Behind the well guarded doors of a mud plastered house not far from the shores of Genassaret, a small company of Galilean peasants and fishermen had gathered to meet a kurios[1] from a Phoenician thiasos,[2] who was making a pilgrimage to gather information and organize societies. When introduced to the little group, the kurios said, "I see the table spread for the supper. Around such a table have I sat in Greece and Asia Minor as well as in Italy. Great is its power of breaking down the hatred between races and of making strong the spirit of the Brotherhood. In every land, though customs are not the same and the tongues are strange, yet do those who enter in know the bath of acceptance; the common table; the common treasury; love of the living; care for the dead; hope for the future; worship of a divinity and belief that a Savior cometh. Long hath it come to the ears of the thiasos how Galilee doth suffer. By the sword hath not a whole village of thy race been taken? Were not thy men shackled and thy maidens ravished? And ye who remain, art thou not taxed to the death?" The words were spoken in low tones, yet there was a strange force in them. The speaker bent forward and the index finger he pointed at his hearers seemed to have been thrust suddenly from between his eyes. When the sleeve of his mantle fell back it disclosed upon his arm a fish, having a lion's head with a circle in its mouth. "To gather news of thy distress, that is not hear-say, and to learn of thy hope, if hope thou hast, have I come. Speak on." There was a moment of silence. Then a peasant stepped forward. "Look thou!" and he threw back his skirt. "See thou these grievous wounds? I was set upon at the thrashing floor by a band of ruffians who demanded my wheat. And when I did say, 'Nay,' they did beat me, take the wheat and cast me into the chaff to die. And it hath since come to me that these ruffians are none other than servants of Annas, High Priest, who go about to pillage and destroy. Is it not so?" and turning to one side he lay hold of another man's arm. "Here is Herod's stewart. Hear him." "Are the doors well barred and the court guards alert?" the stewart questioned. "Are there watchmen on the housetop? Herod hath said he will comb Galilee with teeth of steel for such as this. Yea, one wounded and robbed brother hath spoken truly. Nor is this the worst. The Sicarii, those murderers that do so grievously afflict the whole province, these too ply their bloody business at the hands of Herod and Annas. For no sooner have the pirates been caught than they give over to Herod and Annas their booty except a small stipend. Then are these murderers turned loose to get yet more booty for the accursed bloodsuckers called priests and kings. Am I not of the household of Herod? Do I not know of these things? And of virgins despoiled do I not know?" "Yea, yea—thou knowest!" The answer came sharply from a young fisherman whose head was bound in a faded red turban and who carried one arm in a sling. "Yea! Yea!" cried several other voices. "Let Jael speak!" "Oh, that Jael might speak!" he answered fiercely. "That Jael might find tongue to curse those thrice accursed heathen who but three days ago stole from him the maiden Sara. Oh, that he might find words to speak her fate, for rather than be polluted by the serpent touch of Belial, took she the bitter hemlock! Oh, that Jael could know where her body lieth that a pile of stones might cover it from open corruption! Behold—" and from his breast he took a cord with a bit of cloth attached, which he held up. "Behold all that Jael the fisherman hath left of his betrothed—a little tallith found upon the floor where she had struggled! And look! Look, thou!" and he snatched from his head the dull red cloth which had bound an angry wound and waved it with savage swiftness before the kurios. "Behold all that is left of the father of Jael, the fisherman who followed the call of the Gaulonite to liberty from oppression, nor was the head that once this covering clung to, allowed its right to rot in a decent tomb. What hast thou of help to offer the oppressed?" and with a sudden twist he wrapped the cloth about his outstretched hand and held it toward the kurios. In a well controlled voice strongly contrasting with that of Jael, the answer came. "If thou didst know the meaning of that which once didst bind thy father's head, then would thy question have its answer. If thou didst know the tongue the colors speak, the eyes of thy understanding would be open. The white of the gens families and the priests, hath it not from the hidden past meant 'washed' and 'set apart' from the soil of the world? And what is red the color of the toiler since those flaming deities, Ceres and Minerva, first presided over their destinies? Who first gave homage to the crimson of the rising sun? Kath it not ever been he who labors? Whose strength bringeth forth the wheat and wine that maketh the red blood of mankind? Cometh it not of the toiler? Is it not told in ancient song that those of white robes dwell on thrones of gold in Mount Olympus while their vaulted dome doth rest on the shoulders of the slaves and humble, whose red robes have grown dun and murk and brown with soil and toil? Verily there are blood makers and devourers of that blood. Thy father, Jael the fisherman, didst know that the way of hope is the way of Brotherhood. So did he bind himself with others. The hand of Rome destroyed him. Yet the way of Brotherhood liveth." A woman had entered the room as he spoke. She hastily put some cups on the table and then, in a voice vibrant with gladness, she repeated the words, "The way of Brotherhood," and lifting her hands high, palms upward, exclaimed, "My soul doth magnify the Lord!" All eyes were turned to her. A beautiful woman she was about whose face, which shone as if fresh from a glory bath, silvery threads shone like a dim halo. Her fine dark eyes were lit with radiant brightness. "James," she said addressing the master of the abode, "canst thou not see—canst thou not hear thy brother as he read from the Word when first he taught? Hear him; 'The Spirit of the Lord is upon me. He hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to captives, to set at liberty them that are bruised.' Hath not the Spirit of the Lord been upon him as he doth teach the way of Brotherhood and pray that this kingdom may come on earth? Yet he hath not spoken of a red banner." "The kingdom he would set up," said a man of gentle voice