King Aretas of Nabatea is acting uppity because of our . . . troubles here. Call on him within the week. Remind him not to interfere with the power of Rome. Make some examples: Round up rebels, put down insurrection, but keep the peace! No more riots!” Then, as if taking Marcus into his confidence, Pilate said, “These Jews! Cantankerous lot! Impossible to please them! Argue about anything and ¬everything and then threaten to complain to Rome!” On two previous occasions Pilate had made bad decisions that led to unrest in Judea. Unleashing Vara’s malicious brutality had been the third mistake. He could not afford any more. “I have some questions, my lord,” Marcus said. Pilate looked peevish. He waved a hand for Marcus to wait. “Don’t think I ¬don’t know what’s happening here,” he said. “Herod Antipas would love to rule all Judea again, like his father. Happy to see unrest so he can tattle to Rome. Don’t give him any excuses! He needs to go back to the Galil and keep his nose on his own affairs!” This was also a tacit warning to Marcus. The governor knew Marcus and Felix had communicated with Caligula, who might one day be emperor. Don’t do it again, Pilate’s message insisted. But perhaps here was the opening Marcus wanted. If Pilate was already suspicious of Antipas, maybe Marcus could use that distrust as a device to protect Yeshua. Remembering Felix’s warning about not pushing Pilate too hard, Marcus first tested the water by asking about Zadok. “There is a matter in which Herod Antipas is already meddling here in Judea,” Marcus suggested. “He’s urging the high priest to expel a good, upright man, Zadok of Bethlehem, the Chief —” The warning palm lifted again. “I won’t get in the middle of a ¬Jewish religious squabble,” Pilate instructed. “Had enough of that for life! You ¬don’t get into that mess either, Centurion! Keep the roads and cities safe, and taxes flowing. Anything else offends somebody, no matter how hard you try not to!” Pilate was bitter, afraid, and eager to hole up in Caesarea, the least ¬Jewish city in the ¬Jewish province. He would leave Marcus to face the blame for anything else that went wrong. “I’ll do my best, sir,” Marcus offered. The governor scowled and dismissed Marcus. There was no mandate from Pilate that Marcus could claim in order to protect Yeshua from the envy and hatred of the religious leaders. But for the moment he could extend the power he’d been given as best he could. Marcus saluted and left.
4 It was early morning. Before the heat of the sun awakened the flies and made the stench unbearable. Lily, Cantor, Rabbi Ahava, and three other volunteers entered the large cavern that housed the dying of the community. There were thirty-six hopeless patients within, ranging in age from nine to seventy-one. Leprosy in its last stages stole the senses incrementally. Taste, smell, sight, touch all vanished until finally ¬only the sense of hearing remained. A dozen among the victims had reached this phase. They lay helpless, unmoving, listening to their own breathing and the voices around them. Death would very soon press even breath from them. Lily knew them all by name. Most were blind, yet they recognized her voice. She cleaned their sores and spoke to each as if she were mother, sister, daughter, or long-gone wife come to make these last days more bearable. ¬I’m praying again, Compassionate One. Oh, be here! Be here with them through my touch! Few could taste the broth she spooned into their mouths. And yet they could hear Cantor singing softly to them, feeding their ravaged souls with Hope. “I sought the Lord, and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears.”12 The greatest battle for Lily was the fight against flies and maggots that hatched and swarmed in putrefied flesh from one day to the next. She covered her nose and mouth to keep from gagging. She picked them out of the sores one by one, then anointed the
4 It was early morning. Before the heat of the sun awakened the flies and made the stench unbearable. Lily, Cantor, Rabbi Ahava, and three other volunteers entered the large cavern that housed the dying of the community. There were thirty-six hopeless patients within, ranging in age from nine to seventy-one. Leprosy in its last stages stole the senses incrementally. Taste, smell, sight, touch all vanished until finally ¬only the sense of hearing remained. A dozen among the victims had reached this phase. They lay helpless, unmoving, listening to their own breathing and the voices around them. Death would very soon press even breath from them. Lily knew them all by name. Most were blind, yet they recognized her voice. She cleaned their sores and spoke to each as if she were mother, sister, daughter, or long-gone wife come to make these last days more bearable. ¬I’m praying again, Compassionate One. Oh, be here! Be here with them through my touch! Few could taste the broth she spooned into their mouths. And yet they could hear Cantor singing softly to them, feeding their ravaged souls with Hope. “I sought the Lord, and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears.”12 The greatest battle for Lily was the fight against flies and maggots that hatched and swarmed in putrefied flesh from one day to the next. She covered her nose and mouth to keep from gagging. She picked them out of the sores one by one, then anointed the
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