Will He Come?

I love this time of “near day”; this time as night wanes and a new day settles upon us. And I love this city, the city of our God. I pause in my early morning priestly duties. I move from the storehouses under the Temple buildings to the open area approaching the very Temple itself, and I am surprised at this early hour to find you, a visitor to our troubled city. It was a muggy night and sleep was difficult. Did you have the same problem? Why don’t you stay here with me? We can listen together to the sleeping city, and I can tell you about some unusual events.

Even though Jerusalem and the surrounding countryside are still wrapped in slumber, you can see that the eastern sky is beginning to lighten. Soon, this quiet scene will change. Men, women, children and animals will stream through the city gates and streets. The noise levels, like the heat of early spring, will increase until it becomes the throbbing din of one huge marketplace, alive with human and animal sounds and smells. But, the question is: will he come, this Nazarene whom all of Judea watches?

At first, there was the Baptizer. He stood on the banks of the Jordan, proclaiming his message, his call for repentance. It is said that he came in the tradition of our prophets: gaunt, ascetic and lonely. I saw him only once. Actually, I heard him before I could see him. His clothing was as austere as his message: he was dressed in camel’s skin. He ate the plain, simple desert fare of locusts and wild honey. His preaching and reprimands drove our Jewish leaders into a frenzy. And there was Rome: its soldiers and its governors always watching and listening. In the end, Rome did to this John, son of Zechariah, what our very own rulers wanted to do, but legally couldn’t: Rome killed John the Baptizer.

Now we have this Galilean who has been preaching and teaching throughout the land for several years. It is Passover time and the Jewish leaders and their spies are nervously watching, to see if the preacher, Joshua from Galilee, will come to the feast. He has come before, and what a commotion he caused!

Any way, let me remind you a little of our nation’s story. Ours is a restless people, with a restless and fractured peace. There was a time long ago when we had our own kings. Some were great and godly men, but many were as evil as these Ro­mans. And in making a choice to have an earthly king as other nations did, we deserted our one and only true King, our God who brought us into this fair land from a land of slavery. But all of that is another story. Rome has been our master for many years, and our people, as you know, resent these foreigners, although some have made their peace with Roman ways and live very comfortably from such a change in values.

Certainly you’ve heard about the late King Herod, known as “Herod the Great”. He was great — great, some have said, in energy, in magnificence, and in wickedness. It is also said that he surrounded himself with spies and lived in perpetual fear of retribution from an outraged people. He was not a full-blooded Jew, you see, but he hoped to impress and appease our people by rebuilding our Temple. He spared no expense. It is one of the wonders of our age, this Temple that sits high in our city and glistens like a jewel in the sunshine. Of course King Herod had other building projects to keep us busy and, he hoped, to keep us peaceful. There was his winter palace at Jericho; the city, port and temples of Caesarea; the great white marble temple of Caesarea Philippi; and the lavish fortresses, palaces and storehouses of Masada, Herodium and Machaerus. Herod is dead now, but his family lives on. They rule over us in the name of Rome, and they rule just as harshly as their father did.

Rome watches us closely by day and night. One can hardly blame them. We are not an easy people to govern. Our nation simmers with resentment of foreign rulers, foreign soldiers, foreign currency, foreign laws and the ever-rising foreign taxes. Rebellion lurks, like a short dagger hidden under a cloak, and no one feels safe in the throngs at feast times. All it takes is a single incident to incite a mob; then Rome’s soldiers will eagerly descend without mercy upon young and old, innocent and zealot.

As we prepare for Passover, there is one question on many lips: Will he come?

You ask if I have ever seen him. No, I haven’t, nor have I had the privilege of hear­ing him, but I have heard the reports. It is said that he heals all kinds of diseases, even leprosy! The blind have their sight restored, the deaf can hear, and the lame run and jump with joy and energy. A man with a shriveled hand was healed on the Sabbath. Such an action on such a day made our teachers and elders furious, it is said. He has twelve men who are his close friends, his “disciples”, but many more follow him also. He seems to prefer the company of the poorest people and has provided food for huge numbers of folks in desert places. Then there are the tax collectors and other “sinners” who follow him. I understand that there are even some wealthy women who follow him and his group. You can just imagine how some talk of this behind closed doors!

He tells people to love their enemies, to do good to those who hate you, to bless those who curse you and to pray for those who mistreat you. According to this Nazarene we are to do to others as we would have them do to us! He talks of an easy yoke and a light burden. And the children love him. They, too, follow him everywhere; he tells them stories, stories which even their parents love to hear. And always, always, he talks of his Father in heaven and of a kingdom to come.

Do you know that it is said that he even raises the dead? The dead! Can you believe it? There has not been one like this man in our land for hundreds of years. Can this be the prophet like Moses of old? But this man comes from Nazareth — tiny, dirty Nazareth in Galilee. Why, I am told that there are even whispers about his mother’s morals, and questions about his father’s identity.

Excuse me. I am rambling on. Look, daylight is breaking over the Mount of Ol­ives. If you look closely you can see pilgrims who spent the night under the olive trees in Gethsemane. And you cannot miss the clatter of the Roman soldiers on the streets below us. Soon now, the sleepy owners will be opening their shops; then those shops will be full of early risers seeking bargains. I must hurry to my duties. I hope I haven’t bored you with all these details.

As I leave you, let me recommend a little shop, where Baker’s Street meets Potter’s Street. Tell Sarah I sent you. Such a meal she will serve you! Oh yes, and a further word of caution: watch yourself in the crowds and keep that money bag hidden. May our God, the God of Israel, go with you!

But I can’t help thinking… Will this be the day? Will he come?