for a priest.”
“Whatever You say, Master.”
I looked around the room and was confused at the cadre Matthew, formerly known as Levi, had for friends. The room was full of people with questionable vocations and reputations.
“Who did you expect the friends of a tax collector would be?” James said under his breath to Peter.
“I don’t know, but if it gets out that Jesus was partying with these kinds of people, it’s sure to stir up those old speculations about His pedigree.”
One of you boys should explain to Him how humans are judged by the company they keep. He hasn’t been a human long enough to have learned all the social nuances.
But when Peter, James, and John saw how relaxed Jesus was, Peter shrugged his shoulders and headed straight to the lavish buffet of rich food and wine. The other two were close behind. As we worked our way through the crowd, I spotted the Pharisees and teachers of the Law standing in a corner by themselves, frowning at everybody and not having so much as an hors d’oeuvre.
Who invited them? Matthew must tithe at the synagogue, or else they wouldn’t be caught dead with these people. I bet they didn’t know Jesus was coming.
With a piece of cheese and a goblet of wine in hand, Peter went over to make conversation with the priests.
“Quite a spread, I’d say.”
“It’s a scandal. Look at Him eating with the tax collectors and sinners.”
“What can I tell you?” Peter said between bites. “He gets along with all kinds of people, never turns down a dinner invitation or a party.”
“Why does He lower Himself to come into the house of a tax robber?”
“Why did you?”
The elder’s face turned red as he sputtered a response.
“Why, it’s our responsibility; we heard He would be here. It’s our job to guard against heretics and the like.”
“I’ll let Him know you disapprove.” Peter walked over to the low table and sat down on the floor beside Jesus.
“The teachers of Israel don’t like it that You’re so friendly with the riffraff. They say it isn’t proper.”
Jesus got up and went over to the Pharisees. “Have you also come to preach good news to the people?” He smiled at them.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the elder said. “These people are sinners. They call you a rabbi. You disgrace the name of God by Your antics.”
“It is not the sinless who need to know God’s love. It’s those who’ve been rejected by people like you. Since you won’t do it, I’ve come to show them how God feels about them.”
“Is that what You’re doing?” the priest scoffed. “John is in prison, and his disciples are out in the desert fasting and praying; so are the disciples of the Pharisees. Just look at You and Your friends behaving like it’s one big party.”
“Perhaps you’re in the wrong house if you thought you were going to a funeral.” Jesus looked over at John and James, who were helping themselves to another serving of goat cheese and flatbread. “This
is
a party. They will fast when the time comes.”
Then He went on to talk to them about wineskins, but they weren’t interested. The Pharisees came looking to be offended by Jesus. Having succeeded, they left in a huff.
I left also; it was time to give Satan an update.
W
HAT’S THE COMMOTION?
” I asked the guard as he checked his list to see if I could get in to see Satan right away.
“Go on in.”
“It sounds like he has company. Maybe I should wait out here.”
“Doesn’t matter; it’s bedlam in there.” The guard cocked his head toward the door. “One more or less won’t be noticed.”
“Is he having a party?”
“Try rebellion. They’re all in there—Baal, Asherah, Tammuz, Mammon, Molech—all the big names. It’s no party; more like a mutiny.”
I made my way through the crowded foyer toward the inner sanctum. Inside were all the ranking demon gods huddled together in front of the throne. Satan was stomping back and forth, breathing fire, as the first line of demons knelt trembling in front of him. I didn’t know what it was about, but I knew how they felt.
“Do you dare refuse an order?” Satan bellowed as he loomed over Baal, who kowtowed even lower before him.
“N–no, sire. I would, that is, we—none of us would ever defy you.”
“Then get back to the earth and do your job.” He drew back his claw hand as if he was about to slap Baal when Molech interrupted.
“We can’t do it, sir, not as long as Adonai is on the earth. It would be suicide.”
Satan howled, and the rafters shook at his rage. I ducked down and began backing up, hoping I could ease out before he knew I was there. I almost made it. Then I stepped on the tail of one of the demons from Cana. He whirled around and grabbed me by the neck, lifting me above the crowds.
“Put him down,” Satan ordered as the demon threw me to the ground.
“Let him through.”
The crowd parted, and I crawled to the front, not standing up so as not to appear to be challenging anyone.
“Stand at attention when I talk to you,” Satan growled at me.
“Yes, sir.” I stood up but kept my wings down in a signal of submission to anyone who might mistake me as a threat—though no one ever had.
“Tell them where you’ve been,” he snarled.
“Uh, well, I’ve been on assignment—on the earth, just like you ordered me.”
“And tell them who you’ve been with.”
I wasn’t sure what he was asking, and my face showed it.
“Imbecile! Tell them who you’ve been tracking.”
“Oh, of course. Jesus. I’ve been following Jesus.”
There was a general gasp among the demons. Satan took a menacing step toward them as he continued questioning me.
