Chapter 4

‘And do I hear you say, “It is not my fault that the world is wicked: it is the Empire that enslaves and robs and kills; am I to be punished for the crimes of Caesar?” Then I must answer you that every one of us is guilty!’ John’s words came fast now, fast and scathing. ‘Do not blame all injustice, all cruelty, all meanness on Caesar’s Empire! For each one of you is a little empire filled with lust and greed and hate! It is easy enough to condemn the government, which is, indeed, a rapacious thing that God will cleanse and cleanse until its bones show through! Easy enough to denounce the Temple for its well-fed lethargy: it deserves and will receive just punishment! But if any peace is to bless this sick world, salvation must first come to you—to you, the lonely shepherd in the hills; to you, the farmer at the plough; to you, the carpenter at the bench; to you, the housewife at the loom; to you, rabbi; to you, lawyer; to you, scribe; to you, magistrate. For—except you repent, you shall perish! It is so decreed. God has again spoken. There is One near at hand to rid the world of its iniquities! Indeed—He is now here!’

Suddenly a black-robed, distinguished-looking man of middle age, at the far end of the second row, arose from the small group of similarly well-groomed company surrounding him and called out in a loud voice that turned all eyes his way:

‘Meaning you, Baptizer? Are you, then, this avenger who will wreak God’s wrath upon Caesar—and the High Priest—and upon us all?’

‘No, I am not He,’ answered John humbly. ‘I am but His courier, unworthy to stoop down and buckle His sandal-straps. I am but a voice, crying in the desert. I am commanded to say: make the way straight for the oncoming of the Anointed One. Level the road! Lift up the valleys where the poor despair! Pare down the mountain-tops where the powerful have sat in their arrogance and pride! Level the road for Him in your own hearts!’

Here the impassioned voice lashed out like the crack of a bull-whip.

‘Do not be content with saying that the world might find justice and peace if the Greeks stopped hating the Egyptians and the Romans stopped robbing the Greeks! Look to yourselves! Let the Macedonian merchant stop hating the Syrian camel-driver! Let the Jew stop hating the Arab! Let the Pharisees and Sadducees stop hating one another! Let the poor farmer with two cows and an ass and twenty chickens stop his sneering at the poor farmer with only two goats and ten chickens! Let the woman with the fine cloak for Sabbath and the wedding-feast stop her haughtiness toward the woman with only a week-day cloak and no wedding garment!’

Another man of the little company of critics now stood up in his place and said, ‘Does this avenger come with a sword—to make peace?’

‘Not with a sword,’ said John, ‘but none the less with a power so mighty that the whole world will be shaken by it! He comes with an axe and a flail! The axe will be laid at the roots of all the trees. Every tree that bears fruit will be spared, but every tree that is barren and an encumbrance to the ground will be cut down and burned! His flail will thresh the harvest of your deeds. He will save the grain, but the chaff will be blown away!’

It was some moments before the crowd realized that the prophet had made an end of speaking, for he stood in silence before the people, with his head bowed in weariness; or perhaps, Fara thought, in silent prayer.

At length he lifted his head, turned slowly, and walked away toward the neighbouring hill to the north. Their eyes followed him until he disappeared among the scraggy olive trees. Wordlessly and without looking at one another, they rose and moved toward the camp-sites they had chosen in the broad pasture-field.

Dazed and bewildered, Fara followed the slow-moving crowd. She found herself abreast of the family she had met at supper. The pretty girl, Ruth, gave her a sidelong glance and smiled. Her mother, alert to her daughter’s behaviour, scowled and muttered intentionally loud enough for Fara to hear, ‘Any more of that and I shall tell your father!’

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