Chapter 13

They all found their places and sat, with Jesus in the midst of them. Stooping over, he picked up a portion of the worn-out lathe, shook his head, and let it fall with a clatter to the floor.

‘Let us talk of redemption,’ he said, ‘and of salvation.’ He pointed to the broken lathe and then to the cabinet. In a low voice, almost as if he were talking to himself, he began to speak about the things that could and could not be reclaimed by mending. Some things were beyond repair. The life was gone out of them and nothing but newness of life could redeem them.

‘It is useless,’ he went on, ‘to sew a new patch on an old garment. The worn-out fabric has no strength to support good cloth. It is of no profit to pour active new wine into an old, dried, inflexible wineskin.’ Turning toward David, he asked, ‘What say you, friend?’

‘I fully agree with you, Master,’ said David. ‘And does it not apply as well to old systems of thought, old laws, old beliefs?’

A slow, sidelong glance of apprehensive inquiry slipped from man to man around the wall. Was this shrewd lawyer baiting the Master to some imprudent criticism of the Government or the Sanhedrin?

But apparently Jesus had no suspicions of the Sadducee’s sincerity. He seemed eager to discuss David’s pertinent query… The tendency of any ancient establishment of laws or doctrines was the gradual accumulation of signs, symbols, tokens, amulets, sanctified vessels and enchanted words, until the life of the institution was smothered and its purposes forgotten…Endless debates dealt with such trivialities of the law as how many cubits a man might walk on the Sabbath Day, whether a man might carry a stool across the room, whether a tailor was breaking the law of the Sabbath if he had a needle in his coat; but they never defined how much rent a landlord could exact of a poor tenant or how much interest a money-lender could demand from a hard-pressed debtor… Solemn conclaves dignifiedly wrangled over the proper compounding of herbs for incense—precisely how much mint, how much anise, how much rue—and days were spent in arguing about the breadth of a phylactery or the depth of a hem on a priest’s robe, while the needy lay starving to death on rich men’s doorsteps, and nobody cared!…The Master’s voice rose indignantly as he pictured groups of hapless, hopeless men huddled together at the very lodge-gates of well-fed pundits who spent their days splitting the hairs of ritual and ceremonial. And nobody noticed the plight of these wretched ones but the homeless dogs who paused to lick their sores. Nor was there any talk of mercy and brotherly kindness!…Any government so far gone toward utter futility could never be repaired. It would have to be reborn.

‘Do you think then,’ asked David respectfully, ‘that the old laws should be repealed?’

‘No, David!’ exclaimed Jesus. ‘Not repealed—but fulfilled!’

With that he rose and took leave of them, retiring to his bed-chamber. It was evident that he was very weary. After a moment of indecision, the Sadducee went to the front door to summon his servants. They had disappeared. He stood in the doorway, looking down the street; then impulsively beckoned to the men in the room, and set off with obvious agitation. They rose and followed quickly. Huge billows of black smoke puffed toward the sky in the vicinity of the Synagogue. Excited men were running down the middle of the road. Simon and the others soon overtook and passed David, all but old Nathaniel Bartholomew, who had a weak leg and poor wind. The fire angrily spat and crackled and roared as they neared the Synagogue plaza. Rounding the corner they saw what it was, the residence of Rabbi Ben-Sholem.

There Simon’s steps slowed to a walk. He was quite out of breath from all the excitement and unusual exertion. He let everybody pass him and stood for a long moment panting hard. The acrid smoke stung his nostrils. Apparently there wasn’t much to be done for the Rabbi’s house. In any case, it was none of Simon’s business. Rabbi Ben-Sholem had mistreated the Master. Perhaps the haughty old man was being punished for it. Maybe it was God’s will that the Rabbi should lose his home. If so, who was Simon that he should have the impudence to interfere?

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