“And were you afraid of Jesus?”
“Oh my, no. Not in the least.” I was relieved. I thought he was going to ask me a trick question. There was another gasp from the onlookers. Satan spun around and looked me in the eye.
“What shall I do with these cowards—these deserters?”
“Sir?”
“These crybabies who refuse to return to their posts because Jesus is,” he grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face down in mock fear, “so scary.” Then he laughed. “What shall I do with them?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, sir.”
“Come on now. Here’s your chance. How long have they ridiculed you, made you the butt of every joke, even tried to annihilate you if it hadn’t been for me? Take your revenge. I’ll destroy them any way you say.” He rubbed his claw hands together as if savoring a massacre.
I looked at the cowering demon gods who looked back at me with hatred in their eyes. I hadn’t been afraid of Jesus, but I was scared to death of them. Finally, Baal spoke.
“If he’s really been with Jesus, he’ll corroborate our story.”
I will?
“Ask him, Your Evilness. Make him tell you how it is.”
Satan looked at them then at me.
“They tell me they can’t hold the territory. The spirits they’ve assigned to inhabit humans can’t remain when Jesus comes near.”
Baal interrupted. “Jesus rips the spirits from the human bodies; no one could withstand His brute power.”
“Is that how it is?” Satan asked me.
I know my eyes darted back and forth like a Ping-Pong ball from Satan to Baal as I wondered which would be a worse way to die. My voice cracked as I spoke.
“That’s almost how it is, sir. Except for the ripping out part, which, as you know, technically speaking, Jesus is not allowed to do. Otherwise He invokes His power and violates the everything-doneby-humans clause, so that isn’t how He gets them out.” I paused, wondering if I’d said too little or too much.
“Tell me how He does it, moron.” Satan stomped his hoof on the granite so hard it created sparks.
Definitely too little.
“He pretty much just tells them to come out, and they do.”
Satan roared in frustration then sat down on his throne.
“He speaks to them, and they run like cowards?”
I nodded.
Baal, still crouched in fear, stood up and took a few halting steps toward the angry devil.
“We can still do it, sir. There’s another way. We can help you kill Him.”
I know my eyes showed every bit of the horror I felt.
“How?” Satan asked.
“We can’t be near Jesus, but we can find a human surrogate, someone who will do what we want. We just have to be clever about it.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself. I asked you how.”
Baal glanced my way and leaned into Satan’s ear. He whispered, but I heard every word.
“Not in front of him. He’s been compromised.”
“Forget it,” Satan dismissed Baal’s accusation with a laugh. “He’s a constant state of compromise; no grit. That’s why he’ll always be a failure. He’s a mule for me, does whatever I tell him with no questions. And besides,” he leered at me, “he would never dare betray me. Isn’t that right, moron?”
“Perish the thought, Your Majesty.”
A
LL THE WAY
back to the earth I kept thinking about what Baal had said. He would find a human surrogate willing to harm Jesus. It didn’t make any sense. It would have to be someone who didn’t like Him, and who could that be? What was there not to like about Jesus?
When I caught up to Him I saw big changes had occurred while I was gone. His circle of disciples had grown from three to twelve: Peter’s brother Andrew; Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew; another James, who was the son of Alphaeus; Thaddaeus; Simon the zealot; and Judas Iscariot. I wished Jesus hadn’t committed to them before I could run a background check on each one. They looked harmless enough and appeared to be devoted to Him. Still, His chain of friends would only be as strong as the weakest link. If there was one, I was determined to find him before Baal did.
I soon learned how busy Jesus had been while I was away. Everyone was talking about the miracles, especially healing the chronically ill. Not to mention raising the dead; that was always a crowd pleaser, as I’d predicted earlier would be the case. When I heard someone mention John the Baptist, I remembered that I hadn’t followed up on John since He baptized Jesus and me.
I forgot all about him. It would be a mistake to minimize John’s potential. He could be a real asset to Jesus if he’s willing to work on his first-impression skills.
I took off at once in search of John. I was surprised to find him still in prison. I thought he would have been released by now. They kept him in a small cell with a barred window to the outside. Three of his disciples were there talking to him through the bars.
“Tell me about Jesus,” John asked eagerly. “What’s He been doing?”
“Nothing like you think,” answered the youngest one.
“Be quiet,” scolded the oldest.
“Well, it’s true,” the middleman chimed in. “Answer his question. Tell John what Jesus has been doing.”
Perplexity was all over John’s face as the oldest moved away from the window, lowered his head, and kicked a small rock with his sandaled foot.
“Has He confronted the Romans yet?” John asked.
“Yes, He most assuredly has, rabbi.”
“But not like you think.” The young one couldn’t be restrained. “Tell him how Jesus confronted them.”
“Can you give me a minute?” The oldest was becoming annoyed. “Jesus healed the servant of a Roman centurion.”
