He awoke with a jolt, drenched in sweat. Around him the disciples were stretched out, snoring. Outside in the yard the cock crowed. Peter heard it and half opened his eyes. He saw Jesus standing up.
“Rabbi,” he said, “when the cock crowed, I was dreaming. You seemed to have taken two crossed boards. In your hands they became a lyre and bow, and you were playing and singing. The wild beasts assembled from the ends of the earth to hear you… What does it mean? I’ll ask the old rabbi.”
“The dream does not end there, Peter,” Jesus answered. “Why were you in such a hurry to wake up? The dream continues further.”
“Further? I don’t understand. Maybe you dreamed it yourself, Rabbi-all of it?”
“When the beasts heard the song they rushed forward and devoured the singer.”
Peter’s eyes popped. His heart had a presentiment of the meaning, but his mind stood still. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“You will understand,” Jesus replied, “on another morning when you again hear the cock crow.”
He nudged the companions one by one with his foot. “Wake up, lazy bones,” he said. “We have much to do today.”
“Are we leaving?” Philip asked, rubbing his eyes. “I say we should return to Galilee, to safety.”
Judas ground his teeth but did not speak.
In the inner room the women awoke and began to chatter. Old Salome came out to light the fire. The disciples had already gathered in the yard. They were waiting for Jesus, who was bent over the rabbi, talking to him in a low voice. The old man, gravely ill, was bed-ridden in the back corner of the house.
“Where are you going now, my child?” the rabbi asked. “Where are you leading your army? Once more to Jerusalem? Will you again lift your hand to pull down the Temple? As you know, the word becomes act when it issues from a great soul-and yours is a great soul. You are liable for what you say. If you declare the Temple will be destroyed, one day it will indeed be destroyed. So, measure your words!”
“I do, Father. The whole world is in my mind when I speak. I choose what will stay and what will not. I take the responsibility upon myself.”
“Oh, if I could only keep alive long enough to see who you are! But I’m old. The world has become a phantasm which roams around my head and wants to enter. But all the doors are blocked.”
“Try to last a few days longer, Father. Until the Passover. Hold on to your fleeing soul for dear life, and you shall see. The hour has not yet come.”
The rabbi shook his head. “When will that hour come?” he complained. “Has God deceived me? What happened to his promise? I’m dying, I’m dying, and where is the Messiah?” He clutched Jesus’ shoulders with all the strength which remained to him.
“Last until the Passover, Father. You’ll see that God keeps his word!” Jesus extricated himself from the old man’s grip and went out into the yard.
“Nathanael,” he said, “and you, Philip: go to the end of the village, to the very last house. There you’ll find a donkey and her colt tied to the door hasp. Untie her and bring her here. If anyone asks you where you’re taking her, answer, ‘The rabbi needs her and we’ll bring her back again.’ ”
“We’re going to get ourselves into trouble,” Nathanael whispered to his friend.
“Let’s go,” Philip said. “Do what he tells you, come what may!”
Matthew had taken up his pen first thing in the morning and was all eyes and ears. God of Israel, he reflected, look how the whole structure is just as the prophets, with divine illumination, assembled it! What does the prophet Zacharias say? ‘Rejoice and exult, daughter of Zion, shout for joy, daughter of Jerusalem. Look, your king comes to find you, humble and mounted on an ass-though he is a conqueror!’ ”
“Rabbi,” Matthew said to test the master, “it appears you’re tired and can’t go to Jerusalem on foot.”
“No, I’m not tired,” Jesus replied. “Why do you ask? I suddenly had a desire to ride there.”
“You should ride on a white horse!” Peter interrupted. “You’re the king of Israel, aren’t you? So, you must enter your capital on a white horse.”
Jesus threw a hurried glance at Judas and did not answer.
In the meantime Magdalene had come out and placed herself in the doorway. There were bags under her eyes, for she had not slept the whole night. Leaning against the doorpost, she regarded Jesus, regarded him deeply, inconsolably, as though taking leave of him forever. She wanted to tell him not to go, but her throat seemed blocked. Matthew saw her open and close her mouth without being able to sound a word, and he understood. The prophets do not allow her to speak, he reflected. They do not allow her to hinder the rabbi from accomplishing what they prophesied. He will mount the ass and go to Jerusalem whether Magdalene wants it or not, whether he himself wants it or not. It is written!
At that moment Philip and Nathanael arrived, happily pulling behind them, on one rope, the mother with her saddleless foal. “It turned out just as you said, Rabbi,” exclaimed Philip. “Mount now, and let’s go.”
Jesus turned to look at the house. The women stood and watched with crossed hands, sad but mute. Old Salome and the two sisters, with Magdalene in front…
“Is there a whip in the house, Martha?” Jesus asked.
“No, Rabbi,” Martha replied. “There is only our brother’s ox-goad.”
“Give it to me.”
The disciples had laid their clothes upon the docile animal to make a soft seat for the teacher, and on top of these Magdalene threw a red blanket of her own weaving, decorated along the edges with small black cypresses.
“Are you all ready?” Jesus asked. “Is everyone in good heart?”
“Yes,” answered Peter, who went in front. Holding the animal’s rein, he led the way.
The Bethanites heard the group pass and opened their doors.
“Where are you off to, lads? Why is the prophet riding today?”
The disciples leaned over and confided the secret to them. “He’s off today to sit on his throne.”
“What throne, fellow?
“Shh, it’s a secret. The man you see before you is the king of Israel.”
“Really! Let’s go with him,” shouted the young women, and more and more people swarmed around.
The children cut palm branches and went in front, happily chanting, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” The men took off their coats and spread them along the road for him to pass over. How they ran! What a spring this was! How tall the flowers had grown this year; how the birds sang and flew behind the procession, toward Jerusalem!
Jacob leaned over to his brother. “Our mother spoke to him yesterday. She said he should seat us to his left and right now that he’s going to mount the throne of glory. But he didn’t answer her. Maybe he got angry. She said his face seemed to darken.”
“Of course he got angry,” John replied. “She shouldn’t have done it.”
“What then? Should he leave us as we are and-who knows?-give precedence to Judas Iscariot? Did you notice how all these days the two of them have been talking secretly together? They seem inseparable. Be careful, John. Go and speak to him your self so we don’t suffer any loss. The hour has come for the division of the honors.”
But John shook his head. “My brother,” he said, “look how afflicted he is. It’s as though he were going to his death.”
I would like to know what is destined to happen now, thought Matthew as he marched by himself behind the others. The prophets don’t explain it very well. Some say the throne, others death. Which one of the two prophecies will he untangle? No one can interpret a prophecy except after the event. It’s only then that we understand what the prophet meant. So, let’s be patient and wait and see what happens-just to be sure. We’ll write it all down tonight when we return.
By this time the good news had taken wing and reached the near-by villages and the huts scattered throughout the olive groves and vineyards. The peasants ran from every direction and placed their cloaks or kerchiefs on the ground for the prophet to pass over. There were also many of the lame, the sick, and the ragged. From time to time Jesus turned his head and looked behind him at his army. Suddenly he felt an immense loneliness. He turned and cried, “Judas!” but the unsociable disciple was at the very end and did not hear.