and spiritual countenance who had not yet spoken, "cometh not with swords and banners, for hath he not said 'They that lift the sword shall perish by the sword?' There is a better way of Brotherhood. It cometh by the law that he doth teach." "And what is the law of this, thy teacher that would bring Brotherhood?" and there was interest in the voice of the kurios as he asked the question. "There is but one law. On it hangeth all law and all prophecy. Verily a new law it is so that no more forever shall an eye be given for an eye or one sword-thrust for another, for God is love." "Love? No longer a sword for a sword? Thou dost speak a strange language! Shall naught be paid to robbers and murderers and despoilers of women but love? Yet until the time of the great Brotherhood, vain is the sword, for while the oppressed do rise here and there in small revolt, swift and terrible is their cutting down. Slow grows the Brotherhood. Yet since the mighty Solomon did weld into one whole his stone-cutters and builders, hath those of like kind in toil and poverty come together; fruit sellers, wool carders, perfume makers, fortune-tellers, linen weavers, patch workers, wash women, dyers, image makers, ivory carvers, bridge builders, poets and singers, dwarfsmiths, sea-farers, wonder workers, hunters for the amphitheatre, brothel keepers, all these and many others shall be gathered into one great society and in that day—" The words of the kurios were stopped suddenly by the sound of three quick knocks on the roof over their heads. "The enemy is upon us!" James exclaimed. "Mary, bring the roast kid with great haste! Let every man be gathered about the table ready for a feast—and be merry." A steaming kid was hurriedly brought and the men moved quickly to their places except Jael, who stepped behind the door and drew from his mantle, his long keen knife. When the soldiers entered shortly, with steps as stealthy as those of a cat, he moved out where their faces might be seen and scanned them swiftly, concealing his knife under his skirt. "What goeth on?" one soldier shouted, while the other walked across the room and looked into the kitchen. "I have a guest," James replied. "A kinsman whose father is my father's father. With him we feast." "Feast?" and the soldier turned his attention to the table. "They do feast! Ha! Ha! Come hither." The second soldier came, saying, "A banquet they give—Ho! Ho! For a better one would I take me to the stables of Herod." "A kid have they that shineth with grease." "Is it a kid? Methought it a sparrow." "By its size, its bones will but breed a quarrel." "Let us be keepers of the peace—for this hath Herod not appointed us?" and lifting his sword he brought it down on the roast kid severing it in two halves. "A sharp blade cutteth clean!" "And a stiff leg maketh a good handle." And with the words each soldier seized with his left hand a half of the kid which he fell greedily upon, while holding his sword aloft in his right hand. With hungry teeth the soldiers tore the flesh from the bones, spewing such as they did not want on to the floor, and devouring the tender, until their cheeks shone like ruddy apples and their beards were drabbled with gravy. Then they dropped the remains on the floor and with their boot toes rubbed them over the mud that had dropped from their heels. When the flesh was well covered with filth, the two halves of the carcass were lifted by the sword point and flung back on the table with the words, "A feast they would have!" The soldiers cast their eyes over the angry but silent company, and broke into roars of laughter. "A flock of sacred goats!" one said. "Nay—by the stink of them, fish long rotten. Let us go hence! Ugh!" and pinching their noses, the soldiers left the abode. There was silence in the room for a moment before the kurios said in low tones, holding his hand toward the door to enjoin caution, "What think ye, men of Galilee—needest thou a Brotherhood?" "Yea—yea," came like a growl from the throats of the company. "And who wilt thy leader be?" All eyes were turned to James as his name was spoken. "This night hast thou seen the fruit of the tree of oppression. What sayest thou?" With the light of indignation in his eye and the tremor of wrath in his voice, the master of the house said, "In the words of one greater than I, 'Let the ax be laid at the roots of the tree.' And this also do I say, Go to, ye rich men, weep and howl for your miseries that shall come upon you! Your riches are corrupted, and your garments moth-eaten! Your gold and silver is cankered and the rust of them shall be a witness against you and shall eat your flesh as it were fire. Ye have heaped treasure together for the last days! Behold! The hire of the laborers who have reaped down thy fields, which you kept back by fraud, crieth, and the cries of them which have reaped have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth! Ye have lived in pleasure on the earth and been wanton! Ye have nourished thy hearts as in a day of slaughter! Ye have condemned and killed the just!" Then addressing his words more closely to those about the table he said, "Be patient, therefore, brethern, unto the coming of the Lord. Be patient, for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh—draweth nigh." The Hallelujah, "My soul doth magnify the Lord!" broke the stillness that had fallen after the words of James. All eyes were turned again to the woman who had spoken once before. "He hath put down the mighty from their seats; As she stood with face aglow and arms extended, a strange pervading hush filled the room. Her voice, while mellow with sweetness and glad as a song yet had a depth that betokened mysterious strength. "Who is this," the kurios asked, "that seeth what is to be while it is yet forming in the womb of pain? Who is this that shouteth victory before it hath been brought forth?" "The woman speaketh of her son who hath come to establish the Kingdom," "Who is her son?" and there was keen interest in the question. "A Galilean even as we, and son of a carpenter. But he doth many mighty works and his heart turneth to the lowly. Jesus his name." "I would see this Jesus. Where is he?" "He hath gone apart into a mountain to pray, as is his custom. But tarry thou among us until he come, for of a truth he speaketh as never man hath spoken." "I tarry," answered the kurios. [1] Lord and contract maker of ancient working man's society. [2] One of several names of ancient working man's society. |