Two from Galilee by Marjorie Holmes Page B

heathen palaces and theatres and coliseums? This bloody tyranny?"
    "At least it's not civil war," Joseph persisted, against his better judgment, while Mary despaired. "As it was when we first appealed to Pompey for help in settling our own terrible conflicts. That's the irony of it," Joseph said earnestly, "that our conquerors are here by invitation. Because we didn't have the wisdom or unity as a people to settle our own affairs. Maybe we deserve them."
    Joachim stared at him, astounded, grudgingly impressed. It was indeed a smudge on the glorious history of Israel, that ancient feud between the Pharisees and the high priest Jannaeus, who in his own way was as much a monster as Herod. A man who had feasted with his concubines while eight hundred crucified prisoners were forced to witness the slaughter of their own families as they hung dying. And after his death, the mortal combat between his sons, tearing the country asunder. Little emphasis was put upon this sorry fact when teaching the young. If people knew about it they submerged it in the larger fact of their own cruel suffering under Rome.
    Restraining his mild, irked approval, Joachim carved another choice slice of duck and put it on Joseph's plate. "Surely you aren't defending this rape of our country?"
    "No," Joseph hastened to assure him, "only trying to get it in perspective. And this madman who's trying to represent both our people and the heavy fist of Rome. When will Rome itself realize that's exactly what he is? Insane. A man who'd murder his own wife, drown his own nephew, his children. . . ."
    Joachim grunted. "Yes. As the joke goes—it's better to be Herod's pig than his son, for at least he makes the gesture of not eating pork!" He leaned forward, liking the youth who did not sit in mute agreement, however anxious he surely was to make a good impression. "And Rome. Do you think she'll ever spit out this vassal and send us a better successor?"
    "He can't last long," said Joseph. "He's not only possessed, they say he's dying of some awful affliction. . . ." Herod, he thought wretchedly, perspiring. Why had he ever brought up the ugly subject? Instead of being tactful and diffident before an elder he'd blundered, tried to overcome his nervousness by saying far too much. At least he might have hit upon something more pleasant for this meal at Mary's table.
    "But his successor," Joachim prodded. "Do you think Judah will ever enjoy better days under any Roman emperor?"
    Joseph hesitated before the challenge. "There is only one real hope for the land of Judah," he said. "And that is the coming of our own ruler. Even he that has been promised us so long."
    "And you believe in this Messiah? That he will come soon?"
    "As a good Jew I believe in the prophets who have told us that one day he will come. But when?" Joseph made a helpless gesture. "We've endured so much for so many generations, and each time the people thought they could endure no more. Just as we feel we've reached the limit of our endurance now. Surely if the Lord truly intends to send us a deliverer the time is ripe, for our travail is as great or worse than at any time since our forefathers left Babylon."
    "Maybe the Lord is testing our patience as the prophets also warned," Joachim said. "Making us wait until we are worthy of our own deliverance. Wait until we have come to understand more of the true nature of Jahveh before the Messiah comes."
    "But how shall we know him when he does?" Now it was Joseph who demanded an answer. "How can we be sure? The false prophets, those who honestly think themselves the Saviour —we have seen what happens to them, and to the poor souls who in their desperation follow them."
    Joachim nodded and wiped his fingers. "We'll know," he said. "The Lord will give us a sign."
    It depressed Mary to hear them, and the dumb compassion rose in her once more. Surely it was hard enough to have to provide for a woman and her children, to know that upon your shoulders rested the