Journey of the Pearl. A. E. Smith
justly.’ As if the law ever did justice for me! I spit on Roman law!”
“Watch what you say!” Hektor warned. “You’re close to treason. And even a Roman citizen is crucified for treason.”
Falto slapped Hektor across the shoulder. “That’s only for high treason and Lucius doesn’t do anything worse than a fist fight. Besides, we’re the only ones who heard what he said. A cut from the wages of a beneficiarius would insure our silence, don’t you thi. . .”
Lucius leapt to his feet so fast Falto didn’t have a chance to move. The enraged Roman grasped him by the straps of his leather armor and yanked the foolish man to his feet. His fist crashed into Falto’s face, knocking him to the ground. Fortunately for Falto, Lucius was still recovering from a previously broken arm and dislocated shoulder. If he had used his uninjured arm, Falto’s jaw would have been broken.
“Don’t you ever threaten to blackmail me again or I’ll kill you!” His pale eyes gleamed with malice as his lips curled back from his teeth.
Adas spun around and saw Falto sprawled on the ground. “What do you think you’re doing?” Lucius faced the centurion but said nothing. “You two are disgraceful!” He tossed Falto’s wineskin at him. “Wash the blood off your face.”
“There’s a waste of good wine,” Lucius muttered.
“Did you say something, Octavean?”
“No, Sir!” Lucius lowered his eyes.
Adas stalked away and sat down. He dropped his head to his fingertips and massaged his temples. He looked up at the tortured men on the crosses and his annoyance ebbed in the face of their agony. Shaking his head, Adas wondered why the Nazarene had been condemned to this misery since Pilate found him innocent of any crimes. Perhaps, the silk merchant was right to call it murder. Adas looked at the followers of Yeshua. The thought of Dulcibella or his own mother being forced to witness such a thing sickened him. He scrutinized the mysteriously darkened sun and wondered if the man on the center cross could be divine after all, but he immediately dismissed the idea. Adas knew about the Hebrew God, but how could Elohim allow a part of himself to be treated like the worst of the lowest criminals.
When Adas was a child, his nanny, Misha, told him stories about God, the Father of all creation. Misha said, “God loves humanity, but demands obedience and he will punish those who refuse to obey him. You can ask for forgiveness from God, but an animal which is innocent of all sin, must be sacrificed. There can be no forgiveness without the shedding of innocent blood.”
“That’s terrible!” six-year-old Adas cried. “They’ve done nothing wrong?”
“It is for that very reason,” Misha answered. “Anyone can take the punishment for a convicted criminal, if he is innocent of the crime. That is the law. But only someone who is pure and innocent can stand in for all sin. However, only animals are sacrificed, never children, no matter how innocent they are, for God strictly forbids passing any child through the fire. The pagans practice foundation sacrifices—killing their own children to bury them in the foundation of a new home or a city wall. That is terrible.”
Young Adas then asked his mother about the Roman gods. Marsetina answered, “The Romans and Greeks worship gods and goddesses who take pleasure in making humanity suffer. Their religion gives those ‘worshipers’ an excuse to do the same thing—for pleasure or greed. If you want to know the mind and heart of a people, look at what or who they worship. There are people who form a lump of clay into a figure, call it by a name, and bow down to it. They are mindless fools. They plead with hunks of marble or casts of bronze and expect miracles. They are too stupid to see the futility of praying to their own designs.”
“So if there are no gods,” Adas asked, “what made the world and everything in it?”
Marsetina shrugged. “If the gods exist, who made them?”
“Misha says there is only one God. Don’t you believe her?”
“Misha has great wisdom, but I do not share her belief. She worships a God who cannot be seen. Her faith exceeds her logic.”
“What is faith and logic?”
“Faith is when you believe something before it happens. Logic is when you believe something because it has already happened.”
“Then, I have both logic and faith,” said Adas, pleased with himself, “because I believe you and Father will love me tomorrow as much as you loved me yesterday.”
Marsetina kissed her child’s forehead and smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “You are right, we will always love you. But a parent’s love can die.”
“How can love die? Your mother and father always loved you, didn’t they?” She left the room without answering. Adas was sorry for asking the question.
Young Adas asked his father about the gods. “Son, you have to make your own way and take responsibility. Divine intervention is not going to save or ruin you. You must be the master of your own life. Let experience be your guide, not the mutterings of soothsayers for hire.”
Forcing himself back to the present, Adas retrieved his wineskin and some bread from his knapsack. As he ate, he could hear Demas struggling to talk to the Nazarene. At first the robbers baited Yeshua challenging him to prove himself. But now Demas was listening to Yeshua and his anger dissolved. The two talked as best they could as Adas listened, increasingly fascinated. He wondered how the Nazarene had the strength to talk so calmly and at such length.
He heard the thief say, “Then you are the final blood sacrifice, Yeshua. Why didn’t I understand this before?”
The other criminal was listening, too. He spit words from his mouth as if they were sawdust, “If you are the Christ, save yourself and us!”
Demas called out, “Do you not even fear God, seeing you are under the same condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this Man has done nothing wrong. Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”
Yeshua answered, “Today you will be with Me in paradise.”
Adas was astonished at the audacity of the Nazarene’s statement. He studied the sign posted above his head: Jesus of Nazareth—the King of the Jews. There was no chance he could misunderstand the message since it was written in Hebrew, Latin and Greek. He thought of the stories of this man healing sick and crippled people, and bringing the dead back to life. At the time, he thought it was exaggeration. But what if it were true? What if the Nazarene was divine? But if so, how could he allow himself to be crucified, the most degrading form of execution?
Yeshua spoke to one of the women and to the only man in the group of grieving followers. She turned to the man and cried, her head sagging against his shoulder, her hands covering her face.
Suddenly Yeshua lifted his head and cried out, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”
Jamin knew he was quoting from the Book of Psalms. He often recited these same verses after his family was murdered. “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? Why are You so far from saving Me, so far from the words of My groaning? I am poured out like water, and all My bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted away within Me. . . .a band of evil men has encircled Me, they have pierced My hands and My feet.. . .people stare and gloat over Me. They divide My garments among them and cast lots for My clothing.” Jamin realized everything in this Psalm, written hundreds of years ago, was happening to Yeshua.
Yeshua cried out, “I thirst!” Adas dipped the sponge into a jar of wine vinegar. When he raised the sponge on a stick, Yeshua looked him directly in the eye. The centurion blinked in surprise at the intensity of the man’s expression.
A few observers cried out, “Let Him alone; let us see if Elijah will come to save Him.” Adas ignored them and concentrated on holding the stick as steadily as he could.
When Yeshua received the drink, he announced in a loud, clear voice, “Father, into Your hands I commit